This all happened a couple winters ago.

Now and then I like to go into town and rent a hotel suite with a gal buddy and go out drinking and seeing a movie or play or dance performance followed by some red-hot fuck buddy sex.

My friend Cindy and I rented a suite in a downtown Cleveland hotel. Here's a shot she took of me from the night in question:

I had just tried a new hair parlor and the girl really screwed up not only my cut but the dye job. I hate the hair in this photo, but it gives you an idea of the place we were in.

We went shopping in the mall under the Terminal Tower and had dinner down in The Flats with a view of the mouth of the Cuyahoga River at night. Then, we went to a movie in the theaters they've built in the Terminal Tower, and of course we gave each other frantic hand jobs, hardly paying any attention to the movie and trying not to attract too much attention from the 20 or so others in the theater, since some of them were obviously family groups.

Back out on the street, we were walking the 8 or 9 blocks back to our hotel when we spied a girl crying in the corner of a recessed doorway. Cindy grabbed my sleeve to stop me and said, "Let's check this out. Maybe we can help."

"What's wrong, sweetie," said Cindy, ever the sympathetic soul. The girl could hardly talk her weeping was so uncontrollable. She finally conveyed that her boyfriend had dumped her for her best friend and had done so right on the sidewalk next to the doorway.

"Fuck no!" I said. "How base can you get?!!!" Cindy agreed and said, "Come with us. We'll treat you to a drink." The girl, named Missy, was glad for any sign of kindness and sadly accepted. We walked to the lounge bar of our hotel and while Cindy and I had some Great Lakes Dortmunder, we got her a Long Island Iced Tea. Well, actually it was two of them. We were there nearly two hours, so by the time we were done, she was certainly pretty tipsy, but not toilet-hugging drunk.

She told us the long and dismal story of her relationship with this cad and we listened, empathizing with stories from our own lives of boys we'd rather forget.

By now, it was well after midnight and it turned out that he had left her downtown with an empty purse. She was a dorm student at a college way out in the far eastern burbs and while we would gladly have driven her back earlier in the day, it was too late and we were too drunk for the round trip, which would easily have taken about an hour and a half. This would have come out of time we planned to be doing some serious pussy-licking, so in the spirit of "The more the merrier," we invited her to spend the night with us, along with a promise to drive her back to her dorm the next day.

We got to the room and after she took off her coat and jacket, we saw the bruises on her arm from where he had gripped her during their argument. Our contempt for this jerk was starting to become hatred, for Missy was a really nice, cool chick. From leaning in the doorway, she had gotten some grime on her face and one of her knees, so we suggested a shower.

Now, unlike guys, girls are pretty accustomed to disrobing in front of each other. We all stripped down to nothing in the bedroom and it was then Cindy and I discovered that underneath her pretty face with her conservative brunette flip was a curvy hourglass figure bedecked with very small (almost not there) boobs and a really well-groomed wedge of brunette pussy hair. (I love hairy pussies. Even though I shave, my own pussy goes tropical when I see a hairy one!)

This suite had an oversize glassed-in shower with not one but two showerheads, each one equipped with a girl's best friend: a shower massage. At first we just individually showered and washed our hair using the little soap bars and teensy bottles of shampoo and conditioner thoughtfully supplied by the hotel. Funny, if a bottle of shampoo at home had such a small quantity of shampoo, it might have been tossed by now!

Before long, we were soaping and washing each other with the hotel wash cloths and having a gay old time (pun intended).

Now, I haven't described Cindy yet, have I? She's a professional model and is about 5'10". Don't picture an oversized anorexic giraffe of a girl. Cindy has hips, a great ass, and indescribably gorgeous B-cub breasts with tiny dark nickel-sized nips. For some reason (maybe overstimulation) she can lactate. She swears she's never been preggers and certainly has never delivered a baby. I've read about it: it happens.

Cindy said, "You know what? I want to watch you guys masturbate with those shower massages!" I looked at Missy, who seemed both excited and frightened at the same time.

"I'll do it," I said looking at Cindy. "Let's do it together."

"I don't know..." she said.

"Watch me," I said. And then I unhooked the massager, started it, set the spray to full throb and applied it to my vulva. Wow! This has to be one of the most thrilling experiences a girl can have by herself.

Missy soon unhooked hers and started masturbating with me. I put my free arm around her and hugged her to my side. Soon, her head was on my shoulder and I could hear her breathing shallowly and haltingly.

By this time, Cindy was on the floor masturbating furiously by hand.

I came first and put my shower massage back up on its hook. I then turned my attention to Missy's puffy pink nipples, licking and sucking them and pinching and rolling them in my fingers. She was obviously on the brink of a big orgasm and just needed a nudge.

Apparently Cindy, who had cum by now, noticed this and crept on hands and knees over to Missy, pushing the shower massage aside and applying her mouth in its stead. I continued to work on Missy's nipples and in a minute or two we discovered something delightful: Missy is a screamer!

Having all orgasmed, we dried each other off, dried and brushed our hair, and retired to the gigantic bed.

We turned on the American Movie Classics channel and watched an old James Bond movie, laughing at how almost all of the Bond girls never amount to much after they appear in the movies. The exceptions could almost be counted on one hand.

Cindy is always horny, like me, and we both had the hots for Missy. We had made her somewhat happy and her feelings toward us were obviously congenial, so it was Cindy who said it out loud. "My eyes want to sleep but my pussy wants to fuck!"

"Thought you'd never ask!" I replied and did I see a devilish grin cross Missy's face? Yes!

Missy was flat on her back between us. I got on my knees between her legs and started licking her stiff little clit. Almost immediately, loud noises of pleasure erupted from her lovely pink lips (the lips on her face, silly!). Cindy came around back and stuck her tongue deep into my asshole while finding and fingering the old G-spot.

It was all I could do to keep from cumming early on and finally i had to shake my booty to make her stop. So, Cindy crawled up started frenching Missy, who knew, I'm sure, where Cindy's mouth had been. In her rapture, she just plain didn't care.

I grabbed a pillow and propped it under Missy's ass, pushing her knees up to her tits. I started in doing some serious tushy licking of my own, enjoying the delicious smell of her pussy as I did so.

Cindy's hand pushed my head aside and using two fingers, she finger-fucked the nearly hysterical girl furiously. I wetted my "fuck you" finger and slowly penetrated Missy's asshole until I was all the way in with only the big knuckle showing. Then I slowly and gently moved my finger in and out. Shortly, she was screaming her lungs out as she had in the shower. When we heard pounding on the wall, we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe, and then I pounded the wall in reply.

Cindy came my way and sucked my finger, which was freshly out of Cindy's asshole. This made me hot and I took her tongue into my mouth. That burning taste that you get from anal/oral sex made me almost orgasmic right then and there, but it wasn't until Missy started sucking on my pussy that I had an overwhelming series of orgasms.

The next thing I knew, Missy was fingering Cindy. Now, one thing Missy didn't know that I did is that you can fist Cindy, but Missy soon found out that she could get not just one, but two, three and then four fingers into her Cindy's capacious cunt. Cindy told the confounded Missy, who apparently was unaware fisting was even possible, to keep going.

By now, I was relaxing on my tummy, resting my head on two hands and grinning like the Cheshire Cat at Missy's naivete. I told Missy, "She can take you halfway up your forearm if she likes you. I know because I've done it to her myself."

Just as I said, Missy's thumb, then wrist, then forearm slipped into the by now ecstatic Cindy. This put her into another world. I can do four fingers. I'd really like to know what a whole forearm feels like. (Someday...)

I crawled over and sucked hard on one of Cindy's breasts until I tasted her warm, sweet mother's milk flowing into my mouth. This sensation, plus some vigorous clit play gave me another quick orgasm, and another, and another.

As Missy's arm moved in and out, moans turned to grunts and then gasps and finally to a series of blood-curdling howls she stifled as best she could by putting her hand over her mouth.

Even so...more pounding on the wall. This time we didn't pound back.

When Missy slowly extracted her arm, Cindy expelled a small flood of fluids.

Cindy and I looked at each other and giggled. I then told the embarrassed Cindy, "You're sleeping on the wet spot."

In the morning we treated Missy to a hearty breakfast and drove her back to her dorm.

Later, when I told Erik about my weekend adventure, he laughed and said, "Let's have her for dinner sometime."

But that's another story.

The following happened late last September.

Erik and I are not the kind of people who fraternize with neighbors quite a bit, but there is an older couple, Arthur and Golda, who have gone out of their way to be neighborly. They are precious for being very traditional and in no way would the husband ever make a pass at me. They are too old for either of them to be physically attractive, so when we visit with them, it is certainly "safe" for them as well as for us.

Now, we found out a while ago that they were sponsoring an exchange student. In fact, I went to Cleveland Hopkins Airport with them as they met their student, who turned out to be a Brazilian girl of about twenty; named Astrud.

She is a lovely, short, brown-skinned girl who was wearing a large hat, a red print dress with a bold floral pattern much like a Hawaiian shirt, and platform shoes. Her lovely round face was framed flowing cascades of black hair that she let fall over the front and back of her shoulders.

We all stopped at a restaurant on the long trek back home because she had not eaten anything other than peanuts and cookies for quite a while and Arthur popped for a mid-afternoon lunch. Apparently fulfilling some sort of wish on a mental checklist she was keeping, she ordered what she called an "American cheeseburger" and ate it down like a wild dog devouring a gazelle before the lions or hyenas could come along and take it away.

She is a smart girl with a musical voice and a talent for making charming mistakes in English such as "please send me the salt" or "I go hit the homework now." Of course, I had the hots for her the first time I laid eyes on her, so when Arthur and Golda had to go to Florida to attend a funeral, I almost wet my pants as I volunteered to host her for a few days and watch Golda's precious house plant collection.

Golda gave me the keys to their place along with instructions for watering plants and feeding their cat and off they went.

I could see right away that Astrud was delighted to have a companion closer to her own age and was ready to have some fun, and naturally I was quite happy to oblige. I proposed that we go to a local mall, have dinner at a nice Thai restaurant I like, followed by a movie and then an evening of clubbing. Since it was a Friday, we could stay out quite late without either of us having to worry about getting up early in the morning.

Observing Astrud in a mall is like watching a child in a candy shop. Apparently her family is quite wealthy (they are part owners of a shipping company) and she seemingly could buy anything she wanted to buy, either for herself or for me. Thus, I steered her to the Victoria's Secret store, not just in hopes of stocking up on lingerie but also in hopes of sharing a changing room with this little dark-skinned goddess.

And so it was, I found myself with a particularly sexy midnight blue bra and panties set and a full-length sheer white nightie I've been eyeing for months. She picked out so many bras, teddies, bustiers, slips, nighties, silk blouses, and so on that the salesgirl wouldn't let her take them all into the changing room.

As we disrobed, I got my first look at this girl's body, which is so typically Brazilian. She had an exaggerated hourglass figure with a small waist and noticeable hips. Her legs were both slender and shapely. Her bust was fabulous with breasts each the size and shape of a halved grapefruit. She had a thick "landing strip" of pubic hair as well.

She was looking at me as well and commented in her halting way that natural redheads are rare in Sao Paulo, where she grew up, and that girls with skin as fair as mine were not common, either. I leveled with her that girls as sexy as her don't grow on trees in the United States, either.

As she looked at herself in the mirror to assess one of the slips she had bought, I came up behind her and put my hands around her waist. As I did so, she pushed her butt into my crotch and rubbed it side to side against my mons making my clit throb with delight. She then took my hands and put them over her breasts. I cupped them gently at first, then pinching her nipples sternly until I heard a small groan of delight.

"This, I think," she said, "is going to be a very nice day." "I think so, too," I agreed.

Parting her hair and kissing her on the shoulder by her neck, I suggested that we had better get going if we wanted time for a nice dinner before the movie.

I took her to a Jewish deli and introduced her to the delights of the corned beef sandwich. She said they had corned beef in Brazil, too, but that our corned beef was much more tender and that the thought of putting it in rye bread with mustard and blazing hot horseradish made it so much the better.

We stopped at a creamery and desserted on ice cream before driving to a multiplex and settling on a political thriller from an Eastern Bloc country. The point wasn't to find an interesting movie but quite the opposite: to end up in a theater as close to empty as possible so that we could make out.

As it turned out, we had chosen well because we were alone. Before the opening credits even started, we were Frenching like crazy with hands going every which way and beyond. She was driving me absolutely crazy.

We necked and petted for at least an hour before I decided to go all in and unwrap my wrap skirt. I laid it tidily over on the next seat and then removed my panties and put them on top.

I stepped over her legs facing her so that she couldn't possibly see the screen any longer (not that she had been). I kept my legs apart as an invitation. Her hands rubbed my thighs and tummy and reached up into my top, where she massaged my nipples for a few moments before scooting forward in her seat to lick my tummy.

Then I dropped back, putting my hands on the armrests of the seat in the next row. At the same time, I put my feet up on the arms of her seat so that I was pretty much laying back with my feet well apart. She accepted the invitation and was soon licking me out in a decidedly expert way. For Christ's sake! I was having an orgasm within a minute, then another and another.

It was then that I noticed three men who had entered the theater without being noticed and had been watching everything with interest. From the sounds they were making, I could tell they were speaking in Russian or some other Eastern European language. From the subtle motions they were making, it was obvious they were all fondling their cocks.

As soon as they realized I'd noticed them, first one and then the others stood to attention with their big cocks sticking out in front of them.

Astrud and I changed places after she removed her shorts and panties and I let her make the discovery of the observers on her own, and to my delight she was just as thrilled as I was to see them there.

I brought her to orgasm a few times.

By now the men had moved closer and were quite nearby. Near enough for me to grab the nearest cock and start teasing it with my tongue. Astrud was already blowing one guy and jacking off the other. Her technique was vigorous, almost angry, but it was also effective because the guy she was sucking came all over her cheek in a few minutes. She then got to work on the other one, letting him cum in her mouth.

My guy came at almost the same time, while I was deep throating him. I swallowed the load and thanked the guys for the use of their cocks. Astrud and I wiped off our faces with our hands, rubbing the juices into the skin of our tummies and thighs. We dressed and bid the boys farewell. They wanted to follow but I waved them off in no uncertain terms. Astrud and I were not looking for relationships.

We left and went to a club for a while, dancing both fast and slow dances together, refusing anyone who wanted to cut in.

We went home to find Erik waiting, a bit worried at why I was out so late. At first he was miffed, but not when both Astrud and I got into bed with him.

That was a glorious night full of all kinds of tender and raucus sex, and Erik quickly forgot his anger.

In a nearby city, there was a carnival last weekend. One of those church-sponsored things where the money goes to help with the upkeep of the church and its charitable activities.

Erik and I decided to go last Friday because this carnival was in support of an Italian church and we both love Italian food, so we could expect some delicious Italian delights like pizza, ravioli, lasagna, calamari, teramizu and spumoni gelati.

We wandered the booths at first, where Erik won me a stuffed bear in a shooting gallery and I dunked the parish priest with my dazzling basketball accuracy (sheer luck, I assure you).

The food tent took up half the church's parking lot (the half not occupied by the carnival), and since we were there at a rather odd hour, about 4:30 in the afternoon, the tent wasn't even half full, although all the food was at the ready.

We walked up and down the tables and were immediately disappointed to realize that there was no way we could even sample it all. There was just too much. So, we made some difficult choices and had a delicious meal. Erik concentrated on his favorite, deep fried calamari which he had with a huge portion of Caesar salad and a side of lasagna. I had a spaghetti/ravioli combo platter with an Italian bean salad. We washed this down with a couple glasses of pinot grigio for him and chianti for me.

Then we went to the stage and enjoyed some music and dancing for about two hours.

I wanted to do the ferris wheel and a couple other rides while we were there, so Erik bought us some tickets and we rode the ferris wheel twice. We tried a few more rides, ending with the merry-go-round.

Calling it a day, we headed for the car which...would...not...start. Erik is pretty handy with cars, but cars have become so complicated and computerized and despite his valiant efforts of nearly an hour (with my assistance), he failed to get it started.

I had my cell phone with me, so I started calling our friends, finally discovering that no one who wasn't on vacation or going out of town for the weekend was available to pick us up to bring us home.

We decided to spend some more time riding the rides and drinking wine before trying again with some of the friends we'd been unable to reach.

It was on the merry-go-round that Erik began to bring my attention to the young Italian woman who had taken over the ride. About 5 feet 5 inches tall with a lush head of wavy brown hair, she was noticing us as well.

Dressed in a blouse she had tied below her boobs, exposing her belly button, and tight-fitting short shorts, there was little doubt she had a fabulous body. After a few rides, we got off and wandered her way, chatting her up while she operated the machinery.

I got a closer look at her as we did so. She had gorgeous deeply-tanned skin, shapely legs, and an ass that would stop traffic in any country not populated by blind men. She turned out to be a very bright college girl home for the summer from a nursing program. She was a temporary hire by the carnie company which hired locals wherever they set up.

She lived in the heart of the Italian neighborhood in a small apartment over a bakery. The bakery and the apartment were owned by her first generation parents, who presently were back in Sicily visiting their family.

Upon hearing of our plight, she invited us to spend the night at her place, which actually helped quite a bit, because the car dealership was not far away from the church and we would have had to wrangle another ride back to get our car into the shop.

This also worked well for two other reasons. Neither Erik nor I had to be at work on Saturday and both of us wanted bang the shit out of this girl, and there was every indication she had some shit she wanted banged out of her as well!

At 11 p.m., the carnival closed and she walked us about fifteen blocks to her building. We walked up some steep stairs and found ourselves into an apartment that was decorated to the tastes of a middle-aged Italian couple whose minds had never really left The Old Country.

She waved us over to a plush couch and switched on the TV. We talked some more and before we knew it, Jay Leno was over and Conan was starting.

She had been sitting between us, and I made the first move, putting my hand on her leg with my fingers well down on her thigh and up close and personal with her pussy. She looked at me and smiled with that smile that acknowledges that you've done the right thing.

While her head was turned, Erik pushed her hair aside and started kissing her neck. She rolled her head onto his cheek in appreciation. Meanwhile, my hands had moved to unbutton her shorts.

As I did this, she started untying the knot in her blouse, and when I stood up to help her peel off her shorts, she finally opened up her top revealing two of the most beautiful puffy-nipped mounds I've ever seen, framed in rather extreme tan lines.

Erik and I disrobed at the same time, and before I could do anything she was devouring his cock as though doing so could give her eternal life. So, I decided to work on those nipples. I sat on the couch behind her and alternated between cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples in my fingers.

Erik dropped to the carpeted floor on his back and she dropped down onto her elbows and knees between his legs, continuing to suck. This allowed me to see how far up her asshole I could stick my tongue. The burning sensation of her anus on my tongue made my pussy become suddenly wet. I could feel pussy juice running down my leg.

She sat on him in cowgirl position, so I sat on his face and kissed her at the same time. She was a fantastic kisser and between kissing and the workout Erik was giving my clit, I gushed all over his forehead and hair, after which I rolled up in a little ball to recover.

Soon, the girl's motions became much more vigorous and she came in a series of earsplitting screams, after which she fell off to one side on the floor.

Not giving her a respite, I was on top of her with my face between her legs, fiercely licking her pussy and clit and pressing a finger deep into her still-wet asshole. Again and again she orgasmed.

Before I knew it, I could feel Erik's tongue into my anus. This was followed by the careful intrusion of his large cock.

He was pumping my ass and fingering my clit while I was licking her pussy and fingering her butt. This went on for a few minutes, and so eventually the inevitable happened, although it didn't happen in an inevitable way.

Perhaps she started cumming first, setting both Erik and me off, but as it turned out, we had a three-person simultaneous orgasm, made all the more thrilling by her unearthly shrieking. (My God! Doesn't she have neighbors?)

We all fell asleep on the floor for at least an hour, after which she got up and fixed up the couch with some sheets and a giant pillow, where Erik and I spent the night.

In the morning, she prepared a delicious omelet stuffed with crumbled Italian sausage, green peppers, onions, sun dried tomatoes, and parmesan cheese, which were served up with delicious homemade espresso and Italian bread slices with sweet butter and thick cherry jam.

She explained that she was going back to her West Coast college town on Monday and thanked us for giving her a good send-off. We replied in kind and bid her farewell.

By mid-afternoon, our car problem was fixed and we were on the way back home to do housework and buy some plants for our window boxes.

That night we had an especially good fuck.

Last weekend I took off Friday evening and drove up to Detroit where a high school friend of mine is going to school. Gina is very pretty but so, so tiny. She's barely five feet tall and cute in the way only very small girls can be. Short red hair in a pixie hairdo, and teeny-tiny boobs. I love the hell out of her. I can't remember if she was my first girl, but she was certainly one of them. Here's a photo of us together from 2 or 3 years ago:

Anyway, I called her up last week and proposed we get together. She told me to come on up and not not bring Erik, but she wouldn't tell me why.

She's up there going to Wayne State in a pre-med program leading to a degree in nursing. She's a very bright girl.

It took me a little while to find her (never been to Detroit before, just Ann Arbor), but when I got there, she was so glad to see me, we hugged and hugged. She's so small she almost felt like a child in my arms. In fact, I've seen 14 year old chicks much bigger.

We drank some white wine for a couple hours and went to bed. The next day, we went to a mall (ahh...just like the old days) and a small craft fair, where I bought some candles for myself and a new wallet for Erick. Then, we had dinner at a nearby church that was having a small festival with everything from hamburgers and hot dogs to carnival games and rides.

We got back to her apartment by 8 p.m. It was then I asked her something that had been rolling around in my mind.

"Gina," I asked, "you're attending school full time and yet you have a very nice apartment with new furniture. You have a large wide-screen hi-def TV with surround sound. You spent money today like it was going out of style. I don't mean to pry, but I went to college, too, and I couldn't live like this. On top of that, I know your family and they do okay, but they don't live anything like this. Did you win the lottery or something?"

She laughed and asked me to guess how she does it. My mind was a blank. I had no idea.

"I'm doing escorting," she said. Even though she has always been a libertine like me, and even though we had some great sexual adventures together, this was a totally unexpected surprise.

She explained that she was an independent who advertised in a weekly "alternative" paper in the Detroit area. Additionally, if you knew where to look for such things, you could find several ads for her on the Internet, with her face blurred just in case someone she knew was looking.

Apparently, she specializes in high end clientele. CEO's, high-level executives, rich entrepreneurs, even old money. But her favorite customer, she said, was Ray, who owned a small airline that specialized in running business executives around so that they could easily leave Detroit in the early morning for a meeting in New York or St. Louis, or even Seattle or Los Angeles and be home pretty much the same day, traveling in a way that allowed them to do business while flying.

She said he was a good-looking guy and a big spender. Single (she'd been to his house and had verified this), he liked no-strings sex on the one hand, but on the other hand did like a relationship with his lover that felt like having a girlfriend. She said that in fact they had become close friends and had been known to get together not for sex on occasion.

"The reason I asked you up this weekend, Jill, is because he's interested in doing some two-girl, so I thought of you. Interested?" I was almost surprised at my hesitation, because I'm known for having sex with people rather impulsively.

Then she added, "You'll go home with $1000 more than you came with, if that helps." "A thousand dollars! Hmmm... Okay, I'm in! How does this work?"

"At 10 p.m. or so, a chauffeured limo will arrive and we'll be driven to his home. He lives in a penthouse apartment about 25 or 30 stories up. Let's get ready now. By the way...this will not be a quickie. We'll be there overnight and will probably come home about noon tomorrow."

We went back to her master bedroom and took a shower together, lathering each other with her expensive soap and shampoo, and of course going down on each other in turns, just as we had done back in our last year of high school.

We dried our hair, applied deodorant and make-up, and put on nice summery clothes. She said he doesn't like girls coming into his building to visit him looking slutty. We wore short skirts, but what attractive young women don't anymore? She packed her things in a white tennis bag and I packed mine in a pink day pack I had brought along.

At around 10 p.m., a white stretch pulled out front and we went out, getting into the back. I had half expected Ray to be there, but he was not, and so we chit-chatted on the way into town, but my mind wasn't really on it as I thought about the fact that for the first time in my life I was going to be engaging in an actual act of prostitution. What fun!"

At last we arrived at his building. The limo drove down into the parking area and let us get out by some elevators. We called the elevator and after it arrived, we got in. It was a very posh affair with mirrors and wood. Gina used a card key Ray had given her to select the penthouse. She explained that it would go directly up to the penthouse and would not stop on any other floor, even if someone was waiting.

We walked into his apartment which was very tastefully appointed. Nothing was extravagant or gaudy, but you could tell that everything was well-constructed and real. The furniture was modern and in some cases actually futuristic in style. He had a love of sparseness, too, because part of what impressed me was the absolute lack of clutter. In fact, I was reminded of the drug dealer homes one sees in the Miami Vice reruns.

Gina dropped her bag next to the couch and so I did the same. She then grabbed my hand saying "Follow me!" She tugged on me until I was running with her down a hall which led outdoors to an incredible swimming pool with two diving boards (one small, one tall). She fairly ripped off her top, saying "Get naked! House rules!" and soon she was running and diving into the pool, with me not far behind.

When I bobbed up next to her, I asked "Where's Ray?" "Oh, he's around somewhere. He knows we're here. He may be on the phone or online. He may even be out, but believe me, he'll be here."

We swam a bit longer and then I got out of the pool and it really hit me where we were: I walked up to a brick wall and looked over it. People and cars down below looked like ants and beetles. All around us were office buildings and other tall residential apartments, but we were the tallest building in the area, the only taller ones being several blocks away. I could see both a large body of water which Gina identified from the pool as Lake St. Clair.

The deck was huge and had room on it for shuffleboard and about a dozen tables awnings. It was covered with tile, not just concrete. The tile was the same color as red bricks and was rough and textures to prevent slipping.

Gina got out of the pool, dried off, and we went into the kitchen still naked and made ourselves a pitcher of margarita. We salted some large margarita glasses, sat on stools at the counter, and started drinking.

Ray knows how to time things, I guess, because I was just getting a little buzz on when he appeared in the kitchen. Gina ran up to him and hugged him tightly, pressing her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes. Then she looked first at him and then me saying, "...and this is Jill, my friend from back in Ohio."

"Well, Gina certainly didn't exaggerate. You are just as beautiful as she said you'd be."

"She's in," Gina said. "Cool!" he said with widened eyes.

Before I go on, let me describe him. He's almost a dead ringer for Josh Lucas only blonder hair and a bit more muscular. He was wearing a blue and white Hawaiian-style shirt, beige clamdiggers, and flip-flops. I wanted to blow him the moment I saw him. He was gorgeous. I felt like a kid in a candy shop.

We had another martini and in the same period he had two, so here it was midnight and we were all buzzing like crazy. Or I was anyway...he seemed fairly impervious.

A moment came when he slid off his stool and took one of us in each hand.

"Shall we?" he asked, looking first at Gina and then at me. One thing I really respected about him was the way he let it be known that Gina was very much first in his mind. He absolutely wouldn't let this situation become threatening to her, which didn't bother me a bit. Under my rules with Erik, I couldn't fuck him more than once anyway, and I'd totally lose respect for him if he cast Gina off like an old shoe for the evening to pay more attention to me. And Gina being my friend, I couldn't and wouldn't stand for that.

Of course, we were still nude, so we hopped onto the very large bed in this bedroom with a floor-to-ceiling window. Everything that could be white was white. The sheets and pillow cases, were the whitest satin I've ever seen.

He unhurriedly disrobed, neatly laying his clothing on a chair with his back to us. When he turned around I could see how lucky Gina had it. He paid her fuck him! He had the body of a god, muscles but without being overly-muscled, a light sprinkling of blonde hair springing out of his tanned hide.

His penis was, well, large. Gina saw me looking and said "Oh, it gets bigger!" He climbed in between us, laying on his back. We took turns slurping on his cock and she was right: it got bigger. In fact, I started being afraid it wouldn't stop getting bigger! When it finally did, I'd guess it was about a foot long and about as big around as my mid-forearm. A "Superschwanz" as my German uncle Gerhardt would have said, God rest his soul.

Poor little Gina's jaw was getting sore from making it so wide for so long, so I offered him 69 and he accepted. Taking him as deep as I could, which still left enough cock to fill my fist.

Gina wasn't taking a vacation, though, and soon I felt her warm wet tongue exploring my vulva and asshole. Soon an orgasm snuck up on me, but I kept going and had a few more. Then I rolled off him, Gina sat on his cock facing him and worked her tummy and hips around in a gyration. I could tell this drove him nuts. Then she laid on top of him in the upside-down (girl on top) missionary position. Periodically, she'd let me stop her so I could pull his cock out and suck her delicious pussy juice off it before sticking it back in her eagerly awaiting vagina.

Then he rolled on top of her and fucked her so hard she looked like a rag doll. If I hadn't been able to see the wide-mouthed joy on her cute little face, I'd have worried that she was being torn asunder. In a couple minutes, she had a screaming orgasm and when he rolled off her, she rolled and fell off the bed, laughing when she hit the floor.

He took me in his arms from behind in the classic spoon position. I whispered "You can fuck my ass if you want." "I want," he said. Retrieving a bottle of lube from the bedstand, he was soon greasing up my behind with one finger, then two, then three, and then...it was his cock. A thrill went through me as he entered my anus nice and gently, pumping at first slowly and then with increasing speed and vigor. As everyone knows, I love to be fucked in the ass, but I'd never taken such a big cock before and at first it was a bit painful in that "It hurts so good" way.

As I usually do, I masturbated while this was going on.

After a couple minutes, he rolled onto his back taking me with him, my back against his belly, my head laying on his shoulder. Soon, Gina was between my legs. She pushed my hand aside and started doing a little tongue dance on my clit, alternating from time to time between that and caressing my labia. I was in just about going out of my mind when I orgasmed and filled Gina's mouth with my girl-cum. She spat it onto my tummy and then went in for more. The second orgasm was even more intense and much wetter. I rolled off him.

I was out of breath, covered with sweat, and I'm sure as red as a lobster as I asked Gina jokingly "Doesn't this guy ever cum?"

"Sure he does," she said adding, "He's just good at holding himself back until the grand finale. It goes like this..."

She took the bottle of lube and lubed his cock up. Then she jacked him off slowly at first, but more vigorously. I watched how expertly she handled this huge cock which obviously had become her friend.

"Do you want to finish the job?" she asked. "After all, you're the guest!"

"Sure," I said as I took over. Then I gave him the handjob of a lifetime. He closed his eyes nd I enjoyed seeing the expressions on his face as he came closer to cumming.

"Let him cum in your mouth," she said.

This was no problem. I like the taste of jizz anyway. What I wasn't prepared for was the sheer volume of the white stuff this guy could pump out. I thought if I had to take any more my cheeks might burst, but at last he was done.

"Snowball!" she said, so I started moving in her direction. But she furrowed her brows and said, "Not with me, silly, with him! It's what he likes!"

So, I crept up to his face, laying on his chest. He opened his mouth wide, and I slowly let his cum drip into his mouth. When it was all there, I closed my mouth and he swallowed, which was followed by a satisfied grin.

After some kissing and hugging and other appreciations, we all went to sleep. The next morning, when Gina and I got up there was a note explaining that he had to stand in for a pilot who had fallen ill. He said he'd had a very good time and would love to do it again sometime.

There were also two little stacks of ten $100 bills, one for each of us.

On the way back to Gina's place, I explained to her why there wouldn't be another time, due to my pact with Erik, and she got sullen for a little while, but gradually accepted that that's the way it'd have to be.

By the time we reached her place, there was only enough time for me to pack and tell her that she was invited to back home anytime and stay with Erik and me for a few nights. "I know Erik would love to meet you," I said, "and while you won't make any money Erik is a good lay!"

She gave me a hug and said, "I'm sure he is, but if I come down I'll be coming down to fuck you, sweetie. He'd just be a bonus."

With that, I took off and hit the road. I was still very sexed up from the night before. When Erik and I went to bed, I told him everything as I played with his cock.

Monday, I went to work with barely three hours of sleep.

I've been thinking of getting a new car so, most weekends, I go out and check out what's available and what deals I can get. Mostly, I'm going to Toyota, Ford, GM, Honda and other commonplace dealers, but last weekend I decided to go to a ritzy dealership and pose as a rich woman.

So, leaving Erik behind to watch some baseball game or golf match or tennis or whatever it is he watches on a Saturday afternoon, I go to this dealership which sells British and Italian cars ranging from about $125,000 on up.

I'm dressed in my most businesslike black pinstripe power suit with a short enough skirt to show half my thighs. I'm wearing a black garterbelt outfit and rather dark stockings. I didn't push it too far with the heels...only about 4" because I wanted to look like a successful businesswoman not an exotic dancer in a businesswoman fetish outfit. I wore a satin blouse so white it almost hurts your eyes to look at it on a sunny day.

No bra or panties, of course. (I really don't need a bra and why would I want to wear panties when I'm out for a fuck?)

I'm avoiding naming car models because I don't want to help anyone guess the dealership I'm at or whom I'm writing about, so I'm going to be vague in a lot of ways here. I may even fudge a fact or two, but it's just to protect the innocent.

Naturally, as soon as I entered the dealership a salesman swooped down on me. The others, who hadn't reacted quickly enough, looked at him with unmitigated hatred. I could tell he was severely conflicted between his desire to sell a car and the signals his pecker was sending him.

This salesman is a type I like: An older man about 50 in great health and physical condition. His salt and pepper hair was exquisitely groomed and he was wearing a beige summer suit with a medium blue shirt of solid color and a dark blue tie with horizontal white and red stripes. His medium-brown shoes were obviously very expensive Italian models made of woven leather strips. He was wearing a subtle masculine scent. (I hate it when men smell like they emptied the cologne bottle on themselves.)

"May I help you," he asked, using the salesman's standard opening line. "Oh, I don't know," I said, stringing him along, adding, "We'll see."

I wandered from car to car, sometimes climbing in and sitting behind the wheel, which of course is hard enough to do without showing a bit too much in even a standard sedan, but you need to understand, most of these cars were quite low-slung and barely came up to my belly button, so I'm sure he got an eyeful, as did many others.

At first, he tried to look away as I got into the cars, but once I caught him peeking and I gave him a wink. After that, he didn't avert his eyes anymore.

My next tactic was to demand to see the engine compartments of the cars, which I confess are a total mystery to me, but it gave me an opportunity to bend over, and I enjoyed hearing all activities in the dealership come to a stop as I bent over and in to examine the hardware under the hood.

Finally, I selected a mean-looking soft-top two-seater and asked if I could take it for a spin. He agreed and I slid into the driver's seat while he wandered off to retrieve the keys.

When he returned, he gave me some basic instructions about starting and operating the car, a large glass door was opened, and we drove the car out of the showroom. He suggested we go to the nearby freeway, which was agreeable to me. So, in a couple of minutes we were out on the road with the windows down and wind in our hair.

After several miles, we were out in the boonies and I took an exit out into farm country. Along the way, we talked. I gave him a fictitious biography of a deceased rich man's daughter who had used her inheritance money to start her own technology firm (modeling it on the firm Erik works for). He told a story about being a self-made man who had come over from England after marrying an American woman from whom he was now divorced more than 10 years. It turned out he was one of the two partners who own the dealership.

We drove a mile or two past several farms when he had me pull off to the side where he explained to me how to open the convertible top. He then got out of the car to demonstrate. While he was behind me buttoning up the top, I made sure to hike my skirt up a couple more inches revealing not just my stocking tops, which had unavoidably been showing already, but a bit of thigh as well. I could tell he noticed the change as he got back in.

I kept driving on the same road and he encouraged me to open up the throttle. I chickened out at 120 mph, but he assured me that 160 and perhaps even 180 were not out of the question after some tinkering. I found the speed exciting and intoxicating, so when he suggested we grab a bite at a small town cafe, I agreed, adding that perhaps we could get our order to go and find a nice shady spot to eat, to which he naturally agreed.

We were soon on the road again with a pair of overstuffed beef sandwiches and some soft drinks. When I saw a promising side road leading into a shady stand of trees, he made no complaint. In the wood, I found a place to pull the car over where, across the road, was a grassy spot with a large rock and plenty of shade and, as we discovered, hardly any flying bugs, which is unusual for this time of year.

We sat on the rock and devoured the food slowly, talking about things like recent movies and TV shows, current events of all sorts, our attitudes and aspirations. When I'd had enough to eat, I reclined onto the rock and closed my eyes. After a couple minutes, I heard him lay back as well.

We talked some more. He was a very relaxing guy to be with and, so, as always, my thoughts were turning toward finding out if he was going to fuck me.

While he excused himself to go into the woods for a piss, I unzipped and removed my skirt, and when he returned he found me arrayed on the hood of the car, legs apart in the classic invitation.

When he saw this, he came over to the car and said, "I see you've been busy." He looked me over and said, "You are so beautiful." With this he leaned over me from between my legs, unbuttoned my blouse, and pushed it aside to reveal my breasts. Leaning over further, he kissed, licked, and sucked on them.

His licking moved down gradually, exploring my belly button, my lower tummy, and finally arriving at my little pearl, which he licked and tongue-massaged expertly. This is something the older men almost invariably do much better than the young men who are obsessed with penetration. Penetration has its merits, but the vulva is where the real fun is for the woman, and he understood this.

Yes, he eventually did drop his trousers and underwear and penetrate me, and as all women know, this gives you that sense of merging and becoming one which we so love (over and above the purely physical skin-level pleasures of foreplay).

He slow-fucked me for quite a while bringing me near to orgasm and then holding back several times, which made the orgasm, very intense and wet when it did come (yes, I'm a so-called squirter).

After the first orgasm, and while he was still in me, he leaned over me and gathered me up. As he did so, I wrapped my legs around him and locked my feet together. He fucked me from this standing position for longer than I imagined possible, giving me orgasm after orgasm.

He hadn't come (another talent of older men) and so I begged off him and pushed him back onto the hood, where I played with his cock as I thanked him for a superior fuck.

Soon, I was circling his glans with my tongue and taking the glans into my mouth, caressing it with my tongue and lips. All the while, I was tasting the familiar taste of my own pussy mixed with his seminal fluid. Part of me wanted to get going and get me a mouthful of sperm, but he'd been such a pleasure to be with and had fucked me silly, so I wanted to be nice and give back as good as I got.

A nurse friend of mine had told me about giving a prostate massage along with a blow job and how her husband had become addicted to it, and I've been doing it with great success with Erik, so I quickly licked a finger and then, as I started taking his big cock deep into my mouth and back into my throat, I slid my finger way up his ass and found his prostate, which I massaged.

The loud, guttural, animalistic sounds of pleasure he made as I did this were almost frightening, and even with this, it took a while to get him off (and I'm not complaining, because I was masturbating like hell at the same time, and actually came a couple times before he finally gave up his delicious jizz).

Spent, I fell onto my back next to the car, masturbating more while his sperm was in my mouth, finally swallowing as I came one last time.

On the return trip to the dealership, we chatted more, as though nothing at all had happened.

After driving the car back into the showroom, he made a big show of asking me what I thought of the car and would I like to buy it today, and I made an equal show of praising it but saying that while I was impressed, there were more cars I'd like to look at first.

And with that I left.

Yesterday, I was back at work in my business services company. My boss asked me take some papers up to the receptionist's desk where an important customer was waiting to receive them.

I walked into the lobby to find my salesman there. I was dressed in my usual work-slut attire, and as he recognized me I put my hand over my open mouth, stifling a laugh. But he didn't stifle his as he realized that I was an office girl, not the wealthy owner of a small company.

After the surprise was over, I introduced myself by my real name and handed him the folder with the papers. As he took them, he thanked me and gave me a long indulgent look. I winked, and as I did so he turned on his heel and left wishing me a nice day. I returned to my desk, leaving the receptionist, who had observed the whole thing to wonder what the subtext of that whole exchange might be, for to her I'm sure it seemed mighty strange.

I've been masturbating about last Saturday in the restroom and at home every day. It's going to take all my will power not to go back and take more fast cars out for a spin.

But I can't and I won't, because that is the arrangement I have with the one man whose love I actually can't imagine living without.

In the company where I work, there's a summer intern in the department that handles shipping and mail. Her name is Tilly. She comes around twice a day to pick up outgoing mail from a bin on the table across the aisle from my desk. She's an obvious lesbian, not trying to hide the fact at all. A very butch hairdo really greased up into spikes, a T-shirt with some kind of punk image and/or slogan on it, dark blue jeans going down into what a guy friend of mine would call "engineer's boots" for some reason I don't understand. Does he mean train engineers? People with an Engineering degree? Weird.

Anyway, despite the masculine pose, she's got a very girly-girl body with big boobs and hips and an ass that could stop traffic in Rio. She's been flirting with me lately and I kind of have the hots for her (did you pick up on that?), so when she asked me if I'd like to have lunch with her I tried not to show too much enthusiasm as I said "Sure...why not?"

"Meet me out front at Noon, then," she said. "I'll give you a ride."

I went out front and looked around at lunchtime and didn't see her. Not right away, anyway. Some asshole guy was waving at me from atop his motorcycle, and I ignored him for a minute or so until I realized that the "guy" on the motorcycle was Tilly! Oh, fuck, I almost came in my undies. A motorcycle ride! Erik has a motorcycle and I love to ride around with him not just because I like to have something between my legs, but due to the good vibes. (You gals know what I mean!)

I was wearing a button-up cotton blouse, a red pleated plaid skirt, white thigh-highs, cotton fullback undies, and black patent leather Mary Janes with a slight heel. In other words, I was in full slutty schoolgirl mode. She was dressed pretty much as described above.

I hopped behind her and she said, "Hold on pretty fuckin' tight." She wasn't kidding, because she practically did a wheelie as she punched out of there, and she scared me shitless as she headed down the main road then a series of nameless side roads at what seemed like 70 or 80 miles per hour. We ended up in an old and seemingly abandoned graveyard. The most recent marker I could see was in the 1920's. The grass was tall and not a bouquet was in sight.

We found a pair of headstones in a shady place (it was well into the 90's already) and I ate my pulled pork sandwich and Sprite. She apparently had a small plastic tub of either chicken or turkey salad, plus a baggie with about 20 or 30 red grapes and a can of Coke.

I had brought less and was getting tired of waiting, so I said, "So, you want to fuck me or what?"

I guess she thought there was going to be some seduction involved, because she seemed a little taken aback. But not in a bad way. "Sure." "Well," I said, looking at my watch, "you've got about 25 minutes, and I have a meeting at 1:15 so..."

Well, she was on me in a flash, lifting my skirt, entering my undies, and finding my snatch expertly. She had done this before. Her fingers were in me massaging my G-spot fiercely while her tongue licked my lips and caressed my tongue.

My own fingers found the fly on her jeans, pulled it down, and slipped down into the most netherland of her crotch, massaging her clit and labia in a circular motion.

"Stop!" I said and she stopped, looking into my face.

"Take off those jeans!" I demanded, and as she did so, I slipped my undies off.

Her lower body was beautiful. God! I wish Erik could see this!

I pushed her onto her back and started kissing her, all the while finger fucking her fiercely. The noises she made were appreciative, so I kept at it a while longer. Then, I stuck my thumb in her pussy and slowly worked my fingers way up her asshole. She stopped kissing and I almost thought she might pass out from the pleasure.

I was able to maneuver myself so that I could sit on her face and she gave as good as she got.

Then she said, "Piss on me! Piss in my mouth!" I hadn't done this before, which was exciting in itself, so I said I'd try..

It took a little effort and concentration, but finally I was able to drizzle into her mouth a little bit at a time. As her mouth filled, she'd turn her head, spit it out, and come back for more.

At last, I could tell from the motions of her body and the noises she was making that she was about to come. I was out of piss by then, so I shifted my body to let her lick my asshole which she did, sticking her tongue way, way in.

When she came, she made my hand all wet and then pushed me off her.

I looked at my watch, "We'd better get back!"

She drove me back and when she dropped me off at the front door, she thanked me and apologized for not getting me off as well."

"You're not getting off so easy," I said. "Meet you in the Ladies Room at 3."

Well, I went to my meeting, trying hard to keep my mind on business, without much success.

At 3 p.m., I went to the Ladies Room. She was there. We went into a stall. I had left my panties in a drawer at my desk, so all she had to do was lift my panties. She licked me so well and so hard that I came about 6 or 7 times. Thank Heaven nobody came into the Ladies Room while were there!

In my suburban high school, I was a good student and in many ways a "teacher's pet." I know this will come as a shock to many of you who imagine I must have been some kind of rebellious, whorish girl who fucked boys under the bleachers while the more straight girls were out on the field doing cheerleading.

Well, I have bad news for you: I was one of the cheerleaders and back then my sexual activity was infrequent at best. Whether this was due to growing up in a religious environment or just my own psychological shyness at the time, I was much more interested in looking sexy back then than in actually having sex.

When not cheerleading or studying or hanging with my girlfriends, I had a part-time job as a counter girl in one of those shops...and here I'll avoid any kind of trademark problems by simply mentioning what they sell instead of their official name. They sold hot dogs on sticks and lemonade and pretty much not too much else.

Well it was closing time, and my last customer of the day was Mr. Ricardo (not his real name of course). He was possibly the youngest teacher in the school at I would guess about 25. He had a nice slender build, not very athletic, but not bad, either. He had neatly groomed blond hair in a cut without a part. What most of us noticed about him, actually, were his black horn-rimmed glasses which magnified his eyes somewhat comically. Many students referred to him as "Mr. Owl" for this reason.

He bought a lemonade from me, and as he did so I could see that he'd put his glasses into his pocket, allowing me to see his entire face for the first time, and it was then I realized what a great-looking guy he was.

When I left the mall, I saw him out in the parking lot poking around under the hood of his car. His glasses were back on. I walked up and asked him what was going on, stating the obvious: "Won't start, huh?" His head popped up and slammed into the hood. We both looked at each other and giggled.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's been giving me trouble lately and I knew that at some point it'd just die, and I guess it finally happened. I know a lot about cars and yet I can't locate the problem. At least, not without my tools which are back in the garage?"

"The bus top is right over there," I offered, knowing that people with cars frequently knew very little about public transportation. "Well," he said, "I only live about two miles away and it's such a nice night, why don't I just walk.

"Where do you live?" I asked. He told me, and I said, "Why not walk me, then? I was going to take the bus, but I'm in no hurry to get home, either and like you said, it's a great night to take in some air."

He agreed and we walked along. He asked me lots of questions about me and my aspirations, making me feel he was truly interested in me. He was a literature instructor and had complimented my papers on many occasions, so I guess he considered me as much a colleague as a student.

Along the way, we passed one of the city's several wooded parks. Since I was nearly home and our conversation was in full sway, I proposed we stop in the park to continue our talk. He looked a bit nervous about leaving a very public area, the street, for one offering some semblance of privacy, as the park was apparently quite deserted, but at last he agreed.

He sat on the end of a picnic table and I just stood.

I started asking questions about him and his own aspirations and discovered that he had been working on a novel. He outlined the plot for me and it was both fascinating and unique, though it involved an incredible amount of research still needing to be done into medieval Eastern Europe.

I don't know how I had the courage to do so, but I stole a kiss, which at first he accepted but then he turned his head, saying "This is fire you're playing with." He hadn't noticed in his shock that at the same time I had found his cock and grasped it. It was already plenty hard, so I knew the truth: he at least wished he could.

"At least let me get it out," I said. His head turned away, but he didn't push my hand away as I pulled down his zipper and found his cock. How warm it was...almost hot to my fingers, and as I handled it I could feel it jerk and swell as I touched the more sensitive glans.

Now he looked at me with a look that bespoke a deep affection for me and I took it as permission to tug on it rhythmically. Up till then, most of my sex life had consisted of hand jobs, so I had some experience in this area. I knew to use his precum as lubricant along with my own saliva, which at first I tried to apply directly by mouth, though when I did so he put his hand between my lips and his cock. When I looked up at him, his head nodded a gentle no, so I just spit on his cock and added my own oral lubrication that way.

He had been sitting back on his elbows, but as things progressed, he went flat on his back.

When at last he came, his hot jizz ran down my small fist looking for all the world like melted wax. He didn't see me but I took a little taste, savoring the slightly salty flavor. I wiped the rest of it off his cock and what I couldn't shake off my fingers I wiped off in the grass.

As he stood up and recomposed his clothing, he looked down shaking his head saying "That was not smart of me. Not smart at all." I was aware of the trouble he could be in and promised I would never tell. I have changed enough here so that there will always be doubt about which teacher had sexual contact with a 16 year old student. And I initiated it, so I certainly don't feel abused. I know that the law defines molestation in a different way, but this remains one of my fondest memories, and I'm sure many girls have had similar experiences.

Consider this an invitation to hear your story. The nice ones, not the ugly ones.

Okay, so I've had this gift certificate for a free massage for a while and I finally decided to use it up. I got it on my birthday and a couple of my girlfriends have been asking me how it went, and I've been telling them I simply haven't found time to do it yet. They really like this masseur and wanted me to experience his attentions as well.

I didn't recognize the guy's street name and after looking it up online, it turned out to be not in the city but in a suburban neighborhood, which seemed a bit strange.

It turned out to be a very middle-class neighborhood, leaving the impression that no one who lived here was we