A Thanksgiving Story
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Romantic, Reluctant, Blackmail, Lesbian, Heterosexual, DomSub, First, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - It's about the feeling, not the holiday. A chance meeting by desperate people in an adult video store leads to the creation of two couples.

I was hanging out in the local adult book emporium - nothing ELSE had worked... A bit about me, I guess, to start: I'm twenty four, around six feet, not too heavy, and apparently, pretty nondescript. I'd moved here to go to college, then rush out and make my first million. I'd managed the first half; somehow the second was elusive. I was doing bookkeeping for a local clothing store, and fiddling a bit as sales help when required - something I hated; sales is NOT my bag! In my spare time, I was suffering a lot; I'm a lousy dancer, and I don't get drunk enough in clubs to be able to ignore the fact that some really nice looking babes are just stupid - or shallow - or both. Given the fact that I'm usually ignored in a crowded environment, well, you get the picture. I fully expected that I'd end up renting a couple of videos (they had been getting more and more kinky lately, as I became more and more decadent in my tastes) and make violent love to my hand. For the moment, however, I was surveying the racks, trying to resist the temptation to wander back to the peep booths and deliver a protein shake to a set of anonymous lips at one of the glory holes in the end booths.

Then I spied them, pawing at the toy rack. Two chicks, oh, eighteen to twenty range, apparently, dressed pretty casually for the season. The one on the right was a blonde, thin hair all bleached to straw, thin face, braces? She was doing a lot of high-pitched giggling, which didn't impress me any, and as she held up a boxed dildo, a pretty substantial rock decorated her left ring finger. I sighed, and set myself to ignore her.

Her companion was quite a bit bigger, and it was quickly apparent that she was serious in her perusal of the wares. She had shoulder-length dark brown hair, and her hands, displayed as she examined a much more workmanlike item, didn't proclaim any ownership. In fact, each of her long, powerful- looking fingers displayed a different item of cheap jewelry - a dead giveaway that she wasn't pleased with them for some reason. She wasn't giggling; she was fingering boxes and comparing in a way that said a serious purchase was in store. I sidled closer. She was wearing one of those track-suit/pajama things that had become popular despite the fact that they weren't very revealing - I guess the idea that if you gave the pants a tug, you'd see the girl's bare ass and the fact that the thin material transmitted every wiggle were the draws; those things worked on me... Anyway, the thing hung low and baggy, and gave the impression that the body beneath was baggy, too - but as I watched, the woman reached for something on an upper rack, and the too short top came up, revealing not a roll, but a belly with a distinct, sexy (to me) pooch - not flat, not a jiggly roll, but that area between that said she was carrying more than a model, but less than an elephant. Womanly, to my mind. I sidled closer, and as I got set up to move in on her left, she squatted, displaying a couple of wide love handles punctuated with dimples over her hip bones. That settled it. I was going in.

I settled into a squat beside her and announced myself, "I always wonder about the advertising on those things. Looking for something special?"

"Um, yeah," she mumbled, blushing, "For a friend."

The blonde gave me a poker-faced glance that told me better than an engraved announcement that the brunette's 'friend' was between her own legs. "Well, do you have any experience with them? I think a lot of the crap on the box is false advertising." I held up a solid, eight inch item. "Besides, something hard and cold like this won't replace the real thing." I mustered my courage, and laid a hand in the middle of her back. I held the vibrator out to her with my left hand, and she took it and pretended to examine it - but she wasn't really looking at anything. Her expression had gone vacant; she was feeling my hand. I started gently sweeping it up and down her back, keeping up the patter. "This thing's got three speeds, which might be nice, but I'd think you would want more variable control, don't you?"

"Yeah, maybe." Her eyes were green - kind of glassy, at this point, but a nice color. Her face was kind of pink, but she hadn't moved a millimeter - and I'd inventoried quite a bit of her back's upper surface. I wasn't unaffected - this looked like paydirt, big time, and fifty thousand units of mixed adrenaline and testosterone were rushing through my veins. I let the hand slide lower, contacting bare skin, and slid it over those dimpled hips.

About that time, the blonde started to intrude, "Hey, are you an employee?" She backed up and took in my hand. "Irma, is this perv messing with you?"

Irma got her voice under control. "No, we're talking about these things."

Blondie kept nattering, her attention totally shifted from the display, but I'd heard enough. I started the hand in motion again, this time sliding it under the top. Irma looked at me, sidelong, but said absolutely nothing, while I slid my palm along a plain of soft flesh. I picked up another item, one with a little protrusion near the base designed to tickle the clitoris while buried, apparently. "I understand what this is SUPPOSED to do, but... I always kind of felt that these things were an accessory, something to be used to make you even more happy while something firm, but not hard, and a lot warmer, was doing the real work. Did you know you could get stuff like that in places like this?" I slid my hand down, easily defeating the waistband of her pants, and drew a finger along the top of the groove between the heavy cheeks nestled there, while watching her face. It was heavy, thick featured, the nose a bit too short and upturned; she wasn't hog- nosed, but doubtless she'd been called that. She had a double chin, too, but I found it interesting that only the real, smaller one was quivering - the heavy jaw muscles appeared to be quite stable. She wasn't a beauty - but you know, she wasn't ugly, either, and a smile on that face would be very nice to bask in. I moved my hand back up under her shirt and braced myself - God knew how THIS was gonna go! - took her left hand in mine and placed it on the solid length of flesh pipe that had extended itself down my right jeans leg, saying, "In fact, you can get it right here..."

The green eyes bugged, and she made to snatch her hand away, but I held it a moment, and there was no follow-up to the reflexive jerk. After a moment, tentatively, she started measuring it, and applied a gentle squeeze. I dropped all pretense and leaned in, murmuring, "You only have to be brave once, Honey. I'm gonna ask you a question, and if you say 'no' I'll be a good boy and go away, but if you say 'yes', I'm gonna take it easy and be real gentle, but we're gonna take care of the basic problem, rather than fooling with band-aids." I gathered myself and locked eyes, "Do you want me? You don't even have to talk - I'll take a nod..." She'd leaned in, to hear me whisper - and to facilitate a more and more robust exploration of my hard rod. I watched her, fear and desire at war in her face. My wandering right hand got a finger under the elastic at the back of her brassiere, and I slid it along, around to the side, working it under the underwire barrier of the cup to feel the soft flesh of a breast. They would be heavy, and sag, and might not be a wet dream to look at - but I was interested in knowing how sensitive they were, and how strongly she'd react to lips on the nipple.

Meanwhile, Blondie was beginning to get strident. "Irma, is that perv feeling you up?" she hissed in a stage whisper. "I'm gonna call an employee - you shouldn't have to put up with that shit in here! Irma?"

Irma's eyes remained locked on mine, but she addressed Blondie fiercely, sotto voce, "Vickie. Shut. Up."

"B-but..." Vickie drew back, surprised.

I flicked a quick glance at her and murmured, "It's all right - I'm nice people." Then I turned my attention back to Irma.

Emotion washed back and forth in her eyes as the battle waged - fear, desire, and other things I couldn't readily identify. "Just once?" she asked, huskily.

I held her eyes, put on my most sincere expression, and murmured, "Oh, I hope not!"

She nerved herself, her face saying, 'God, I hope I don't live to regret this!' and nodded, quickly. I gathered her in close, and kissed her quickly below the left ear. She shuddered, but then she tried to tuck herself into me - something difficult given the fact that we were nearly of a size. I launched a full-scale invasion of her right bra cup, displacing it and disrupting its mate - and gathering in a substantial handful of soft flesh, with a stiff protuberance capping it. I locked that bit of gristle between my second and third fingers, and Irma groaned softly. I looked over Irma's shoulder at Vickie, whose mouth was still working, and said, "You want to protect her, right? I understand. But it's gonna be okay. My intentions aren't what you'd call honorable, but they're something she wants - and I plan to make it memorable, for both of us."

"Look, Man, I don't trust you." Vickie's face reflected this sentiment.

"Well, that's cool," I allowed. "I'm willing to do whatever to make you feel better about it."

"Um, like leaving Irma alone?" Vickie probed.

I didn't say anything, merely shifting my attention to Irma - and rubbing the two fingers trapping her nipple back and forth. Irma's voice shook as she hissed, "Cut it out, Vicks." I was, frankly, amazed. Vickie shrugged, and looked away.

"Honey," I murmured, returning my attention to the rack, "I hear that this little thing will give you about all you can really expect from a vibrator." I fished out a small item about the size of a lipstick case with 5 small balls on the upper surface. "Kind of amazing, huh? If you get this kit with the tips..." I waved a box before her, "there are some little goodies that make it versatile, too!"

"Um, really?" Irma peered at the box. There were four or five items inside. The first couple were kind of simple - a smooth domed tip, and one with small teeth on it. But there were a couple of small sleeves, too - one that did a pretty good job of looking like a flickering tongue, one that added a soft cock head, and a third that added a narrow, pencil thin flex tip about four inches long. Irma's finger settled unerringly on the last item. "What's that?"

"Um, it's for, um, ass play," I related, somewhat diffidently.

"Really?" The green eyes were wide with amazement.

The reaction could have been a LOT worse... "Yeah, it's narrow, so it's not scary, but... You know, uh, it'll take a lot more..."

Irma nodded, "Uh huh." But her eyes weren't reflecting a whole lot of belief.

"Jeezus, you're cute!" I exclaimed, hugging her to me. "You ready to go?"

"Uh huh." Irma picked up Vickie with her eyes, as we rose and turned toward the checkout. I let go, reluctantly, and the girls lined up at the counter. Vickie kept flicking glances at me. This was a critical period, I knew. If Vickie put on a full-court press when the girls hit the door, that could be it. Toby, the clerk, popped open the package and fished out the vibrator. "What are you doing?" Irma asked.

"I'm testing it," he replied, producing a battery. "You can't return it - health regs - so I'm proving it works."

Irma turned red. "You don't have to," she husked.

I saw an opportunity. Sliding up, I murmured, "Let the man do his job, Honey. You're paying for it - you might as well know it works."

Irma subsided. Toby blinked owlishly, and connected us with his eyes. The vibe let out a healthy buzz, and he repackaged it. Eyeing me, he asked, "You gonna check out any flicks, Mike? We got some new stuff..."

I scrubbed my face; this query wasn't exactly welcome. "No, Toby, I'm gonna pass," I related diffidently. "I'm hoping to do better." The 'If you don't fuck it up!' carried to him without having to be uttered, He grimaced, mouthed "Sorry," and concentrated on his repackaging.

Irma turned wide eyes on me. "You watch this stuff?" she queried.

If looks could kill, Toby would have been a pillar of ash. I sighed, "Yes, Honey. I don't get many opportunities to entertain, so..."

Irma eyed me sidelong, her head tilted. The visible evidence of mental process going on between her ears would have made some guys run for cover, but to me, it was a confirmation that things were going well; Irma marked me 'attainable' in her mind in that instant. She slid her arm around my back and asked, "Can we look? Vickie was a big baby about it..."

I blinked. Somebody had loaded the dice, somewhere... I slid my arm around her, and murmured, "Sure..." I flicked a bemused glance at Toby, "Hold that for us, willya?" and we went off to peruse the racks.

We wandered up and down, stopping here and there. "You're not picking anything out," Irma observed.

"Um, well, I don't know if it's time yet for me to show you just how bad a perv I am," I chuckled nervously. "I'm trying NOT to confirm Vickie's opinion of me." I flicked a glance at Vickie, who was fidgeting near the counter. "Is she that hung up?"

We were moulded at the hip, so I felt Irma's shrug clearly. "She likes to fuck, and I think she gives her fiancé head, but she's kinda chicken," she related. "It took me a month to get her to cover my back in here. If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have come in alone a long time ago."

I grinned. "What's she think of girl-girl stuff?" I inquired.

Irma glanced over at Vickie and smiled cattily. "She wouldn't want you to know."

"Was she going to leave you to your own devices, or was she going to help?"

Irma leaned up and whispered in my ear, "I think she was going to help."

I nodded, saying nothing. "C'mon," Irma prodded, "What should we be looking at?"

"It's your call," I replied. "If you see it on the rack, you can pretty much figure I've seen similar, at least."

"Everything?" she asked, looking back at the gay rack we'd just bypassed.

I confirmed her direction of observation, and sighed. "Everything. I'm kind of omnivorous. After you've entertained yourself a while..."

Irma held up her hands. "Okay." After a moment, she continued, "So what would you recommend?"

"Well," I allowed, "You seem to be pretty open-minded, but there's no reason to go nuts. How much of this stuff have YOU been exposed to?"

"Um, none, actually," she confided. She picked up a box advertising a three-hour compilation. The montage on the box featured some pretty serious DP action. "It's all pretty exciting looking, but..."

"Why don't we start easy?" I recommended. "Amateur stuff, couples, not too exploitative? Girls' sensibilities tend to be offended a bit by some of the rougher stuff. If you want, we can always graduate to something serious, later."

"Okay." I guided her to the amateur rack, and we picked out a 'Fuck my Wife' and a flick that proclaimed it was amateur action, (avoiding a couple of known dogs), then headed back to the counter and the distraught Vickie. "Change of plan, Toby. We'll rent these." I fished out my money clip. "I've got the vibe, too."

"Okay." Toby took the numbers off the boxes, and went to collect them form the racks, while Vickie examined the boxes and made horrified noises over the things going on in the pictures. Toby came back and calmly declaimed, "Actually, these two are pretty much good, clean fun. The one is fantasy fulfillment, and the other is real couples sex - at least supposedly." Having become irritated, I watched him decide to jerk Vickie's chain, "You wanna see real exploitation, check out the deep throat gag flicks on aisle four." While Vickie puffed and blew, he turned to me, "That'll be forty two seventy, Mike." I fished out three twenties and Toby made change, handing the bag to Irma, who hadn't left my side. I waved her out ahead of me, and Vickie followed, sputtering.

Once outside, I hit the next serious hurdle, head on: "Okay, Hon, your place, or mine?"

Irma turned to face me. looking anxious. "We were going to Vickie's - I still live at home. But her live-in boyfriend probably won't be happy to see you... You know, he might have been thinking..." I glanced up, surprising an odd look on Vickie's face - apparently, she was reprocessing something her boyfriend had said, and discovering that things weren't as rosy at home as she had thought.

Re-engaging, I gave Irma a quick peck. "My place, then. C'mon, my car is over there."

Vickie didn't like it. "She rides with me!" she insisted.

"No, she rides with me!" I retorted. "I don't want you whisking her off 'for her own good' or nattering at her the whole way." Reaching my car, I fished a pad and pen out of the seat pocket. "I'll go real slow - but in case something happens, we're going here." I wrote my name, address, and phone number on the pad. "In any case, you have your cell phone, don't you, Hon?" Irma nodded, and I turned to Vickie, "You can call her and make sure I don't molest her on the way." In an effort at gallantry, I led Irma around to the passenger side of my two-seater and settled her in. Irma moved smoothly and gracefully, and I began to wonder just how badly that outfit of hers lied about its contents.

I was backing out of the parking space when Irma's purse erupted into the William Tell Overture. Rolling my eyes, I advised, "Tell her to pay attention to her driving, or we'll lose her coming out of the parking lot!" Irma giggled - yes it was a nice smile.

I grinned back while Irma relayed, "Vickie, get your hands-free organized, or we're all gonna have to sit around at the wreck you cause for half the night!" I made the left out of the parking lot. Traffic was heavy, so I went down a block and pulled off in the entrance to a tire store parking lot and set my flashers. "Don't kill yourself, we're waiting on you!" Irma chided into the phone. Bored, I entertained myself by rubbing Irma's leg; she merely smiled. "I'll give you an hour to stop that," she teased. I was suddenly one happy mother fucker - things were gonna have to go seriously wrong for me not to get my dick wet, apparently!

"Okay, see the Pontiac?" Irma asked me. I nodded, and she went to the phone, "That's us, with the flashers. Let us back in in front of you," she directed Vickie. The Pontiac slowed down and flashed its lights, and I slid out of the drive ahead of it. Running down the block, I glanced over and pushed my luck, "Do you think you could do that thing you girls do where you get rid of the brassiere?"

The answer was a throaty chuckle that ran a shiver up my neck. "Might as well, the thing's up around my neck, anyway!"

I glanced over in time to see it appear through the sleeve of her top, and kind of just stared for a moment. They weren't riding high, but based on feel, I'd expected that. They were sizeable, though. I worked a hand under her top and slid it over her left tit, quickly discovering the nipple. "Uuhh!" she groaned, "Cold!"

I grinned. "Sorry - sorta. Sure popped up the nipple, though!" It felt great, too. I could feel the tight wrinkles of her constricted areole, and the fat, protruding length. I fished my hand out to downshift for a red light. "Sorry, it's a standard."

She glanced over, interested. "Four speed?"


"I can shift - I know how." I kind of sat there, looking at her with my mouth open. "What?" she asked.

"I'm trying to figure out how I won the Lottery," I replied.

"Guts?" she supplied. "'Cause I was there?" The light changed, and I laid my hand over hers on the shifter to work through the gears.

"Why WERE you there?" I asked.

She shrugged, and an interesting ripple occurred under her top. "It was a long time coming, but I was..."

"Horny?" I supplied.

That chuckle again. "It goes 'way beyond that," she assured me. "Still, I never expected to be here..." We'd settled into fourth gear, so I released the shift lever and started worming my hand back under her top. Irma leaned her head on my shoulder to facilitate the move. The phone started squawking, and Irma held it to her ear. "Vickie says I'm acting like a total slut."

I shrugged - and regretted it as her head came momentarily off my shoulder. "Well, we're doing stuff usually reserved for date number three..." The traffic situation changed: "Give me third."

Irma moved the lever, awkwardly, with her right hand, and murmured quietly, "I don't generally get that far."

"No?" I responded, surprised. "Why not? It's a seller's market. Most guys I know..."

"Wouldn't give me a second glance," she finished ruefully. "I went to dance clubs for a while, but I got tired of holding up the walls..."

"You're kidding, right?" I disparaged. "Okay, so you're not a swimsuit model - but then, swimsuit models tend to be stuck up. Gimme second, we've got to stop."

"I"m kinda dumpy - you know that! Guys..."

"Lots of guys spend twenty four hours a day in quiet desperation," I argued. "Me, for instance."

"All I know is that if there are ten girls in the room, I get out the gate just before the elephant and the moose!" she retorted.

I thought about it. "Guess I have the same problem. First!"

"Huh? Oh!" The shifter moved.

I let out the clutch, and we started forward. "Two." The move was smooth - she knew her manual transmissions. "Three." Things looked good - I might have pushed it, alone, but I didn't want to challenge her, and Vickie was following, anyway.

"Really?" Slight wonder sounded in her voice. "YOU can't... ?"

"It's worse for guys," I sighed. "Either you're ungodly handsome, or a silver-tongued devil - or you settle for leftovers, usually burnt by the first two groups. They go through women like Grant through Richmond, leaving 'em broken and distorted and looking for money, since love didn't work. And I don't have THAT, either!" I added bitterly.

That chuckle again. "Well, I've been missed by ALL THREE groups, so I guess I'm... virgin territory?"

I nodded, watching the traffic. "And a pearl beyond price."

The phone squawked and Irma chuckled again. "Vickie says you just blew the silver-tongued devil thing."

"Vickie will discover that I tend to be brutally honest - which doesn't help me with women," I retorted.

The phone squawked some more. "She'll believe it when she sees it," Irma relayed.

"Fair enough." I floored the clutch and turned on my left signal. "Drop us into first; we're going left into the lot, here. Almost home." A glance in the mirror showed Vickie setting up for the turn behind me. "Tell Vickie that there are marked visitor's slots a couple down from mine. The other tenants can be real bastards if you take their parking spots." I reluctantly retrieved my hand and brought us into the parking lot for the apartment complex where I lived, wheeling up in front of the four-story where my apartment was located. "Usually, I back in," I related, "But I don't want to confuse Vickie." Irma made no reply; she was busy tucking her bra into the bag of goodies from the sex shop. I came around the back of the car and popped open the passenger door, then looked around to check on Vickie. Vickie wheeled up two slots over - which wasn't far enough. "Vickie!" I shouted. "Not there! They call the guy who owns that one Oscar the Grouch, and believe me, you don't wanna meet him!"

"No?" Irma queried as I handed her out of the car.

"No," I confirmed. "If Vickie runs afoul of Oscar, she might discover BDSM!" I got the chuckle again with that one.

We went inside, me holding the door for the women. I couldn't quite figure out what we were gonna do with Vickie - I wanted no part of her. Things were gonna get strained, fast. Now, there was nothing objectively wrong with Vickie - I had buddies who would stand in line to take care of her action - but I'd made commitments to Irma, and I'd been damned happy with the returns, thus far. I knew better than to try to add Vickie to the mix - it would end up diluted, and everything would flush. 'So, what the fuck do I do with her?' I wondered, as we tramped up the stairs. "Sorry," I apologized, "I have a small place, on the top floor." We wandered down he hall, and I punched through between the girls to get to my door and unlock it before they arrived. I took a quick glance inside, and breathed a sigh of relief - I couldn't remember how bad a mess I'd left. I had a studio; to the left was the living area, a couch and a chair facing the entertainment center along the left wall. Along the back wall was the kitchen area (dirty dishes in the sink weren't stacked TOO high, thank God!) and to the right was the bath along the back wall (the only fully enclosed area in the place) and the bedroom - not much more than a niche with bed and a small TV at the foot on the dresser. "This is it," I announced, primarily to Vickie, "As you can see, there is no bondage gear visible, and I've cleaned up the bloodstains after my last conquest." I eyed Vickie with some asperity, while Irma wandered over to the couch and dropped the bag on the coffee table, then bent over and started digging stuff out. She laid out the vibe and its various tips on the table, then collected the movies and stepped around it, headed for my VCR/DVD player. I watched this for a moment, kind of bemused, then returned my attention to Vickie. "Uh, Vickie, okay, you know where I live, and you've had a look around. Irma and I are gonna make out; if you hang around for that, there could be, uh, general embarrassment."

"Yeah," Vickie smiled nastily, "and if I hang out long enough, maybe nothing will happen!"

I had no answer for this - but Irma did! "Vickie, Mike and I are gonna go nuts on each other, and probably fuck like bunnies. If you insist on hanging out, and you mess with us for anything less than Mike chasing me with a butcher knife, we won't leave here friends! You understand?"

I just stood there with my mouth open. The look on Vickie's face was priceless. Finally, she burst out, "Irma, you sound like a total slut! Jeezus!"

"Well?" Irma retorted. "When he hasn't had to deal with you, and could concentrate on me, Mike's been real nice! And he's bent over backwards over YOUR sorry ass! I'm here, and it's a LOT more than I expected to accomplish when we walked in that store! I'm here and I'm gonna enjoy myself - and if you fuck it up..." Irma's face started working, and I went on red alert - this was bad, no question! I threw myself across the room, and grasped Irma's shoulders from behind, slowly turning her around and tucking her in as those shoulders shook. I held her there for a bit, rubbing her back and glaring daggers at Vickie, then I pointedly ignored her as I lowered my lips to Irma's neck. Gooseflesh rippled, and Irma very quickly stopped sniffling and started writhing slowly. "Ummmmm, how can a girl stay unhappy when you're doing THAT!"

I wasn't complaining. Irma was soft and curvy, and the parts of her I was feeling rub against me had my cock emulating an iron pipe! "Let's go sit down," Irma suggested breathlessly, and, wordless, I drew her around the coffee table to the couch. Irma unleashed a short glare at Vickie and grated, "If you insist on waiting for the axe to fall, go sit over there! I'm gonna ignore you, and I'm gonna do my best to see to it that Mike does, too!" I watched Vickie settle into the side chair, then turned toward Irma - I planned to pointedly ignore the little snit. Irma puckered her lips and closed her eyes, and it became real easy to do - the next time I surfaced, I had two handfuls of breast flesh, and Irma was panting, "Mike, take those damned jeans off!" I backed off, and reached for my fly - but it was already open, so I hopped up and started to shuck out of them, leaving my boxers on. Irma sat up, executed some flip, and her top went flying toward the bedroom. I just stood there, transfixed, one foot hung up in my jeans leg. I'd been right - Irma's breasts weren't calendar girl stuff; they were kind of lumpy looking, and loose and saggy - but they were big, and they sported a pair of really nice nipples that my fingers had already found and approved of. I managed not to fall on my face and bored back in, laying lips on the left one and starting a gentle chew. "Uuuuummmmmm," Irma moaned, and laid back flat, her head supported by the couch arm. I snatched a pillow for her neck without letting go of her chewy bud. I worked it a couple of minutes, Irma holding my head in place, and when she let up, I reared up, snatched off my sweatshirt, and went after the other. A couple of minutes later, she drew me up to her cherry red face and panted, "Touch me!"

I took her lips and slid my hand over a surprisingly hard belly - that womanly curve WASN'T soft flab; it was rigid, panting muscle - under the waistband of her pants and into a jungle of kinky curls, drawn to a valley of humid warmth. My middle finger slipped over the pubic bone, and was immediately sliding alongside a ridge of firm pulsing flesh. I pinned Irma's clit between my middle and index fingers, and Irma moaned into my mouth and undulated beneath me. I had to break the kiss to hold my position; when I backed off, her eyes flew open and she hissed urgently, "Promise me you're gonna fuck me!"

Instinctively, I knew what she wanted. I leaned forward, continuing to work my fingers on her clit, and murmured, "I'm gonna fuck your brains out! I'm gonna put my hot rod in your swampy pussy and turn your insides to butter!" That's all it took; Irma's eyes rolled up and she clutched me to her while her hips rolled and my hand became soaking wet from the boiling fluids pouring out of her opening. I kept the hand moving, and gently sank my teeth into her neck and she keened wordlessly, arching herself despite my weight on her.

This was fucking great! If I never fucked Irma, I'd be able to beat off to the memory of this moment when I was ninety! There was such a feeling of power to feeling her surge under me, arching and gasping and clutching... I'd fucked a couple of girls in my time, and in general, they hadn't reacted as strongly as Irma had, riding my fingers! She settled, and was suddenly cuddly, snuggling up and wrapping herself to me in a soft, pliant layer. She reached down and gently removed my hand, panting, "Give me a minute - it's too much right now..."

I grinned in delight, and brought my hand up to my face, It was sticky, and smelled delicious! I made a production out of licking off my damp fingers, noisily enjoying her secretions while she blushed furiously, eyes dancing. Then I ground my still boxer-encased cock against her mound, watching her eyes go glassy. I'd never held such power, ever! "What do you want to do now?" I queried.

"Take your boxers off," Irma directed. "I'm gonna lay down with my head in your lap, and we can watch a movie! When I've watched a bit, and have some idea, can I suck it?"

"It's a plan," I allowed. "But we're gonna fuck! I have GOT to have that hot box of yours!"

"Oh, yeah! Absolutely!" Bright green eyes engaged mine while she nodded vigorously. "But I want to feel it for a while, first..."

"Okay, but you bare yours, too - I wanna see it!" I crawled off her and stood to shuck my shorts. And at that point, we both remembered Vickie, for she gasped out loud!

"Omigawd!" I turned my head to see Vickie, mouth covered, eyeing my erection. I was somewhat nonplussed - it's just a cock, after all... A bit over seven and a half inches, cut... "You're HUGE!"

"Really?" I blinked. "Not that I'm aware of..."

"My boyfriend is only..." Vickie measured out about five inches or so.

I scratched my head and turned to Irma who was grinning from ear to ear and nodding. "I've seen it!"

I shrugged. "When he was peeing? It's never big, then..."

"Uh uh," Irma disagreed, "I caught him with Vickie, 'laying pipe' - that's what he calls fucking!" Irma giggled. How could such a big girl have such a high-pitched giggle?

"Well, I'm sure you didn't see him at his best, or something." I was kind of embarrassed - and Vickie had this look... Of course, she'd been watching us, and I knew I was hot - and Irma had cum... I plopped on the couch, my cock standing up like a flag pole. Irma stood, and her sweat pants (or whatever - track suit? Pajamas?) hit the floor. "Hold still, Hon," I directed, and when Irma obeyed, I got a good look at her from the left rear.

Okay, her ass was a bit blocky, and she was running a little cellulite down the insides of her thighs. So? There was some nice muscle there, too... I reached up and ran my hand over the left cheek of her ass, feeling the flesh, which was firm, despite the padding. Mmmmmm. After a moment, I shifted focus, to find Irma regarding me with a bit of anxiety. I grinned, and she grinned back, as I caught her hand and pulled her onto the couch. Irma settled across my stomach, leaning on an elbow, and I had a pleasing mass of tit flesh draped along my right leg. A reverent hand played with my cock for a second, then reached out to the display of vibrator components on the table. "I don't think we're going to need that tonight," I hazarded.

Irma waved me down close, giggling, and replied in a whisper, "Yeah, but Vickie might!"

I glanced over and beheld Vickie, sitting with both hands crushed between her knees, obviously in a somewhat rough state. Anyone could tell she was itchy... "You don't have to put yourself through this - by now, it should be obvious that Irma's safe..."

"I'm staying!" Vickie reiterated.

"Suit yourself..." I went back to ignoring her. Vickie wasn't my damned problem - I had Irma, and dividing my attention was NOT on the agenda!

I returned my attention to Irma, who was smiling up at me. "Can we see a movie now?" she asked.

"You put it in the VCR?" I asked. She nodded, and I leaned forward a bit and collected the remote with my left hand and a handful of Irma's right breast in my right. Sweet! In a moment, the screen lit. I switched inputs from cable to the VCR and fired it up. After the FBI warning, it became evident that Irma had picked the 'Fuck My Wife' flick; the usual idiots sat around socializing about what her fantasies might be before they proceeded to cuckold the poor husband by bringing in two big blacks to pound the shit out of his big-titted blonde wife. As the blacks on-screen started mauling the blonde's tits, I started working Irma's nipple. She groaned and started rubbing her cheek along my cock, which was MADDENING! "Jeezus, Hon! Easy! I haven't had any in a while! You'll have to shower to get the goo out of your hair!"

"But it's SOO hot!" she moaned. "God, I love the smell!" She dragged her nose along the upper slope, inhaling, and I barely missed busting a nut in her face!

"AAAAHHH!" I groaned. "Hon, we may, uh have to let you do the blowjob thing to take the edge off. I'm 'way too much on edge..."

"Mmmmm! Goody!" Irma settled back to watch the flick for a bit - but she was cradling my balls, gently rolling them in their sack. I sat there, on tenterhooks. The woman was unbelievable! Such a slut! I was in Heaven! Well, if she was going to tease me... I pulled her right knee up and used the access to start playing with her fringed pussy lips, coming in from behind. It didn't seem to matter that I couldn't get to her clitoris or deep into her little tight hole; just running my fingers along the damp channel and tugging on the lips elicited delighted groans.

The blonde on the screen began worshipping one of the blacks' cocks with her mouth, and after a moment, soft lips began dragging up and down the upper slope of mine. It felt SOOOO nice, but I figured that I could hold out; Irma wasn't messing with the head, or the more sensitive underside. I leaned over and came at her right tit kind of awkwardly, with my left hand, while I continued to play with her fringed lips with my right. Irma began to whine around my cock, and I grinned - then I became aware that the whine was in stereo... Irma surged up and snatched up the vibrator, firing it off in an underhand toss and hissing "Vickie!" in an urgent voice. I looked over at the chair, where Vickie, both feet up and her right hand buried inside the waistband of her sweatpants, was making a wild, left-handed grab for the vibrator. She snatched her hand free and blushed scarlet, but held onto the vibrator; I found myself wondering whether she was watching the video or Irma and I? But then I stopped wondering about much of anything, as soft, warm lips enveloped the head of my cock!

"Oooooohhhh!" I went totally rigid, both legs stuck out in front of me as I reached for the will to keep from shooting right down Irma's throat. I thought I was going to lift the coffee table! I looked down at Irma, who, one eye on the screen, was apparently emulating the blonde on screen move for move. I was 'way too far gone - the whole thing had me seriously over- stimulated. I had a few seconds to plead through gritted teeth, "Irma. (gasp), Honey, (wheeze), swallow (uuuuuhhhhh) PLEEEEEZE!" Then the earthquake began and my cock started surging. Laughing green eyes regarded me until the first shot went down range, then they widened in shock; Hell, I don't think I'd EVER cum that hard! But Irma gamely swallowed while I poured what seemed like a quart down her throat; I held her head in place - gently, but she wasn't going anywhere... When I started drifting to earth, I became aware of a distant buzzing, thrashing and groans. Vickie, all pretense at decorum gone, had kicked her sweatpants to her ankles and was biting a hand and whimpering while furiously wielding the vibrator. Oh, and there was no question - her eyes were glued on Irma and I, NOT the screen! Well, fuck her - or not, as the case may be. I ran my hand through Irma's sweaty locks and smiled at her, murmuring, "God, Sweetie, that was Heaven!"

Irma swallowed a couple of times, then the throaty chuckle surfaced. "I thought you weren't big on blowjobs?"

"Well, uh, it's all about who's doing it, I guess..." I faltered.

"Ummm, yeah," Irma chuckled turning her attention back to the screen. "That one was a lot shorter than I expected."

My ego bruised a bit under that hit, so I was a bit waspish as I retorted, "So? I seem to remember you doing the mambo a minute ago, under very little impetus - and I'M not complaining!"

"Ummm, so we both can get a little carried away. That's a good thing, right?"

I didn't waste a whole lot of effort with my response; the blonde on screen had gotten beyond blowjobs and was kneeling up to take the first black's horse cock - and Irma was all attention. "See, I'm not THAT huge," I ventured.

"Plenty for me." Irma lay back across me in her original position, licking and sucking, and fondling my testicles, while watching the blonde take ten inches of meat under the eyes of her husband. "Wow," she gasped.

"How much you wanna bet it gets better?" I smirked. After all, the other black wasn't there for decoration...

Irma turned wondering green eyes on me, "Really?"

"Hide and watch," I advised. I leaned over and got my hand into a position where I COULD get to her clit, and I started seriously working over her furry gash. It was pretty neat, actually; with her leg up, and most of me positioned behind her on the couch, I got a view along her asscheeks. Puffy external labia made a neat, tight clam, enclosing thin, narrow lips that protruded just a bit. This was eating pussy, and I vowed to get me some before she got away... I glanced up; the blonde was riding on top, cowgirl. In moments, I figured the other black would enter the picture...

I wasn't wrong; it wasn't thirty seconds later that Irma husked "Omigod!" and I glanced up to catch the second black sinking his cock into the blonde's ass. This seemed to really work Irma up; I resolved to follow THAT up, too, if the opportunity presented itself - so few women were obviously turned on by anal sex. As a matter of fact... I wet a finger, and began probing at her little bud, and Irma came unglued. "Oh, shit!" she squealed, "I'm on fire! Let's fuck!"

I was good with that - I'd never gone down after the blowjob, actually. There were courtesies to be observed, though... "Do you want a rubber, Hon?"

"Uh uh," she gasped, rolling over flat on her back, "If I wanted a rubber thing, I could have bought one at the store!"

Good enough! I rolled over the back of the couch while she settled herself flat, then came at her from 'below' coming over the couch arm and working my way up from her feet. The early intent was to bow to her sense of urgency, but I HAD to stop for a taste... Irma didn't complain as my tongue slid over her clit; in fact her knees popped open and she guided my head as I worked her over for a bit. But soon, she started juddering, and pushed my head back, moaning, "Later! I want it, NOW!" Good enough; she was soaking wet, so I knelt up and prepared to spike her to the couch.

... Only it didn't happen that way. I snugged up the head of my cock to her opening, and it flowed over it, SLOOOOWLY, and I thought, 'Damn, she's tight!' I gave it a second, shifted my stance, and powered forward, figuring that now the head was in, the rest wouldn't be any big deal, right? But it WAS! Irma let out a screech and I FELT the reason why...

Totally stupefied, I lifted myself to the vertical and pulled back a bit. Sure enough, there was blood all over the place! My dream slut was a virgin? What the fuck? I went instantly into the shrunken head zone: "Jeezus, Hon! Why didn't you tell me? I'd have done things different..." Now I'd hurt the silly bitch! 'What to do?' I dithered. 'If I keep going, isn't that selfish?' 'If I don't, then her memory of the big day is limited to the pain... ' I was all fucked up - felt like I could've given shoe shines to cockroaches. It's a wonder I didn't shrink to the size of a peanut in about six seconds.

Ultimately, Irma solved my quandary. I made an abortive move to withdraw, and she wrapped her legs around the backs of my thighs, trapping me. Wet green eyes engaged mine and a husky voice croaked, "Wrong way..." I did the only things I could think of; I reached down and started working her clit with my right hand, bracing myself on my left, and leaned down to engage her right nipple, too, with my lips - any little thing to make her happy, at that point. Fairly quickly, she loosened up, though, and in a couple of minutes, I was getting little flicks and touches that encouraged me to bury myself deeper. I moved in, taking my time and paying attention this time, until things were too tight to maintain the finger work - so I started grinding my pelvis against Irma's, still working the lip-lock on her nipple. After a bit, the sounds she was making got to be encouraging, and her hips started moving. I looked up, and she locked eyes with me and said, "It's better, now - let's move a bit."

I disengaged from the nipple to talk, and said, "I'm sure sorry. I didn't realize..."

Irma grinned tightly. "And I didn't let on, because I didn't want you to get noble ideas and maybe stop. Don't worry about it. Why don't you try a couple of easy ones?"

I backed off, slow - largely because things were still mighty tight - then rolled forward, watching her eyes. The look they took on said I could go again - a bunch of times. I cycled through a couple of easy ins and outs, and Irma husked, "Shit, that's good! Okay, let's go! Start easy, but I wanna do that!" She flicked her eyes at the TV screen.

'That' was beyond my capabilities - it was actually a sandwich, with the blonde in the middle, lying on her back with a cock in her ass while the guy on top long-stroked her - but I could do the upper layer. I ran through about a dozen strokes, going longer and harder with each one, watching her face light up. At that point, I said, "See where her legs are? I can get more on it..." Irma took the hint, pulling her legs up. I raised up to let them pass, then pinned them against her shoulders, and took off at a steady, driving pace like a disco beat. For a while, Irma shuttled her attention between the flick and me, but then her ass developed this wiggle, and while her head swung back and forth, it was back and forth, if you know what I mean. Her eyes were glassy, and she started to whine and pant. Next, her hips started to roll and she started going,"Oh... Oh... Oh..." pretty steadily, every time I hit her pubic bone. Suddenly, she grabbed me, and her eyes locked on mine and got REAL BIG; the volume level went 'way up, and she went "OH! OH! OOOOH! OH, THANK GOD!!!!!" Her eyes rolled up and she arched herself, and I suddenly discovered that the muscles in that little hard belly of hers worked on the INSIDE, too! Her pussy started making like a milking machine, and there was no fucking way I was gonna keep my load - not that I wanted to! I started trying to push my cock clear through her cervix, and blew like there was no tomorrow - Christ, I have no idea what kind of unholy noise I was making; my mind was riding with the first blast of cum as it came rocketing out, headed downrange toward the opening at the bottom of that hot, wet, milking pussy!

I came back from la la land to find my arms shaking like palsy, just as Irma stopped straining against me, gave a musical little "Aaaahh!" - and went totally limp. My heart damned near stopped - I was sure she'd gone right on out, and I was gonna have to explain how I'd poked a hole in a chick and she'd bled to death, cumming, or something! But when I laid my head on her chest, her heart was going strong, and I settled down and tried to get a little control of my shaky parts. I hung over her, panting, and closed my eyes for a second, and when I re-opened them, hers were open, too. "What happened?" she asked, a little thickly.

"Um, well, you can check me on this, but I THINK you came like a wild thing, then passed out!" I hazarded.

"Ummmm." She laid there for a moment, eyes closed, then she rolled out this smile - gave me goosebumps! "Man, that was SOOOO good! I'm still kinda... loose..." We met each other halfway in a kiss, and things went away for a while.

The next thing I was conscious of was a voice in my ear husking, "Man, that was SOOO hot!" I looked up to find Vickie standing there, buck naked, eyes as big as saucers. I was less than charitable: "You're still here?"

Vickie totally passed it off, her attention on Irma as she asked, "Was that as good as it looked?"

Irma reissued that freaky smile, and purred, "Better!" and my head suddenly grew to a size that wouldn't fit any of my hats... But she shrunk it right away, by the simple expedient of turning to me and asking "More?"

I froze and started taking inventory. One thing was certain - I was a quart low on sperm! But what was the status of the delivery system? I pulled back a bit, determining that I was still sheathed, then mentally crossed my fingers as I slid back forward. Would I just go squish, limp as a dishrag? Or...

Noooo, I had a serviceable hard - not great at the start, but a couple of strokes had it fully operational. I grinned relief, and Irma smiled satisfaction. I dropped low over her, my head next to hers, and she panted softly, her arms rubbing my back, "Don't hold back, Lover - take this one!" A switch flipped in my head, the turbocharger came on, and I started pounding that sweet pussy like there was no tomorrow! Irma got her ankles crossed over my back, and met me, stroke for stroke, humming, while I started making like a human jackhammer. Then hum got louder and louder, until she was going "Um... Um... Um..." while her hips rolled. I had my head wedged against the couch arm, driving, when Irma suddenly arched, went "Oohh! OOHH!! OOOOOHHH!!!" - and I couldn't move; she had me locked down tight while she hung from me, straining.

This went on for about thirty seconds, and it was Heavenly - but I had control, and when she let up and sagged back to the couch, I kicked it into gear again. I rose up and became aware of the sound of the vibrator, muffled, behind me. Soft fingers caressed my balls. Irma's hands were accounted for; her arms were sliding up and down my back, so...

Little Vickie had one knee on the couch, leaning in to watch the point of contact where Irma's and my crotches were sliding into and out of attachment. One hand was in there, playing, and one hand was working at her clit, furiously; the vibrator was nowhere in sight, but the sound said she had it buried deep. I gave her the fish eye and said, "Don't mess with me - my attention is on Irma! You wanna mess with someone, help HER out!" Five seconds later, I discovered I was going to have to work bolt upright, at least - Vickie locked her lips around Irma's right nipple. Irma purred, her hips started rolling again, and I frowned in irritation - the little bitch was keeping me from kissing Irma! It took me a minute, but I managed to brace against Vickie's back and engage Irma's lips while maintaining a decent drive - and if Vickie got squashed, so what? Pretty quick, Irma started whimpering, so I pulled back to let her breathe, knowing she was in final again - and she followed me up, basically backhanding Vickie and keening as she again mashed herself against me, pinning me in place.

Irma collapsed again, and I started feeling the strain as I kicked off again. I knew that this one was going to be a race: I was going to cum, or crash, or if I was lucky, bring Irma one more time. Vickie was sitting on the coffee table, looking shocky. Well, if she wanted to help... "Take her tits!" I directed, and Vickie obediently came around across the couch arm over our heads, and started playing with Irma's nipples. I stayed up, nearly vertical, holding her love handles and driving steadily as I could against the exhaustion and the roller coaster of sensations. Irma's hands, loosened from my back and with nothing to do, settled on Vickie's titties, then one dove over the couch arm and apparently recovered the vibrator from her crotch and began applying it to her clit. Vickie's eyes got glassy, bugged, and she dropped forward to press her lips to mine; I wasn't pleased, but, what the Hell? Besides, Irma's hips were starting that terminal roll, and none too soon! I broke the kiss, dropped my head into Vickie's shoulder, biting her neck, got in five more strokes, with an added snap of the hips at the end, and blew, just as Irma took my hips in both hands and pinned me, squalling, "God! AGAIN!!!!" Vickie went stiff, too - some kind of sympathetic detonation thing, I guess. I just dropped out, at that point...

I woke up, thirty seconds to a half hour later - I couldn't say which - to laughing green eyes. "Mike? I gotta pee..." I did, too, for that matter. Vickie was... elsewhere, apparently. I levered myself up, amazed at how weak I felt, and summoned the strength to assist what had already become my all-time favorite woman from the couch. The TV was displaying a second scene, some brunette swapping back and forth between two cocks. I couldn't have cared less. Vickie, I discovered, had beaten us to the bathroom. She came out and started dressing, going "That was hot!" blah, blah, blah. I had a half dozen buddies who would line up to handle her action, but I had no interest - she was just an idiot piece of ass. Her only value in my estimation was that she was Irma's friend and had gone to the wall to watch over her - even THAT took some doing to set in as the proper mindset. After that, she was tolerable...

Irma came out, and I rushed into the bathroom. I had a five minute piss to do, but was scared to death that if I went that long, Irma wouldn't be there when I came out! Fear overcame pride, and I shouted, "Don't go ANYWHERE!" as I slammed the bathroom door. I stopped, twice, to check on her while I peed - do you know how HARD that is? - but she was slowly dressing, taking her time, smiling. I came out and started crawling into my pants, the last one to dress, trying to distract her with, "You want a Coke, or something, Hon?" ANYTHING to keep her parked on my couch!

"No, we probably ought to split..." Irma replied.

I'm not good at the social thing - too honest. But I knew if I drooled on her I'd be fucked, so I took it easy, "Okay. I'd, uh, like to see you again, though. Wanna give me your number?"

Downtrodden Irma surfaced. She stared at her feet and mumbled, "You don't hafta..."

I TOLD you I was no good at this... God knows what expressions flickered across my face while I stepped through the following thought process: 'I don't hafta? The best piece of ass I ever had drops her cherry on my sofa and when I ask her for her number, she says I don't hafta? What did I fuck up? Do I smell bad? Does my breath stink? She kissed me... ' I don't know what I looked like, and Irma wasn't looking, but Vickie snorted laughter.

Irma glanced up at Vickie, and I shot her a glare that should have burnt her to a crisp, but at that point, all my social tools were expended, and I had to fall back on the old standby (which failed me, regularly), truth. "Hon, believe me, 'hafta' doesn't enter into it. 'Wanna' is the operative word. Really." Stupid, huh? Especially the 'really'...

Irma gave me this sidelong, 'Yeah, sure... ' look, then she started SERIOUSLY examining her shoes. "Um, while we're being, uh, honest with one another, I'm, uh, not... protected. It didn't seem necessary..."

I'd had that card played on me before. In high school, after a relatively uncomfortable escapade with a cum-dumpster who had boogied with half the senior class, she'd come out with similar. It was a regular pattern with her, too - she didn't like the feel of rubbers, and apparently couldn't afford the Pill. Later, she turned up pregnant, and my name apparently appeared on her list of fools stupid enough to support her and her kid. I didn't roll over, however - I demanded proof, and she moved on to another potential gold mine. So I was sensitive to this; if Vickie, for instance, had come out with it, I'd have offered her a quickie abortion by the simple expedient of frog-marching her out my fourth story window! The flip side? Well, that was Irma's cherry, slicking up the leather on my couch. And I was desperate for a reason to keep seeing her - after all, she was ONLY the finest little piece of ass I'd ever had... I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that my mouth got ahead of my brain... I grinned from ear to ear and came out with, "So, if you turn up pregnant, you'll have to come back and see me, huh?"

To say that this response was a surprise would be understatement. Irma expected bluster and denial, and looked up at me, wide-eyed and confused. Instinctively, she backpedaled with, "I wouldn't hafta..."

But I had a handle, and I wasn't letting go! "Yes, you would. I'd demand paternity rights, back to the moment of conception! You'll have to take me to Lamaze classes!" Irma sat there looking dazed and confused, mumbling, "It was the heat of the moment..."

... And Vickie fell out. She thought the whole thing was funny as Hell! Irma looked at her like she had two heads, and I just stood there - my mouth had run enough! Finally, Vickie got control over her diaphragm, and wheezed, "Irma, wake up! What did he tell you?"

"That he wanted to see me again." Irma shrugged dismissively. Obviously, she was widely experienced with the less than honest...

Vickie got a grip, cocked her head, and examined Irma cross-eyed. "Jeezus, you're dense! Okay, so then you hit him with something that SHOULD have ended with you standing in the hallway, with a pair of broken eardrums from the scream of outrage! Right?"

"Uh huh," Irma glanced at me, gave her head a little shake, and sat mumbling to herself.


"Um, it didn't happen," Irma admitted. "Although I'm not sure why..."

Vickie rolled her eyes. "It's because you're over-complicating things! Look, pretend you're a guy. You pick up a girl. You take her to your place. You wanna fuck, and she is more than happy to oblige! So you fuck like minks, and she even gives you her cherry! How do you feel toward her when it's over?"

Irma suddenly couldn't look in my direction. "Disgusted? Like she's a slut?"

Vickie shook her head. "Female thinking. Let's ask the expert."

"Hmmm, well, as much as I hate to admit it, we're simple, greedy creatures. Besides, you under-represented the whole thing - the actual scenario is more like I've just had a bout of the most incredible sex ever!" I smiled. "Oh, and while the term 'slut' apparently has negative connotations for women, guys tend to view it in a more positive light. Sort of on the order of 'dream girl'."

Vickie snickered. Irma discovered she COULD look at me, if she worked at it... "So, what's the plan?" Vickie prompted.

"Simple," I replied, "and greedy! Get more pussy! Make every effort to corner the market! Take her out and make her happy, so you can crawl between her legs and get some more!" I came forward and locked eyes with Irma, "Ask her for her fucking telephone number..."

"Oh, Lord!" Irma giggled.

Vickie laughed, "Yes, girlfriend, there ARE people in the world as dumb but honest as you are - and most of 'em are male!"

"Thanks, I think!" I retorted. I bored in and laid my lips on Irma's neck, going for the hot spot below her ear. After a moment I backed off and locked eyes with her. "Like that?"

"God, yes!"

"Then gimme your fucking phone number!"

Irma eyed me dubiously, "You REALLY want to see me again?"

"If I had MY way, you WOULDN'T LEAVE!" I declared.

"Oh! Well, gimme something to write on, then..." I handed her a pad and pen, twin to the one I'd had in the car and used to give Vickie my vital stats. Then I wrote my stuff down again and gave it to her. Just because Vickie had apparently come to the rescue didn't mean I trusted her once she was out of sight... I glanced over Irma's info, hoping like Hell it was the real thing, while she got up and she and Vickie made for the door. Vickie smirked, "Wait'll she gets to the end of the hall before you call her..."

Huh! No fucking way! Not if Vickie wanted it! I wedged myself between Irma and the door, "I want to go out! Tomorrow! A movie, or something! You pick it - get a newspaper, or something - I'll call you and we'll lock it down, okay?"

Irma blinked, "Okay."


"When what?"

"When do I call you?"

"Oh." Irma considered a moment. "Ten. I should know something by then."

"Cool." I got out of the way, but I stuck my tongue out at Vickie as she went by. She giggled.

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