"Tell Eddie I've finished with this for now. She's one of his better whores, but she has too much of a mouth on her," Warden Stone barked at Steve and slammed the door shut.

Part IX

I lay there stunned, how had I miscalculated my effect on the Warden? The one man who could guarantee a transfer from this shit-hole; fuck!!!!

The cravings of male sexual hunger within the confines of the four walls of Chelmsford Prison did not stop just because there were visiting days with the guards bribed to look the other way (or wantonly stare) whilst prisoners wives or girlfriends masturbated and fellated their partners in the visitors room. On completion of these visits the prisoners were seldom fully satisfied when they stuffed their sticky, deflating penises back into their grubby prison fatigues; they had the same appetites as men everywhere and wanted sex daily if they could get it.

In this rough world of imprisoned men where the inmates had only the slight chance of sex during visiting hours, I knew that when I was forced to dressed as a woman, I was enticing to these sexually deprived animals. The prisoners had only the fumbling wanks and sloppy fellatio provided by their wives and girlfriends as they dipped their hands and heads below the Formica topped tables during visiting hours.

The lack of normal heterosexual relations available to the inmates was the catalyst that allowed Eddie to make a fortune running his prison brothel with his string of transvestite prostitute inmates. Men starved of female companionship took their pleasure where they could; and there were also undoubtedly some prisoners and guards who preferred sex with transvestites regardless of the availability of women.

I was the latest addition to Eddie’s stable, and although being forced to crossdress and prostitute myself was repulsive to me, I knew from recent events that I was irresistible to the inmates and guards who found their pleasure this way. So why had the Warden been so contemptible to me after treating me so nicely at first? I had obviously overplayed my hand when I tried to make my proposal for a transfer out of Chelmsford. Stupid me! I decided that I had better come up with another solution to get out of this disgusting place. Perhaps blackmail might work where my charms had failed?

"Well Michele, you really managed to piss the Governor off somehow! Come on you naughty girl, lets get you back to your cell so you can get cleaned up and rested; you still have to work tonight," Steve said, lifting me to my feet.

He leant down and picked up my skirt and shoe from where the Warden had thrown them on the floor.

"Here sweetheart, put these on," he offered the items to me smiling.

I slid the patent leather black high-heeled sandal over my stockinged foot, my painted toenails visible through the torn reinforced toes of my pantyhose. The silver anklet around my left ankle was still there, sparkling as the light reflected off it. I slid the navy blue skirt up my legs and wiggled my pantied arse into it and tried to smooth it down my thighs. I leaned against Steve to steady myself whilst I dressed and I heard him gasp as he wantonly ogled me. The split in the side seam of the skirt exposed my sheer hosed legs right up to the top of my thigh, and I exposed a glimpse of white satin panty as I adjusted my translucent white nylon slip under my skirt. I felt Steve’s hard muscled bicep as my painted fingernails dug into his arm and remembered how dangerous this could be.

"Christ you look good Michele. With that torn skirt, laddered stockings and messed-up makeup you look like a stray waif who needs rescuing."

"And fucking," I heard him whisper to himself.

"Come on, we better get a move on," Steve pushed me through the door onto the stairwell landing.

He pushed me against the wall and pressed his full weight against me. I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

"Shhh! I think I hear someone on the stairs below us!"

"We’ll have to wait here and be quiet until the coast is clear," he whispered in my ear.

Steve pressed tighter against me, my back was pushed hard against the cold concrete wall. Steve was breathing into my ear his breath quickening.

"I can’t hear anything," I whispered.

"Shhh! If you can’t shut up I’ll have to shut you up!" he whispered hoarsely and pressed his lips against mine.

I felt the groan in the back of his throat and heat from his body. He kept his lips locked on mine and then I felt him slowly start to rub himself against me, his member thickening in his jeans and pushing against my lower body. Steve’s hands came up and pressed my arms tight against my body in a vice-like grip as he continued to kiss me and move against my body.

"Keep quiet; we can’t afford to be found here outside the Governor’s office; Eddie would kill me," he whispered hoarsely between kisses.

I tried to open my mouth to protest and he slid his tongue into my mouth and passionately tongue kissed me. I was resigned to my fate. What could I do? I was still shocked from the ravaging I had received from the Warden. Steve released one hand and slid his arm between our bodies, still kissing me and flattening me against the hard wall. He fumbled around; I knew what he was doing, and then I heard the rasp as he opened his zipper.

His hard penis leapt free from its denim prison and I felt the hard hot texture of it as it came to rest against the material of my skirt. Steve groaned again and repositioned his hands. His body now pushed me harder against wall; his right hand pushed on the back of my neck pulling my face and lips hard against his; his left hand slid up my right thigh, his callused fingers whispering against the nylon of my hose.

It was deathly quiet on the stairwell. All I could hear was Steve’s heavy breathing, the occasional groan in the back of his throat, the whispery murmur of his fingers stroking my pantyhose and the rustle of my skirt rubbing against my body as he pushed his cock against me and gyrated his hips. There was no sound of voices or footfalls.

I managed to briefly break the lock of his lips on mine and pleaded,

"There’s no one coming Steve; quick let’s get back to my cell while the coast is clear!"

"Shut the fuck up bitch!" he hissed, "There is one person coming soon and that’s me!" he confirmed his intention to take me in this cold bleak stairwell.

I squeezed my arms up between us and pushed against his shoulders in an attempt to fight him off. Steve just pulled my face back to his and carried on kissing me, thrusting his tongue over my lipstick-smeared lips and deep into my mouth. His hand on my thigh seized the hem of my skirt and wrenched it up; as he did so he adjusted his stance so that his hard hot penis pressed between my nylon encased thighs.

Steve groaned again and began to rub his engorged member in the crevice created by pantyhosed thighs. I locked my thighs together in a vain attempt to stop him. Steve now repositioned his hands and bought them both down to my buttocks, taking one buttock in each of his big strong hands, squeezing them through the material of my skirt. The hem at the front of my skirt remained ridden up so that his cock was nestled in the ‘Y’ shaped silken valley created by my hosed thighs and white satin panties. Steve now began to push his steel hard member in and out of this silken trap, his cock pressing further between my legs with each thrust. He was ‘dry humping me’ the dirty bastard!

I beat my fists against his hard muscled shoulders trying to discourage him, but it was useless. Steve now lifted my buttocks upwards and as he did so my body slid up the wall and my feet lifted off the floor; Christ he was strong! My high heels left the ground and as Steve continued to lift me up against the wall he pushed his body weight against me, forcibly opening my legs. As hard as I tried to press my legs closed, the force of his body and his strong arms proved no match for by feeble efforts as my fists drummed against his chest and shoulders.

Steve suddenly heaved me up and at the same time repositioned his grip under the tops of my thighs as he pushed me back against the wall with his bodyweight. My feet were now completely off the ground and my thighs spread further, unencumbered by my torn skirt. Steve pressed his groin into me and I felt his turgid penis throbbing against the satin gusset of my panties. He adjusted his position slightly and I felt his member begin to slide under the gusset of my panties and push against the sheer nylon crotch of my pantyhose.

Steve was panting with excitement and exertion; his hot breath was in my mouth and then on my cheeks as he kissed me hotly on my lips and face. He moaned,

"Michele; please………I’ll be gentle honey……..God you’re so lovely!"

What could I do? Resistance was futile and would probably only cause me pain.

I moved my hands from his chest and wrapped them around his neck and slid my nyloned calves around his waist. Had anyone come up or down the stairwell they would have been greeted with the following sight:

A large muscular man embracing a petite businesswoman, bracing her up off the floor and against the cold brick wall, her arms locked in embrace around his bull neck whilst her legs were locked around his waist to help support her weight. Her painted toenails peeking through patent leather black high-heeled sandals, her sleek legs sheathed in laddered, diaphanous sheer black nylons, with dark reinforced cuban heels and toes, the seams of the nylons running up the backs of her legs.

She wore a navy blue suit. The skirt was ripped up one side and was snug at the waist and tight around her hips and bottom. A glimpse of translucent white nylon full slip was visible where her skirt was torn and where the front of her skirt had ridden up as she clutched herself to the muscular inmate who held her captive. A flimsy white nylon blouse peeked through her navy blue suit blazer designed to match her skirt.

An observer would then notice her pretty feminine face. She wore pinkish hued eye shadow, blended with light aqua to just under her eyebrows. Lashings of black eyeliner and mascara had been applied to her lids and lashes and had smudged around her eyes and had run down her cheeks from the tears she had recently shed. Her plum coloured lipstick was smeared around her lips from the frenzied kisses that had been forced upon her. Her hair was a black bob wig, and a pair of silver and diamond encrusted sapphire drop earrings hung from her ears, a matching pendant around her neck.

She looked defeated and submissive as the powerful thug supported her, pushing her against the wall as he thrust against her grunting and panting whilst he defiled her.

Steve was kissing me hard, his tongue assaulting my mouth. His rampant member slid back and forth, snug between the nylon of my pantyhosed crotch and the satin gusset of my panties. He picked up the pace and pushed his cock harder into the crevice between my buttocks. He settled into a steady rhythm as he dry fucked me, his pelvis thrusting back and forth as he pleasured himself. I just hung on and offered no resistance, allowing him to gratify his primal urges; I just wanted it over with. I responded to his kisses and pushed my arse against him to increase his pleasure and hasten his climax.

Suddenly Steve slammed me against the wall and thrust forward and upwards with all his strength. I felt the glans of his member push firmly against the nylon of my hose and then felt the thin gauzy material stretch and finally give. His rock hard penis nestled in the bud of my sphincter and began to shoot hot spurts of semen. The warm slick liquid lubricated my puckered bud and his member slid deep inside me, pulsing and spewing streams of his seed into my back passage. Steve’s tongue pulsated in my mouth and I responded as I felt an uncontrollable wave of please wash over me.

The head of Steve’s penis was pushing hard against my prostate, his vibrating rampant flesh shooting hot jets of come inside me causing me to orgasm spontaneously. I suddenly emptied my seed into my silky pantyhose and satin panties that encased my sex organs. Steve’s crotch pushed the filmy material against my scrotum, increasing the sensations as they shot through my body, amplified by feel of the sheer nylon hose on my legs and the silky full slip and blouse on my torso.

Steve thrust me hard against the wall as he emptied himself inside me; I groaned and forced myself against him. Steve shuddered and moaned, torrents of semen spewed from his member and dribbled out of me, pooling in my panties.

As our orgasms subsided Steve eased me slowly to the ground and as he did so his cock slid from inside me unleashing a further torrent of come into my undergarments. I tottered on my high heels and held on to him, the last of our kisses becoming softer and tender until I was standing there on shaking legs, my back against the wall for support. Steve adjusted himself and zipped up. He leaned forward and pressed a light butterfly kiss on my cheek.

"Come on honey lets get you back to your cell before Eddie comes looking for us," he whispered, and nuzzled my neck briefly.

As Steve led me dazed and confused up the stairwell and back to my cell I began to realise what had just happened. Again I felt repulsed by my uncontrollable sexual responses. I loathed myself for capitulating and even worse for taking pleasure in the sick, twisted sex life into which I had been enslaved.

Steve dropped me off at my cell and made me strip. He took away my female attire and led me to the showers. He stood guard while I washed off my makeup and showered in the empty cellblock ablutions, the other cellblock inmates were at work but he was taking no chances that anyone might decide to have some fun with one Eddie’s ‘girls’ out of business hours. I have to say I felt better knowing that Steve was there to watch my back whilst I was in there alone. Steve didn’t say much to me at all after I had taken off my female clothing and washed off my makeup; it was as though he had no time for Mike, he just lusted after ‘Michele’.

I spent the last part of the day alone in my cell contemplating how I was going to get out of the mess I was in. I watched the clock, dreading the passing of time as the minutes advanced into hours. ‘Iron Bar’ Steve finally knocked on my cell door and entered,

"Time for work; let’s go," he said.

Steve led me back to E Block, the deserted wing that Eddie had set up as his brothel. He handed me over to Mabel who told me to strip. She inspected me all over as I just stood there meekly letting her prod, poke and stroke me.

"You need a good shaving girl," she clucked, and led me down to E block’s shower rooms.

She had me sit on a stool and shaved the light stubble from my face and then proceeded to remove any remaining hair from my arms, legs and chest. She then rubbed moisturiser all over my body and dressed me in a light blue satin kimono.

"Come on love, you can get ready for work in your workroom," she muttered leading me out into the corridor to my workroom cell.

‘Ready for Work! Workroom! Who the fuck was she kidding,’ I thought to myself. ‘What she really meant was go and make yourself into a woman so the sick bastards in this hellhole can violate you!’

As I passed down the corridor two of the cells had low red lamplight emitting from the flimsy curtains which had been pulled across the bars at the front of the cells. I heard muffled grunts and groans, and as I passed the first cell I heard the slapping sound of flesh against flesh. I could just make out the silhouette of what appeared to be a woman bending over a chair as a large man stood behind her pounding himself against her buttocks.

I could just make out that her panties were pooled around her ankles above ridiculously tall high-heels. As the large man plunged forward into her she shuddered and tottered on her heels, she held on to the back of the chair and the legs of the chair made a scraping noise each time she was pushed forward slightly with each thrust. The man appeared to be fully clothed and grunted like a pig with each lunge of his body; he held on to her tight at the waist. The woman, actually a crossdressed whore, gasped as each thrust rammed his groin against her buttocks with a loud slap.

I couldn’t see anything in the second cell; I could just hear the slurping sounds associated with a well-trained fellatrix at work and the murmurs of a man being satisfied.

"Just Carmel and Charlotte servicing a couple of guards before we open for business," Mabel said as we passed by on the way to my workroom cell.

"Eddie gives the guards a freebie and they keep watch for him and keep out the rabble. Business is business in Chelmsford prison honey; we all have to pay our way," she sniggered.

She led me to the cell door and I noticed that heavy curtains had been rigged on a rod above the cell bars that opened on to the corridor. They were pulled back at the moment but they did not bode well for me this evening I guessed. Mabel pushed me through the door and walked over to the armoire. She rummaged around and pulled out what appeared to be a schoolgirl’s uniform.

"You’ve got a ‘special’ first up love; get dressed, Eddie’s bringing a friend in half an hour."

"He wants to play ‘Naughty Schoolgirl.’"

Mabel rummaged around in the drawers and selected lingerie that she threw onto the oversize cot. She looked at the assortment of wigs and selected a blonde, shoulder length wig.

"Shame we haven’t got time to make up some pigtail braids on that wig, but he’s not really that fussed on authenticity if you know what I mean; it’s more of a costume dress-up thing with him," she shrugged.

"Well come on love, get a fucking move on!" she ordered and pottered out of the cell to go about her duties.

"Fucking old tranny fag-hag!" I hissed to the empty cell after she had left.

I knew the routine well enough by now and resigned myself to getting dressed; failing to comply with Eddie’s orders would only result in a beating.

I sorted through the lingerie on my cot and laid it out so I could dress with a minimum of fuss. First I slipped a red satin garter belt around my waist and clipped it together at my belly button. I twisted it around so it faced the right way, smoothed out the satin panel at the front and straightened out the three red garter straps connected to each side of the belt.

Next I slipped into the nearly nude sheer nylon stockings Mabel had selected. I pulled each one up my freshly shaven legs and attached my suspender belt to the reinforced lace panels at the top of each stocking with the three garter straps. As I smoothed out the wrinkles in the delicate nylon along my legs little sparks of sensuality ran through me. I shrugged the sensation off and continued to dress.

Next I stepped into a pair of boy-leg lace paneled knickers. They were gray nylon with a white lace insert at the front and around each leg opening. The lace trim matched the lacing on my stocking tops. I shrugged into red satin full-cup bra which matched the garter belt. I walked over to the makeup table and opened the drawer that contained my breastforms and pushed them inside the bra cups. No time for adhesive if Eddie was due in twenty minutes. I adjusted the bra and breastforms so that they appeared as natural as possible.

Eddie obviously did not care too much for authenticity; Mabel has selected a pair of patent leather black high-heeled court shoes. They slid easily onto my stockinged feet and as I stood I was relieved to find out that it was a lot easier to balance on these wedge heels than the tapered spiked heels that I had been forced to wear up to now.

I sat at the makeup table and adjusted the lamp so that I had good light to apply my makeup. It still amazed me how quickly I had become adept at the feminine art of applying makeup!

First I applied the foundation and powder. My eyes I decided, would be in dark shades so I applied dark gray eye shadow and black eye liner. I underscored the eyeliner on my lower lids with a thin dark blue line for contrast. I applied lashings of mascara so that my lashes were almost caked with a thick black coating. I lightly applied a dark shade to my eyebrows with the eyebrow pencil and completed the look with a light pink shade of blush on my cheeks and only a slightly darker shade of pink lipstick. I decided to experiment this time and applied a coat of lip-gloss. I pulled on and adjusted my wig; just the look I wanted; I looked like a naughty schoolgirl with the lighter shades of makeup I had applied but with my dark eyes contrasting wonderfully.

Next I put on the long-sleeved cotton blouse, being careful to keep the pristine white garment free of makeup. I buttoned up the blouse, still finding trouble with the way women’s clothing buttoned on the opposite side. I pulled the school uniform tunic over my head and adjusted it. It was a dark blue and green tartan. The dark colour emphasised my pale face and dark eyes. The bodice was tight against my torso; the skirts were pleated and came to just above my knees. Then I had an idea; the finishing touch!

I rummaged around in the drawers until I found what I was looking for. I sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off my court shoes. I pulled on a pair of white cotton anklets over my stockinged feet and then stepped back into the black patent leather court shoes. I looked fantastic! I left my ears unadorned but slipped a simple gold chain necklace around my neck.

I sat back down on the bed and started applying two coats of pale pink nailpolish to my nails. While I was doing this I had time to think and realised what I had done. ‘My God! What the fuck was I doing!’

Not only was I capitulating with the crazy bastards who forced me to become a crossdressed prostitute; I was dressing like a woman as if it was a natural thing to do! I was working at looking good and even being innovative to achieve the ‘look’. Fucking white anklets; what the fuck was I thinking of!!!! Had these sick fucks brainwashed me?

I was about to get up and do; I don’t know what; remove my makeup and clothes? rebel? scream? then I heard the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s voice as he approached.

"Oh fuck yeah Dave, you will love my latest acquisition! She’s got an arse to die for; and with only a little bit of training she already knows how to suck cock like she was born to it."

"I don’t trust the cunt though; she’s too fucking smart by half," he added.

"Smart mouth on her; and you can tell she’s planning something. You have to remember this twat ain’t like Charlotte and the other dumb cunts in my stable; he was a businessman, pretty smart and well to do on the outside until he got done for running some kid over while drunk."

"She still thinks there’s a way out of her job here, and I’m sure she’s got ideas about getting outside or transferring to somewhere else, so be careful if you take a fancy to her; she might try it on, like I said, she’s just too fucking smart!"

Eddie was obviously discussing me with the punter he was escorting to my cell. So Eddie knew I had plans to try and get out of the fucked up predicament I was in. So what! If I got my chance you can bet I’d be gone in a flash!

Then it dawned on me what Eddie had said, ‘so be careful if you take a fancy to her’.

‘Maybe that meant my first customer of the night might be a man of influence and power,’ I thought.

‘Maybe I could use him to my advantage? Better be careful though; I had fucked up royally when I tried it on with the Warden; best find out all I can about this guy before I try to use my newfound charms on him,’ I considered.

"Well hello Michele; don’t you look lovely this evening," Eddie said with an evil smirk on face as he stepped into my workroom cell.

A tall good looking man dressed in prison fatigues walked in behind Eddie and came to a complete stop in the cell doorway and looked me up and down where I sat on the edge of the bed.

"Christ Eddie she’s a stunner all right; you weren’t exaggerating on bit. Hi sweetie," he said pleasantly, walking all the way into the cell.

"Say hi to my best friend David, Michele; don’t be rude!" Eddie smiled my way.

"Hi David," I said in my best attempt at a coquettish voice.

"Davy here is a very special friend of mine Michele, and I promised him that you would treat him very nice this evening; so you do that for me and maybe I’ll be nice to you later ok?" Eddie said in a voice that left no doubt that if I wasn’t nice to Eddie’s friend I would be very sorry.

"Of course I will Eddie," I answered meekly.

"So Davy, will she do; is the get-up ok?" Eddie asked.

David had been looking me up and down ever since he arrived in the cell; he hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

"Yes Eddie she’s perfect, and I bet she can be a very naughty school girl too," David chuckled.

"Yes; and speaking of being naughty; Davy why don’t you go and see Mabel and bring yourself back a bottle of something to drink while I have a little chat with Michele. Just give us five ok?"

There was no doubt that although Eddie was treating David with more respect than I had ever seen him treat anyone else, Eddie was still the one giving the orders.

"Sure; is scotch ok Michele?" David asked my way.

"Fine," I answered.

David ducked out the cell and I heard his footsteps disappear down the corridor. As soon as David left the cell Eddie strode over to me and held out his hands.

"Stand up sweetheart and give us a good look at you," Eddie said.

I allowed Eddie to assist me to my feet. He looked me up and down and smiled.

"Wonderful," he said. Then with lightning-quick speed he punched me in the stomach.

"You fucking cunt! What the fuck do you think you were playing at with the Warden? Me and you are going to have a little chat later and I’m going to remind you how things work around here!" Eddie barked.

I collapsed on to the bed, the wind completely taken out of me. I doubled over in pain as I tried to breathe. I felt like I was dying, I couldn’t get any air in my lungs.

"Don’t you start crying and ruin your face you fucking cunt bitch," Eddie snarled.

"You fucking soak up that pain and get yourself ready. David is my best friend in this shit-hole and I promised him you would treat him special, so you just get your pretty arse off that bed, breathe deep, and be ready when he gets back here."

I forced myself to stand and eventually I could breathe in shallow breaths but the pain in my stomach was excruciating. Even so I realised that I was lucky that Eddie had bought his best friend to see me otherwise he may not have cared about marking my face with his fists. I stood there looking down getting my breath back.

Eddie lifted my face to his,

"You try any of your fucking smart moves with Davy, Michele and I’ll put you in hospital you bitch. I’ll accept the loss of earnings while you recover; besides some cons in here like being sucked off by bitches with no teeth; slides in nice and easy so they say, so you fucking well behave," Eddie threatened.

He released my face just as David walked back through the door with a bottle of scotch in his hand.

"I’ll leave you two kids alone to get acquainted ok?" Eddie sniggered.

He pulled the heavy curtains across the bars to my cell, slipped through them and slammed the door shut.

"Don’t disturb them for a couple of hours Mabel," I heard Eddie yell at her as he walked off.

I was alone in the dimly lit cell with David; we had complete privacy. David looked me up and down again.

"Drink Michele?" he asked, a smile breaking out on his handsome face.

"Please," I smiled back suppressing a grimace of pain from where Eddie had punched me.

David half-filled two glasses with hefty shots of the dark amber liquid and handed me one.

"Michele you are one pretty lady if I may be so bold. And that schoolgirl outfit is just as kinky as hell," he said grinning at me with the confidence the way only men secure in their good looks seem to be able to do.

He suddenly came over serious.

"Don’t get me wrong; I’m no noncer or anything. I like to take my fun with adults not juveniles; it’s just that I love trannies when they get dressed up in sexy costumes like that."

"Oh fuck I’ve done it again; I’m sorry I didn’t mean anything derogatory calling you a tranny."

"Shit, I’m behaving like it’s my first date; let me start over."

We both looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing. It was honest laughter bought about by David’s embarrassment and stumbling apology. He was very handsome indeed; tall and slim with black wavy hair, deep blue eyes with laugh lines at the corners, white teeth and full sensuous lips. He was deeply tanned and obviously made the most of his allocated time in the exercise yard.

"Alright. Michele, I’m David but please call me Davy."

He took a big gulp of scotch and continued.

"I’m what you might call a business associate of Eddie’s; let’s just say I do him favours and he does me favours."

"I’m fourty something, single, bisexual and disease free," he laughed again.

"And oh; to be honest I do have penchant for transvestite hookers dressed up as school girls," he finished, laughing again in his easy way.

He had managed to put me at ease and I could see how he could easily win over any woman that took his fancy; or man for that matter, he did say he was bisexual after all!

"Hi Davy, I’m Michele and a woman never tells her age," I smiled back at him, taking a sip of the single malt.

"As for the rest……..", I started but Davy interrupted.

"I know the rest honey," David said, "and don’t worry I’m not here to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Please sit."

I sat down and as I did I winced in pain as it flared up where Eddie had punched me.

"The prick! He hit you didn’t he; while I was gone getting the scotch, the bastard hit you," Davy said and sat down beside me and took my hand.

"If it had anything to do with me I’m sorry Michele; I don’t know how anyone could be cruel to you."

I was taken aback, but wary. So many times since I had been forced to crossdress men had started out being nice to me and had then turned vicious.

"No it was my own fault," I answered, "I did something stupid and paid the price."

"Well I don’t believe that a lovely creature such as you could do anything wrong; and anyway the most you would ever get from me is a light spanking on your tidy bottom," he started laughing again and I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

We both looked down into our drinks and took a sip as the laughter died down into an awkward silence.

Davy put down his scotch and turned towards me, he reached and gently turned my face to his.

"Look Michele, I do know your situation; Eddie told me the whole story. I know you are being forced to this against your will; and as I much as I would love to make love to you I an not going to force you to do anything that you don’t want to do."

"Don’t get the wrong Idea, I often come to Eddie’s stable and go with the girls here; I do love making love to transvestites; but most of the girls here are willing to do what they do, even if they were initially forced or blackmailed into it by Eddie."

"But I have never forced myself on another person and don’t intend to start now," he finished.

I was quite taken aback, Davy seemed to be the most genuine and gentle man I had met since I got into this mess; and he was just stunningly handsome. I figured that if I was going to have to pleasure punters all night, I might as well pleasure someone who is kind, handsome and obviously has some sort of influence in this place.

I had badly miscalculated with the Warden; I decided I would put my efforts into making Davy happy and play him along until the time is right to use his influence somehow to help me get out of this jam. Tonight I was his.

I reached out with my long feminine fingers with their pink painted nails and stroked his face.

"Davy you are the nicest man I have met in this place; how can I not like you?" I smiled and gently pulled his face to mine.

I kissed him on the lips and slid my tongue inside his mouth and ran it along the top of his gums; women had done this to me before and it drove me wild. Davy responded and took me in his arms. I allowed him to pull me against him as he held me tightly but tenderly. He didn’t try anything else for over five minutes; he was just contented to kiss. We kissed deeply and passionately, and besides the smoky taste of the scotch, his breath was as sweet as a baby’s. I was becoming genuinely aroused; it was not just lust invoked by an instinctive response to stimulation, but a slow sensual awakening of my pleasure centers.

Davy eased me down onto the bed, never breaking the kiss. We ended up lying side by side our lips locked. After what seemed like an eternity of passionate kissing I was ready for more; my senses were actually screaming for further stimulation. My cock was straining against the lace panel of my boy-leg knickers, the lace stimulating my member. I pulled myself closer to Davy and lifted my leg up and over his body, the pleated tunic rode up my thigh and exposed the matching lace stocking tops of my nude nylon stockings.

Davy got the hint and started to stroke my legs and thighs, his hand sliding slowly and gently along the nylon. I kissed him deeply and growled in the back of my throat as the sensation caused by Davy’s hands stroking my nyloned leg aroused me further. I started rubbing my crotch against his hard body in attempt to further stimulate my penis. Davy sensed what I was doing and gently eased me away from him slightly; I couldn’t contain my disappointment.

But Davy didn’t miss a beat, as soon as our bodies were separated far enough, he slid the hand that was stroking my leg under my skirt and went straight to my penis. He gripped it lightly through the lace panel of my knickers and began to slowly stroke it.

I groaned and Davy responded by sending his tongue into a frenzy in my mouth; it rolled around my tongue and tickled my cheeks and gums; he was an excellent kisser. At the same time he increased the speed of his hand stroking my turgid knicker-wrapped member. I knew that I couldn’t hold on to my orgasm much longer and tried to pull away; I realised that Davy had seduced me to the point where I would let him do anything. I had allowed the tables to be turned; I was supposed to seduce him into my power, not me into his!

I was too far gone, I made a feeble attempt to extricate myself and gave up immediately as Davy tried to hold me where I was, lying beside him. We were joined at the mouth, out torsos pressed tightly together as we continued our passionate kiss. I was twisted at the waist so that my legs lay open on the bed. My legs were now spread wide, my skirt up around my thighs, the sheer nude hose on my legs running down to the cute cotton socks and the patent leather black high-heeled court shoes.

Under my skirt Davy’s hand was now stroking me hard and fast through my knickers; I began to buck and writhe as my orgasm approached. My orgasm rocketed through me; I felt it through my own body. My senses were heightened to the pitch where I could feel, taste and smell everything intensified one hundred fold.

I could taste my lipstick mixed with Davy’s sweet breath and the musky scotch we had drank. I could feel his tongue jack-hammering in my mouth, my long sleek nylon encased legs were sending those little electric shocks of pleasure I had become to love so much. I could feel the satin bra and suspender set, smooth against my bare skin, and the gray nylon knickers rubbing against my buttocks and scrotum as Davy gripped my cock in the front panel of the knickers and strocked me furiously.

I could smell the sweet perfume I was wearing and Davy’s masculine after-shave, mixing with the musky hint of sweat as we both became further excited. Then I could smell the slightly starchy smell of my semen as I spent into my knickers.

My climax shot through me, and I shuddered and groaned. Davy continued to stroke me, milking my seed into my knickers, the semen lubricating the lace and increasing the intensity of my orgasm. As the last of my emission dribbled into my knickers Davy released his grip on my erection and slid his hand under my silky buttocks and turned my lower body towards him, his hand on my ass pulling me close against him. I lifted my leg again, rubbing my stocking leg against his muscular thigh, milking the last sensations that I could out of my subsiding orgasm.

Davy held me like that, our bodies side by side, for about five minutes; never braking our kiss, my lips were almost numb. Then he stopped kissing me and looked into my heavily made-up dark eyes and said,

"You like?"

"You bet," I responded smiling into his handsome face.

Now that we had stopped kissing I pulled myself free of our embrace briefly and Davy frowned; but not for long as I readjusted our position on the bed. I pushed Davy onto his back and I straddled his waist, my pleated schoolgirl skirt spread over his middle. I leaned down and kissed him briefly on the lips and then pulled back so I was sitting upright. I looked down into his beautiful deep blue eyes and said,

"Now, what can this naughty schoolgirl do for you?"

 

To be continued………………….

And what about you? she asked.
Im fine i replied, and told here i just quit my job.

She looks at me hot as hell and says, that\'s not what i mean, i was asking you if you get horny all the time, after asking me, she kept looking at me with those georgious eyes.

Her hand was soft and warm and slightly moist, but she smiled up at me and gave me a good, firm shake back.

“Nice to meet you.”

I nodded my head towards the office, tucked away at the back of the video store, and said, “Why don’t we go have a seat?”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Lindsay!” I gave the girl at the counter, my assistant manager, a yell. “Buzz me if you need me. We’ll be about a half-hour.”

“Sure, boss.”

“After you…”I unlocked the office door and held it open, letting Stephanie go in before me. I gave her a quick appraisal, looking her up and down as she walked by me.

I thought she was kind of cute: short and plump, but in a nice, buxom way. She was dressed casually for the interview, wearing a pale blue fitted blouse that was slightly unbuttoned over a white, silky camisole, light khaki pants that were tight around her hips and a pair of old leather sandals. Her hair was dark brown, thick and glossy and cut short so that the tips curled around and under her ears. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face with prominent, rosy cheeks and a pointed chin, and she wore a little too much makeup for my taste. She had a tendency to peek up with her doe-like eyes when she smiled, making her look a bit like a chubby, mischievous pixie, but the silver crucifix dangling in the deep cleft between her breasts distracted me from that little blemish.

“Welcome to my closet.” I cleared my throat, pried my eyes away from her chest and pointed to a chair. “Have a seat.”

She sat down and crossed her legs, immediately comfortable. Maybe she wasn’t as nervous as I’d assumed. Either that, or my considerable boyish charm and good looks had really worked to loosen her up.

“Thanks,” she said.

Her pant legs slid up when she sat, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her thick, tan, muscular calves. I settled down into my comfy leather chair just opposite her and pretended to search my desk for a pen. I gave her another smile.

“You’re welcome.”

She made a quiet humming sound in her throat and absent-mindedly tugged her blouse down, smoothing it tight over her breasts. She glanced around the room, taking in the big cork bulletin board tacked full of comic strips, work schedules, inventory lists and what-not; piles of old sale invoices, movie magazines and late-lists spilling out of boxes on the floor around my cluttered desk. “You know, a closet might be bigger.”

I actually laughed, and casually flipped through her job application. “Yeah, you might be right.”

My office was tiny, with barely enough room for a desk set up along the back wall, a beat-up metal filing cabinet, and the two chairs we were sitting in. Another door opened into a small storage area with walls of shelves full of movie posters and display boxes. Beyond that was a dimly-lit back room where we kept the safe.

The store itself was shaped like a sideways L, with a large, open floor plan that the owners believed encouraged customer browsing. It was brightly lit with red neon signs, flashing lights and lots of televisions set up like tic-tac-toe boards – always turned on and blaring taped ads for the latest movies and games. In the back of the building there was another storage room, an employee break area and a small warehouse with a dingy bathroom for the staff (and the occasional customer emergency) that was always kept locked.

The adult movies – the porno’s – had a room all their own, with a closed-circuit video surveillance system to monitor the freaks. Lord knows how many idiots we’ve caught on tape jacking off in there.

“So, you want to work for a video store?” I asked.

“M-hm,” she nodded. “Trisha really likes it here. She said you needed someone to take her spot when she leaves.”

Trisha was one of my better employees. She’d worked for me for a little over a year and was leaving for college soon. She’d recommended Stephanie to me. I knew they were friends from high school and swam together on the school swim team.

“I do. I remember when you dropped off your application,” I lied.

The only reason I knew I took her application is that Trisha asked me to. Without Trisha putting in a good word, Stephanie probably would’ve completely faded from my mind.

She beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah. You bet.”

Stephanie’s application indicated that she was a certified lifeguard and had worked the last couple years as a counselor and lifeguard at a Catholic summer camp. She also worked the counter at the camp store, selling the kids cold drinks, popcorn and candy, t-shirts and sweatshirts, that kind of thing. Not all that much different than what she’d be doing for me.

“So tell me about camp.”

She took a deep breath. “Well…”

I watched her while she talked, nodding, scribbling notes on her app, asking a quick question here and there. Normally – sexist as it sounds, I’d try to hire someone a little sexier than Stephanie, because the beautiful people tend to bring in the money. But basically, right now I just needed a warm body and wasn’t feeling too picky. If she could at least make change and carry on a half-way decent conversation, I was probably going to offer her a job.

For the fifty-six minutes we were in the office together, Stephanie showed me everything that a potential employer wants to see from a prospective employee.

I started working here in high-school, took over as assistant manager pretty quickly, and got promoted to running the store full-time after I started film school. It’s a relatively simple job and I make decent money doing basically nothing. I’m about ready to graduate now, and over the last few years I’ve had a lot of employees come through here. I’ve learned that most interviews are awful, some – a few – are better.

Most of my applicants are high school kids looking for an easy summer job or college kids needing some quick part time work. Rarely, someone I interview is really motivated to get a job. Frankly, Stephanie impressed me, and I warmed up to her pretty quickly. She was animated and lively, sharp and funny. She had a habit of blinking once or twice after each question, thinking before she answered.

I liked that.

She liked all kinds of movies and was already familiar with the store, which was great, telling me that Trisha made her help her close up the shop every weekend so she could get out and party earlier.

“Ah.” I said, and made a note of that to put in Trisha’s file. For safety, one of the cardinal rules was that only employees may be in the store before or after store hours. I don’t think Stephanie caught the slip.

Best of all, she was flexible. She still lived at home with her family and was starting school in the fall, part-time at a local community college, so her schedule was open, at least for now. As we wrapped the interview up, I made sure it was okay to call her references and her supervisor from camp, and asked her what size uniform shirt I should order, and what color would she prefer?

“Um, red, for sure. Small?”

“Great. I’ve only got a few other people to talk to this afternoon. Hopefully I can call everyone back by tomorrow.”

“Okay. Thanks for the interview!”

She shook my hand again, and I grinned as she walked back through the store, absently wondering what she’d look like in a bathing suit. I heard her say goodbye to Lindsay, who was busy returning video games, and then the door chimed and she was gone. Lindsay grinned from across the room and gave me a big thumbs up.

“She’s a keeper, huh?” She shouted.

I shrugged.

“We’ll see.”

“You snooze, you lose, boss-man. Hire her yesterday.”

I laughed and started back to the office. “Opinion noted. Okay?”

One of our regulars, an fifty-ish lady named Nancy, was herding her grandkids through the game section with a look of utter frustration plastered on her face. She was trying to get them to make a decision between renting some shoot-‘em-up and a racing game, and she was failing miserably.

Nancy was probably one of the first customers I’d made an effort to connect with when I became manager, although I’m not quite sure why.

Truthfully, I think I was a little smitten with her. She was married to an ex-cop who’d started flipping property after he retired, and now he was always gone, being (in her words) the real estate tycoon. Nancy used to be a nurse. She retired a few years ago to help her daughter take care of her grandkids (the little devils that were now screaming at each other and yanking all our game boxes off the rack. Lindsay looked at me and rolled her eyes. She hated those kids…).

Nancy kind of moped around with this sad-sack complex, that for some strange reason I found extremely sexy. So I made it a point to flirt with her whenever I could. It seemed to make her happy, at least for a minute or two, and once I got her talking, she was actually pretty interesting.

Besides, she had a pair of whopping big tits. I couldn’t resist.

I ignored the screaming demons making a mess out of my store and put on my best smile for her. “Hi, Nance.”

She looked up and brightened immediately. Sometimes I wonder if she comes in now just to see me. She waved back, and then her grandkids started a nice, loud shoving match. Nancy rolled her eyes at me and I took the opportunity to slip back into my office.

Maybe I made her day a little brighter. Sometimes we all just need someone to say hi, let us know we mean something, even if it’s just a grin from some kid at the video store.

Anyway…

I shut the door and plopped back into my chair with a sigh. It was a little quieter in here with the door closed. I hoped Lindsay had a bottle of aspirin at the counter, and then waited for the other applicants to show up. Lindsay escorted the next one back a minute or two after I heard the demons leave.

By the time I kicked the last one out the door – a pale, zit-faced teenager who ignored most of my questions and couldn’t stop talking about his collection of obscure Japanese animation videos that he was busy burning to disc – one copy to watch, one to save, in case of fire or flood or some other cosmically ordained cataclysm – I was grumpy, tired and ready to grab some dinner and call it a night.

Lindsay gave me irritated looks from the counter as I walked them out. She stuck out her tongue and shook her head after each one left.

“Stephanie,” she said. “This is so you don’t forget.” She’d written the name on a sticky note paper, and stuck it to my forehead. “Hire. Her. Now.”

One of our phone lines started ringing.

“Cut it out and answer the phone,” I grumbled.

It was supposed to sound threatening, but Lindsay just grinned and blew me a kiss. I stalked back into my office and peeled the note off my face, and then I just sat there for a bit, staring at my pile of applications and playing with the sticky paper with my fingertips.

Stephanie’s app was right there, at the top of the pile.

I cleaned up the junk on my desk and then called the main office, which had already closed for the day. I left a voice message for the office manager and ordered two small red polo shirts and a nametag for Stephanie.

Then it was time to go.

***

As I left work, I checked my voicemail on my cell phone on the way to my car, a red ’73 VW Superbeetle. A friend of mine named Desiree had left me a message, asking me to stop by when I got off work.

I’d met Desiree under somewhat, uh, kinky circumstances during my senior year of high-school, at a Halloween party thrown by one of my teachers, a transgender named Linda, who I had a brief affair with. Linda moved away to France later that summer, but for some strange reason Desiree and I became, um, well, friendly.

You can read into that whatever you’d like.

Anyway, I rolled back the sunroof and then drove over to her house. Desiree lived in one of the nicer areas of town, in an old Victorian-style house that she was busy fixing up herself. I think the house must’ve set her back more than I’d make in ten years at the video store. It had been confiscated in a drug bust, and when she bought it the whole thing looked ready to fall apart.

It looked pretty good now, I thought. Nicest house on the block.

I parked at the curb and locked the car, then trudged up a steep flight of steps to the front door and rang the bell. I heard a deep bong emanate from somewhere inside, and Desiree opened the door before I could put my arm down, shrieking my name in her husky voice.

“Devin!”

She pinched my cheeks and crushed me to her chest, smothering me with her breasts.

“Baby! Come to momma and give me a kiss, baby. Mm…now, watch the lipstick. I just put it on.”

She wiped a smear of bright red lipstick from my cheek with a fingertip. She held me at arms length and gave me a good once-over, batting her eyes and looking me up and down.

“Mm…Baby, you look good enough to eat. Come on in, honey, make yourself comfy. There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

Desiree’s as beautiful as a large, black transsexual could be, and she’s about as flamboyant as they come. When I first met her at the Halloween party, she was decked out like a flapper from the roaring twenties. I’m a pretty big guy, but she’s taller than I am, around six-six, and she’s got a figure most female porn stars would die for.

She looked great today, with her long, kinky curly hair pulled back in a tight braid, and she was dressed conservatively in a black pinstriped pantsuit and a crème silk blouse buttoned up just to her breasts. She was wearing high-heeled pumps and was even taller than usual. She towered over me.

Desiree and my teacher, Linda, had met working as call girls back in college and hit it off. Desiree was still in the industry. Currently, she owned a sex club called Kings and Queens, and judging by her home, she seemed to be doing pretty well for herself.

“Hey, Swan!” She called out, pulling me down with her onto an over-stuffed, antique velvet sofa. “Company! Devin’s here!”

“Coming!”

She rested a big hand on my thigh and snuggled close enough for me to smell her perfume. A door that led into her kitchen swung open and shut, and Desiree smiled at me again as a tall, reed-thin guy dressed in sweats with a huge, nappy afro walked through the dining room, munching on a bunch of grapes.

Desiree gave my thigh a little squeeze, sending a warm, tingly jolt up to my crotch, and introduced us.

“Dev, this is my nephew, Swan.”

Swan chewed his mouthful of grapes and acknowledged me with a sleepy nod. He sat and slouched down into the chair next to us, threw his leg over one of the chair arms.

“S’up.”

“Hey,” I said, and nodded back, cool as he was. Two could play it like that.

“Swan just graduated from NYU. Didn’t you, sweetie?”

“Yup.”

I blinked. “Film school?”

“Yup.”

This time, I nodded appreciatively. “Wow.”

“He’s going to be staying here for a couple months.” Desiree smiled. “I thought you two might like to get to know each other, since you’re both up and coming directors and what-not.”

“Auntie says you into Zombie flicks, man.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Cool.” He grinned, showing a ton of white teeth, and nodded again. “Who and what.”

It probably sounds crazy, but I knew what he was talking about. Desiree looked mystified.

“Romero. Night of the Living Dead.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

I grinned at Desiree. Swan and I both said, “Best movie ever.”

He ate another mouthful of grapes. She shook her head.

“All right. Looks like you two already have a lot in common.” She patted my leg, gave me a kiss and stood up. “I’ve got to head to the club. I’ll see y’all later.”

Desiree bent and kissed Swan.

“Bye, Auntie.”

Desiree grabbed a small clutch and blew us both kisses, then she was gone.

“So. How you know my Auntie?”

I wasn’t quite sure how to answer that.

“We, uh…”

“You sleepin’ with her?”

Hell.

“We…”

“You know that she a he, right?”

“Yeah…”

“You cool with that?”

“Sure.”

He nodded. “Man, the rest o’ my fam’ly don’t even know. It’s the big secret, right?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” He scratched his nose. I could just feel the question coming. “So, straight up, man. You two gettin’ nasty?”

I licked my lips.

“We’ve slept together, yeah. But...”

“Damn, man.”

“But…” I interrupted him and kept on going. “…we’ve never had sex. With each other, I mean. There was someone else who…”

“Ah, yeah. I bet I know. Linda?”

Surprise. A little lightbulb popped in my head.

“You know Linda?”

He nodded. “Met her a couple times, when I was a kid. During holidays and shit, when I’d come out to visit Auntie. Always figured they were into some kinky shit.”

“You don’t even know.”

“Prob’ley right about that. Don’t know that I want to, either.” He waved his hand. “So, what is it you do?”

I told him, about work and school.

“I’m just finishing my last short film. Then…I don’t really know what I’m gonna do. I thought about moving to L.A., but…” I shrugged.

“Yeah. Me too. Go be where the action is, an’ all.”

“Yeah.”

He finished his grapes, chewing thoughtfully.

“Thing is, you can make movies wherever these days. Just need the equipment an’ some folks to do the grunt stuff.”

“Sure.”

“I got my own cameras.” He pointed upstairs. “Brought ‘em with me. Some nice digital. Looks as good as film up on screen.”

“I’ve been using a digital camera too.”

“Cool.” He sat up. “When Auntie told me ‘bout y’all, I got this idea. I talked it over with Auntie. She thought I might be onto something, wondered if you’d be into it too.”

“Oh yeah?” I leaned closer, interested. “What’s that?”

“Makin’ our own movies, man. ’Could mean some good money, if we’re lucky.”

I blinked. “Movies?”

“Yeah. You an’ me. We start our own production company, make our own shit.”

“You’re serious about this?”

“Hell yeah.”

I leaned back into the couch. “I don’t know. I mean…”

Swan had been relaxed for our entire conversation, thumping his leg on the side of the chair. But now he spun around so he was facing me.

“Look, bro. Here’s the thing. Auntie said she’d help with our cash flow. She’s loaded, man. I don’t wanna make some crappy indie shit that nobody but some tattooed patchouli smellin’ motherfuckers are gonna see at some outta the way art house theater. We need to get profitable, quick, or we dead in the water.”

That was the truth.

“So?”

“Auntie tells me you’re into some kinky shit.” He raised his eyebrows. “Me too, man. See, I don’t care if you’re fuckin’ her. It’s all cool. I think that’s why she introduced us.”

I didn’t see where this was going, and said so.

“I’m talkin’ about making porno’s.”

I blinked again. He grinned, showing me all those teeth.

“Y’know, dudes and chicks, chicks and chicks. Chicks with dicks. Hell, chicks with fuckin’ goats! Whatever we can get away with.”

“You’re serious?”

“How ‘bout we go get some grub, an’ I’ll let you in on what I come up with so far.”

I thought about it. “There’s a club not to far from here with a bar.”

“Food okay?”

“They make a sloppy gyros.”

“Damn. Okay.”

We both stood up. I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Porn, huh?”

“Yup.” Swan nodded. His afro bobbed back and forth. “An’ the crazier shit, the better.”

He stuck out his hand, and after a second, we shook.

“All right. Sounds cool to me.”

He grinned.

“Right on. Damn, partner. I’m starved. Let’s eat.”

***

I drove. Swan had to rack the seat back as far as it would go and bend himself almost in half, but he managed to squeeze inside the beetle. It was still pretty early, so the club was quiet when we got there. I didn’t see anybody I knew yet either, but the souvlaki joint was packed. We could hear the buzz of conversation from the curb.

Inside, I nodded to the Asian guy working the counter, Chucky. He slapped my hand, and Swan and I each ordered a large lamb souvlaki with veggies and extra feta. We got a couple drinks and found two empty stools at the skinny bar along the back wall.

Between bites of hot, meaty, drippy goodness, we slurped on cold beer and got to know each other, almost shouting to be heard over the music from the blues CD blaring out of the beatbox on the counter.

“I was born and raised in Chicago,” Swan said, licking at a blob of greasy sauce running down his wrist. “My pop left and moved to Brooklyn when I was little, so I spent summers with him, hangin’ out in the city. Auntie’s my mom’s…uh…” He tried to come up with the right word, then just grinned and shrugged. “Well. You know. Her brother. His real name is Shakim.”

“Shakim?” I blinked.

Swan laughed and nodded. “Yup. I think my Gramma wanted him to go into politics, get radical, join the Panthers or somethin’, you know? Mom says she always knew he was gay, even when he was a kid. But nobody but me knows what he’s up to nowadays, what with the titties an’ all.”

“So you’d come here and visit?”

“Mm. Yep. On vacations and whatnot.” He tipped back his beer and washed another bite down. “Mom was okay with that. She and Auntie were close as kids, so she trusts him. My Pop thinks he’s fucked up, but I could give a shit about his opinion. The motherfucker’s been a junkie since he was a kid. I figure, what the hell kind of truth can he show me?”

I noticed that Swan was slowly losing the hip-hop attitude, the longer we talked. Maybe he was getting more comfortable around me. I finished my sandwich, wiped my hands and shrugged.

“I don’t know. My dad’s drinking himself into the ground. I haven’t been able to talk to him about anything for a long time.”

Swan chuckled.

“See? All my old man taught me was to be scared shitless of needles. Maybe that’s enough.” He tipped his beer bottle at me. “You still drink, though?”

“Not usually.”

“Special occasions?”

“Only if it tastes right with whatever I’m eating.”

He studied me, giving me that sleepy took. Then he took another sip and grinned. “The beer does wash the Greek down nice, all right.” He polished off the rest of his bottle and wiped his mouth. “So Auntie says y’all spend the summer together in France?”

“Yeah. We’ve gone the last couple of years. Our…mutual friend lives there.’

“Cool. I’ve been all over the place, myself. Spent six months after high school, bumpin’ around Europe. Spent some time working as a chef at a bread and breakfast in France. Lived in Japan for a few months. That was crazy.” He pointed at the remains of our food. “Greece, too. Hot women, there, man. Whoo!”

“So how long have you had this…idea?”

“About the porn?”

“Yeah.”

Swan stared at the dozens of concert flyers pasted on the wall in front of us. For the first time, he really opened his eyes, and he smiled an easy, slow smile.

“Forever, man. For as long as I can remember.”

We dumped our garbage, and walked out onto the street to the disjointed rumble of music from inside the club. A band doing a sound check. A deep base line rattled the store windows around us, and I heard a muffled voice I recognized, singing through the PA system.

“Hey, you want to meet some friends of mine?”

“Sure.”

ScaryBrotha’s was a converted movie theater that the city had been ready to tear down. Some friends of mine that I’ve known since high school, Dave and Byron, bought it for about a dollar a few years ago and were slowly renovating it into a music venue.

They’d fixed the building up bit by bit, installed a full bar along with the little restaurant, and opened it up to the public about a year ago.

We got in line, but Suzie, the girl working the entry, caught my eye and waved me up. She put everyone else in line on hold; not caring that it pissed everybody off. She flipped open the bottom door to the ticket booth and gave me a hug. The club’s bouncer, a big, scary biker dude named Victor, stood like a rock behind her. He folded his huge arms across his chest, growled like a rabid wolf and glared at us out from under his sunglasses.

I glared back, and they both broke up.

“Dev!” Victor slammed me on the back with a hand the size of a football. “Been a long time since you dropped by, you little motherfucker!”

Suzie was still hugging me, going “bbbbbrrrrrrumsky!” into my chest.

“Just been busy.” I grinned and shrugged. “You know how it is.”

“You here to see K.C.?”

“We just ate next door...”

I pointed to Swan, who was slouching against the brick wall. He looked asleep on his feet. I realized the sleepy-look thing was how he reacted when he was in an uncomfortable situation. Like meeting new people.

“…and we heard some of the sound check.”

“Yah. I can smell. Here, c’mon in. They’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

Suzie let me go and stamped my hand. Swan peeled himself off the wall to follow me in, but Victor stopped him, strong-arming him with a palm to his chest. There was a hollow thump, and Swan grunted.

“Hey man,” Victor tried to peer into Swans’ heavy-lidded eyes. “You high or something?” He glanced at me. “You know we don’t let in anybody who’s fucked up. It’s bad for business.”

They were almost the same height, but Victor outweighed Swan by probably two hundred pounds of pure, lean, vicious-dog style muscle. Swan was so skinny; Victor’s hand covered most of his chest.

“No, he’s…”

I got that far, before Swan casually grabbed one of Victor’s fingers and twisted. There was a loud pop, and then Victor bent double, shrieking like a girl.

“Oww! Hey! Leggo!”

Swan let go. Just that fast. But his eyes were open now, and gleaming. Victor was holding the finger Swan had tweaked. It was bent at a bad angle.

“Sorry man. I don’t like people touching me.”

“No shit.” Suzie stared at him in amazement. The crowd around us was suddenly really quiet.

“Here, let me fix that.”

Victor looked like he wanted to run and hide as Swan reached for him.

“Serious, man. It’s just dislocated. We can pop it right back, no problem.”

Another loud pop. I saw Victor wince, and then he sighed, held his hand in front of his face and wiggled his fingers. Swan stepped back.

“There. All fixed.”

“Goddamn.” He flexed his hand again, and finally grinned at Swan. “Get your ass inside, before I call the cops.”

Suzie stamped Swan, and I heard Victor muttering something about those damn kids as we disappeared through the doors.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Swan said, following me through the growing crowd of pierced hipsters. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

What could I say? “Okay.”

“Seriously. I just reacted, you know?”

I nodded again. “Okay.”

“I just freaked you out, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. A little.”

“Shit. I was just tryin’ to keep a low profile.”

“Right.”

“Auntie taught me all that stuff. She used to be really into martial arts. Thought I’d need to know how to protect myself, you know? With my pop leavin’ me alone in a fuckin’ crack house all the time.” His lip turned up in a snarl. “She was right. Knowin’ the shit helped. If the homie’s knew you were like Bruce Lee, they didn’t fuck with you as much. Got respect the first time I kicked somebody’s ass.”

“Well, I think you made an impression.”

“Aw, fuck.”

We turned and stepped into the main floor of the club. There was a bar that ran along the back wall, that served light drinks like coffee and soda, and there were tables that seated three or four people roped off along the side. The stage was down front. Dave and Byron had kept the theater’s original stage, but reinforced it for safety, so the bands could jump around all they wanted. The dressing rooms for the acts were upstairs, along with another, full bar and a balcony for the VIPS; the pretty, important people could hang out and pose while they mingled with the stars, and not rub elbows with us common folk.

I didn’t think we’d find my buddies up there. I was right.

I paused and peered over the sea of heads, bobbing to the canned house music thumping out of the speakers, some reggae. I only had to scan half the room before I saw them. Dave and KC were hanging out with some other folks I knew, all grouped together at the tables down in front, not far from the stage. For some reason, Byron wasn’t around tonight. He was probably out dorking one of his honeys.

I went to school with all of them, KC too: he was a chubby gay white boy with a monster singing voice. Some local music critic recently described his voice as sounding like Etta James soaked with warm honey.

That’s about right, I think.

KC wanted to be a soul diva since he was five, and he started a band with our buddy Porter during college. They called themselves maybe five different things before deciding on the Soul Disciples. Now they’ve been playing clubs around town for a while, attracting bunches of faithful groupies who flock to see them play. Seems like we weren’t the only crowd who missed being able to go out and groove to a real band and not have to deal with gang-bangers and bad rap acts. Like KC says, it’s all about Soul.

They’ve been rewarded by finally attracting some serious label attention.

KC waved when he saw me.

“Dev-Dev!”

He was already sweating, probably from goofing around during the equipment check. He doesn’t hold back when he’s performing, even for the few minutes it probably took the club engineer to check the lights and the sound. By the end of a show, he’s usually guzzling pitchers of warm lemon water to help ease his throat.

The band hoped he could keep his voice until they cut their demo.

I just hoped he didn’t have a heart attack on stage.

I kind of half-turned to Swan, who was taking everything in, squinting in the black light and checking out the murals painted on the wall and the ceilings. Dave had them commissioned from a bunch of starving local artists, in exchange for VIP passes to the club. There were probably a few of them hanging out upstairs now.

“Damn. Some of this shit is pretty good.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Damn,” he said again. “I’d pay just to look at some of this stuff.”

Suddenly, I wanted to warn him about my sex life, which was full of sensitive information my friends just didn’t need to know. “Hey, Swan, I just want you to make sure that…well, most of my friends know that I screwed one of our high school teachers, okay? But they don’t know anything about Desiree, or…”

He grinned. “You mean you’ve never brought my Auntie here on a date?”

I shook my head.

“Alright, then. I got it. Don’t bring up the chicks with dicks thing. Right?”

“Right.”

“What about the business? They got anything against us being entrepreneurs?”

“I think they’ll be okay with that.”

“Cool.”

So I made another set of introductions, this time with no dislocated fingers. Swan and Dave hit it off right away. Dave was originally from back east too, and he’d gone to art school in New York for a year before transferring back here. We made small talk for awhile, then KC and Porter had to go to work.

The band started off with a nice, slow groove, the same song they used for the sound check. Dave ordered us a round of drinks on the house, and then folks around us started dancing. Swan drank and bobbed his head. His eyes were wide open. I think he was enjoying himself.

Dave knew Suzie had a crush on me, so he got some other employee to give her a break. She wandered in to check out the music. Dave waved her over and she sat next to me. I ordered her a beer, and we spent the rest of the night drinking and necking, then eventually we were groping each other on the dance floor.

I remember Swan calling it a night, late into the band’s second set. He patted my shoulder and left with some girl who Suzie knew, named T.J. He checked Suzie out as she was grinding her ass into me.

He winked and made a ‘mm-mm!’ sound, then T.J. was pulling him out the door.

The band finished up not too long after that, and the bartender shouted for last call around two a.m. And that’s when Suzie pulled me out of the club and dragged me back to her place for a nightcap.

I’d like to say that the sex would start here, for those of you who are wondering when the hell I’m gonna get to it. And it probably would, if I could remember much else after we got to Suzie’s apartment. But I don’t, really. Except that she has a little tattoo of a bug chewing on a leaf on the inside of her left thigh.

Oh, yeah. And her clit’s pierced.

I only remember that because she didn’t warn me. So I cut up my tongue, and it bled like a motherfucker. I could barely eat the next day.

So, with all due apologies, hold onto those boners, or whatever, and I’ll just skip ahead a bit, several Friday nights down the road.

***

Weekends and holidays at the store are a bitch, from a staffing perspective, insofar as it’s generally our busiest time (which is good). But on the other hand, seeing that most of my employee’s tend to be high school kids who all decide they suddenly need Friday night off all at the same time, it’s also the most aggravating.

Especially when you get two of them who are supposed to be working (one of them a freakin’ half-an-hour ago), but they both mysteriously get – cough - cough – sick at exactly the same time. Funny how that works, huh? The frustration’s enough to make a guy want to bomb the movie theaters, or wherever it is teenagers hang out these days. But that wouldn’t work; I’d just have to find some real employees.

Like that’s gonna happen.

So, just as I was slamming the phone down after the second ‘I’m calling in sick (this one actually had his mom do it for him.) phone calls, Stephanie walked through the door with three or four out of control little boys at her heels.

And guess what? She was wearing a swim suit: a tight, red one-piece, with a fluffy, flowery-patterned beach towel wrapped around her hips.

They were all wearing swimming suits. Stephanie’s hair was still damp, hanging in thick wet strands down her back. The kids ran screaming over to the games (No, you say. Not the games. Anything but the games. Dev, remember what happened the last time you told us about kids in the game section? Shit…), and then a couple of things happened at once.

While I was busy grumbling about assholes fucking around with me, Steph (as I’ve come to call her) sauntered over to the counter. She grinned when she saw my face, and I got a big fucking boner when I looked over and saw her big fucking tits packed into her wet, clinging swimsuit.

Thinking quickly, I pushed my crotch into the counter to try and hide my erection, which was, for all intents and purposes, completely impossible as my dick was suddenly trying to rip its way out of my trousers. By rubbing my cock up against the Formica, I just managed to escalate the problem.

So to speak. The wave of horniness that hit me was so intense, I think I actually groaned.

“Hey.” She said.

“Hey Steph.”

Then she made everything worse by running her hands through her hair, combing it back with her fingertips. It looked casual, but thinking back on the gesture, I wonder if she did it on purpose. I’m still not sure.

This time, I know I sighed. But I tried to be cool, to play it casual.

But, you know…

I was having a really, really hard time not staring at her boobs. I could see her nipples, for God’s sake. Every cold little bump. They were right there. Poing! Hard as little pebbles, poking out at me, just-like-that.

JesusChristAlmighty, this was bad.

She’s one of your employees, I thought. Get a fucking grip. I had to come up with something to say, other than telling her how nice her boobies were.

I didn’t get off to a swinging start, conversationally.

“So, uh, you guys go swimming?”

See?

“Yep.” She grinned. “How’d you guess?”

“I think it was the towel.”

I pointed to her belly, and my eyes drifted that way too, and I realized she wasn’t as chubby as maybe I thought. She was thick, but solid. Then my dick throbbed, and I actually got so dizzy I had to cling to the edge of the counter to keep from keeling over.

I took a deep breath, and swallowed hard.

“It’s a nice touch.”

“Thanks.” She shook her hair back and grinned again. “Is everything okay?” She asked. “You looked like you wanted to kill somebody when we came in.”

“Yeah, well. Ben and Norm just called in.”

“Really? So who’s working tonight?”

I shrugged miserably. “Jenny’s due in at four, but she can’t close. That was supposed to be Ben’s shift. I already tried Lindsay, but she’s out of town until tomorrow, so…” I shrugged again. “Looks like I’m pulling a double tonight. I…”

I trailed off. Steph was staring at something behind me, trying not to giggle. It looked like she was blushing. I turned around, looked through the big picture windows into the parking lot. There was a woman sitting in a minivan, grinning at me.

She waved.

I waved back. The woman made a face and pointed frantically at something behind me. I whipped around, and found Steph sticking her tongue out at her.

“Who’s that?” I asked. Steph made another face and tried to blow it off.

“That’s my mom. She just picked me and my brothers up from the pool.” It was Steph’s turn to sigh. “She’s teasing me.”

“About what?”

“Nothing. She’s just being an idiot.”

I glanced over at the gang of kids dripping poolwater around on my floor.

“So…” I looked back at Steph, who was silently mouthing something that looked like ‘shut up’ towards her mom. “Those are all your brothers?”

She stood up a little straighter, caught in the act.

“Oh, no, those are my little brothers.”

I blinked. “You mean…there’s more?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “I’ve got three older brothers too.”

“Wow. Eight kids?”

“Yeah. It’s a Catholic thing.”

“I see.” I shook my head, amazed. “Must get crazy during dinnertime.”

She laughed. It made her boobs jiggle. I tried to keep my mind on the subject.

“Where do you all sleep?”

She held up two fingers. “Two houses. My older brothers live in a house across the street from where we live.”

“Oh.” I said, and nodded sagely, like everyone I knew had a family of eight kids that lived in multiple dwellings. “That makes sense.”

It was Stephanie that brought the topic back to my staffing predicament. She took me by surprise, and said:

“So, do you need help tonight? I could come in and help close, if you want.”

Wow. Maybe I’ve actually gone and hired one of those real employees I’d wondered about.

“Are you sure? I mean, we won’t be getting out till after two, especially if you want me to show you how to close.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I don’t really have anything to do.” She tilted her head down and kind of peeked out from under her eyebrows. “I mean, I’d rather make some money then listen to my little brothers fight, you know? I could work tomorrow, too, and Sunday…”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Great!” She broke into a huge grin. “Just let me get these guys some movies, and I’ll go home and change…”

“Ah.” I waved a hand. “It’s okay. You could work like that.”

She laughed and went to gather her brothers. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

I wasn’t kidding. I would’ve loved if she’d just hung out in her swimsuit. But then, the way my dick was sucking all of the blood from my head, I’d probably just pass out.

***

Stephanie was as good as her word. Barely half an hour later, her mom pulled back up in the van and dropped her off. Jennifer, my other employee, surprised me and came in early too. I hooked them both up with their jobs for the evening, and then we had a huge rush of business between five and seven o’clock. The girls did a great job, even Stephanie, although she’d only been training a few weeks.

The flood eventually tapered off enough for me to run and grab some dinner at the market we shared the parking lot with. I ordered a sandwich and soup at the deli counter, then just kind of zoned out while the clerk made my food. I was so tired and hungry and spaced out I didn’t even notice Nancy sneaking up on me until she bumped my elbow with hers. She almost tipped me over.

“Hi.” She grinned at me. “Fancy seeing you here.”

I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked…younger than usual, I guess. She was wearing a faded purple denim jacket over a satiny, multi-colored blouse, and a pair of old jeans and sandals. I caught a whiff of perfume, and noticed that she was wearing a nice pearl necklace with matching earrings.

“Hi yourself.”

“Just getting off work?”

I tried to laugh, but it came out like a snort. “Actually, I get to go back after this.”

“Somebody call in sick?”

Another snort. “Sounds like you know what I’m going through.”

She smiled. She was wearing makeup, too. And no glasses…contacts, maybe?

“You just usually aren’t around here this late. And I thought you didn’t live close by…”

“Mm-m. I don’t, really.” I said slowly. My mind was still focused on how good she looked.

Something must’ve showed on my face, because she stepped back and spread her arms, then gave me a funny look.

“Do I have something on me?”

“What?” I realized I was staring, and blinked a couple times. “No. No, you just look…really nice tonight.”

I think I caught her off guard. This time she blinked, then she smiled.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then there was an awkward silence. A short one, but still…

“So…” I cleared my throat. “What are you up to tonight? Why are you so dressed up?”

I guess it was maybe the wrong thing to ask. Her face kind of fell, and she started to look more like the Nancy I remembered.

“Dan and I were going out to eat.” She heaved a sigh. “But he got called away for the weekend. There was a problem with one of his new fix-ups in Bend. The plumbing burst, or something like that, so he’s driving down for the weekend to try to fix it.”

“Oh.”

“So here I am.” She grinned again and kind of bounced her arms up and down, slapping her hips with the palms of her hands. I think she was trying to be funny, but she just managed to look even sadder. “Alone again, like usual. I thought maybe I’d just find something quick to eat and grab a movie for tonight, instead…”

I really didn’t know what to say to that. I managed a weak, “Sometimes stuff happens, I guess.”

Nancy shrugged, and we had yet another uncomfortable silence. Can you read where this is going? I thought I could too, but I still surprised myself when I opened my big mouth again. We waited together while the clerk rang me up, and then:

“So, he’s going to be gone all weekend?”

“Uh-huh. He thought he’d be back Tuesday or Wednesday.”

Here it goes…

“Well,” I handed the clerk a twenty, took my food and felt the palms of my hands get sweaty. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow…” Nancy repeated, with more surprised blinking. “Um, nothing…”

“You know, I’m off tomorrow, and I don’t have anything planned either. How would you like to go to dinner and catch a movie…?”

For a second I thought she was going to slap me. I really did. But then she smiled again, and the years seemed to just melt away.

“Okay…”

***

I walked back to the store in a daze and was going to head straight into my office and eat, but somebody was calling my name. Swan was waiting at the counter with his sleepy look in place, chatting up Jennifer. Stephanie was busy at one of the computer terminals, checking in returns. She peeked up and gave me one of her little grins.

“What’s goin’ on, brother-man?” Swan grinned, we slapped hands. “Tried to call, but these fine young ladies said you were out eatin’.” He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “Why you still here, man?”

“Long story.”

“Like that, huh? Some geek call and say they sick, can’t come in an’ shit?”

“Yep.”

“So you gonna be closin’ up shop tonight, huh?”

“Yep.”

He winked at Jen. Stephanie hid another grin. “Sorry, man. That’s bullshit.”

“Yep.”

“Y’all ain’t real talkative when you’re pissed off, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. That’s cool.” He frowned like Al Pacino in Scarface, nodded. “But y’all make me wonder why I even came by, with an attitude like that.” He sniffed the air. “Somethin’ smells good. What’choo got there?”

“Breakfast.” I jerked my head towards my office. “Come on back while I eat.”

“Cool,” he said, and ambled along behind me, looking an awful lot like a skinny, talking tree. He tipped up on his toes and peered back at the counter while I unlocked the door. “You know breakfast was a long time ago, don’t you?” I glared at Swan, trying to melt him into the floor with my super heat ray vision. He just grinned again. “Dev, you got some hotties workin’ for you man.”

I opened the door and he followed me in, walked around the little space looking at movie posters. I opened my bag and dug out my dinner. “You think?”

“Hell, yeah.” He plopped down in the other chair. “Damn that smells good…it’s a lotta food, too. Man, you can’t eat all that. Here, gimme a bite…”

I gave him half of my sandwich, hoping it would shut him up long enough for me to eat. I dug into my soup, and we ate in companionable silence for a minute. Then he piped up again. “You hate this place so much, why don’t you just quit?”

“I can’t do that…”

“Sure you can. Just call up the motherfucker who owns this place, and say ‘I quit’. Or you can send them a nice, typed letter, if you wanna be a sucker about it.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“I need the money. I’ve got bills…”

“Man, that’s pussy shit. There’s so much other stuff you could do…hell, Dave was tellin’ me he offered you a job doing advertising for the club. Making commercials and whatnot. KC wants you to direct a video…and I’ve seen the design work you did for Auntie…Hell. You’re just wasting time her, man.”

“Swan, all that stuff won’t pay my tuition, or my rent. It helps, but…”

He took a huge bite of sandwich and washed it down with a gulp from my soda. “I’m just sayin’ that you’ve got options. Lord knows I wouldn’t wanna interrupt your cash flow. How else am I gonna bum food off’a you?”

I snorted.

“Man, you don’t have to deal with the shit goin’ on here, if you don’t want to. Besides…you say you want to make movies. Right?”

“Yeah, of course.” I nodded. “I wouldn’t have spent a buttload of money on school if I didn’t.”

“Then why don’t you think spending twelve hour days here is a waste of your time?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. He was right. I sighed and gave him the rest of my soup.

“What, you don’t want that? You full?”

“It’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” He took a slurp. “Mm. That’s good. Hey Dev, you know I’m just fuckin’ with you. Right? I understand about keeping commitments and all that.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re right. Dave’s been telling me the same thing for years.”

“Wise man, brother Dave.” More slurping. “But you do have some fringe benefits.”

“What’s that.”

He waved his hand towards the door. “Like those girls out there man. They dig you. And that Stephanie girl, she really likes you, you know that?”

I finally laughed. “Right.”

“Seriously, man. I was out there scammin’ on…on…what’s her name?”

“Jennifer?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jennifer. She was tellin’ me about your flaky employees fuckin’ with you, then Stephanie gets all embarrassed and says she’s gonna help you close up tonight. You get that? ‘Help you close up.’ She digs you, man. I can tell. I bet you could fuck her right here on your desk.”

“She works for me. Won’t happen.”

He gave me the Scarface frown again. “H’okay, boss. Whatever.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Hey,” he leaned over, “Why don’t we hook up some of those little video camera’s in here? We can hide ‘em up there in the lights, an’ in the bathrooms and whatnot. That way if you do screw her we can catch it on tape.”

I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. He gave me an innocent shrug.

“What? We’re filmmakers, man. Remember? People are into that spy-cam shit. You think it won’t work?”

“I think it’s a bad idea. You say stuff like that, and I hear the sound of a heavy, barred door slamming closed on a jail cell.”

He laughed and sat back. “Dev, you worry too damn much.”

“Maybe. But I really think I prefer not to go to jail.”

“There are many prisons, Grasshopper. The worst prison is always in the mind.”

“Wow. That’s deep. Get it off a fortune cookie?”

“Hell, yeah. Auntie and I had some smokin’ take out from this little Chinese place by her house. Mm-m.” Swan finished off his half of the sandwich and started eyeing the rest of mine I wrapped a protective arm around the chunk of soggy bread and smacked his hand into the desk.

“Leave it alone. You already ate most of my dinner. How the hell do you eat so much?”

“I thought you said this was breakfast?” I groaned. “Man, you know I’m a growin’ boy. I gotta keep up my strength.” He patted his stomach and backed off, a little. “So…you really gonna be here late?”

“Yeah.”

“Too bad. I was gonna meet T.J. tonight, maybe hang out over at Dave’s place, catch some music.” He slapped a tune out on the desk with his hands. “She’s down with makin’ a movie. I was gonna see if you thought maybe you could hook up with that Suzie girl tonight. Maybe she might wanna be a star too?”

It took a second for that to sink in.

“You’re gonna shoot tonight…with T.J.?”

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I would’a taped some that night we all met, but I didn’t have a camera with me. She called me a couple days ago and we hooked up. She’s into it man. This is the beginning.”

“Wow.” I sat back in my chair, dumbfounded.

“Yeah. You should come with us, you know, hang out. This could be our first break, man.”

“Wish I could. Next time, sure, but I can’t tonight.”

“All right. I understand.” Swan stood up. “Duty calls, and all that. Hey, you sure about that spy-cam? We could hook one up in the bathroom too…”

“No way.”

He held up his hands. “Right. I won’t push it, then. But try to get hold of Suzie. T.J. says she’s freaky as shit. Getting both those girls together’ll blister my socks and make us rich.”

“I’ll call her this weekend.”

“Right on.”

Then I thought of something. “Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“I’ve got a date tomorrow.”

“For real?”

I leaned back in my chair, grinning. “Yeah. You wanna make some movies about old chicks?”

“How old?”

“Fifties. She’s a customer. I asked her out when I was over at the store.”

“Really? You gonna fuck her?”

I shrugged. “I’m gonna give it a shot.”

“She know about us?”

I shook my head.

“She married?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah.”

“He know about this?”

“Nooo.”

“Good. You had me sweatin’ there for a sec. Man. I had you all wrong. You do like to live dangerous. So…how you gonna work it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well all right. We’ll play it by ear. So now we got us a couple things on the plate. That’s cool.” Swan opened the door, letting in a rush of cool air. “Okay. I’m outta here. Check you later, baby.” He stepped out, then peeked back in. I could see Stephanie, behind him with her back to the door, bent over and putting away movies. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

***

We close late on weekends, at one in the morning. It usually takes about an hour to clean up, close everything down and count out our receipts for the day. Right at one I locked the doors and turned off the lights and the ‘open’ signs, then Stephanie and I got to work. I went over the closing checklist with her, explaining the process and helping her along, step by step.

I emphasized that she needed to be really careful, because she’d be working alone the couple evenings. We’d had people hide in the store before, and I didn’t want anything to happen to her.

She did pretty well, yet again, and we finished with everything but the deposits by twenty to two. We ran the closeout reports and pulled all the till drawers, and went back into the office to count out and go over the nightly paperwork. I sat her down at the desk with the computer and she got busy.

By that time, I’d been at work since nine o’clock that morning, and up since seven. I dragged the other chair around the desk behind Stephanie in case she had any questions, sat down and promptly fell asleep.

I woke up to her nudging my knee.

“Hey, Dev? I don’t know what to do here…?”

I blinked, totally discombobulated, and quickly checked my chin for drool.

All dry.

God, I hoped I hadn’t been snoring.

“Where? I mumbled.

I pushed out of the chair and leaned over her shoulder to have a look.

“Right here…” She pointed and trailed off, staring blankly at some vague space around my jawline. I started blabbing about adding up certain columns when I realized she wasn’t listening to a word I was saying.

“Steph…?”

She was just inches away from me, smiling this sweet little smile. Her head was tilted a little to one side, and she was still staring at me, her eyelids fluttering and her chest heaving, far off in some other world.

We were so close I could have kissed her. I wanted to. I wanted to tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her close, press my mouth against hers. I wanted to kiss her and nibble her on her ears and lightly run my lips down to the base of her throat. I wanted to watch her eyes close and hear her gasp for breath as I reached down and gently pulled up her shirt and touched her breasts…

One of us moaned, softly. I don’t think it was me.

In that very brief moment, I knew Swan was right, that I could probably do all those nasty things that were running through my head and more. I knew that if I wanted to, I could lift her up and bend her over the table, slowly unbutton her pants and tug them down around her ankles.I knew she’d be soft and warm and wet, that her panties would stick, just a little, as I pulled them down…

But I didn’t.

“Steph…? Are you okay?”

She blinked herself awake, and I saw a slow blush creep up her neck. “Oh. Yeah, I just needed to make sure I was doing this right…”

***

Somehow, we got through our little moment, and finished up just after two in the morning. Stephanie used the phone at the front counter to call for her ride while I got my shit together, and she was still there with the receiver stuck to her ear when I locked the office door. I raised my eyebrow and she gave me a frustrated shrug.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Nobody’s answering.” She hung up and dialed again. “Shit.”

At the front door I flipped off all the lights and got her new set of store keys ready. We stood there in the dark together, waiting. She was starting to look really upset.

“I think they’re all asleep.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Um…”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Let me try again.”

She dialed. I unshouldered my pack with my computer and cameras and set my gear on the counter. She crossed her arms and tapped a fingernail on her front teeth. I waved at someone returning some DVD’s in our after-hours dropbox.

“Shit. I can’t believe it. They forgot about me.”

“C’mon, Steph.” I picked up my stuff again, and headed for the door. “Let’s go.”

“Really? It’s okay?” She grabbed her bag, a big leather thing that probably had enough space in it for a scooter, if not a small car, and slung it over her shoulder.

“Yeah. Of course it’s okay. It’s the least I can do for offering to help me out this weekend. Here, you need to know this.” I punched in my alarm code. “Got it? You can use that code when you leave tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“You get to lock up.”

I handed her the spare set of keys.

We checked to make sure the store was locked tight, then we crossed the parking lot to my VW. I unlocked the car and tossed my bag behind my seat. Steph slid into the passenger seat and dropped her bag on the floor between her feet.

She was tucking a stray curl of hair behind her ear when I sat down and started the engine. It was still warm out, so I cranked back the sunroof while she looked around at interior of the old car.

“This is…cute.”

I gave her a he-man look and signaled, turning out into the street. “Cute, huh?”

“Yeah.” She grinned.

“Okay, then. Mock my car if you want to. I don’t need to give you a ride, you know.”

“Oo. Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend the big, macho car.”

“It takes insults very personally.”

“I can tell.”

I turned on the stereo. KC’s voice drifted out over the speakers, a copy of an acoustic gig the band dubbed a few months ago. My stomach rumbled, loud enough for Stephanie to hear it, and I realized it had been hours since the little sandwich I’d split with Swan.

She stared at my belly and laughed.

“Hungry?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah.” I glanced over at her. “How about you?”

A small shrug.

“If you want to grab a bite, I know a great place that’s open really late.” My stomach growled again, even louder. “Unless you need to get home right away…”

She was still laughing, and my stomach was still rumbling. “No…I mean, I like to go…”

“Good.” I said. “Because I don’t know if I’d make it home...”

The ‘place’ was a trendy, Cajun style bar and grill called YoMomma’s that was open until at least four a.m. on weekends. They served stuff like alligator jambalaya and spicy mac-and-cheese for the late-night club crowd, and they had killer deserts to go along with a huge selection of booze.

And because there were so few restaurants in town that were still open at this hour, they were always jumpin’. Tonight was no exception. There was a line at the door that stretched a half a block long. Fortunately for us, most of them were probably waiting for a spot in the bar, not the restaurant. I figured we’d only have to wait ten, fifteen minutes.

I parked the car at the curb across the street and killed the engine. Stephanie was looking out her window, at the crowd of hipsters.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Um. I don’t think I can go in there…”

Then remembered something I’d said to Swan earlier, about Stephanie’s age.

“Oh, hey. Don’t worry, I know you’re eighteen, but that’s okay, I know the owner. You’ll be fine, as long as you’re with me.” I winked at her. “And you don’t drink.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s a problem too.”

“What’s wrong?"

She turned away from the sea of black leather, tattoos and body piercings, and glanced down at her red polo work shirt, her khaki Capri pants and her tennis shoes.

“I feel like a dork.”

“Why?” I gave her a critical inspection. She looked good to me. “You look fine.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t have a tattoo on your forehead. Nobody here will either.”

Stephanie shook her head at me like I was a complete idiot. I was going to tell her to forget about it, and then she took a deep breath and stripped off her work shirt, right there in the car.

Underneath her shirt she was wearing a lacy, black satin camisole. With no bra.

Basically, instant boner for me.

“There,” she said, and tucked her shirt in her bag.

“Wow.” I think is what I said. I can’t really remember. I was too busy staring at her boobs.

“Okay. This’ll work.” She grinned and opened her door. “Let’s go.”

I scrambled out of the car after her, and she followed me across the street. I started to sweat, cold drops trickling down my sides, and I was wondering why it was suddenly so warm out when I realized that Stephanie was so short, every time I looked down to talk to her, I found myself staring right down between her breasts. Stephanie eyed the crowd some more.

“They’re really crowded.”

“Always.”

I was going to see about a table, but I heard my name called. I half-turned and saw a flash of curly red hair, and someone pounced on me.

Suzie.

“Dev! Hey, baby!”

She drunkenly pushed by Stephanie, threw her arms around my neck and shoved her tongue in my mouth. I could taste the booze. Stephanie went from bright-eyed and happy to looking like she wanted to run and cry, just that fast.

She took a step backwards.

“Suzie…”

I tried to gently disengage myself and failed miserably, so I just took hold of Suzie’s arms and pushed. She stumbled and almost fell. She would have too, if I hadn’t been holding her up. Then two more people disengaged from the line.

Swan and T.J.

They were stuck together at the hip. Swan had a video camera in his free hand, recording the whole scene, and was wiggling his eyebrows at Stephanie and showing me all of his teeth.

“What’s up, baby?” They wobbled over. “We were just leaving. Y’all here for drinks?”

T.J. glared at Stephanie, who had enough gumption to glare right back at her.

“No…we’re just going to grab a bite to eat, then we’re going home.”

“So who’s this?” Apparently not getting the reaction she wanted from Stephanie, T.J. interrupted and turned the glare on me. “Your little sister?”

“Y’all could hang with us.” Swan ignored her. “We were just heading back to T.J.’s to have a little fun…”

I stepped closer to Stephanie and put my hand on her back. I felt her muscles tense underneath the thin satin camisole, but then she relaxed. I rubbed her back in a small circle, enjoying the feel of the material against her skin.

When I realized what I was doing, I dropped my hand like she was on fire and hoped this would all end soon. T.J. glared. Stephanie looked up at me with those big brown eyes, wondering why I stopped.

Swan kept up with the eyebrow wiggles.

T.J was obviously pissed and looked like she was ready to rip off my nipples, but Suzie had forgotten all about me and was already wandering away, hitting up some goof-ball with a twig stuck through his nose for a smoke.

“Oh, God. Suzie!” She shouted. “Goddamnit, knock it off!”

T.J. gave me another look that told me she was willing to make me eat my nards, but took off to babysit her friend, who was now busy groping Twig-boy. We all watched T.J. wobble away in her high heels. She was probably just as drunk as Suzie.

I doubted either of them would remember much in the morning.

I took Stephanie by the hand. Her palm was warm and moist. I thought that maybe she’d pull away from me, but she scooted even closer, brushing up against my hips, and clenched my fingers tight. I sighed and finally answered Swan.

“I don’t think so. Maybe some other time.”

“Cool. All right, then.” Swan noticed our hands, shook the camera. “I’m gonna get us a movie.” He smiled, having to look about four feet down just to see Stephanie’s face, and he actually bowed. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. “Y’all have a good night.”

A few feet away, T.J. was trying to pull Suzie off the sidewalk, where she was flopping around, trying to unbuckle Twig-boys’ belt. T.J. started shouting for Swan to come and help.

“Lovely ladies, huh?” He said, and looked at me, glanced at my hand, knotted in Stephanie’s. “Hey, man…” he nudged me. “Told you.”

Stephanie didn’t notice; she was too busy watching the spectacle going on down the street. But I flipped him off anyway. Swan laughed and went to go gather his girls. I almost felt sorry for him, but I figured he’d made his bed. Then my belly gurgled, and I led Stephanie into the restaurant.

I didn’t see how Swan made out. Or Twig-boy either, for that matter. However, I did see the movie later. And it turned out that I was right: neither of the girls remembered anything later.

Anyway…

Once we got past the crowd, I tried to apologize to Stephanie for the mess she just dealt with outside.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“That’s okay.”

Stephanie didn’t seem too concerned about the scene she’d just witnessed. She just shrugged, like things like that were supposed to happen when you’re downtown at three in the morning, hanging out with your crazy boss, who you’ve know all of a month.

“So, um…” She looked up at me. “Was that your…girlfriend?”

“Ha.” I said. “No.”

“Oh. Good.”

I gave her a sideways look, wondering what exactly that meant, but she was staring at a huge painting of the last supper, with Christ and his disciples depicted as 70’s era punk rockers, that covered one of the back walls. I couldn’t read what she was thinking from the expression on her face.

“Can I help you?”

A big lesbian with a white tuxedo shirt unbuttoned down to her waist and a pink fish tattooed on her neck took my name and asked if we’d like to eat at the bar. I told her no, and, just like I figured, a few minutes later she had us seated across a table from each other, looking at menus. She never even bothered to ask to see our I.D.

Someone had scribbled the names of all the dishes in overlapping circles on construction paper, so to read the menu you had to turn the page around in your hands. I glanced across at Stephanie, who was fidgeting with her menu and looking around, taking the whole experience in.

The tables were mostly arranged in a series of long benches, like picnic tables, lined up in rows. A few booths for larger groups were scattered next to the windows. A heavy dance beat was thumping out from the bar area in back. A blue cloud of cigarette smoke mixed with the haze emanating from the kitchen grill. Waiters shouted out orders over the noise of the crowd for oyster shooters and carried leftovers back to departing customers wrapped in tinfoil and sculpted into animal shapes. I saw several ducks and lobsters sitting on partially cleared tables. The cooks rang a cowbell with each order up.

It was a little noisy.

Our waiter ambled over, tucked his tie into his apron and squatted down on his haunches next to Stephanie. He was eye-level with her tits. The air-conditioning was on full-blast and her nipples were hard, poking through her camisole. I noticed him sneaking looks while he reached across and pointed out dinner recommendations from her menu.

Stephanie ordered the spicy-mac. I ordered two oyster shooters and a large Creole salad (whatever that is) with grilled rabbit and peppered ‘gator meat, and iced-tea’s for both of us.

Standing up, the waiter took our menus and shouted towards the kitchen. “Two oyster shooters!”

“Two oyster shooters!” The kitchen shouted back, and then he was off to fetch our drinks.

Stephanie was grinning at me, said something I didn’t quite catch.

“What?” I shouted.

We had to lean over the table to hear each other. She bent close, giving me a great view of her boobs.

“I said, ‘oyster shooters’?”

“Yeah. Why? Did you want one?”

“Eww, no.”

“What’s wrong with oyster shooters?”

“They’re all slimy and gross! That’s what’s wrong.”

“Well, yeah, they are all slimy, that’s true. But what’s wrong with that?”

She made a face and stuck out her tongue. It was a cute tongue; tiny and pink. For a second, I imagined sucking on it, and said, “What? You know, there’s lots of good stuff that’s slimy and gross.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think so.”

“Seriously.”

“Like what?” She asked, all innocence. This conversation was starting to go somewhere dangerous, and I knew it.

That’s when our waiter returned with my shooters. He plunked them down in front of me; two tiny cocktail glasses filled with slimy, gross looking things about the size of my ears, drenched in cocktail sauce, butter and lemon juice. He set down a lit candle then stepped back, waved his order book and shouted, “Two oyster shooters! Ladies and gentlemen, if you would direct your attention to my two friends here…!”

Oops. I’d forgotten about this part.

“Folks as we all know, oysters have always been thought to enhance a man’s potency…”

Everyone cheered.

Stephanie’s cheeks turned pink.

“And this fine gentleman is willing to enjoy not just one oyster shooter. Oh, no. He’s willing to guzzle two of nature’s own bounty of love! Let’s all give him a hand and wish this gentleman’s libido long, robust health!”

He stood back a step and began to applaud.

Stephanie looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock.

The applause turned into chants. I picked up one of the glasses and saluted the crowd, then knocked it back. The crowd cheered again.

Wow, that was good.

I pushed the other shooter over to Stephanie, and shouted, “Your turn.”

“Oh, no…” She held her hands out, shook them at the little glass. “No way.”

Our waiter bent over and asked, “What’s her name?”

She was shaking her head. I gave her a wicked look and told him.

“C’mon everybody!” The waiter was pacing, working the crowd. “It looks like our friend Stephanie needs some encouragement!”

The chant started again…

“Go, go, go…”

Stephanie stared at me, then at the grayish-pink chunk stuck to the side of the glass.

“Go, go, go…”

She grinned weakly and picked up the cup. Then she took a deep breath, pinched her nose shut and choked the slippery contents down.

The crowd erupted with applause as she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed. She made a few more faces and almost turned purple, but when she finally got the whole thing down, she came up for air smacking her lips, her eyes watering.

Our waiter patted her on the shoulder and moved on to torture another table.

“Okay, so it wasn’t too bad,” she said, and guzzled half a glass of water.

“See?” I grinned. “Told you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not eating another one.”

The waiter was heading back our way, loaded down with a tray loaded with plates and drinks.

“That’s okay. Dinner’s here anyway.”

“Why do you like those things?” she asked, while our server plunked down huge bowls of food.

I thought about that for a second, and then decided, what the hell.

Go with the flow.

“Well, see, I’m almost twenty two, you know? I’m getting a little older…” I poured a light, peppery dressing on my veggies and dug into my salad with all the gusto a starving man could muster. “My libido probably needs all the help it can get.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm-hm,” I mumbled around a mouthful of salad.

She tucked that stray hair behind her ear, peeked up through her bangs and gave me that crooked little smile I was beginning to like so much.

We made small talk for a while, relaxed and enjoyed dinner.

It was during dessert, while we were halfway through two cups of strong coffee and an enormous slice of strawberry cheesecake, that she abruptly looked up and asked, “So…what other slimy, gross things do you like?”

I called for the check.

***

“Do you live around here?”

We were squeezed into my car again, the breeze blowing through the open sunroof, heading back uptown.

“Yeah, my place is just down that way.”

“Oh,” she said, staring out the window.

“Would you…like to come over for a little while?”

The invitation sounded lame, even to me, and I was already kicking myself mentally. But Stephanie rolled her head my way and gave me the smile.

“Okay…”

***

“Well, here we are.”

I unlocked my front door and flipped on the light switch. The lights blinked and then blew out completely. I swore while Stephanie laughed.

“Well,” I sighed. “Come on in.”

I lived in the southeast area of town, not far from school, in a big old house that had been split into three separate dwellings. My apartment took up the entire middle floor of the house and ran in a complete circle, starting from the landing I shared with Sarah, the girl who lived upstairs.

I held my finger to my lips, and pointed to another door up the short flight of steps. “We have to be a little quiet…”

“Okay,” Stephanie whispered back.

My door opened into a front room with lots of floor-to-ceiling windows that I used as my editing room. The rest of the apartment wrapped all the way around, through a living room with a fireplace, a big dining room, a small eating nook and a huge kitchen with a pantry, then into my bedroom and on into the bathroom. I guided Stephanie inside.

“Sit tight. I’ll go hit the breaker.”

“Okay.”

The ground level portion of the house had been converted into a community bike shop back in the seventies, and the aging hippies that ran the place used the stairwell that ran from the basement through the middle of the house, all the way upstairs as a storage room. They often hung out in the shop and worked on their bikes until two or three in the morning, until either I started yelling at them to shut the hell up, or Sarah started hucking shoes at the walls around the stairs. Sarah had an old, orange tabby cat named Barnaby that would stumble around with a contact high from all the pot smoke that wafted up through the air vents in the floors.

Home, sweet home.

I dealt with the lack of heat in the winter, and lots of bugs and the mice in the summer, because I lived smack-dab in the center of everywhere I needed to be. And the apartment was huge, and dirt cheap for the area. It gave me a lot of space, and as beat up as it was, I kind of liked it.

I groped my way into the pantry and flipped the breaker switch, then made a mental note to call the landlord about the problem again. The lights had been blowing out all through the building for the last week or so, and so far, no one had come out to fix it.

“There,” I called out, and followed a dull glow back into the front room.

Stephanie was wandering around looking at some framed black and white photographs on the wall in my front room. They were series of nudes of Linda that I took right after high school, when I thought I wanted to be a photographer or an illustrator, instead of a filmmaker.

“There are really good.”

“Thanks.”

She looked at me. “You took them?”

“Yep.”

She was quiet a second. I stood there next to her, watching her look.

“I like them a lot.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you still…take pictures?”

I shook my head. “Not much, anymore. I’m too busy.”

“Oh.” She sounded almost disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

I gave her a look over my shoulder as she followed me into the living room. I turned on another light, a lamp this time, and held my breath.

No problem. A small miracle, but the wiring held up.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Okay.”

“Tea all right?”

I think she was hoping for something stronger.

“Sure.”

She sat down on the futon sofa; put her bag down on the floor. I’d dropped mine in the front room, next to the door; the same place as always. I poured us each a glass of tea from a pitcher I’d made and left in the refrigerator. I put the pitcher back and peeked down the little hallway that separated the kitchen from my living room.

“I hope you like yours sweet…?” I couldn’t remember how she took her drink at the restaurant.

“Please…”

I could see her from where I stood at the kitchen counter. She was checking out my house, just like I was checking her out. I grabbed our glasses and walked back into the living room.

She smiled up at me from the couch and took her glass with both hands.

“Here you go…”

“Thanks.”

“So…” I took a sip and wondered how to handle this. Having this eighteen year-old girl in my house. This nice, pretty employee of mine, casually sitting on my futon in her underwear, checking out nude pictures of my freaky teacher and drinking my tea and whose parents were home asleep with absolutely no idea where she was…

I just kept thinking, over and over, like there was a little devil sitting on one shoulder: She has huge boobs…

And then, the dorky little angel on my other shoulder would say something like: You know if something happens, you’re gonna lose your job, and her dad’s gonna hunt you down...

Little Devil: Of course somethings gonna happen, you idiot. She’s here in her underwear, well, half in her underwear, anyway. So get it over with. Go ahead and make a move, Slick…

Little Angel: But she’s…chunky. You’ve never liked chunky girls…

Little Devil: She’s not chunky, she’s just…juicy, like a nice, ripe pear, or a plum, or some kind of melon, maybe…

Little Angel: Yeah, okay. Now that you mention it, I can see the pear thing…

“Sooo…” I said, trying to block out the goofy debate going on in my head. “How about a movie?”

“Okay!” She bent over and dug around in her bag. “I got one right before we left work…”

She handed me a DVD case. I plopped the disk in the player without even looking at it, used the remote to turn on my television. I sat down on the floor by her legs with my back propped up against the wood base of the futon. I took another sip of tea, used the glass to cover up the bulge in my crotch, and leaned my head back into the cushions.

Oh, God…

The movie started, and twenty minutes in, I still had no idea what it was about. I was too busy trying to watch Stephanie’s reflection in the TV screen. I heard her yawn, and the futon creaked as she curled up behind me.

The clock on the wall told me it was well after four in the morning. I watched people moving around in the movie, talking and doing whatever the script had them do, but I wasn’t paying any attention at all to what was going on. I could hear her breathing, slow and regular, and I could feel it on the back of my neck.

I turned to find her lying down with her head pillowed on her hands. Once again, her lips were just inches away from mine. She was wide awake, and she was staring at me again.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“Sleepy?” I asked.

“A little,” she nodded.

“Do you want to finish the movie?”

“Not really.”

I set my empty glass on the scuffed wood floor and pushed it out of the way, then I propped an arm on the edge of the futon and twisted until I could see her without having to crank my neck. We ended up even closer than before. Her breathing changed, sped up subtly, but I noticed. She licked her lips.

“So…did you sleep with whoever that was? In the pictures?”

I hesitated a second before answering, then I nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

“Who was she?”

I felt a slow smile spread across my face.

“My high school French teacher.”

She laughed.

“I’m serious.”

“No way.”

“Okay, don’t believe me.”

“Really?” Stephanie lifted her head a bit in surprise. “You slept with your teacher?”

Oh, yeah, I thought. If you only knew what I did with my teacher. I managed another smug grin. She shook her head and relaxed again, squirming to get comfy. That stray wisp of hair spread across her cheek. I reflexively reached over and tucked it behind her ear, brushed her cheek lightly with my fingertips. Her skin was warm and soft.

She caught her breath and closed her eyes.

I guess I’d made my move. In the back of my head, the Little Devil, Little Angel assholes kicked their running commentary into overdrive.

I took a deep breath myself, and started playing with her hair. It was thick and straight and soft as silk. I smoothed her hair down, away from her face, using the tips of my fingers like a comb, and toyed with a small, silver hoop earring that dangled from her earlobe.

Stephanie sighed, and her eyes fluttered open. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, and her high cheekbones had turned a rosy shade of pink.

The Little Devil was screaming at me.

Kiss her, dammit…

And then,

No no no, wait a minute, don’t do anything…

I told the annoying Little Angel to go to hell and followed directions…

Our lips touched, and Stephanie moaned softly, the sound emanating from deep in her throat. Her mouth parted slightly, and her little tongue flicked into mine. I slipped my hand around the back of her neck and scooted closer, and she turned onto her side.

I felt a hand lightly touch my chest, then another, and then she wrapped her arms tight around my neck and pulled me close. We kissed for a bit, and I let the hand that was stroking her hair drift down her neck and over her shoulder, down her back. She moaned again and kissed me harder.

I pushed her the rest of the way over and rested the flat of my hand on her hip, ran my palm slowly up along the side of her belly, again enjoying the feel of her skin under the smooth satin of her camisole. She moaned again and was panting hard when I slipped my hand over her breast and gave it a nice, gentle squeeze. .

“Oh, God…” she whispered.

Stephanie’s eyes flew open. She stopped breathing, her back arched and her whole body jerked up hard, shoving her breast into the palm of my hand. She pushed at my shoulders and her body trembled underneath me.

I froze solid, hoping I just hadn’t made a horrible mistake. Her nipple, hard as a little pebble, tickled the palm of my hand.

And then she relaxed, collapsing back onto the cushions, and almost growled.

“You okay…?” I whispered.

She nodded, and then hooked my neck with her arms again and pulled me back down. My legs were falling asleep, and I had to shift to a more comfortable position. Not as easy as it looks in the movies, to twist around and smoothly keep kissing. Our teeth clicked together.

I had to pull away a little and stretch my aching legs. Stephanie was squirming a little, her legs sawing back and forth against each other.

“Come up here with me…”

I raised my eyebrows. She pulled at my shirt and licked her lips, then scooched back as far as she could, but I shook my head.

“There’s not enough room…”

“Please…”

I grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her down onto the floor, right on top of me. She giggled and pulled the throw pillows off the couch with her. We thrashed around on my oriental rug for a bit, until I hooked a leg over one of hers and rolled halfway on top of her. I ran my finger lightly down the side of her face, back down her neck. I hooked the thin strap of her camisole under my finger and gave her a quizzical look.

“It’s all right…I want you to…” she breathed.

I wasn’t sure if that made it okay, but I pulled the strap down over her shoulder anyway. The thin material slipped over the top of her breast and then down to her belly.

I smiled. There it was. A big, firm, real live boob.

Finally.

Stephanie was breathing hard now. I smiled reassuringly and kissed her gently on the lips and cupped her breast with the palm of my hand, squeezing, tickling the tip of her nipple with my thumb. I kissed her cheeks and her forehead, and then trailed my lips to her ear and nibbled on her earlobe.

She hissed with pleasure and her back arched again, driving her thigh into my groin. I ran my tongue down her neck, nipped at her collarbone, and I slowly inched my way down even further. She was wiggling all over now. She had her fingers tangled in my hair, and she cried out softly with every inch my lips traveled.

I squeezed her breast hard, evoking a breathy sigh, and gently, lightly nipped the pink little rosebud crowning her tit, feeling the rubbery flesh between my teeth. I took as much of her breast into my mouth as I could, making her gasp and pull me even closer.

“Oh, God…”

I raised my head a bit, keeping her nipple between my teeth, stretching her breast, and then let go, letting it plop down. I kissed and sucked and pulled the other strap down until her camisole was bunched around her waist and I had both of her breasts free in my hands. She was twisting underneath me; pulling my face hard into her chest and rubbing my crotch with her leg.

Her little cries were coming louder now, and my Little Devil decided it was time to make yet another move.

I slipped my right hand under the hem of her camisole and tickled her belly. She moaned and pushed closer against me. I found the top button of her pants and yanked until the button popped. I pulled and was rewarded by the unmistakable sound of her zipper coming undone.

I casually kept sucking on her tits and gently slipped my hand down into the crotch of her pants. I was moving as slowly as I could, trying to feel my way along, not knowing how far she’d let me go.

It was a tight fit, so I used my leg to help pull her pants down a little. Then I let myself explore a bit, dividing my attention between the huge pair of nice, firm boobs up by my mouth, and the warm, moist coochie down at my fingertips.

She was wearing a lacy pair of panties. I slipped my fingers under the elastic band and tickled my way down, past the thatch of soft, curly pubic hair. She gasped again, and I froze, waiting. She didn’t try to slap my hand away like I’d half expected; instead, she pulled me back up by the hair and planted her lips back on mine.

“Mm-mmm…”

Her panties were wet already, and I went back to work while we kissed. I found her pussy, nice and slick, and her little nub. I lightly tickled her clit, rubbing it with my finger, and Stephanie went crazy underneath me.

She cried out and pushed my face against her neck, squirming as I slipped a finger inside her…

“Oh, God…Yeah…”

Her back arched again, and it gave me a little better access. I slid the first joint of another finger into her, and her entire body stiffened and started trembling. She clutched at me with her arms, running her hands over my hair, over and over.

“Oh…oh…”

I took my time, fingering her. She was so tight…