I d been working fourteen hour days for several months on an important business deal. My wife, Christine, had been jammed trying to keep up with an insane real estate market. Time together had become nothing more than the occasional glimpse of Christine running madly around the house before she left for work. I couldn t remember the last time I d slept for more than three hours and was pretty sure the same was true for her. It seemed like we were both exhausted, never mind having time for sex.

After I sealed the deal at work and Christine closed on a huge sale, she suggested escaping to Las Vegas for a few days. At first, I wasn t that enthusiastic. All I d wanted was some of the sleep I d been craving. And Vegas certainly wasn t the first place I thought of for rest and relaxation, but she really wanted to go, so I agreed.

The flight from Burbank was short, and we were soon being shuttled from McCarran Airport to the Riviera Hotel. On the way up the Strip, a mobile billboard stopped beside our bus. It was emblazoned with the slogan, We deliver Pleasure.

Look at that, Christine said, motioning toward the sign. An escort service that sends a girl right to your hotel room.

I checked out the billboard s picture of a larger than life blonde with breasts that were bigger than the back end of my SUV. They have to call it an escort service because prostitution s illegal in Vegas, I whispered. I remembered seeing this on TV, and it stuck with me. What could be more ironic than prostitution being against the law in Sin City?

Christine smiled at me with an odd spark in her eye, but said nothing more. I had no idea what was in her head, but I was too tired from traveling to try to figure it out. Before long, we were checked into our hotel suite.

We woke up early the next day, and after breakfast, Christine suggested going to the Shark Reef at Mandalay Bay, but I wasn t up to it. That was fine with her because what she really wanted to do was shop at Fashion Show Mall. Her plan sounded good to me because I wanted take a long, leisurely nap without any interruptions. So as soon as she left, I stripped, propped some pillows behind my head and nodded off.

Many hours later, I thought I was dreaming the knock at the door, but came awake when it grew louder and more persistent. Who s there? I asked.

I couldn t understand the garbled reply and called out again with the same result. Naked, I shuffled to the door and barely opened it.

Yeah? I didn t feel the need to be polite to whoever had violated my sleep.

Are you the party who called for an escort? asked a woman. It was a husky, yet somehow familiar voice. I m here to deliver your pleasure.

Now I was convinced that I was still asleep. Uh, no, you have the wrong room, I mumbled without looking into the hallway.

This is the room number I was given. The voice was so warm, so sultry, I almost didn t recognize it, but its seeming familiarity had piqued my interest. You are Mr. Smith, aren t you?

There was no mistaking it, that voice belonged to my wife! Christine? I asked, jolted awake by the realization.

Oh yeah, I m Christine, if that s who you want me to be, she purred. And I m also the lover of your dreams. My wet dreams, if the standing ovation from my cock was any indication.

Come on in, I said, opening the door completely.

The woman waiting in the hall was a heavenly creature, so very different from the Christine I knew, but with that familiar light shining in her eyes. Her brown tresses were covered by a stylishly coiffed blonde wig, its bounty of curls tumbling over her shoulders. She wore a long, silky duster in Ferrari red, so unlike Christine s usual colors of gray and navy blue. My wife is gorgeous even without makeup, but her shadowed eyes and heavily glossed lips accentuated her natural beauty and caused a tremor in my cock. This woman who I d known for years was suddenly showing me her incredibly sexy side, the one we had somehow forgotten while preoccupied with life s responsibilities.

When I reached for the belt that barely held her coat together, Christine pushed my hands away. Now, now, she said teasingly. The customer s pleasure always comes first. She put a special emphasis on comes that made my dick jump.

Christine, what s going on?

Are you ready to play with me, Mr. Smith? She stepped closer and ran a fingertip from my chest to my navel. Will you let me escort you to pleasure?

How could I possibly turn her down? Besides, I was as curious as hell to see where she was going to take this game.

Uh, yes. Mr. Smith, that s me. Uh, I m the one who called for an escort. I cleared my throat so that my voice sounded normal and tried to play along. But I ve never done this before. How do we begin?

All you have to do is relax, and let me take care of everything. You gave explicit instructions when you placed your order, Mr. Smith. She stepped even closer, and I caught the whiff of an unfamiliar perfume which was rich and spicy. Are you ready to put yourself in my hands? There was nowhere else I d rather be.

Smiling, Christine walked me over to the bed. Why don t you lie down and make yourself comfortable. She didn t have to ask twice. I lay down on my back and laced my fingers behind my head. That s it, now close your eyes, Christine whispered, and enjoy my touch. A flurry of goose bumps blossomed all over my skin as she lightly ran her fingertips over my eyelids and down my face.

Is this something I requested? I asked, keeping my eyes shut as her feather light touch traveled down my legs and back up to my chest.

No, Mr. Smith. This is just to put you at ease, to help you relax for the pleasure that s still to come. My stiff dick was anything but at ease. Does my touch please you?

Oh yeah, I murmured, surprised that the mere feel of her fingertips teasing my chest could get me so aroused. Not being able to see gave me an entirely different feeling. Even though I trust my wife completely, not knowing what to expect was making me a little apprehensive and a whole lot excited.

It seemed as if all my other senses were working overtime as she continued to taunt me. I shivered when her clever hands continued down past my groin and my legs before tickling my toes. I felt her warm breath on the sensitive head of my cock as she said, Mmm, you look delicious, Mr. Smith. What would you like me to do next?

Suck me, I groaned. Her unfamiliar blonde curls tickled my flesh as she moved closer to my aching dick. Still keeping my eyes closed, I ran my hands through her hair, losing myself in its unfamiliar texture as I gently moved her head to my eager penis.

My job is to please you, she whispered, her hot breath hitting my cock, which made it feel as if her very words were caressing my shaft. She then used the tip of her tongue to probe the tender skin under my sac. Her mouth sent shock waves all through my body, and my dick grew thicker and harder in her expert hands.

I couldn t remember the last time Christine had given me a blowjob, and I was having a tough time controlling myself. I almost exploded in her face when she brought her lips to the head and lapped up the dollop of cream that had developed on the tip.

Do it, Christine, take all of me, I groaned, so loudly that I was almost shouting.

As you wish, Mr. Smith, she replied.

Palming my balls tenderly, almost reverently, Christine massaged them while sliding my straining erection in and out of the wet heat of her mouth. A jolt of electricity ripped through me.

I reached out to feel the curve of her showgirl worthy breasts. With my eyes still closed, I lost myself in the fantasy of this perfumed escort who had her slick lips wrapped around my cock and was sucking me with the skill of a consummate professional.

I opened my eyes to focus on her glossy red lips wrapped around my shaft. Her perfectly manicured hands were busy working my balls, and she did not object when I opened her coat so I could see her glorious breasts as she slowly sucked me off.

Christine slid out of the jacket to reveal her voluptuous cleavage, which was nearly spilling out of her black lace bra. After years of seeing her wearing sensible white nylon, this sexy bra was a sight to behold. It showcased her soft mounds of flesh, creating a tempting vision of loveliness, which was served up for my pleasure with its low cut demi cups. She curled against me on her side and drew my cock into her mouth to the root as she continued to toy with my balls.

Fortunately, her bra fastened in front, and I was able to quickly pop it open. Do you want to see my breasts, Mr. Smith? Christine asked, barely moving her head away from my pulsing dick. She pushed the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, before tossing the dainty lingerie to the floor.

Yeah, that s better, I told her.

She turned toward me so I could get a good look at her pendulous breasts. The full, soft globes were tipped with tempting brown points. I couldn t take my eyes off that pillowy flesh as Christine lowered her face to my shaft once again. She ran her tongue up and down my erection, outlined its head, then took it slowly into her mouth, teasing me nearly beyond endurance. Her throat felt as tight as a virgin s cunt. I m so close finish me off!

Her fanny bounced up and down in sync with the movements of her mouth. She snaked her hand up my chest and lightly pulled my hairs, sending tingles coursing straight to my dick.

Oh God, I m going to burst, I told her and saw an excited gleam in her eyes. I rolled one of her nipples with my fingers and felt it harden into a tiny pebble as she moaned around my shaft. The vibrations felt sublime, and I closed my eyes to prepare for orgasm.

Christine s mouth sucked harder, her tongue licked faster, and her throat took me deeper than it ever had before. Her delicate hand closed around my balls and massaged them roughly, sending me into a frenzy. I couldn t hold on any longer.

My head spun, and everything went black even though my eyes were wide open. I screamed out loud with my release. Normally, Christine doesn t swallow, but my sexy escort knew my every fantasy and greedily drank down my creamy semen, licking her lips and every inch of my cock to be sure she got it all.

Barely able to breathe, I don t know how long it was before I came back down to earth. Christine s head rested on my chest, and I kissed her forehead and then her mouth, savoring the remnants of my own taste on her lips and tongue.

Let me eat your pussy, I said, but it sounded more like an order than a request. My compliant companion simply smiled and rolled onto her back. I skimmed my hand over her breasts, keeping each nipple teased to a rigid point, then glided down her belly before cupping her plump mound. She sighed and ran her tongue over her luscious lips.

I slipped my fingers under the thin black straps of her thong and pulled the barely there lace triangle down her legs. Arousal, pure and hot, bolted into my groin when I saw her pussy was nothing but baby smooth flesh.

No hair? I said, still in shock.

Christine nodded her head. Don t you remember, Mr. Smith? When you placed your order, you specifically requested that I shave my pussy.

Of course, I said, warming up to the kind of treatment Mr. Smith received. This is exactly what I wanted.

The softness of her skin was like nothing I d ever touched, and my mouth watered as I thought of kissing the lips I d never been able to see so clearly. It s beautiful, I whispered, running my fingers along her sleek labia.

Thank you very much, Christine breathlessly answered in a shaky voice.

I brought my mouth to her mound, slowly licking and exploring all of that delicious new skin. With a low sigh, Christine opened her legs even wider for me. My tongue glided over every part of the pussy I loved so much, taking my time to caress, adore and discover its new revelations. It was as if I were licking her pussy for the very first time. She tasted so familiar and sweet, but the texture was exciting and different. I was taking a slow, self guided tour of this new terrain, but Christine wanted more now. She tried to guide my hand, coaxing my fingers between her damp lips. Still, I took my time. Mr. Smith could do whatever he wanted, right? I chuckled as I resisted her efforts.

You taste so good, I said, my voice nearly muffled by her wet sex. Despite just having had an orgasm that could implode an old casino, my dick was waking up way up, and it jabbed into her leg as I enjoyed her cunt.

You are such a talented lover, Mr. Smith, Christine murmured, with her eyes closed and her pussy gyrating insistently against my hand. I ve never been with any man who was quite as good as you are. You re an animal!

It seemed like Mr. Smith could do no wrong. Encouraged by her praise, I kept toying with her puffy lips and teasing her clit. I inhaled her musky scent, which had mixed with that of her new perfume. My cock felt like it was outgrowing its skin, and I moaned out loud as the ache inside of me grew. No matter how long I stared, I couldn t get enough of the beauty of Christine s hairless pussy. I ground my raging dick against her leg while I lapped at her clit, continuing to finger fuck her sweet hole.

Christine was moaning incoherently and writhing around on the mattress. She was making so much noise, I was sure we were being overheard. I couldn t remember ever seeing my wife behave like this. Back home she was always worried about the neighbors in the apartment below us hearing the bedsprings squeaking. But in that hotel room she was nearly bouncing off the walls! It seemed that playing the role of a call girl had brought out my wife s wild side.

She was ready to explode when I plunged two fingers deep inside. That s it come for me, I whispered. I brought my mouth back to her clit and sucked her little pearl between my lips. With it duly captured, I teased it with a flicking tongue tip until she shouted and her pussy gripped my fingers tightly. Soon Christine s ragged yelps subsided and her body stopped writhing.

I settled myself between her legs and rubbed my stiff dick along her juicy lips. Christine took my erection in her hand and stilled it. You also indicated that you wanted to give your escort a special massage, Christine said mysteriously, and with a hint of shyness that my escort had yet to exhibit. Easing me away, she went into the bathroom and soon returned with a decidedly wicked grin and a bottle of dark brown oil.

I wasn t sure what she meant by special, but was quite literally up for anything and took the bottle from her, pouring some of the scented oil into my palm.

Cinnamon? I asked, warming the syrupy oil between my hands.

You said it s your favorite, she murmured and lay down on her belly. It s hot and sweet just like you.

I straddled Christine s toned buttocks, and my cock twitched a little as I smeared the slippery oil across Christine s shoulders, over her arms and between her fingers. My hands slid up and down her back in a lazy dance. What makes this massage so special? I had to ask.

She lifted her head and looked at me. A slight blush was flushing her pretty cheeks. Why, you said you wanted a virgin, Mr. Smith, and I ve never had a cock in my ass.

I couldn t believe what I was hearing! I d pleaded with her for years to try anal sex, but she had never seemed interested it trying it. Yet there she was, naked and offering me her ass to plunder. My dick immediately became as hard as steel.

Would you like to fuck my ass? she asked, the naughty glint in her eye saying she already knew my answer and was as excited as I was to try this new variation.

You bet I would! I kissed her glistening neck and shoulder, tasting the spicy cinnamon oil.

I scooted off her ass and ran my hands over her long shapely legs. She moaned in a low, hungry tone. I picked up the oil and knelt between her legs, rubbing my hands up and down her back. When I brought them to her buttocks, I slowly opened her cheeks to bring her virgin asshole into view. It was incredibly exciting to see her tiny back hole when I knew that in mere seconds, it was going to be pierced by my rock hard cock.

I greased my pulsing hard on with the dark sweet oil, then drizzled some all over Christine s crack, letting it run between her cheeks and over her asshole. She moaned at the sensation of the oil coating her backdoor. Using my hands to spread her ass wide, I lowered my mouth to her hole and flicked my tongue over it, tasting the spicy oil lubricating it.

Oh, that feels good, Christine said in a tone that was both pleased and surprised at the same time.

I snaked one hand under Christine, gliding my fingers between her juicy lips and up to her aroused clit. I teased it with my fingertip, and she wiggled her ass up at me in invitation. I spread her cheeks with my other hand and stuck my tongue deep into her asshole. I was overwhelmed by the fact that my normally reserved wife was letting me stick my tongue up her ass and she loved it! Her sphincter squeezed my tongue, and I pushed in deeper until I felt the tight ring ease up.

When she had relaxed and was moaning softly, I replaced my tongue with a finger. I plunged it in and out, and when I felt her loosen up some more, I added another. Before long, I knew she was ready for my dick. I still had one hand toying with her cunt, and she bucked against my wiggling fingers while I brought my dick to her hole and slowly worked it in.

Christine let out a long, loud moan as I sank my erection into her asshole. Her muscles gripped me tightly, and it was a struggle to not blow my load immediately. With her juices soaking my pussy hand, I slowly began to plunge in and out of her tight ring. Stroking her slick hairless cunt and watching her blonde curls being tossed to and fro made it easy to get lost in the erotic fantasy that I was banging the ass of a high class hooker.

Ride me, ride me hard, Christine shouted as she slammed against me, taking more and more of my dick into her ass. She was thrashing about so much that I had to abandon her cunt, and I grabbed her hips to control the pace and depth of my thrusting. Christine reached underneath herself to take over where I left off. Her quickly strumming fingers soon had her coming. She shouted into the pillow as her asshole rhythmically squeezed my cock. I rammed into her one last time as her ass massaged my shaft. With a groan, I shot my hot load deep inside her and the two of us collapsed onto the bed.

That was terrific, I whispered, then kissed the top of her head. But being married to you is my greatest pleasure. Christine simply flashed me an exhausted but happy smile.

Christine and I snuggled together, and I marveled at all she d done to make our vacation so fun and special. It s odd, but pretending to be other people for a few hours had actually helped us rediscover ourselves and rejuvenated our sex life. I knew that we would never be the same, and I looked forward to more sexy adventures with my bold and exciting wife.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Sandra as I watched her laying out the outfits on the bed. I was still a little incredulous and quietly thrilled as I thought about her plans for us that evening.

“Totally sure,” my wife replied, then she pointed me toward the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, a tubful of hot water was waiting for me. I stripped off my workclothes and then lowered myself into it. The room was steamy, so I could only just make out Sandra as she walked in with the razor and a can of shaving cream. Closing my eyes, I tried to relax as she smeared the foam all over my legs and then began to de fuzz my calves.

We’d been invited to a charity fund raiser by some old college friends of Sandra’s. It was being held in a hotel across town, and the invite had said for us to come in costume. Dressing up isn’t unusual for us, but we’d never done it in public. It’s just something that Sandra and I do to spice up our marriage, because it really turns us on. She’ll wear my business suit and I’ll put on a cocktail dress. It’s fun to be a lady for the evening, but I wasn’t sure about doing it when the whole world would be watching.

“Don’t worry,” she said, once my legs were smoothly shaved. “I’m sure you’ll make a fantastic cheerleader.”

I grimaced at the thought of it, though in truth, a part of me was excited. The pantyhose and the flared red miniskirt were sure to feel nice on my body, while it would be fun to spend an evening out and not have to be my usual boring old businessman self. My one concern was that the outfit Sandra had chosen for me was perhaps a little too revealing the skirt pinched in hard at the waist, then flared out to just above mid thigh level. It was matched with a red sweater that was at least a size too small for me. It clung real tight to my padded bra, emphasizing the outline of my phony cleavage. My eyes had widened when I’d first looked in the mirror, but Sandra assured me not to worry, and that I looked great.

I wasn’t going to argue with her that night, since I was far too scared to cross the mean looking gangster that my wife had become. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, since Sandra still looked beautiful. She might have been wearing a double breasted suit and drawn a pencil line mustache above her upper lip, but there was no disguising her gorgeous breasts or the thick brunette curls that tumbled out of her trilby. Sure, she was calling the shots now, but that didn’t stop her from remaining all woman.

I wasn’t quite all woman, however, as I found out while pulling on my red silk panties. I had put on the pantyhose first, and a real frisson of sensual excitement had run through my body as I’d drawn the nylon up my freshly shaved thighs. My prick had gotten really hard, and I had to force it down and tuck it between my legs before I could smooth the panties up over my crotch. Sandra had insisted that I have a nice smooth front, in case my skirt blew up in the breeze.

Once fully dressed, I sat on the bed while Sandra fixed my makeup. She painted my lips scarlet and then covered my cheeks and my eyelids with powder. The finished effect managed to really soften my facial features so much that when she fitted the blonde wig into place, I could almost pass as a genuine woman.

I took another look in the mirror, searching for telltale traces of the man inside the cheerleader’s clothes. The chin was slightly too pronounced, perhaps, and the hands were maybe a little too big. Nonetheless, I was pleased with the overall effect and, with the outfit in place, the character began to come through.

I’m no Marlon Brando, I grant you, but put me in a short skirt and panties and they really do have an effect on me. All the cares that follow me around all week while at the office seem to instantly vanish into thin air. Suddenly, all I want is to do girlie things and have girlie fun.

“Let’s party,” said Sandra, throwing me a pair of saddle shoes. A shiver of anticipation ran through my body as I bent down to tie the laces. I was about to take my first steps out into the big bad world en femme. I could hardly wait.

The first thing I discovered is that it is wonderful being treated like a lady. I loved that Sandra drove me to the party, opened the car door for me and then took my arm to escort me inside. The gentle breeze from the hotel’s air conditioning ruffled the pleats in my skirt as I looked around at our fellow guests. There were lots of Elvises and three Marilyns. I counted four wizards and two Count Draculas, but I was thrilled to discover that I was the only cheerleader there.

My outfit certainly brought me lots of attention. I had barely been at the party for a minute before a hand crept up my pleated skirt to squeeze my buns.

“Hey, baby,” said one of the Elvises.

Now, I only have eyes for my wife, but I found the attention appealing. The goosing had forced my pantyhose to wedge between my buttocks, and it was a real turn on to feel the sheer nylon pressing so close to my most intimate areas.

“Come along,” said Sandra, dragging me deeper into the party.

A band was tuning up onstage, and as they started to play, the main lights were dimmed. Everything looked a lot more sultry after that, and with me en femme and my wife dressed as a gangster, I began to feel like something out of 1930s Berlin. Nothing appeared to be what it first seemed, as the cock throbbing in my panties would happily testify.

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Sandra said when she saw me ogling a girl on the dance floor. She was dressed in a white one piece bathing suit, just like Ursula Andress had been when she’d emerged from the sea at the beginning of Dr. No. Her curvaceous upper body and her womanly hips gave her the perfect hourglass figure. I watched, compelled, as she shook her curves to the music, bumping and grinding like an exotic dancer.

“I prefer boys,” I said to my wife, indicating my cheerleader outfit.

Sandra laughed. She knew that I was kidding.

“That’s a shame,” she said with a grin. “I remember that girl from college. Bridget was a swinger back then and, by the look of her, she still swings now. And don’t ask for details, but I know for a fact that she has quite a big thing for girls.”

I didn’t ask for details. I just stood and watched as Sandra walked over and began dancing with her. They were talking and laughing as their bodies moved in time to the music. I saw Sandra reach around Bridget and squeeze her ass.

Moments later, they were sharing a kiss, but it ended in a second and was followed by more laughter. Amazed, I gazed around to see if anyone else was watching. Then a hand gave my butt a pat, distracting me from the scene unfolding in front of me. A young guy dressed in tennis gear wanted me to dance. He kept his hand pressed firmly against my cheeks while he dismissed my claim that I was cursed with two left feet.

It seemed that my two left feet didn’t bother him as he was more than happy with the rest of me. He lifted my hand and pressed it to his lips and, right on cue, the band began playing a slow tune.

A pair of manly arms enfolded my body, and I felt my breast forms being squashed against a muscular chest. Looking across the dance floor, I saw a gangster and an Ursula Andress look alike in a tender clinch. We were all living out our roles completely. I was the cherry lipped cheerleader dancing on prom night with the school’s tennis star, while Sandra was the horny hoodlum making nice with her moll. The outfits were playing tricks on our minds. I was getting excited, and when my cock started to stiffen, I knew that I had to take a powder and fast.

“Gotta go,” I told the tennis champ, and then I dashed across to Sandra and her friend.

“Some guy’s trying to hit on me,” I said, as the girls continued to smooch.

“Me, too,” Bridget said, and they both giggled.

Giving me a glance, Sandra grabbed her friend’s hand. “Come with us,” she said, and led her out into the hotel lobby.

They walked over to the desk clerk, who handed my wife a key, and we headed straight for the elevator. Then, right in front of me, the two women started to kiss.

It was amazing to see my wife behaving so aggressively. The gangster outfit seemed to have transformed her. I was left watching as she and Bridget made out in the elevator, Sandra fondling the Bond Girl’s breasts as their tongues met in a lusty dance.

When the elevator reached our floor, the two women dashed straight off down the corridor, leaving me to follow in their wake. As soon as they were inside the room, my wife stripped off her jacket, vest, shirt and then her pants. She was wearing no lingerie underneath and so, totally naked, she climbed up on the bed and lay back with her legs apart.

“Cheerleader, cigar,” she said to me without even glancing my way. Her eyes were focused solely on Bridget, who had slipped out of her bathing suit and was kissing her way up the inside of my wife’s left thigh.

I ran to pick up Sandra’s jacket and found the cigars in the inside pocket. She beckoned me over to the bed, took a cigar and waited for me to light it. I held a match to it and then she twirled it around in her mouth while inhaling and exhaling fat plumes of smoke.

Once the cigar was smoking nicely, I sat back and watched as the two women made love. By now, Bridget had kissed her way up to Sandra’s pussy, and she flicked her tongue between my wife’s lips before planting a kiss on her clit. Then she reached up and squeezed Sandra’s nipples while taking delicate bites at her cunt. Closing her eyes, my wife just lay there with a look of contentment on her face. She took an occasional draw on her cigar as she savored the feel of her friend’s hands and lips upon her body.

It was too much for me to take. My cock was threatening to burst a hole in my pantyhose, so I lifted my skirt, reached inside and freed it from between my legs. It sat proudly upright, demanding attention, so I began rubbing my shaft through the nylon.

Sandra opened her eyes and looked over at me and saw me stroking myself. Then she closed them again, and the look on her face told me that she was reveling in the feel of the lips around her clitoris. The room was beginning to smell of her juices as well as the smell of the cigar smoke. The constant stimulation of both her nipples and pussy was pushing her ever closer to orgasm, and she stubbed out her cigar in the nightstand ashtray to more fully enjoy the experience.

That’s when things really began to escalate. I ran my hands all over my pantyhose covered legs as I watched Bridget kiss her way further up my wife’s torso. She lingered over Sandra’s stomach, flicking her tongue in and out of her navel. Eventually, she moved on toward Sandra’s cleavage. She bit on each nipple, one at a time, before pressing her face deep between Sandra’s breasts.

I grabbed my shaft and jerked hard as I recalled the many thrills that I had experienced while licking my own way between my wife’s tits. Bridget’s pretty face was now completely enveloped as Sandra began groaning with pleasure and squeezing her breasts against Bridget’s cheeks. Finally, Bridget emerged and kissed her way up Sandra’s body until she was lying flat out on top of her. Wrapping her thighs and arms around Bridget’s body, my wife spun her over so that she was then on top. Their lips met in a frenzied kiss as Sandra pressed a hand between the girl’s thighs and inserted a finger into her pussy.

Bridget squealed, breaking away from the kiss as she was penetrated. I watched as she began to writhe, her breasts squashed flat by my wife’s weight. As their nipples pressed together, Sandra propelled her lover toward climax.

“Cheer me on, cheerleader,” Sandra shouted to me as she thrust her finger quickly in and out of Bridget’s pussy.

“Make her scream,” I urged, and it made me feel like a genuine cheerleader. I imagined myself in Bridget’s place, being repeatedly penetrated by a mean looking gangster with my pleated skirt bunched up around my waist. Bridget’s screams grew louder and louder as the nonstop fucking powered her relentlessly toward climax. It looked like her pussy was growing wetter by the second, and the added lubrication allowed my wife to slip a second finger between her labia.

“Harder!” I heard myself yelling. I was excited, really getting off on the thought of how I would want my pussy treated were I truly a girl. Immediately, Sandra upped the tempo of the finger fucking. With added vigor and the added finger, it didn’t take long before Bridget was screaming with orgasmic delight. Then quickly, Sandra rolled off the girl’s voluptuous body and pressed her mouth against her sticky cunt. Her pink lips were overflowing with juices, which she licked up with an almost ravenous hunger.

I was overcome with lust just from watching, and I could no longer resist the urge to get involved. With my skirt, wig and makeup, I certainly looked the part to join in the all girl action.

“Come and get it, cheerleader,” Sandra said, and then she nodded for me to move up close behind her. Getting up on all fours, she parted her thighs a little so that I could take her from behind. Without hesitation, I lifted my skirt and slipped my prick inside her.

Sandra shouted out loud as I forced my full length into her cunt. I reached around her body and cupped her breasts in my hands, then I began pumping my hips back and forth. Her breasts began to tremble within my grasp as the force of my penetration caused her entire body to shudder. To steady my wife and get plenty of leverage, I gripped my fingers tightly around her nipples and then I really fucked her hard.

Sandra screamed after every one of my thrusts, but she was muffled somewhat when she went back to sucking on her girlfriend’s pussy. Opening her mouth wide, she forced her tongue inside Bridget’s hole, and now each time that I thrust into my wife, her body jolted forward, forcing her tongue deeper inside the girl.

I gave Sandra’s nipples a tweak as I continued penetrating her hole, my cock throbbing from the sexual tension that had been building up all evening. It had started when Sandra had shaved my legs, and was cranked up a notch when I’d put on the cheerleader outfit. The feeling cranked up even more when I’d slow danced with the tennis player, and then it went right off the scale when I’d watched my wife making out with Bridget. The night had become a voyage of sexual self discovery, and what I was experiencing now proved that the journey had been worthwhile. Each time I slammed my cock into Sandra’s dripping pussy, I could feel the pleats of my skirt slapping up against my buttocks. It served as a constant reminder to me of the cheerleader that I had become, adding an extra dimension to the already sensual action.

I slammed my full length into Sandra’s cunt one more time, and then I was ejaculating inside her. My cockhead expanded and contracted, and every pulsation of my shaft sent a spurt of semen gushing into my wife’s pussy.

Reaching back, Sandra stroked my thighs as I exploded into her body. The feel of her fingertips caressing me through my pantyhose was enough to send a second spurt shooting out of my cock. I continued slamming in and out of her as I sensed her building up to her climax. The walls of her pussy were really twisting and turning around my shaft, and by doubling the speed and power of my thrusts, I was just about able to force my way through the muscular contractions.

Juices began dripping down Sandra’s thighs as she was further stimulated by my intensified thrusting. Her body gave way to a powerful orgasm, which she quickly passed on to Bridget. Sandra did not scream out she just let her tongue release all the tension for her by forcing it in and out of Bridget’s pussy so fast that, just seconds later, she was coming, too.

Sweat was dripping down my upper thighs, making my pantyhose feel damp against my legs. I was breathing very heavily as I withdrew my cock from Sandra’s cunt, collapsed in an exhausted heap on the bed and watched as my wife continued eating her friend’s pussy. Doing that, my limitations as a girl were cruelly hammered home. Sandra and Bridget just kept on licking and sucking for the next two hours. As for me, well, you know what it’s like. This was one sexy little cheerleader who just wanted to roll right over and get some sleep.

Watching my wife, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of immense satisfaction. I had done my cheerleading job just fine. I’d urged on the players when the going got tough and now I was stepping aside to let the big boys get on with the action. As I gazed around at the discarded clothes on the floor, I realized that even though I was no longer one of the players, I still felt like a winner.

I have never met a vibrator that I didn t like. That s saying something, since I ve been introduced to quite a few at the sex shop where I work. Of course, I have my favorites. The dolphin shaped lucite number is quite a thrill, and the little otter with a fish shaped “clit tickler” on its tail is often plucked from my bedside table. My girlfriend, Carolyn, and I have had the most amazing climaxes on a bright red two header, one end sunk deep in my cunt while the other teases her innermost regions. Still, in my opinion, vibrators are a lot like orgasms. Some might be more potent than others, but there s no such thing as a bad one.

My job gives me access to the latest in sex toys. The work is fairly simple. I stand behind the counter and offer help only when I sense someone has a question. Last Friday night, that someone was a stunning blonde in pure white jeans, fringed cowboy boots and a sky blue tank top that matched the color of her eyes. She captured the attention of several patrons, who I bet were imagining what it would be like to take her clothes off.

I didn t have to imagine. I know what it s like. The luscious blonde in boots was my girlfriend, and she often comes to the store to flirt with me near the end of my shift. Watching my sweetie look at the naughty items on our shelves is an extreme turn on.

That night, she was playing a game. I could tell from the moment she walked into the store. Carolyn and I play many different games: headmistress and schoolgirl, queen and handmaiden, nurse and patient. On this evening, she was playing the ingenue. Even though she s a strong willed woman, she was acting meek, not meeting my gaze, flushing when she looked at some indiscreet product. I caught onto the rules instantly and pretended to be busy with a sheet of new prices while I kept tabs on her from the corner of my eye.

After a few moments, Carolyn stopped in front of a dildo display. She would reach out to lift a box and then lower her hand quickly and look down at it, as if the limb had behaved without her mental command. Lift and lower, lift and lower, immersed in a small war with herself. I knew exactly what my role in this game was. I was going to be the instructor. I would go up to her and explain that there s nothing wrong with buying a dildo, that the feel of a piece of smooth plastic between your nether lips is one of the most satisfying ever. I was sure I could get her wet by describing what I d like to do to her with a dildo. But several customers were lined up by the register, and I had to take care of them first. As soon as they d been rung up, I sidled up to her.

“Can I answer any questions?” I asked. Even though my voice was soft, she jumped as though taken by surprise. Carolyn is one hell of an actress.

“I m just looking,” she whispered, as if in a library instead of a sex store.

“If you want any recommendations,” I continued, “I can give you some information about the best sellers. Then you can make a more educated choice.”

Now she lowered her lashes over those beautiful blue eyes and looked down. “I m much more of a hands on type of person,” she explained, “even at my job, I ”

“I like hands on people,” I said, interrupting her. “You learn by doing, right?” She nodded and played coy.

Making a quick decision, I walked to the door and flipped the sign from “open” to “closed.” Then I turned the lock and pulled down the shade. When I walked back over to her, she had a quizzical expression on her face.

“Are you closed?”

“Not for you,” I said, pulling my favorite brand new vibrator from a box and holding it in front of her. It didn t even pretend to be lifelike. Colored a vibrant, obscene purple, it boasted ribs and bumps and other interesting teasers along its more than generous length. Carolyn suddenly seemed to forget that she was supposed to be meek, reaching greedily for the toy and sliding her hand around it. I liked the way the thing looked in her fist and could easily imagine her spreading my legs and slipping it into me, pumping hard, all the way to the hilt. I could also imagine doing the exact same thing to her.

“Since you learn by doing,” I began, watching as understanding flickered in her clear eyes, “I thought we could have ourselves a little hands on lesson.”

Because we sell outfits, mostly leather and latex, we have a large, comfortable dressing room at the back of the store. The room is mirrored on all four walls. I waited with the door open until she walked past me, then I followed her inside and shut it behind us. I wasn t sure if she was going to continue her role playing game, but I should have known. Carolyn likes to take things to the extreme. When we play nurse and patient, she actually wears a white uniform with an adorable peaked cap. So now, as I stared at her, I saw that her cheeks had flushed the light pink of cotton candy, and her body was trembling all over.

“My name s Carrie,” she said nervously, putting out her hand. I almost laughed. She is too good. But instead of breaking the mood, I took her soft hand in mine.

“I m Sam,” I said, abbreviating my full name as she d shortened hers, “and it would be my pleasure to teach you about the wonderful world of sex toys.”

From that moment, all bets were off. I couldn t wait to watch her undress, because I knew she would continue to play the embarrassed novice, her fingers hesitating over each button on the fly of her jeans. So, taking charge, as was my role, I knelt on the floor of the dressing room and undid Carolyn s jeans in a single hard tug. This brought a gasp from her, but I didn t even bother to look up. Quickly, I pushed her back against the wall and pulled off her boots, one at a time, enjoying the warm smell of leather that came with them. Her jeans, although form fitting, slid down her thighs easily, and her white cotton panties followed. She stripped her tank top over her head, shaking out her full mane of hair so that it fell back down to cover her perky breasts.

Carolyn and I have been lovers for six years now, but that doesn t mean I m any less impressed with her lovely body than I was the very first time I saw it. For a moment, I just stared, drinking her in. Then I grabbed her around the waist and brought her forward, toward my parted lips. Still on my knees, I gave her pussy a little wake up with my mouth, teasing her with several top to bottom licks to get her juices flowing.

I know how to make Carolyn melt. She likes a firm touch, with the flat of my tongue caressing the whole of her clit. I lapped at her just the way she needs it, almost animal like with my face nuzzled up into her cunt. Her smell was all around me, making me even hungrier for her. The scent of Carolyn s pussy is so different from the synthetic lubes we sell. Those are flavored with cherries or chocolate, and while they have a definite time and place in the bedroom, I prefer the real, honest flavor of my girlfriend s cunt. Her juices are light, but earthy. Sweet, with a pleasant tang. I could drink from her for hours. Yet just as the words “I m going to come” spilled from her lips, I released her.

I had the toy out of the box quickly, but now my fingers were the ones fumbling as I tried to slide the batteries into the compartment while at the same time attempting to undress myself. “Carrie” took hold of the dildo while I stripped, and I saw her nimble fingers slip the batteries easily into the proper place. Then she playfully handed the tool back to me, shy and sweet once again.

By this point, I was so hot that I could hardly talk. No time for smooth and slow, for languid and lazy. I was filled with lust and wanted to get things done.

“Bend over,” I said, and she gave me a shocked look that only barely glazed over the expression of lust right beneath it. “Hold onto the edge of the bench while I demonstrate how this toy works.” I sounded a bit like the host of an infomercial, but this was going to be one of the highly explicit x rated variety.

She did as I said, bending over and offering me her full rear view. Carolyn s ass is a thing of beauty. Unlike most California babes, she doesn t tan and never hangs out on the beach, so her body is the same pale silky color all over. Her peach like ass, split perfectly, is something I enjoy dining on several times a week. Again, a strange pull came over me, and before I could even use the toy, I had my face buried in her rear, licking and lapping up and down her asscrack until she was making muffled moans of pleasure.

“Oh, yes,” she groaned. “Fuck me with your tongue.”

Twice I had taken her up to the verge of climax, but now I managed to get control of myself, and I backed up and explained, “Just wanted to make sure you were wet, Carrie. The toys always work better with a bit of lubrication.”

She giggled, because my speech sounded so phony, and because I was licking my lips to get every last wayward drop of her nectar. I forced myself to try harder to stay in the role of the helpful adviser, and I finally brought the sex toy into play. I could see her body stiffen as I slid in the head, working it between her milky thighs and into the warm, wet opening of her cunt.

“Now, you would contract on this just like you would a lover,” I explained, not yet turning on the purple probing tool, but rocking it in and out of her hole. I put one hand on her back to steady her, and then I began to give her a little more of the length. The thing was a good eight inches, and as I slid it in and out of her I could see her wetness glistening on the brightly colored plastic. She was so turned on already that I wanted to take her even higher. And to do this, I simply flicked the button on the Hummer and it did just what its name implied. It hummed.

And so did Carolyn. “Oh, yeah,” she sighed, a rushed exhale of air. “Oh, fuck, that s good.” With my hand on her, I could feel the vibrations of the motor through her body. This thing had some engine in it. Powerful and large, it made a noise not dissimilar to the sound of a Harley revving. Keeping one hand on the base of the vibrator, I slid a finger into Carolyn s ass so that she had something in each of her holes.

I could tell that she was having a difficult time keeping herself still. I know my baby she likes to be filled. With the vibrator whirring away in her pussy and my fingers plunging back and forth in her asshole, she was almost at her finish line in seconds. I leaned my body against hers, anchoring her with my weight, using my mouth on the ridge of her shoulders to nip at her. My lover can take a stronger touch when she s about to come and I gave it to her, fucking her more forcefully with the vibrator and biting her a bit harder with my teeth.

“Yes,” she cooed, her voice low and husky, not so sweet and innocent anymore. “Oh, yes, Samantha,” she said, dropping out of her ingenue role going back to simply being my wonderful girlfriend Carolyn. “Do me like that.”

“Whatever you want, Carolyn,” I promised her. “Whatever you need.”

When Carrie came, I watched it in the mirror, seeing her facial expression change. Her eyes seemed to focus on a point in the distance that I couldn t see. And then she shuddered, her whole body trembling with the power and pleasure of her orgasm, before collapsing against the padded bench and sighing with delight.

There was a moment afterward when I just stood there and watched her. She was trying hard to compose herself, but it was obvious that her legs were still weak, her heart pounding. She tossed her long blonde hair out of her eyes and I could see her flushed cheeks, her full lips open slightly. From experience, I knew it was going to take her a few minutes to regain control, and I leaned against the wall, waiting, before I realized the vibrator was still in my hand.

And it was still on. Lubed up with the juices of Carolyn s pleasure, the thing was simply too attractive to deny. I spread my legs slightly, and as Carolyn watched, I slid the head of the pulsing toy right into my sopping slit. Then I leaned back and flicked the switch to “high,” feeling all of those powerful vibrations begin to work their magic on my pussy.

“Let me,” Carolyn said softly, regaining her energy and taking up my position on her knees. “Let me fuck you.”

I wasn t going to deny her such a sexy request, so I handed over the magic wand and let her go to work. As I know my lover, she knows me. She s well versed in what I need to come, and what I need is for her to talk dirty to me while we fuck, to describe all sorts of things for me, to give me a little play by play. It enhances each step somehow, echoes the pleasure I m receiving when she paints a verbal picture to match the physical one before me.

Since her mouth was free, she did just that, telling me how good it had felt to have me fucking her ass with my fingers while taking care of her cunt with the toy. Then she went further, describing how much it excited her that I was using a toy still warm from her body, still dripping with her own cream.

“More,” I whispered, getting closer.

“I m going to let you come once,” she told me, “and then I m going to turn you around and slide this drippy, messy vibrator up your ass.”

Oh, yeah, that did it for me. I gripped onto her shoulders as she rocked the vibrator in and out of my hole, shaking it slightly so that it touched and teased me deep inside. Then she did just as she d promised. Not even granting me time to catch my breath, she spun me around so that I was facing my reflection and parted my cheeks with two fingers, introducing the throbbing purple plaything into my asshole.

It was a different feeling entirely to have the vibrator pounding at my backdoor. The head felt larger and somehow less pliant. I bit my bottom lip gently, waiting for the sensual intrusion, but Carolyn took her time. She slipped in only a bit of the head, stretching my asshole around it. Then she pulled it out and I was left gasping, wanting it back inside. Carolyn didn t let me down.

Once again, she slid in the head, but this time she followed it with another inch, then another, filling my rear hole. The vibrations were astounding. They made my whole tunnel contract, as well as my pussy, and my entire body felt as if it were going to climax. From the tips of my toes to my eyelashes, my whole being got into the action.

Suddenly, she started talking to me again, keeping up her monologue now that she had the perfect rhythm down. “You re being fucked up the ass with a toy that s still wet from my tight, little cunt. How do you like that?”

Knowing that she would probably stop if I didn t respond to her question, I said, “I like it a lot.”

“Why?” she asked innocently.

So now she wanted me to talk, switching in a heartbeat from her role of ingenue to one of rock hard vixen.

“Because it s dirty,” I said, honestly. I like a little kink with my pleasure I always have. It s why I work in a sex shop.

“And messy,” Carolyn added. “And sticky and wet and it s going to make you cream yourself again, isn t it?”

As she said the words, she slid her free hand around to my sopping pussy, and suddenly I felt another vibrator on my clit. She had palmed one of the egg shaped numbers we sell, mini vibrators that are meant to send a buzz of pleasure when it is slipped between a woman s nether lips.

Surprise flooded through me, but before I could ask how she d managed to snag a toy without my noticing, I was coming. The joy of it knocked all other thoughts out of my head, and I simply let myself float on the cloud like billows of pleasure. Carolyn kept both toys revving, the vibrating tube in my ass, the round humming ball on my clit, until I couldn t take any more. I pulled away from her, extracting myself from the toys and then just standing there, looking down at her as whispers of release fanned through my body.

Carolyn and I slid back into our clothes, and we both emerged from the dressing room looking a bit wrinkled on the outside, but feeling much more satisfied on the inside. We then stopped at the register so that I could pay for our new purchases. Carolyn watched as I rang myself up.

“In a china shop,” I explained to her, “you break it, you buy. Here, the rule is that if you come on it, it s yours.”

“That s fine,” Carolyn grinned at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I m sure we re going to get a whole lot more use out of these two at home.”

Having common interests is something that we all want in a relationship, because being able to share an enthusiasm with the one you love is a great thing. But it is especially great when a shared interest also improves your sex life, as it did with my wife, Lindsey, and me.

We had been dating for just a few weeks when we decided one Saturday night to rent a movie and watch it at her place. We went to the video store and set about picking out a movie. I was prepared to let her choose, and inwardly groaned when I saw her briefly eyeing the million or so copies of The Pianist that were prominently displayed on the shelves. She glided by them, though, and ended up in the action film section.

She picked up a copy of the James Bond flick Goldeneye. “I haven’t seen this since it first came out,” she said. “Have you seen it?”

“Absolutely,” I said, my heart racing just a bit. Then, incredulously, I asked, “So, you’re into James Bond?”

Lindsey snorted. “You might say that.” Then her green eyes shimmered as she reached down and pulled up the cuff of her pants, showing me her ankle. Etched there was a tattoo of the familiar Bond logo, the number 007, with the seven fashioned into a gun. “That should tell you how much.”

I don’t know how I resisted falling to the floor of that video store and kissing that tattoo, but I did, and we went back to her place and watched the movie.

She already had all the other Bond movies on tape, plus she owned all of the books on which the movies had been based. In a glass case in her living room was her prize possession, a first edition of Goldfinger, complete with dust jacket.

My collection wasn’t as extensive as hers. I had some of the books and my den was lined with movie posters, but my videos were limited to the Sean Connery canon. Still, our somewhat eccentric preoccupation with the world’s most famous spy is what really brought us together. That night, after watching the movie, I did get to kiss that tattoo, and we made love for the first time. We were married a little over a year later.

James Bond had accelerated our relationship, but he didn’t do anything to add spice to our sex life until one Friday night a few months after our wedding. We were going to a party, and I was picking Lindsey up at work a few hours after the close of business. I was wearing a dark suit, and when I went inside to meet her I found her checking on something at her secretary’s desk outside of her office.

“Good evening, Miss Moneypenny,” I said on the spur of the moment, affecting my best Sean Connery brogue. If I had been wearing a Homburg I could have tried to throw it onto the hat rack, but I wasn’t wearing one, and there was no hat rack available anyway.

Lindsey looked up and smiled briefly, a wicked gleam in her eyes. Without a moment’s hesitation she said, in a British accent, “Good evening, James.”

I chuckled and continued the game. “Is he in?” I said, jerking my thumb toward her office. “He,” of course, was M, the head of Her Majesty’s Secret Service and Miss Moneypenny’s employer.

“No, he’s not,” Lindsey said, coming around from behind her secretary’s desk. She looked smashing in a slinky black dress with matching stockings and high heels. “I called you in here on false pretenses, James. I’m afraid that a satellite hasn’t been stolen by a psychotic billionaire industrialist intent on taking over the world.”

Now I was intrigued. Lindsey has a vivid imagination, and I hoped I could keep up with her. Smiling like an idiot, I replied, “What a pity. I won’t be heading for some secret hideout in the Mediterranean then?”

Lindsey fought back her laughter. “No. I tricked you into coming in tonight, James, because I’ve had quite enough of your behavior.” She moved close enough that I could smell the mint on her breath, and then she reached out and ran her hand along my thigh. “For years now you’ve been cruelly flirting with me, leaving me alone with my dinners for one and my cats while you gallivant around the world with one floozy after another. Don’t you know how I’ve wanted you?” By now her hand was tucked under my balls, and she squeezed gently. I stiffened instantly.

“Moneypenny, I had no idea,” I said.

“Shut up, James.” Then, still gripping my sac, Lindsey planted a kiss on my mouth that made me see stars.

We had a party to go to, but that was the last thing on my mind. I took a look around to make sure no one was watching and, the coast clear, picked up my wife and carried her into her office, kicking the door shut on the way in.

“How would you like me to fuck you, Miss Moneypenny?” I asked, still doing my Sean Connery voice. “Right there on M’s desk?”

“I’d like that very much,” she replied, so I plopped her down on top of it and she pushed everything onto the floor. Then she kicked off her shoes and parted her legs.

With both hands planted firmly on the desktop, Lindsey lifted her ass as I shoved her dress up her thighs to expose her panties, which were also black. Then I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and pulled them off, flinging them across the room. Her pussy was visibly wet, so although my stiff cock was throbbing, I decided I had to taste her first.

I started by kissing each knee and then began moving upward, ever closer to the magic spot. When I reached her inner thighs I bit lightly, which Lindsey loves, and apparently so did Miss Moneypenny. She pressed her legs against my ears and drew me in until I was the length of my nose away from her moist cunt. I took a deep breath, savoring the aroma, and began to eat.

Lindsey trilled as I flicked my tongue against her labia, which opened like a flower. As I continued to massage the slippery folds with my mouth, I wrapped an arm around each of her legs so that my hands were on either side of her pussy. Then I pulled gently with my thumbs on her lips, eager to get to her juicy center. Nectar trickled out as I did, and I happily lapped it up.

I wrote my name on her pussy with my tongue and swabbed her perineum a bit, too. Then I sucked her clit, which made her scream. Her hips bucked as she came, and more of her juice flooded into my mouth. I held on and somehow kept her from flying off her desk.

When she came to her senses she got to her feet and pushed me back into a leather chair. With an efficiency that would have made the real Miss Moneypenny proud, she fell to her knees and quickly unhooked my belt and unzipped me. My cock sprang right up, so hard that it felt almost numb. Lindsey took it in her hand and stroked it a few times, eyeing it rapturously.

I tried to retain my James Bond cool, but it was difficult as I took in the image of my wife kneeling on the office floor, her hair mussed and her eyes glazed over with lust. Then it became impossible as she pumped me once before taking me into her mouth. Lindsey gives a first class blowjob, but she outdid herself while in the guise of Miss Moneypenny. Inhaled is the word that comes to mind to describe what she did to my cock. I hit the back of her throat as she sucked me, her hands busy fondling my balls.

After only a minute or two, I was ready to explode. Somehow I managed to stop her and stood up. After pulling her to her feet and moving her back to her desk, I turned her around and bent her over. Then I flipped up her dress so that her beautiful ass was fully exposed. I gave her one good swat on her behind before guiding my dick into her cunt. Lindsey grunted, gripping the edge of her desk with either hand as I filled her to the hilt with my first thrust.

Being inside my wife felt so fucking good that I knew I wouldn’t last long. Still, I tried to take it slowly so that we’d both experience the greatest pleasure possible. With deliberation, I withdrew my length from her warm, firm grasp and then sank back in to my balls. She sighed as I did it again, and then again, going faster with each successive thrust. Soon I was really pounding into her, racing toward the finish line. She came at the same moment I did, her pussy gripping my shaft as the semen pumped out of me and into her depths.

I was still inside her, bent over her on her desk, when I looked at a clock and realized the whole event had taken only about five minutes. But we were a mess there was no way we could go to my office party looking the way we did. Quickly, I pulled out of Lindsey’s cunt, and the overflow of my load streaked down her thighs and onto her stockings. Her makeup was smeared and I was sweating like a marathon runner. We took a look at each other and broke into gales of laughter. We managed to clean up as best we could and made it to the party, albeit a little late. Lindsey decided to leave her panties behind in the office, “To save time.”

We still refer to that day as “Moneypenny’s Revenge,” though it has never been repeated. However, we have acted out other Bond fantasies, never really planning them but letting them develop organically. The next one occurred when we vacationed in Jamaica.

The island of Jamaica is rich in Bond lore. Ian Fleming’s estate, Goldeneye, is there, and the first Bond film, Dr. No, was filmed on its sands. Therefore, it seemed a natural place for us to vacation. Of course, the island is far different now than it was in the 1960s, with vacation complexes that offer packages complete with buffets and conga lines, but no mad geniuses intent on world domination.

Lindsey and I were soaking up the sun, slurping tropical drinks and doing some snorkeling. We were also hitting it pretty hard between the sheets. There’s nothing like the smell of saltwater to put me in the mood. It was on the third or fourth night of our trip, though, that Lindsey’s imagination kicked in again.

We were at a club near our hotel and having a nice time, dancing and making merry, when she suddenly announced that she had a headache and wanted to go back to the room. Of course I offered to go back with her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “You stay here and have fun,” she said. I thought it was all very strange, but her tone made me guess that she had something up her sleeve. I agreed and she left me there. I stayed for about an hour, having another drink and watching some very attractive women strut their stuff on the dance floor.

When I got back to the room I crept quietly, not wanting to wake her. I loved the room because it had all the accoutrements I would have expected in one that Bond would use: louvered doors, a slow turning ceiling fan, a wet bar and French doors that led out to a patio that faced the sea. I thought if Lindsey were still awake we could sit out on the patio and look up at the stars.

When I got there I noticed something funny. The lights were out, but Lindsey was not in the bed. I called her name but got no reaction. I went into the bathroom, but she wasn’t there, either. Then the skin on the back of my neck got a bit ticklish. My eyes fell on the closet doors, which were open. The jig was up.

I stood to one side of the closet, my back against the wall. I imagined Bond would have pulled his gun, but I didn’t have one, so instead I simply pulled open the door with a jolt and reached in to grab the arm of the woman who was inside. Lindsey made a small noise as I grasped her wrist and, not so hard as to hurt her, swung her around so that I had her arm behind her back. My other hand pressed against her neck.

“What’s this? Company? I don’t remember ordering you from room service,” I said, as suavely as I could.

Lindsey pretended to struggle, but she was having a hard time not laughing. “How dare you!” she said, in what seemed to be a faux Russian accent. “Get your capitalist pig hands off of me!”

I gave her a playful shove and she fell onto the bed. “Who are you working for?” I said sternly. “SPECTRE? SMERSH?”

“I tell you nothing,” she spat, and I almost laughed, because she sounded so much like Natasha from the old Bullwinkle cartoons.

“I have ways of making you talk,” I said. “Take off your clothes.”

Lindsey did a fine acting job. She stripped with an air of indignant reluctance, but I knew she wanted nothing more than to get naked. I took a seat in a wing chair and watched her disrobe.

“Are you happy now?” she asked when she was standing naked before me. The moonlight spilling through the window cast her in a very erotic blue glow. Still, I reached over and flipped on the nightstand light.

“I’m happy now,” I said as I stood up and looked around for things I could use to continue the interrogation. Eyeing our bathrobes, I grabbed the sash from each and wrapped them around her wrists. Lindsey’s eyes opened wide I don’t think she expected this. We’d never experimented with bondage before, but this seemed as good a time as any.

I tied her wrists to the bed so that she was lying on her back, arms pointing to the corners. Then I knelt between her feet and put my hands on her ankles. “Are you going to talk?”

“Never!” she said sassily, so I took one of her feet in my hands and began tickling her sole. She put up a brave front, trying to hold her breath and keep the laughter in, but the effort was futile and before long she was shrieking.

“Stop it! Stop it!” she screamed, trying to kick me with her other foot. I grabbed that ankle with one hand and held it while I began sucking on the toes of the other. She wriggled and squirmed in my grasp, but I could tell she was really enjoying it because her pussy was getting visibly wet.

I was aroused as well. “Well, on to Plan B,” I announced, and began taking off my clothes. Lindsey licked her lips when she saw that my cock was at full staff. “Now will you talk?”

Lindsey smiled devilishly. “Only if you fuck me, 007. Stick that hot cock inside me and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

I crawled between her legs and balanced above her so that our faces were only inches apart. “This isn’t some sort of trap is it?” I asked as she tried to press her lips against mine. Teasingly, I dodged her kisses and continued talking. “You don’t have a deadly tarantula up there, do you?”

“No, I’ve got something far more dangerous,” she cooed as I sank my dick into her moist depths in one thrust and then gradually pulled back out. She grunted, rolled her eyes and tilted back her head. I nibbled on her neck as I drove in and pulled out of her cunt over and over again. Her ragged breathing grew heavy as her pussy muscles gripped my thick shaft from deep inside.

“I am Anya, or Number Six,” she panted, bucking up her hips to meet my thrusts. “I was sent to . . . assassinate . . . you. You have . . . interfered . . . too often . . . in our plans.” Her ass was bouncing against the bedsheets as I filled her with my cock.

I was amused that Lindsey managed to keep up the charade while I was balls deep inside her. When she came, the grasp of her pussy tightening like a vise, she even had the wherewithal to gasp, “Oh, fuck me 007, fuck me hard.”

She shuddered through her orgasm, her eyes shut as her head thrashed on the pillow. Then she lay still on the bed in her bonds, skin sweaty, hair matted, and caught her breath. I was still hard, however, and looking at her lying there gave me another idea. “I hear that you SPECTRE girls like it up the ass,” I said smoothly. Again, Lindsey’s eyes got big.

“It is a prerequisite for membership,” she said, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Blofeld has had my ass many times.” She invoked the name of one of Bond’s most notorious enemies, and once again I was impressed by her ability to stay in character. It was apparent, however, that she wasn’t playing Pussy Galore.

“Very well then, roll over,” I ordered, and the sashes were long enough that she could flip over without me untying them. When she was flat on her stomach I began by kissing and caressing her beautiful rear end. Then I gave each cheek a smack and told her to get on her knees. When she did, I gathered some of her pussy juice from her cunt and rubbed it on her asshole before pressing my cockhead to its target. She tensed, and I told her to relax. “By the time this is over you’ll be singing ‘God Save the Queen’ and renouncing your evil ways,” I said. She laughed, but that stopped suddenly when my dick popped into her.

I fucked her tight asshole slowly and gently, only putting about half my length inside her at first. Grasping her hips, I moved in and out of her rear opening, and it felt like my cock was in the grip of a velvet gloved fist. I began pumping harder and faster, but afraid that it might be too much, I soon eased up, and my beautiful Russian spy barked at me, “Fuck me harder in my asshole! Make me feel like the dirty girl that I am!”

That kind of talk makes me tingle all over, so I pushed forward until I was in balls deep. I was tapping uncharted territory, and beneath me, Lindsey’s body jerked and bucked. She bit into the pillow that was under her head, but that didn’t stifle her ecstatic screams. “Oh, fuck me!” she kept shouting. “Fuck my ass!” Finally, the inevitable occurred and I pulled out so that my semen sprayed across her buttocks and back. There seemed to be a gallon of it, and as it puddled on her skin, Lindsey’s screams settled into soft moans.

I untied my Russian spy and we slipped into the shower together. For the rest of our vacation, whenever Lindsey wanted to have sex she spoke to me in a Russian accent, and my cock would respond immediately. To this day, I can’t watch From Russia With Love without getting excited. And we’re already starting to plan our next trip. Since Bond has been pretty much all over the world, I think we’ll have plenty of choices.

A full moon illuminated the Borgo Pass with a silver glow. It was the same moon visible all over the Earth, but somehow in Transylvania it seemed more sinister and, at the same time, strangely erotic. Every so often a black cloud glided past it. There was no sound from the forest, except for the whispering of the birches as they brushed against each other in the wind. That same wind carried the howling of farm dogs across the mountains. At least we hoped they were dogs.

My wife, Jessamyn, and I were on our honeymoon. No Niagara Falls or a tropical island for us. No, we chose to spend our first week together in matrimony tracing the fictional steps of Jonathan Harker, a character in Bram Stoker s Dracula. From Bucharest to Brasov to Bistritz, we made our way to our ultimate destination: Dracula s Castle. Although that may not sound like a romantic journey, it was entirely appropriate for us, because without Dracula, we would have never met.

I first read Dracula when I was a teenager, and I became enthralled with the novel and its characters. It affected me so much that I ended up becoming a professor of English, specializing in Gothic literature. I became such an Anglophile that I became an expatriate as well, living and teaching my specialty in London, Bram Stoker s home. I endeavored to become an authority on Dracula, and supplemented my teaching by leading Dracula tours, visiting places in London that come into play in the novel.

It was in another British city, though, that I met Jessamyn. In the novel, Count Dracula arrives on the shores of England aboard a ghost ship that docks in Whitby, a small city in Yorkshire. A large fete had been organized in Whitby to celebrate the novel s centennial, and I wanted to take part. Once there I discovered the town was thick with fanciers of Dracula and vampires in general. Although I don t usually dress the part, since this was a special occasion, I got caught up in the festivities and wore the typical Bela Lugosi garb black cape, white shirt and red cummerbund.

Attending one of the walking tours that takes place in Whitby, I was standing in St. Mary s cemetery, where the unfortunate Lucy Westenra is ravished by the evil Count. A mist rolling in from the sea, Whitby Abby, a medieval ruin, looming above us, I would have never known I was in the twentieth century. The gravestones, ornate and weathered, seemed to be watching me. It was then that out of the corner of my eye I noticed a beautiful woman in a white gown.

She looked exactly as I always thought Lucy Westenra would look. There have been many movie versions of Dracula through the years, with just as many Lucys, but I have fixed in my mind just what I thought the characters should look like. Striding across my path, seeming to float because her feet were shrouded in the mist, was my Lucy.

I was working up the nerve to approach her when she approached me. Isn t your name Michael? she asked.

Why, yes, I replied with surprise.

I m thrilled to meet you personally. I ve taken your tour in London.

As we began to chat I learned that her name was Jessamyn, and that she came from Newcastle. She was an ardent admirer of Gothic horror, particularly that of Dracula, and had even ventured to Whitby on numerous occasions to pursue her interest.

I was overjoyed by this turn of events. Although I had met a few women through the pursuit of my interest, none aroused me as much as Jessamyn. My cock twitched at the thought that standing before me was the incarnation of the ill fated Lucy. She had the healthy good looks of a milk maiden, with an ample figure that bordered on the Rubenesque. Her long blonde hair flowed down over her shoulders, and her captivating blue eyes reflected the moonlight. Before I realized what I was doing, I blurted out that I thought she looked just like Lucy Westenra.

Yes, I ve always identified with Lucy. But of course, she was the blonde. Mina the smart and strong one she s the brunette. That s the fate of us blondes.

We ended up spending the rest of the tour together. There was a party later on at the hotel, and almost everyone was in costume. The mood was cheerfully macabre, but Jessamyn and I spent almost the whole time together, chattering up a storm. By the time the chimes rang at midnight, I felt at ease asking her back to my room. She smiled bashfully and happily accepted my invitation.

I felt quite theatrical, leading her into my room. After all, I was wearing a tuxedo and an opera cape, and she was in a diaphanous gown that gloriously showed off the top half of her creamy white bosom. I was ready to give her a kiss on the cheek good night when a break in the clouds allowed moonlight to spill through the window. All of the sexuality of Dracula flooded my imagination, the thought of the Count s blood red mouth at his victim s white neck bringing to mind an image of her crimson lips sliding over my cock. I felt like the Count must have, with the ability to hypnotize young women to do his bidding. But I needed no powers of hypnotism with Jessamyn, who floated into my arms. As I embraced her tightly she whispered into my ear, This is so incredibly sexy.

I leaned down and began nibbling on her neck. She groaned rapturously and tightened her grip around me. My cock hardened, and as Jessamyn ground against me she felt it. Her hips undulated against me, and I felt her hot breath on my cheek. I continued to suck on her neck, moving up to her ear. I took the tiny lobe between my teeth and bore down just slightly. She squealed with utter delight. My tongue then slithered in and out of her ear quickly. Dizzy with lust, I stepped back for a moment.

Jessamyn s eyes were blazing with desire, her breasts falling and rising precipitously with each breath. I felt her unspoken signal to proceed, so I cupped her ample breasts in my hands and squeezed. Her eyes fluttered in response, and her hands found a home between my legs, fondling my hard cock through the fabric. I led her in an awkward dance to the bed, where we fell in a heap. Pulling her gown down to her waist, I wrapped my lips around her large salmon colored nipples and sucked them into my mouth, feeling them harden into bullets. Then I bit down slightly, and heard Jessamyn gasp. I paused, but she pressed her hand against the back of my head and said simply, Don t stop.

I continued to make oral love to her magnificent breasts. I sucked and bit on each nipple again, not hard enough to break the skin, but when I was finished there were crimson circles as evidence of my activity. I stood and began to disrobe as Jessamyn watched me with a glassy stare. When I was naked, I removed her dress completely, followed by her shoes and underthings. Then, beginning with her toes, I began to methodically kiss, suck and bite every bit of her flesh. I don t know how long it took, because time was thoroughly meaningless. I do know that my cock got so hard that it felt almost numb. While I bathed one of her thighs with kisses, she rubbed the foot of her other leg against my erection, making me shudder.

Jessamyn s pussy was oozing with the moisture of her excitement. A perfect pink slit, it was framed with a small tuft of golden hair, and occasionally glinted in the moonlight. I spread her legs and lowered my face to her sex, inhaling her sweet musk. Lapping her lips and clitoris with particular care I dined on her, as she began to chant a litany of incoherent syllables. Further and further into her folds I dove, my tongue acting as explorer. Jessamyn wrapped her legs around my torso and pulled me closer, raising her hips to meet my face. Her breath quickened under my ministrations, her hips moving faster and faster as I fed upon her pussy. Eventually she came, and I drank down her juice as if it were nectar.

She took a moment to catch her breath, and then urged me to take her. Not wanting to waste another moment, I climbed between her legs. I slid easily within her, cleaving her labia with a swift, single stroke. Our roles were reversed as her cunt swallowed me again and again, the slippery warmth of her channel feeling like a sucking mouth. I thrust harder, wanting to fill her with my come, as Jessamyn began to moan and shake beneath me. She climaxed again and her pussy clasped around my pistoning cock, forcing me to relinquish what seemed like a gallon of my semen deep inside her.

We spent the rest of that evening continuing our intoxicating lovemaking. We came to learn that we had much more in common than a sexual attraction and a mutual interest in vampire literature. I returned to London, and she to Newcastle, but we talked on the telephone almost daily. After a few months she quit her job in Newcastle and moved in with me.

Our wedding was on Halloween in St. Mary s, the very church where we had met. We even wore the same clothes we wore that night. Our wedding song was The Love Song for a Vampire, originally sung by Annie Lennox. But that wonderful day was nothing compared to what was to come next.

As a Draculaphile, I had been to Romania before and done the Dracula tour. But Jessamyn had never been and it seemed like an appropriate destination for our honeymoon. The character of Dracula in Bram Stoker s novel is completely fictional, but he was inspired by a real life person in history, Vlad Tepes, a Wallachian prince of the fifteenth century. Also known as Vlad the Impaler, he was notorious for the way he treated his enemies. Although Stoker never actually names Vlad as the Count, critics since then have made the connection, and some of the more recent films have mixed the reality of his history with Stoker s fiction. This has sparked a remarkable tourist interest in the region itself. Although Vlad never actually lived in Transylvania, all of the locations described in Stoker s novel have become points of interest, including a tourist site called Dracula s Castle, which is actually nothing of the sort. But who am I to quibble?

We took a motor coach through the Borgo Pass and since we were high in the Carpathian Mountains, it had begun to snow lightly, though it was only early November. In the book, of course, Harker is borne by a horse drawn caleche, which is surrounded by snarling wolves. We didn t see any wolves, but as I said before, we might have heard them in the distance.

Arriving safely at the medieval castle, we stepped out into the biting air. Jessamyn was very much into the spirit of things, wearing a small gold crucifix around her neck and a blossom of garlic tucked in her lapel. We had a fabulous dinner with the other members of the tour group, and had a lively game of telling ghost stories. For horror fans, it couldn t have been more fun.

When bedtime came Jessamyn and I retired to our room. This was not our wedding night, and we had coupled as man and wife already, but the night was going to be a special regardless. Again, as in Whitby, moonlight illuminated the chamber and accentuated Jessamyn s curves when she came out of the bathroom wearing a flimsy white nightgown. My cock instantly hardened, and I quietly slipped out of my clothes. She lay on the bed, awaiting me, the nightgown spread around her like a fan. Naked, I climbed onto the bed and she rose and began kissing and biting my chest with a passionate hunger. Immediately I thought of the scene in the novel in which Mina Harker drinks blood from a wound in the Count s chest.

Jessamyn left scores of lipstick prints all over my skin as she sucked and nibbled on my nipples, which hardened at her touch. As she did this she cupped my balls in her small white hands, and then began to stroke my tumescent organ. Kissing a trail from my chest down over my stomach, she stopped at my cock. Holding it against my stomach, she first licked and sucked my balls. Then she worked her way up the shaft, her tongue snaking around it like a caduceus. I was trembling, doubtful that things could get any better than this. I discovered that I was wrong, as she inhaled the head of my cock into her crimson mouth.

The moist warmth of her mouth enveloped my cock again and again as though she were trying to suck the life right out of me. Jessamyn bobbed her head up and down, impaling her face on my erection. This, combined with the way she fingered my balls, made my orgasm stampede up from the depths of my being. I told her that I was going to come, which only made her groan and take me further down her throat. My cock slid over her tongue as she sucked, bringing my arousal to the point beyond control. I erupted, and she swallowed hungrily, as though the torrents of semen that filled her mouth was the nourishment for which she d been craving. When I was finished, Jessamyn rose up to kiss me and I tasted my semen on her lips as we shared a passionate soul kiss.

Skinning her out of her nightgown, I feasted on her warm flesh. She crouched on all fours, indicating that she wanted me to take her from behind. My cock was fully revived, and I knelt behind her. First I slapped her ass a bit with my erection, and then rubbed it against her puffy pink lips. She growled and pushed her ass back against me. I didn t tease her any further and sank my cock deeply into her cunt. We quickly got a nice rhythm going, me swiveling my hips into her while she bucked backward. Leaning forward over her, I kissed her back while reaching underneath her to cup her tits. As I pinched and twisted her swollen nipples, she urged me to pump harder, moaning that she was ready to come. I did as she asked, and she climaxed as I continued to drive inside her.

She collapsed and lay flat on her stomach. I remained inside of her, still rock hard. I can feel your cock throbbing inside me, she said blissfully. This inspired me to try something we had only talked about before. I pulled my cock out of her pussy, hearing her whimper as I reached down to coat my fingers with her juices. With this liquid I greased her asshole, which stared up at me, invitingly. She realized what I was doing, and smiled in response. As I lined the head of my cock against her tight rear opening and slowly pushed, I watched, amazed, as her anus stretched to accommodate me. Jessamyn took a sharp intake of air, not letting it out until the entire crown of my penis was inside her.

We rested that way for a moment, and then she began to press back against my cock, and I knew it was okay to continue. I then began to assfuck her, enjoying the sensation of this tight orifice as it slid over my invading cock. Occasionally I smacked her white, round ass as I fucked her, or took a lock of her hair in my hand and tugged slightly, Jessamyn encouraging this rough treatment. It was not too long before most of my cock was fitting snugly within her, and I was able to increase the speed of my thrusts. Jessamyn began to scream with delight, and realizing this was a hotel, stuffed her mouth with her pillow to muffle her cries of ecstasy. I did my best to keep quiet, but I could no longer control my moans when I finally jerked forward one more time, filling her ass with my warm come.

The feel of her ass clasping my shrinking cock after I came was electrifying, almost more than I could stand as it became more sensitive. I withdrew carefully, feeling the tight glove of her anus pull off my tender shaft, and the creamy aftermath as some of my warm ejaculate spilled out after me.

I settled in for a good night’s sleep, cuddling close to Jessamyn. I found the fragrant velvet of the back of her throat next to my nose and I nuzzled her soft skin affectionately as I nodded off. In my dreams, I imagined myself becoming more obsessed with Jessamyn’s delicious neck with its subtle and irresistible smell. It is a fragrance all her own, and fills me with the erotic possibilities of sucking and biting into it endlessly.

We had a wonderful time on that trip, and have settled into our new lives in London. Jessamyn now also works as a guide on the Dracula tour in London, and I continue my studies. Our love and lust have only grown with time, and we especially enjoy the nights of the full moon.

Halloween a time for playing tricks and getting treats. My favorite holiday always guarantees plenty of sexy surprises. Who’s behind the mask? What’s going on in that darkened corner? I was determined to make the most of this devilish occasion by dressing up and letting loose. Silver hoop earrings dusted my bare shoulders. Bejeweled rings sparkled on all of my fingers. A crystal ball glowed as I rolled it gently between my palms. Catching the light from the many twisting candles positioned around the room, that polished orb seemed to throw out a glistening beam all its own. And that arrow of light was aimed at one particular person: Ray, my number one crush.

I’d had my eye on him for months, and I could tell that he was interested in me as well. A stunningly good looking architect who works on the floor below my advertising agency, he’s tall and broad chested, with dark brown eyes, sleek black hair and a killer smile. He had captivated my attention from our first introduction, and we’d flirted dangerously in the elevator too many times not to act on that attraction. But nothing had ever happened. At least, not yet.

So for Halloween I decided to play with fate. The posh restaurant in the lobby of our office building was hosting its annual costume party, and I knew Ray was going to be there. Dressed as a sultry soothsayer, I waited to see what he would do.

He appeared as James Bond, clad in a refined tux, holding a martini glass and wearing his standard sly smile. As soon as he saw me, he made his way over. “Telling fortunes tonight?” he asked in a bad Sean Connery accent that made me laugh.

“Try me “

“What do I have to do? Give you my birth date and Social Security number?”

“You simply have to let me hold your hand,” I told him.

“He set down his drink and offered his palm up instantly. Slowly, I traced my fingertips along the intersecting lines. “I see intense passion in your future,” I murmured, liking the weight of his warm hand resting on mine. I could easily picture it touching my naked body, exploring, moving lower until it landed exactly where I most craved.

“Really?” he asked, looking down. “That’s odd, because I see something else entirely.”

“What would that be?”

“Your panties,” he whispered in my ear. “I can clearly see them on the floor of my office.”

My heart pulsed in my throat, but I managed to ask, “What else do you see?”

“Your legs spread,” he said, and I sighed as I envisioned the image. “Oh, yeah,” he continued in that husky tone, “I picture those lean, race horse legs of yours spread wide apart. So I can see your pretty pussy. See it before I bring my mouth to your lips and taste the sweetness dripping from them “

“And then ” I prompted, my voice hoarse.

His mouth nuzzled my ear and the heat of his breath on my skin made my pussy throb dramatically. “I see me fucking you, your lovely face changing as you come, those eyelashes fluttering, lips parting, your cunt pulling on my cock.”

“Where?”

“This way,” he said, grabbing one of the candles from a nearby table. Still holding my hand, he led me from the restaurant to the marbled lobby. In the elevator up to his office, I said, “What else, Ray? What else do you see?”

“Just this,” he said, handing over the candle and then pulling my stretchy blue velvet top over my shoulders and down, revealing my tits captured in a strapless black lace bra. He slid my bra down to free my breasts and then bent to suckle. Holding the crystal ball in one hand and the candle in the other, I closed my eyes and arched my back, loving the warm feeling of his mouth against my nipples. As if he were the true mind reader, he guessed exactly what I like, firmly biting each one between his teeth. A fresh flood of juices washed down between my legs.

Oh, Ray,” I moaned. “More. Do it harder.” He nipped at my breasts gently, and then less gently, alternating between licking, kissing and biting. It took all of my concentration to keep the candle upright in my hand so that the wax wouldn’t spill and the candle wouldn’t go out. I liked the way our shadows moved in the light, and I wondered how far we were going to go in the elevator.

The bells chimed precisely at this moment, and the doors swung open onto an empty hallway. Ray slid my shirt and bra back into place and led me out, down the hall into his corner office. A heavy glass topped desk faced a floor to ceiling wall of windows. The view was intense San Francisco at night, lit up like a fairy tale. But I only had eyes for Ray.

He placed the crystal ball on the floor, then took the candle from my hand and set it down on a wooden bookcase. Without hesitation, he proceeded to undress me by the light of that lone flickering candle. My long, full skirt came off in an indecent flutter of ruffles. My shirt and bra were cast aside. My panties fell lazily to the floor in a lacy puddle, just as Ray had predicted. He left me standing in my silver gray garter belt and black fishnets, the jingling earrings and necklaces and multitudes of sparkling rings and bracelets. Then he stripped out of his own clothes and came forward, led by the driving force of his massive hard on.

Seeing Ray naked for the first time, I was pleased. His broad chest and well muscled arms were right out of the pages of GQ. But even more important, his cock was cast from my most wishful daydreams: perfectly proportioned, incredibly hard and ever so long. Capped with a flushed purple head, it was obviously ready to get down to business. But I had something else on my dirty mind.

“Wait ” I murmured.

“For what?” he asked, back in character. “The agents for SPECTRE could be here any moment.”

“I didn’t get a chance to finish reading your fortune.”

He gave me an interested look as I bent onto my knees before his erection, Russian spies apparently forgotten. Moving closer to it, I whispered, “I sense a warm, wet pleasure in your future,” and then I parted my slick cherry glossed lips and licked the tip of his cock. With my mouth full of his rod, I mumbled, “Unbelievable pleasure,” and then sucked hard, tasting the spicy heat of his skin. Ray stood totally still as I worked his cock, releasing and swallowing until the whole length was wet. When I brought one hand up to cradle and caress his balls, he moaned deeply. Now I was reading him, reading the way his body responded to every move I made. He liked it when I tightened my mouth around his cock, and when I lightly dragged just the tips of my ruby red fingernails against his balls he thrust forward into my mouth, uncontrollably.

Then Ray put his hands on my shoulders, indicating he wanted me to stand. Easily lifting me, he carried me to his desk and spread me out on the glass countertop, my hips right on the edge.

“That’s perfect,” he said, parting my slender thighs with his hand. “Exactly what I’ve fantasized about.” He took his time observing my nearly nude body, trailing his fingers over the delicate rise of my collarbones, down into the basin of my belly and to the very top of my pussy. That was where I wanted him, and he knew it. Gently, his fingertips parted my lips and he bent forward to taste my juices. My stocking clad legs automatically went over his shoulders as he slid his hands under my ass and lifted my dripping cunt to his hungry mouth.

I sighed at the scratchiness of his evening shadow against my sensitive skin, the pure whisper softness of his full lips, the hot wetness of his open mouth. In the candlelight, I could see his half closed eyes, his furrowed brow, the intense concentration on his handsome face. This was a job that he took seriously, a rewarding endeavor to bring me pleasure. His tongue played me knowingly, tickling with little tiny licks, then caressing with broader strokes.

Suddenly, he stood and brought his cock forward, placing it right at the seam of my body so that it rested on my clit. He rubbed back and forth in my abundant juices, not entering me, just slip sliding against my swollen bud. Each time he slid between my pussy lips I received an intense jolt of pure pleasure. His cock tricked up and down, fucking me, giving me exactly the pressure that I needed. But too soon, he stopped all motion, and I stared into his eyes, waiting to see what he was going to do next.

“A trick?” he murmured. “Or a treat?”

“Treat,” I said, sounding like I was begging, which I guess I was. A treat was all I wanted, the very specific treat of his firm cock driving deep into my wet, willing pussy. The treat of the impending climax, which I sensed would be one for the record books.

“What have you done to deserve it?” he asked next.

Unsure, I shook my head, my soft halo of curls brushing my cheeks. I had no idea what he wanted to hear, my mind clouded by the pleasure he’d given me thus far. Or maybe I’m not such a good fortune teller.

“A trick,” he decided for me, “and then a treat. That’s what will make you come.” In an instant, I found myself being spread out on the desk, my body chilled deliciously by the plate of glass beneath me. I watched as Ray reached for the candlestick waiting nearby.

What is he going to do with that? I wondered. I should have realized that he had brought along the candle with a purpose in mind. James Bond never lets anything go to waste, does he? Each item in his possession has multiple uses a pen becomes a gun, a key transforms into a microphone and my personal Bond was no different. As I lay on the desk, eyes wide in anticipation, he slowly licked in a line down my body, starting from the base of my neck. He was making his way once again toward the pulsing prize of my cunt, and I was desperate to feel his tongue there.

But first I had to pay the price.

“You ready?”

I stared at him, my blue eyes wide as he tipped the candle slightly, letting one single drop of liquid wax fall to my naked skin. As soon as the pain flushed through me, his mouth was there, licking over the hot droplet, cooling my flesh and warming it at the same time. And wouldn’t you know that my cunt responded in kind? Vibrating fiercely, alive with unbelievable shudders.

“What are you doing?” I whimpered, though the answer was clear: a trick, a treat. That’s what he was doing. The second drop of wax fell a little bit lower, closer to my pubic bone, and once again Ray cooled my skin with the wetness of his tongue. Trailing lower now, toward my pussy, he held the candle upright in his hand and I closed my eyes, unsure of what was going to happen next. But he just blew out the tiny flame, plunging his office into a hazy darkness. I opened my eyes again to a room lit only by the scarlet neon of a sign across the street and the wash of lights in the sky heralding some wicked Halloween party far away.

“Roll over, Leslie,” Ray directed, and I knew what was about to happen. Keyed back into my roll as a fortune teller, I knew exactly where that candle was going next. And I had no problem with that. I mean, what better night to play dirty games than Halloween, when costumes and boundaries are broken.

You’re beautiful, sweetheart,” Ray said, once again in the brogue of Sean Connery era 007. Then I watched

in the mirror of the window as he brought the base of the candle to his mouth, sucking just once to get it wet. His sculptured cheeks indented as he dragged in, and he tilted his head and winked when he saw how focused I was on his reflection.

My asscheeks were parted gently by two fingers, held open as his cock found its way between my thighs and deep into my sopping pussy. Then the first inch of the candle, slippery wet from his mouth, slid slowly into my ass. A trick and a treat, I understood again as he fucked me in two places at once.

“Tell me more about my future,” Ray commanded as he fucked me. “And yours.”

I couldn’t do it. I was wrecked, demolished by the two sinfully delicious ways that I was being taken. So he read the future for me.

“You’re going to come,” Ray said, as if he could see the words spelled out on the windows. As he spoke, he drove in harder, his cock slamming all the way into me, sealing our bodies together. He had enough presence of mind to keep working the candle dildo between my asscheeks. Back and forth. In a little deeper and then almost all the way out. A berry colored flush heated my cheeks at the thought of what we were doing. But I couldn’t deny how turned on it made me and how wet I was. My juices had coated my inner thighs, my pussy lips, Ray’s cock and his desk. The fragrance of sex was rich around us, and I breathed in deeply and let myself go.

My pussy tugged on Ray’s shaft, engaging him, milking him. For the first time ever, coming wasn’t like an ending. It was a beginning. The unbelievable sensations rushed through my entire body, opening me up, ready for more, which I begged for as I came.

Ray removed the candle, tossing it aside as he pulled out and lifted me up. With his arms around my waist, he brought me to the wall of windows. Pressing my palms up against a pane of glass, he said, “Now, what do you see?”

I was looking out into a black velvet sky with a multitude of white hot stars dripping across it like the shiny gems in a diamond necklace. The glittering, ever changing lights of our busy city. And our reflections staring back at me.

“You see a hungry girl, don’t you?” he asked. “Don’t you, Leslie?”

Then his steel like cock slipped between my legs and reentered my juicy hole. My pussy squeezed around him as he took me from behind. All the while, I watched our ever changing reflections in the glass, Ray moving behind me, my face reacting as I grew accustomed to the ride. It was just as he’d promised as he’d predicted down in the restaurant below, what felt like hours before.

“I’ll tell you what I see,” he hissed, his mouth against my ear. Each word was punctuated by a firm thrust of his cock into my dripping cunt. His hands were tight around my waist, and then they were moving up, stroking my full, round breasts, pinching my nipples, moving back down to part my pussy lips wide.

“I see a woman on the verge ” he said.

“On the verge ” I echoed, wanting to know more. Wanting him to read the entire future for me. Every moment.

“On the verge of coming.”

One of his hands found the side of my ass and he left a stinging blow there, and then another landed on the other side to even me out. Tricks and treats. That’s what this whole night was about.

“Coming now,” Ray said. Once again, he was right. Perfectly, truly, right.

My eyelashes fluttered, my bee stung lips parted as I sucked in deep swallows of air. I tried to keep steady, to keep my balance, to fade into the climax with grace, but Ray didn’t want cool, calm or collected. He wanted the hot throb of pleasure to flood through both of us, and to guarantee this, he brought his fingers back between the split of my nether lips to touch my clit. His fingertips tapped that pulsing button, creating pleasure like I’d never felt before. My body was on fire. My breath was a ragged melody. Every movement concentrated and expanded the rapture I was feeling.

“Ray,” I sighed as I came. Just his name. Over and over. “Oh, God, Ray.”

Then we were sliding through it together, his chest melded to my back, strong arms around me, bodies shaking. Intense tremors connected us, whisking us to faraway places where the night is lit by the light of candles.

We watched the city’s famous skyline together as we searched for stability. Then Ray turned my body around so that he could kiss my lips. Softly, sweetly, he bestowed upon me the ultimate reward: a heated kiss that echoed every ounce of the pleasure we’d just shared.

Smiling down at me, he pointed to my lustrous crystal ball, forgotten on the floor, and whispered, “So, Leslie, what else do you see in the future?”

“Bliss,” I promised, lifting my face for another dangerous kiss. “Only bliss.”