Life Of Paul - PDX Ch. 08

All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. All acts depicted are mutually consensual and agreed to by all characters involved. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons real or imagined is unintentional.

If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn't, or things you want to ready more of. I'll take advice into consideration when I'm working out the next parts of the LoP stories.

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February 2000

Dating in Portland was difficult to say the least. I was never great at just walking up to a woman and charming her into a meal or movie with me. When I was setup, I could impress a gals' socks off (and sometimes other bits of clothing), but never quite was able to close a deal on my own.

This failing of mine didn't sting quite as much as it did around Valentines day. The day when, at least it felt like, everyone was having sex but me. Restaurants were full of happy couples in their fancy clothes, jewelry shops did a brisk business, and the worlds supply of chocolate took a substantial hit.

Even my own shop had its best month yet, and it wasn't even half over. Lots of ladies and more than a few men buying lingerie for themselves or for someone else. Since I let my employees (all women since buying crotchless panties from a dude was weird) do all the customer facing things, I was stuck in the back doing owner type things like orders, inventory, and payroll.

One of my temporary workers, Ginny, poked her head into my office just as I was trying to understand how payroll taxes worked and what I needed to pay.

"Hey, Paul, there's a woman out here who would like to see you."

"Does she look like she's from the IRS," I asked. "Cause I think I'm going to get audited with this stuff."

"Uh," Ginny uttered, glancing back over her shoulder. Poking her head back in, she said "She's way too hot to work at the IRS."

"By all means, send her in!"

I stood up and smoothed out my pressed white button up shirt (one of three I owned) and willed my jeans to be not as shabby as they actually were. To my pleasant surprise, Morgan sauntered (yes, that is what she did) into my little office.

Just seeing her made my jeans go from 'shabby' to 'much too tight' very quickly.

"Hi, Paul," she said warmly. She came around and pecked me on the cheek before sitting down. Ginny closed the door after showing her in. I sat down quickly before she saw how excited she made me.

"Even after all the fucking we've done, you're still so easily excited when you see me, even fully clothed. That is deeply flattering," she said with a sly grin.

Despite her slim frame, she sported incredible F-cup breasts that were firm and proudly positioned on her chest. She was dressed in her usual well tailored and custom fitted 'uniform' of white button down blouse and form hugging black skirt cut to a respectable knee length. Her brown hair was in a messy bun that probably took her an hour to make look so good. The wire-rimmed glasses framed her sea-green eyes nicely, adding to her subtle, 'naughty real estate broker' type of sexiness.

Morgan, since even before I bought the lingerie store, shopped here for all of her more interesting outfits. You could even say she was the inspiration for taking over from the previous owner, Rebecca. And even though we've gotten together a bunch of times over the last year or so, she still had the effect of being stunning every time I see her.

"Maybe it's just the fact that I know that, underneath your clothes, you're totally naked."

"True," she said.

"What brings you by," I asked. "While I would greatly enjoy being the reason, usually you stop by my house for such a... assignation."

"Ohhhh, big word," she said with a laugh. "Although, I suppose that is typically what our meetings would be classified as.

"But that isn't the reason I'm here today. Today, I'm here on behalf of someone else."

"Hang on a second," I interrupted. "Are you trying to set me up?"

Morgan put her hand over her ample bosom in mock shock.

"Me? Sweetie, I know for a fact you get more bumper than a body shop. So you don't need my help in getting set up."

"OK," I said, leaning back in my chair. I was only somewhat disappointed, as February 14th was only two days away. And everyone else I knew had plans and, sadly, I did not.

"However, my co-worker Tricia needs some help there. And I offered your charms, and good humor, and companionship to her this Valentines day. So, you know; dress up."

Huh. And just like that, sadness gone.

"Two days isn't a lot of time," I pointed out.

Rising from her chair, she slowly stepped around the desk. Her heels clacked on the floor with each purposeful step. I noticed that several of her buttons had come undone, revealing a tantalizing amount of her cleavage. Bending over at the hips as she stood in front of me, she was positively spilling out of her shirt.

"I have complete confidence that you can work something out. A blind date shouldn't be that onerous of a task for someone of your resources and creativity."

"Perhaps," I said, openly staring at her amazing figure. "But I may need some, uh, inspiration."

Looking back into her eyes, she had a look of playfulness and intrigue.

"And how," she said quietly, mere inches from my face, "can I help inspire you?"

"Unbutton the rest of your shirt, and make this hard-on disappear with your mouth," I said, going for broke. She would likely say no, but better to ask and be denied versus never asking at all.

Morgans amusement turned into a smirk. She parted her lips and, tantalizingly, ran her tongue over her top lip. It was forever before she answered.

In a near whisper, she replied "I could do that."

Her hands went to my belt, undoing it and my pants quickly. With as baggy as they were, all Morgan had to do was pull down the zipper and carefully fish out my thick, hard, throbbing cock.

"If it will help out my friend in the end, a blowjob with this magnificent, yummy cock is a fair trade" she said, standing up straight and undoing her blouse. She was wearing a transparent white bra that showed the hard, dark pink nipples and large areola of her F-cup breasts. She took the blouse off completely and set it aside.

"Just in case I can't catch all that cum you fire in my mouth," she commented as she went to her knees. I parted my legs to allow her to get into position. "I'd hate to go to the office with cum stains on my shirt. That would be the second most embarrassing thing to happen to me."

Morgan grasped my hard member in her hand and took long licks up my shaft and around the head. I hissed at the pleasure as her tongue worked around the tip, and at the gentle pressure her hand began stroking with.

"What was the first embarrassing thing that happened," I asked as she took some bobs on the head. She rose up with a 'pop' as her lips let go of my cock.

"Remember when you visited me at the office a few months ago?"

"Good times," I commented, remembering the amazing fuck we had in her office.

"Well," she explained as she kept stroking my cock. "I was so wet that in nearly every meeting I had the rest of the day, I left a wet spot in the seats. If I wasn't wearing a black skirt, everyone would have seen how randy I was after you fucked me so god damn thoroughly. I was creaming literal buckets the rest of the day."

"I'd say I'm sorry," I offered as she took my head back into her mouth, "but I'm honestly a little proud."

"I'm not mad, but it was inconvenient. All I could think about the rest of the day was how I wished your dick was violating my tight little asshole."

Morgan went down, taking in more than half of my generous length in one go. I could feel the back of her throat as my head passed through it, tight and hot and amazing. Her full, pink lips stretched tightly around my girth as she took in more and more of my cock.

"Damn that is amazing, Morgan," I moaned as quietly as I could. Her motions were slow at first, but only at first. Once everything was sufficiently slick, she had only one thing in mind.

Pulling off, her hand continued to stroke my shaft with skill and speed.

"I want to feel you throb and feed me that hot load," she said. I was already excited but her words moved the process along quite a bit. I also saw that her skirt was hiked up and her other hand was between her legs, rubbing her pussy in time with her stroking.

I saw the passion in her eyes as she gave both of us pleasure. Her hand was doing an effective job of building up my cum, but I felt that I owed her a little more. Or in this case, an ass load more.

While she stroked, I reached into the desk drawer and pulled out a little bottle of lube.

"What's that for," Morgan asked, not breaking her stride. "My lips not enough?"

"More than enough," I said. I squirted some on her hand as it ran up and down my shaft. The consistency of the lube made her stroking audible now as she jacked me off.

"But this is for your ass."

I pulled her up by her arms and gently, yet firmly, spun her around. I grabbed her hip in one hand and pushed her down with the other, her hands planting on my desk automatically.

Her skirt was stretchy, which made it easy when I pulled it fully over her beautiful, round ass. I pulled her black thong aside and was treated to her tight, bare asshole and glistening pussy.

Now exposed, the need I had became an obsession. So much so that I didn't bother with the normal pleasantries of gentle probing or playing. Running the head against her ass, I could fell her flex slightly trying to relax. I pushed against her anus, adding more and more pressure, until the large head finally sunk in with a squishing plop.

"Fuck," Morgan called out as her ass succumbed to my assault. She bit her lip as I sunk more and more of my cock into her with each stroke. I was going fairly slow, but I wanted so badly to be buried completely inside her that it was, perhaps, faster than we'd normally do.

"Oh my fucking God, Paul, your cock stretching my ass apart feels so good," she panted when I finally bottomed out. I was completely sunk into her ass to the hilt, my balls resting against her hot, wet pussy.

"Too much?"

"I can take this dick anyway you can give it. So give it to me," she demanded.

Without further words, I started taking long strokes in and out of her ass. Her tightness threatened to push me over the edge with each plunge, but I held on so she could get off first.

She was an absolute fiend for my cock in her ass. We often had sex, but anal was usually for when there was time enough. Today we made the time, but that also doesn't mean we can't be quick about it.

As I withdrew nearly all the way, I pushed back in quickly, firmly, grabbing her hips to pull her into me at the same time.

"Oh my fucking God that is so good," Morgan panted. She was breathing quickly, rubbing her pussy with her lube covered hand. "I'm gonna cum soon. And you're going to fucking feel it hard."

I didn't answer her, instead speeding up my pace as I worked in her ass. I felt her flex as she worked herself into a frenzy, which helped get me going s well.

I was fucking Morgans ass at breakneck speed, the sound of her cheeks slapping against my hips echoing in the office. For her part, she kept her screams down to heated whispers and soft moaning exhales, punctuated by the occasional expletive. As I felt my orgasm reach its peak, I wasn't quite able to give Morgan any warning. Luckily she was to busy getting off her self.

"I'm there. Right fucking there. Oooooooh fuuuuuuuuuuck," she moaned as I continued to slam harder and harder, each pump unleashing another wad of cum deep inside her ass.

With a few final long, hard thrusts that made her cry out, I buried my cock deeply into her ass as I kept cumming. Thankfully, I couldn't say a word as the jolts of my orgasm continued to ripple into Morgans tight, hot hole. The sensation too intense to even form sounds for.

"Ahhhhh FUUUUU..." Morgan began to scream. I put my hand over her mouth to cover the sound. At least a little. She moaned loudly against my palm and I could feel her clamp down and bite my finger as her throat continued to rumble. It was quieter, if not more painful. Her ass contracted around my still sensitive, pulsing cock. The pain and pleasure of it was exquisite, with the pleasure slightly beating out the pain.

It was at least a solid minute before both of our orgasms had receded enough for us to move again. I let go of Morgans mouth, a final contented sigh escaping. Carefully I withdrew my cock, the head popping out with force. Her asshole, though, contracted nearly back to normal, much quicker than I recall it doing before. It let nothing leak out as I pulled away from her.

"Wow," I said as I reached for the wet wipes in my other desk drawer. "Looks like your ass is a little greedy for that cum. Not a drop spilled."

Morgan turned around and planted a wet, tongue filled kiss on me. We tussled for a moment before Morgan broke for air. However, all she did was look at me and smile, with those sea green eyes positively sparkling in the office light.

"That was probably the hottest sex we've ever had. Thank you."

"Even hotter than..." I began.

"Yes," she stated, cleaning her hands with the offered wet wipe. She adjusted her thong back to right and pulled down her skirt. While buttoning up her blouse, she finished explaining.

"And yes, my ass is definitely greedy. So much so that after work I'm coming by your place with take out. Then we're going to do this again. A few times. And that isn't up for discussion."

"Far be it from me to say no to a ladies request. Or demand, as the case may be," I said.

Once clothing was back to normal, Morgan had a few parting thoughts.

"So, about Tricia; she's a lovely woman, I think a little over 30, red head, and gorgeous. Show her a nice time as a favor to me. OK?"

"A nice time," I asked, "or a 'nice' time?"

"How about the first, and then the second if she's into it."

"Deal," I told her.

Morgan turned back to me again, her arms wrapping around my neck. My arms automatically went around her waist.

"And in case you need any... inspiration for our... assignation tonight," Morgan said quietly, her lips close enough for me to smell the rose scent of her lipstick. "Consider this: I am going to be sitting in my office with a pussy you made soaking wet, and an ass full of the hot, thick cum you shot into me. I'm probably going to play with myself under my desk, because just thinking about the load you blasted into me is keeping me turned on. And tonight, I am going to just destroy that cock with every one of my tight, hot little holes."

She kissed me hard, passion and excitement taking over for a few moments. When we broke, she turned smartly on her heel and opened the door.

"How is that inspiring me to help Tricia," I said quickly before she left. Turning to look at me over her shoulder, she had a devious smirk on her face. She came back to within lipstick smelling distance, but didn't touch me.

"Because, I want to hear all about the plan for your date with her. And even though I have my own agenda tonight, if you have a great date planned, I will be very... very..."

"Yes?" I asked with a little more desperation than I meant to convey.

Morgan leaned in so close I could feel the heat of her breath as she whispered, "Grateful."

Winking at me, she turned again and fled through the open door.

After standing there like an idiot for what seemed like an hour, I sat back down and started calling fancy restaurants. Be it charm or bribery, this date was going to be awesome.

#

The day of Valentines arrived, and it was... completely normal. The day itself didn't really have special meaning. Aside from quite a few semi-frantic visitors in the shop, frantically looking for a last-minute gift, it was fairly normal.

It was the evening of that held all the usual coupling festivities that made-for-TV movies told us is traditional. And thanks to some wheeling and dealing (and no small amount of bribery), my plans were set for my blind date with Tricia.

I really didn't know what to expect of her, except what Morgan said; 30's, red head, gorgeous. While that certainly piqued my interest, there were no small amount of red heads in the place I choose for us to meet. Still, I sat there in my best (and only) Italian suit, sipping my water like it was fine wine, waiting for her to arrive.

The place was a large jazz club in what was previously the meat packing district. The place was absolutely packed with people wanting to eat and drink and dance. The band that was playing was very good, with a female lead that belted out chords just as good as Ella Fitzgerald.

I stopped by the day before, asking for a reservation. After a few C-notes slipped into the hosts hands, a reservation to a nice, semi-private table on the upper level. You could see the other dinners and dancing folks clearly, and the noise, while still loud, didn't mean we'd have to shout to hear each other.

I was just checking my pocket watch, noting that she was ten minutes late, when the host came by.

"Your table madam," he said, pulling out her chair.

"Thank you," she said, taking her seat. I only caught a brief glance at her as I rushed to stand up as she arrived. But that glance was enough to confirm Morgans 'gorgeous' description was accurate.

Tricia had an oval face, a kind, wide smile and dark brown eyes. Her skin was flawless and had only subtle makeup on around her eyes and a slightly darker pink lipstick on her narrow lips. Her red hair was straight, shoulder length, and in that choppy sort of style that framed her face nicely. Her smile was wide, easy, lighting up her face as she sat down.

The dress she wore was a show stopper as well. It was black, with a hem went to her mid-thigh. It was sleeveless and showed her toned arms and supple shoulders. There was also a large key-hole cutout that showed a significant amount of cleavage from her epically amazing G-cup breasts.

I caught myself staring and tried to cover myself.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking my seat again. "Morgan didn't describe you in any detail, so I was a little stunned at the vision you present."

"Oh," she giggle, looking at me but sorta not. "How formal. I'm sorry I'm late; took me a while to find this place. I haven't been here before."

I poured her a glass of water from the carafe. I couldn't help but stare at her, but it was weird cause she was looking at... my tie?

"Do I have something on me," I asked her, checking myself. I had thought I was clean but I am also clumsy.

"No, I... did Morgan not tell you?"

Not tell me what? What did Morgan not tell me, and did she do it on purpose?

Thinking on it, she probably did it on purpose.

"Apparently not. Care to fill me in," I said politely.

"I'm blind," she said in a conversational way.

Damn it, Morgan. To her, 'blind' date meant actually blind. I made a mental note to take this out on her ass later.

"Does that bother you," Tricia asked. "We can call it a night if it does. It wouldn't be the first time; I wouldn't be too offended."

"Who," I started, "in their right mind would kick you to the curb? Especially in a dress like that?"

The words were out of my mouth before my brain caught up. I was right of course, but I could have said it better.

"I mean," I said quickly, "I don't mean to be so... vulgar... and... well I don't... aww shit. I'm sorry."

Tricia was smiling wide as I stumbled through the words. The little crinkles in the corners of her eyes showed genuine amusement.

"Morgan said you were a charmer," she said, nearly giggling at my embarrassment. "And I'm not offended; I wore this dress for that exact reason, to get noticed."

"You fill it out phenomenally," I told her.

"Thanks. And one of the good things about me being blind; I won't notice you staring at my chest."

I suddenly looked back up at her face, as I was indeed staring at the ample cleavage on display. She had that same smirk on her face, like she knew, which she probably did, but accepted it anyways.

The waiter came and took our drink orders, as well as some appetizers and refilled our waters.

"So what do you do with Morgan," I asked her. "Are you an agent a well?"

Tricia took a careful sip of her water. The site of her bring it slowly to her lips and the slight lipstick residue left was more sensuous than it had any right to be. I suddently became very envious of the glass for touching such magnificence, however briefly.

"I mainly do paperwork," she explained. "Titles, probates, making sure thing are signed, legal adherence... its all rather boring, really."

"Then why do it?"

"Because it pays ridiculously well," she said plainly. "And because I'm good at it, but mostly for the pay."

"Fair," I commented.

"So what about you," Tricia inquired. "Morgan said you owned a lingerie shop, but also did other things.

"How, may I ask, did someones so young come to be the owner of a naughty underwear store?"

"Well..." I began.

"And please, be as 'vulgar' as you need to be. I like a good, spicy story," she said. She steepled her fingers on the table and rested chin on top of them, intent on listening to my tale.

I told her about my invention, the resulting sale, and how I came to Portland as well as how I came into possession of the store front. I left out the actual numbers of dollars I earned and spent; I didn't want to sound crass.

"So," she said as our appetizers and drinks arrived, "from the sound of it, you're a self made millionaire who is now just engaged in fulfilling your lustful fantasies. Does that sound right?"

"No," I said reflexively. "No" I said again a little more (or rather less) smoothly.

"Well....". I had to think about it for a moment. Aside from the amazing women whom I've had the luck of being with, I was more or less just pursuing a hedonistic sort of lifestyle. Tons of sex, fun, great food, adventures... the very definition of it.

"Shit," I said after a few moments. "You may be right. And now I feel like a total fraud."

"I was mainly joking, but I wouldn't say you're a fraud," she said. She leaned closer to the appetizer tray to see what it actually was. Taking a piece of something, she sampled with a contented 'mmmm'.

"Since you recognize it, you'll probably do something different."

"I don't know," I confessed, "the things I do now, and the people I'm... engaged with, is a pretty awesome place to be."

She smiled in a knowing way. It was stunning to see and I was grateful it was directed towards me. She leaned closer over the table. I leaned forward as well, taking a moment to ogle her ample and amazing cleavage. We were conspiratorially close in terms of conversation.

"I'm going to be honest and direct for a moment," she said in a quiet and clear tone. "Morgan has told me... everything... about you. I know you get more bumper than a body shop, and that you have a knack for pleasing women. A gift, as she put it.

"You don't have to be shy, or vague, about how many women you've banged. Or are currently banging. I am, so far, having a nice time and I'd like it to continue without you having to tip-toe around any subject. So I will be the first to be direct."

She leaned in closer so our heads were only a few inches apart. I could smell the sweet scent of her lipstick.

"I am a very, very horny woman. I'd go so far as to say that before losing my vision, I was sort of a slut."

"How 'sort of'," I asked.

"Almost anyone, really. Guys, girls, groups, and more. But since I went blind, a lot of people don't want to date me."

"And what about now? Are you still a 'sort of' slut?"

"No," she said with a wide, easy smile, "now, I am a total slut."

"Really," I exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than I wanted to.

"Really," Tricia confirmed, still smiling. "I have a lot of pent up sexual frustration that will, at this point, take years to work off. So now when I get together with someone, I blow their fucking mind."

She leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of her wine. Recovering my senses, I did so as well.

"I am also having a pleasant time," I told her, "and I have, what I think, is a nice evening planned. But if Morgan was so forthcoming with the details, we could have just met at my house and gotten down to the meat of the matter. So to speak."

"Oh," she said, one eyebrow raising to illustrate her point, "we will definitely be getting to the meat, but later. For now, I want to be wined and dined and romanced."

"Excellent," I said. "Let the romancing begin."

Our meal came a short time later and we ate and chatted about our various interests, things to do in Portland, and life in general. I excused myself to use the restroom but really went down to the band playing and asked if they took requests. After the band leader heard me wanting to romance my date, she was delighted to only charge me a c-note to play "I've got a crush on you" by Elle Fitzgerald.

Going back to the table, I lead Tricia to the dance floor. I had to tell her that, sadly, I was a terrible dancer but she was happy to help out with the steps.

The dance floor was full enough that my lack of skill could hide among many other couples who, in fairness, were not doing much better. There were several people who clearly knew what they were doing, and several more who were simply holding onto each other and swaying with enough confidence to call it dancing. I chose to belong to the latter group.

Tricia, however, moved like she water flowing down a stream, graceful and with purpose.

She set one hand on my shoulder and found my other hand with hers. Her fingers were warm and light, but not timid. She guided my palm to the proper place at her waist, then stepped in close enough that her breasts pressed softly against my chest.

"You really are terrible at this," she said after our first few stumbling steps.

"I warned you."

"You did. I appreciate honesty in a man. As well as your willingness." She pushed her torso just a smidge more into me. She was warm and firm in the best ways.

"I have other qualities," I mentioned.

"Yes," Tricia said with a touch of excitement, "Morgan mentioned several."

"All of them are true. Or none of them. Take your pick." She laughed easily, musically even.

"Morgan can be a menace," Tricia said. "But an informative one."

I laughed and missed a step. Tricia corrected us with a subtle shift of her hip, like she had pulled a thread and the entire garment of our dancing fell back into place. There was no embarrassment in it. She did not make me feel clumsy, even though I totally was, by any reasonable measure, moving like a folding chair that had been asked to seduce someone.

Albeit a very dashing folding chair, but still, not my best moment.

The band slid into the song I had requested. The singer's voice softened, and the piano took the slow, sweet walk through the melody. Tricia's expression changed when she recognized it. Not dramatically. Just a little lift of the chin and a fuller breath, a smile sliding slowly across her lips.

"Did you do this?" she asked.

"Possibly."

She tiled her head in that questioning way that also felt like a you-better-fess-up expression.

"Alright, yes," I confessed.

"Did you bribe a jazz band for me?"

"That sounds crass when you say it," I said, trying, and failing, to sound offended. "I prefer to think of it as sponsoring a romantic moment."

She smiled, then tucked herself closer against me. Her hand shifted from my shoulder to the back of my neck, and I could smell the sweetness on her lips again. Her fingers grazed my neck, sending tingles straight to my toes.

"Morgan said you were gallant, but also ridiculous. I'm glad to see she wasn't exaggerating."

"Like, in a bad way?"

"No," she said, her thumb moving lightly at my collar. "In a way that seems to work for you."

For once, I managed not to ruin the moment with a joke, but only just. I held her and let her teach me the small motion of the song. It wasn't much of a dance. It was mostly her body fitting itself against mine while the world moved around us. I could feel her timing through her hips, through the pressure of her hand, through the way her breath changed whenever I got the steps right.

"You're improving," she said after a minute.

"Don't sound so shocked," I told her, trying to maintain the rhythm.

"I'm not shocked. I'm delighted."

"That sounds worse."

"Well, it isn't."

The music moved into the bridge. Tricia angled her face upward, not quite looking at me but close enough that I felt very much seen.

"I must confess," I said, "I'd very much like to kiss you right now."

Her smirk returned immediately.

"Well," she said, "let me slip these panties off and you're welcome to do so."

Every single thought I had ever had in my life walked out of my head, down my spine, and straight into my pants. It ended up leaving me standing there, basically unattended.

"Are you kidding? Cause I'll do it," I told her.

"Of course I kid," she said. "I never wear panties with this dress."

I almost missed two steps that time.

"You are definitely trying to kill me."

"Only a little," she said, her half smile doing a fantastic job of hiding her utter glee at my confoundedness.

"So," I asked easily, "do you normally put out like a fire hose?"

"Only because Morgan told me you also, shall we say, have fire hose like qualities."

"Oh, is that all you want? We could have just met at my place, and I could have made you dinner."

"And miss out on all the fancy preparations you did?" She sounded genuinely offended by the idea. "That would be rude. Besides, I'm looking forward to the rest of the evening you have planned."

She tightened her arms around my neck. The motion pushed more of her against me, and my body responded with the subtlety of a brass band and lots of drums.

"And afterward," she continued, voice lower, "we can get into the nighttime activities. And that dance is where I think we'll really start to have some fun."

"You think I'm that easy?"

Her hips shifted just slightly against me. Just enough to cause me even more trouble.

"Easy? Not at all," Tricia said. "But you have to admit, you're imagining me out of this dress right now, and that, I can plainly tell, is exciting for you. And causing that effect on you is a giant turn on for me."

She had a point. That dress I was sure would look great on my bedroom floor.

"You are fun, if not extremely dangerous."

She looked at me fully. Her eyes locked onto me. "I'm standing on a dance floor in a dress with no panties, being held by a man with a well founded reputation for endowment, talent, and stamina. I think we both enjoy a little danger."

That time I did kiss her.

It wasn't a quick little polite kiss. It began softly, because the moment deserved that much care, but Tricia had no interest in leaving it there. Once our lips met, her mouth opened under mine, and her fingers tightened in the hair at the back of my neck. With the taste of wine and lipstick and warmth mixed together, I forgot all about the steps, the song, the people around us, and the fact that I had ever been worried about Valentine's Day.

When the kiss broke, she stayed close.

"That was nice," she said.

"Nice?"

"Very nice."

"I thought it was spectacular. And all you give it was 'nice'?"

"I said very nice. Keeps you striving." That smile of hers, with all its excitement, danger, and inherent eroticism, was on full display and pointed in my direction.

We returned to the table for one more drink and dessert, though neither of us paid much attention to the dessert. Tricia explored the plate with her fork, identified the chocolate mousse with an approving hum, and let me feed her one bite only after I made an exaggeratedly formal offer.

"You know," she said, "you are allowed to help me with my food."

"No."

She paused, hand going to her chest in disbelief, or at least a valiant attempt at it. "You'd let a blind woman starve?"

"No," I said plainly, "but you know how to get around. I saw you put a finger in your glass when you poured the water to know when it was full. You probed the appetizer plate with your fork before taking anything, and when you sat down you arranged your silverware so you knew exactly where everything was. I take great pleasure in helping a woman, believe me, I do. But you are most definitely not helpless, and I'm not falling for that act. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me a ninth time, shame on me."

Tricia's smile widened slowly.

"You're right," she said. "I wanted to see if you were taking pity on me."

"Pity is for someone suffering. You may be hard of sight, but you do not appear to be suffering."

"Touche."

"Although," I said, taking a bite of mousse, "if you wanted me to feed you chocolate for reasons unrelated to pity, I could be persuaded."

"How charitable of you."

"I am a giving sort of guy," I said.

"That," she said, accepting another bite from my spoon, "is becoming obvious. And I am going to hold you to that high mark. Later."

After dinner I settled the bill, which did terrible violence to my wallet but had, by any romantic measure, been worth it. Tricia stood as I helped her with her coat (like a gentleman), and she found my arm with no uncertainty at all, slipping her hand into the crook of my elbow like we had been doing it for years.

"Where to now?" she asked as we went into the damp night.

"A little walk, then a show."

"You planned a whole evening. How romantic," she mused. I was glad that the effort I expended on her was appreciated.

"Morgan said to dress up. That means fancy things are expected."

"I may have to thank her," Tricia said, squeezing my arm with hers as we walked.

Outside, the city had that wet Portland shine where every streetlamp reflected off the pavement and every passing car threw red and white streaks through the drizzle. Tricia did not seem bothered by it, though I held my coat partly over her shoulders anyway.

"You know," I said as we walked toward the Park Blocks, "there is at least one good thing about you being hard of sight."

"I can't see how awful you look?"

"Ow. Shots fired."

She laughed and squeezed my arm again.

"No," I said. "With you taking my arm everywhere, I feel very gallant. Gentlemanly, even."

"From what Morgan has told me, you are a gentleman. At least until a lady asks you not to be."

"Care to explain that?"

"Later," she said. "After the show."

"Great. So I just get to sit there stewing on that vague and enticing comment while you sit there chewing on Raisinets?"

Tricia genuinely paused in her taunt to think a moment. "Yea, pretty much," said finally.

"Oh, screw you."

"As I said," she replied, leaning up to whisper in my ear, "after the show."

#

We walked slowly, not because Tricia needed to, but because it gave us an excuse to stay close. She asked me what the streets looked like and I told her badly. I described the wet trees, the old brick buildings, the students cutting across the grass despite the drizzle, and the silver light on the rail tracks. She listened as if my poor descriptions still gave her something useful.

At the edge of the blocks, a man had set up a little portable photo station under a canopy. A camera sat on a tripod, and beside it was a printer about the size of a toaster that hummed and blinked with little lights.

"Valentine photos," the man called. "Five dollars. Printed while you wait."

Tricia tilted her head toward the sound.

"Should we?"

"Do you want to?"

"Yes," she said. "I like having evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

"Call it a record of what things started out as," she said.

"You're assuming that we're starting something, huh?"

"Based on how often you're checking me out... yes." A must have turned bright red indeed for a mostly blind woman to spot it at night. She laughed lightly again. "This close I can see you just fine. And I like being looked at. I didn't pick this dress because of its warming factor."

"Oh, I don't know," I said with an appraising aire, pointedly staring down at her dress this time. "It's making me pretty hot."

We took the vendor up on his offer. The photographer positioned us with the natural bossiness of a man who had taken many bad pictures of people and wanted, for once, to take a good one. First he had us stand shoulder to shoulder. Then Tricia turned toward me, her fingers resting against my tie as if she were using it to locate me. Then she kissed my cheek, leaving a perfect dusty-rose-colored print that the photographer made a pleased little noise about. In the last picture I kissed her cheek, and she laughed right as the flash went off.

"Do another," the photographer said. "You two are good."

"Eh," I told him. "I'm sure the compliments cost extra."

"No, I mean it. One more strip?" He was pleading, and I was tempted to, but we had places to be.

I looked at Tricia. She was still holding my tie.

"We should quit while we're ahead," she said.

The printer whirred, then slowly produced a glossy strip of four tiny photos. Tricia held them close to her face, squinting slightly in the glow from the machine's light. I did not know how much she could see, if anything, but her thumb moved over the strip with surprising gentleness.

"Where did you get this setup?" I asked the photographer.

"Bought one of those mall photo booths, tore it apart, kept the camera and printer. Built the frame myself."

"That is genius," I told him. It was a genuinely impressive setup.

"Five dollars says innovative. Ten dollars says genius."

Laughing, I paid him ten and tucked the strip into my inside jacket pocket after Tricia told me to keep it safe.

The theater was only a few blocks away. It was large and grand, with tall columns and white marble all around it. People were milling in already, getting their concessions or just making convesation. The show was, technically, Mary Poppins. However, due to the last-minute nature my plan, and the brutal realities of Valentine's Day, our seats were quite far from the stage, in a box at the back of the theater.

This turned out to be ideal, although I didn't know at the time.

"I can't see anything anyway from this distance," Tricia said once we sat down. I repressed the urge to automatically apologized for the crummy seats.

"I can barely see anything, so I believe this is equality." I said instead.

"How progressive."

"I try."

The lights dimmed. The stage came alive in distant color and music. Tricia listened intently at first, following the songs and the motion of voices across the stage. During the first big number, she leaned over and whispered that she had seen the movie endlessly as a child and still knew most of the lyrics.

"Then this was a good choice?"

"Very."

I felt absurdly proud of myself.

At intermission, we stayed in our seats while most people shuffled out to buy drinks or compare opinions. Tricia turned toward me and lifted her hand. She touched my face gently, warmly.

"You know, touching a face is a way blind people say hello," she said, running a finger around my jaw. Her touch was light and playful, tracing lines across my face.

Her hand slid from my face down my chest. Then lower.

"Is that still hello?" I asked when she found my manhood through my trousers. Her touch turned from gentle to firm as she traced the outline of it.

"It is when you want to find out the really fun stuff."

"So I can grab a breast to say 'hi'?" It occurred to me that I might as well go for broke if this is the route she wanted to take.

"Please do."

I touched her gently, over the dress at first, feeling the heat of her through the thin fabric. The shape of her breast and nipple was enough to ruin my ability to think straight. My thumb passed lightly over her nipple, and it tightened beneath the cloth.

Her breath caught.

"Oh," she said, a smile hinting across her lips. "You have a gentle touch. Not common in men."

"It was the most logical."

"How so?"

"If you like gentle, then I do what you like. If you like rough, then it leaves you interested, and wanting for more later."

"So what if I was already wanting?" Her hand squeezed down very firmly on the middle of my shaft, blood rushed into the head. The theater around us might as well have emptied.

"Then I'd say we should finish the show and head to my place. I hate to keep a lady waiting, but I also hate to waste, as you said, a good chance for romancing."

She smiled and held me just as people began returning to their seats.

"That would be a shame."

The second act was charming, from what I noticed of it. I noticed considerably more of Tricia. Her thigh pressed against mine. Her hand remained on my cock for most of the act, not doing anything scandalous enough to get us removed, but doing quite enough to keep me in a state of enthusiastic distraction.

Halfway through the second act, I decided to have my own fun with her. As far hand was on me, her body was turned towards me to reach over herself. Her legs, supple and toned, were crossed towards me as well. My left arm was behind her seat, idly stroking her shoulder, which left my right hand free to explore.

I started with my fingertips on the knee of her crossed leg, gentle again, but stroking her thigh further and further up. After a few moments of this I started to stroke the other leg, using the back of my fingers to brush her skin. She responded by uncrossing her legs, parting them slightly. Her hand was still firmly gripping my cock through my pants, and I certainly didn't want her to leg go. I maneuvered my hand under her cock-grabbing arm and stroked her inner thigh, moving further up until my hand disappeared under the hem of her dress.

Her face, eyes half closed, lips slightly parted, looked at me as I moved my hand. The bliss I saw told me she was enjoying such devious play in a packed theater. We had a fair amount of privacy as the box we were in was far away, and not in direct view of any other patrons, but still, the public setting seemed to enhance her enjoyment.

My exploring fingers found the apex of her thighs, warm and slightly slick at the touch. I was please, but not surprised, to find she was indeed not wearing panties. I moved my fingers along her opening, feeling her, mapping her entrance, her clit, noting her face as I brushed over these places. Her eyes closed completely as I explored her depths, inserting two fingers into her up to the knuckle. I rubbing inside her for a moment before moving into her clit. I started with small, form circles around the glorious nub, hearing her breath catch as I started.

She opened her eyes to look at me. Even in the dark I could see her face slightly flushed. "Short strokes, up and down," she breathed, "and much harder."

I followed her instructions and changed my rubbing of her. The effect was immediate, as her free hand grabbed my arm. It wasn't to stop me, but more for support. Her mouth took on an ever larger O shape the longer I worked.

I massaged her clit as she wanted, stroking up and down with hard pressure, occasionally dipping my fingers into her pussy proper. As I felt her body tense, I focused only on her clit, rubbing and stroking. With my other hand, up to this point just around her shoulders, I moved it down to her chest, playing with her nipple through her dress. I gave it a firm pinch when I thought she was close.

"Oooooooooooh, you dirty fucking man," she whispered. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Her body tensed suddenly and then shook once as she peaked. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream, her head going back against my arm. Through my hand I felt the orgasm hit her, sudden and powerful. I paused my playing, but kept my fingers between her legs, my other fingers holding her nipple.

Tricia convulsed for a few more moments, silently cumming from my clitoral assault. The sweet agony of her orgasm was beautiful to behold, as her face and body were erotic beyond description while she was in the throes of such passion. Her breathing returned to more normal levels after a few more moments, and I gently released her nipple, and slowly moved my hand away from her.

The entire time, her hand never let go of my cock. She must have enjoyed handling it, or at least loved using it to stabilize herself. In any event, I'm happy she had such a fun time.

For several minutes she just stared ahead. The look on her face was rather blank, eyes still slightly closed, as if she was contemplating what just happened. She eventually turned her head to me, the serene expression lovely to see.

"That orgasm was great," she said.

"Oh", I replied, "Not 'nice', or even 'very nice'?"

She looked at me, put her lips to my ear, and breathed her confirmation. "You fingered me to a great fucking orgasm. Thank you." As confirmation she nibbled my ear hard, her teeth biting down on my earlobe while her lips brushed against the edges.

For the rest of the show, we actually watched what was happening on the far away stage. Every now and then she would lean in and ask what was happening on stage, and I would answer in a whisper that frequently failed because her mouth was too close to my ear.

When the show ended, we decided to waste no more time. As the applause started, Tricia stood up, grabbed her coat and started for the exit. I followed closely behind, helping her put on her jacket. By the time we stepped out into the damp night, we were both moving with brisk efficiency, intent on getting to the rest of the evenings plans.

The cab ride home did not help with my control to stave off the incredibly horny beast that Tricia had been teasing all night.

Tricia sat beside me with her knees angled toward mine, her hand resting on my thigh under my coat where the driver could not see. The driver was listening to a sports talk show at a volume just loud enough to give us privacy.

"Do you usually bring women home on Valentine's Day?" she asked.

"No, not usually."

"But not never."

"Well," I told her, "this may be a first for me."

"Oh," she said, "well, then I'll have to make sure this is memorable. You being a valentines-virgin and all."

She laughed and was silent for a moment. She leaned closer.

"Morgan told me about your shop."

"I suspected," I said.

"Can I see it sometime?"

"Yes," I said, "but only from up close."

There was a beat of silence.

Then she groaned. Loudly. "OK, I deserved that," she said. "For all the grief I've given you."

"Yes, you did."

"Is it true," she asked, her voice dropping lower, "that you have a special room where women model outfits for you and then you have sex with them?"

"Untrue."

"Oh?" She sounded almost disappointed.

"I've had sex in every room in that place."

She covered her mouth with one hand to muffle her laugh. Her other hand tightened on my thigh.

"Good to know," she said. "You know, for when I come by to pick up a few thing."

By the time the cab pulled up to my house, I had paid the driver before the car had fully stopped. Tricia held my arm on the walkway, heels clicking on the damp stone. I unlocked the door and stepped in first, turning on the hallway lamp.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Yes, but soon," she said.

"Soon?"

"Soon as in quickly. I am very turned on and trying to be polite about it." She already shrugged off her coat and hung it on the hook. The keyhole cutout in her dress was showing her breasts off even better than when we were at dinner.

"We can go upstairs," I offered.

"Why wait? There's a couch right there."

"Why wait?" I said, closing the distance between us. "There's a sturdy table right behind you."

She took one step forward until I backed into the kitchen counter.

"Why wait," she said, "there's a sturdy floor beneath you."

This was one of those moments that called for decisiveness.

I kissed her, hard. She answered with both hands in my hair and her body pressed against mine. Her dress was sleek under my hands, the kind of fabric that made every curve feel intentional. She kissed like she had been saving it up all night and had finally lost patience with the delay.

"Upstairs," I said when we broke for air.

"Bossy."

"A little."

"Good," she said.

I bent, caught her behind the knees, and lifted her over my shoulder.

Tricia let out a surprised laugh that turned into a delighted little squeal.

"Paul!"

"You wanted upstairs. I wanted upstairs. I don't see the issue." I took a few steps towards the stairs, steadily, however I could start to see the issue.

"I can walk."

"I'm aware."

"You just like carrying me."

"Immensely," I said, walking up the steps carefully, holding the handrail. "But this is more of a 'carting-you-off' maneuver."

She swatted at my back once, then grabbed the back of my jacket for balance as I carried her up the stairs. By the time we reached my bedroom, she was laughing hard enough that I had to set her down carefully beside the bed. The laughter softened when I kissed her again. It was enhanced by passion and need the longer we kissed.

We laughed into each other's mouths when we bumped knees, crossed arms, and generally stumbled over each other in our race to disrobe. Clothing came away in pieces. My jacket, her dress, my tie, her shoes, each thing dropped somewhere in the dark with no concern for where it landed.

The bed found us eventually. Or we found it, stumbling around as two naked bodies tend to do when hormones are at their peak. Either way, gravity took over with some enthusiasm.

There was no coyness after that. Tricia was direct and generous and impatient in the most wonderful ways. She told me when to slow down and when not to. She told me when something was good, then better, then unfairly good. We fondled, played, kissed, licked, and generally explored each other until we couldn't delay any longer.

"I need you," she pleaded as my fingers once again worked between her legs. "I've wanted you since dinner. I've need you since the theater."

"I couldn't think of anything else after seeing you in that dress," I confessed.

Rolling us over so I was on top, she spread her legs apart further, allowing me to see her in full. Her skin was smooth, perfectly soft, and had a consistent wheat-ish color that gave her a warm glow. Her breasts were a G-cup at least with faint areola and pink nipples only slightly darker than her lips. My eyes drew down her thin waist and flat tummy, focusing on her pencil-thin landing strip above her slit.

Perfect is a word I ascribe to few women. But it applied to her.

Seeing her bare, wet, and ready ignited my hunger again, and I moved my face directly between her thighs. My tongue found her first, sampling her like a fine wine.

"Oh, god damn it yes, Paul. Oh my god I wanted to feel your tongue on me since you first kissed me."

Being spurred on by her desire, especially since it had apparently be building all night, drove me to give her the best tongue lashing I could. I licked, nibbled, and lapped at her sex like a starving man at a buffet. My hands move under her legs and around her hips, thankfullly long enough to reach her breasts with my fingers. Her hands found mine as we both fondled her epic tits to further her pleasure.

"Oh, oh, ohhhhhhh, fucking so goooooooooood," she moaned at length. Her calls and moans were music to my ears as I flicked my tongue over her clit with all the pressure I could exert. After only a few more moments her moans gained in pitch and her body racked suddenly.

Her yell was a long, loud 'oh' as her orgasm came out of seemingly nowhere, shocking her beyond words. Tricia came so quickly, so thoroughly, that after the initial wave subsided shoud couldn't help but let out a shocked laugh, as if her own body had surprised her.

"That fast?" she breathed. Her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to sway like an ocean.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," I said, carefully releasing her from our entanglement. I moved up to place myself between her legs, my fully hard cock resting against her significantly wetter pussy.

"Morgan undersold you, I think."

"I'll be sure to lodge a complaint."

She laughed, still slightly unsteady in her breathing. "Yea, I can see that now; 'mouth too good, orgasm rendered me mute for an hour.'"

"Was it that good?"

Tricia pulled me down into a kiss. Her tongue fenced with my own, playing, twisting, tasting. "Yes," she said, "it was that good. In fact..."

With a surprising movement, Tricia twisted her legs around me and flipped us over. She was straddled over me, her pussy sliding up and now my cock, while her breasts were pressed into like a warm, soft blanket. Her face was inches from mine, smiling, content.

"I think I owe you some mouth action now." She kissed me again, softer but still playful.

"I'm not gonna say no," I told her.

"I may need to," she said raising herself into a full straddle, her hands going to stroke my shaft. "I don't think I've had quite as large of a man before, so it may be too much for my mouth."

"We can move on if you prefer," I offered. I silently wished her to want to suck my cock, as I'd been yearning for is since we danced.

"Oh, I'm going to try," she said, scooting down between my legs. She stroked the shaft a little and put it next to her cheek, staring up at me with a smile. "But the question is, will you cum when I start? Do you want to cum in my mouth?"

Holy shit, this woman was sex incarnate. To be honest I nearly came from her words alone, but I held off, if only barely.

"Eventually," I said, "but I think the first time should be as nature intended."

She opened her mouth and ran her talented tongue from the base all the way to the head, flicking the tip with her tongue. Slowly, never taking her eyes off of me. "Fair enough. Creampie it is. That is, if you can hold it in."

She took the head into her mouth with easy, sucking and lapping her tongue on the underside. Her mouth was wet, yes, but hotter than I expected. Her hand ran up and down my shaft at a sedate pace, her thumb expertly squeezing the vein with each upward stroke. It was amazing to feel her mouth wrapped around my girth, her lips stretched nearly to breaking. She adjusted her position and slowly sank her head down, farther and farther, taking my down her throat with surprising grace.

She got about a third of me into her mouth, stopping a moment, before pulling off to catch her breath. She stroked me quickly with her hand, her shiny, smiling mouth starting at me.

"I need you inside me. Right now. Is it OK if I blow you later and you can cum on my face?"

"Hmmm," I said, trying to sound funny with a hot chick wrapping her hand around my cock. "Let me think. Um, YES!"

She released me, straddled me, and ran her pussy up and down my shaft. She stroked me a few time, slicking things up even more. I moved my hips so that I was at the right angle, and pushed the head into Tricia with a firm thrust.

"Oh, fuck you are huge and perfect," she gasped. With the head in, she rose her ass slightly before sitting down more, taking me further into her silken depths. Her pussy was incredibly tight, hot, and slicker than I expected. After a few more times, she found herself completely impaled on my thick, hard cock.

"Holy hell," I exclaimed, wrapping my arm around her torso, "you feel so incredible. Hot and tight."

"You're stretching me out to my fucking limit," she panted. "So full and awesome. I love it."

She took a few experimental strokes, rising up until only the head was buried and the sinking back down to grind against me. We kissed, necked, fondled and sighed as she got accustomed to my presence so deep inside her.

Once we were used to each other, the need took over fully.

Using both hand to grab her firm, round ass, I pulled out and slammed back into her, my balls slapping against her cheeks.

"OH FUCK!" Her mouth was hung open, shocked at the feeling as I did it again, and again. I set a steady pace, but pushed hard into her with each thrust of my hips. Seeing her eyes flutter, her breath catch in her throat, her mouth contort at my fucking her, spurred me on. I quickened my pace, my desire to utter fuck Tricia putting all other thoughts aside.

"Oh my god, Paul, fuck me," she gasped. Her little moans sounded with each plunge of my cock. "I want to feel you explode in me. Fill me. FUCK ME!"

She kissed me again. The sounds we made were muffed by the joining of our mouths, out moans being traded back and forth through our lips. I felt my orgasm rise quickly, the heat of her pussy becoming too much to handle. I kept my pace, wanting to have as big of a cum as I could. She demanded I fill her, and I was intent on doing just that.

As sudden as a lightning strike, she broke our kiss and threw her head back. "OOOOOOOOOOOOH YEEEEEEEEEES FUUUUUUUCK," she screamed into my headboard. Her hands gripped by chest, her finger nails digging deeply enough to leave marks. Her orgasm didn't sneak up, nor slowly arrive. It crashed through her without mercy, racking her body and squeezing my cock so hard that it pushed me over the edge.

I slammed up into her pussy a few final times, feeling the eruption of my own orgasm flood that quivering pussy with every drop of cum I had. I came hard and long, the spasms passing over me at least a dozen times, firing off a stream of cum into her with each one. I buried my face between her tits, incoherently screaming into her cleavage. One of her hands went to the back of my head, pulling me closer into her.

We came for what felt like hours. Shocks and spasms being traded through our joined sex, a pulse of my cock setting of a squeeze of her pussy, which set off another spasm. For a few long moments, yet not long enough, she laid on top of me, still impaled on my slowly diminishing erection, my hands still firmly holding onto her ass. I could feel her breathing against my chest, her breasts pillowing out around her torso. We laid there breathing, satisfied in the after glow of a long awaited union.

I was the first to break the silence of the moment.

"So," I said in a more or less normal tone, "I guess this means I successfully romanced you?"

She turned her head up to look at me as I looked down at her. Her smile was warm, but snarky still. "I'd say you romanced the panties off me, but I didn't bother with them in the first place."

"Ah," I said with a contented air. "Then I at lest romanced the dress off of you."

"Fair."

"Also," I said, looking back down at her. "I almost want to apologize. For the... quickness. I usually want to see you cum a few times before me. Sorry it was so fast."

She looked up at me with a quizzical look. "First," she said, rising slightly to proper self up on my chest. "I have never cum that quickly from anyone. Whatever you did with your tongue and your dick, it was highly effective. I am almost positive I set a record for getting off."

OK. That I felt a ridiculous amount of pride for.

"Second," she continued, lowing her face to mine. I could smell her skin and feel the heat of her breath, she was so close. "If this pussy makes you cum in five minutes, that is quite the compliment. Morgan had commented on sex with you lasting hours. And I believe her. And I also am going to tell her that this pussy was so good that what took her hours to do I did in a few minutes."

I felt the stirrings of desire start swirling again. It wasn't immediate, but it was starting to come around.

"So," I said, "you intend to tease Morgan about how fast I was with you?"

"Absolutely," she said, laying her head back down on my chest. "What you think is a short coming, no pun intended, I think of as an incredibly beautiful compliment about how sexy you think I am."

The stirrings got a little more pronounced as she said this. My desire for this woman was easily becoming insatiable. This was also felt by her, being as I was still buried up to the hilt inside her. Her head back back to up stare at me.

"Holy shit," she exclaimed, moving her hips slightly back and forth to confirm. "Are you getting hard again? Already?"

"Well, you did say you were proud of what this pussy did to my cock."

She gently moved her hips again, rolling a bit to get the feel. "I felt flattered before. Now... fuck Paul, I'm fucking astounded."

I pulled her face down to me, kissing her with all the passion I could muster, intent on showing her how much I desired her. I could feel her smile as our lips explored and our tongues jousted with each other.

As our passions started to inflame again, my erection started to return. Tricia, feeling this development, continued to roll her hips and grind on my pubic bone, pressing her clit against me with hard pressure. Her moans reverberated through our kiss; satisfaction, excitement, even need being transmitted through our lips. It sped up my readiness faster than I expected, and faster than Tricia was prepared for.

"Holy fuck," she said as she pulled away from my face, "I knew my pussy was good, but that cock is amazing."

"Gimme a second," I told her, wrapping my arms around her torso. "I think I can do even better."

I lifted my shoulder, swung my leg around, and managed to flip is both over in a mostly dignified manner. The important thing though was that she stayed impaled on my re-hardened cock throughout the maneuver. This drew an impressed giggle from Tricia.

"That was smooth," she commented, still giggling. Her laughter turned into an excited inhale as I pressed down fully into her, bottoming out against her engorged vulva. "Oh, shit that is filling. I can feel you in my chest."

I pulled out and thrust into her again, the slapping of our sex echoing in the room.

"Soooo, gooooood," she moaned, her hands going behind my neck for grip. She looked me straight in the eyes, her mouth parted, her tongue tip touching her lips. "Fuck me like I know you've been waiting for. I want to feel every inch if you pound my pussy into next week. I want feel how badly you need to have me."

Her words, her tone, her explosive sexuality turned something primal on in my body that I rarely felt. I reached down and took a nipple in my mouth, biting down firmly with my teeth.

"Ow. Fuck. Yes. Use me. Make it fucking hurt to walk tomorrow."

I released her nipple, reached beneath her and grabbed her ass firmly in both hands. I laid my whole weight on top of Tricia, and she wrapper her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips. She pulled me into her as deeply as she could, and my need for for her grew exponentially. She wanted me. She wanted me to fuck her. And she wanted it as desperately as I did.

Her mouth turned to my ear and started nibbling. Licking, sucking, she ran her tongue down the side of my neck, sucking on it and biting into me. I started my movements slowly, but only until I felt that things were properly lubed. In only a few moments I was pulling out and thrusting back in my entire length with each stroke. I could feel her pussy press down on my with every penetration, the depth and warmth I felt pushing me onwards.

I had to fuck this woman, and I had to fuck her hard and fast and without mercy. It was as simple as that.

Her nibbling of my neck soon turned into pants, moans, calls under her breath as I slammed into her with animalistic need. She tried to keep licking, sucking, but sex was too good for her to think of anything other than just laying back and enjoying being used in the most base manner. I increased my pace as my own need started to rise quicker than I expected. I was hot for this woman, that was sure. But my second orgasm building so quickly was mind boggling.

However, my mind was not the organ that had control at the moment.

Gripping her ass even tighter, I slammed my cock into her hard with each plunge, bottoming out in her, my balls slapping against her ass cheeks. My hips were a fast, steady rhythm building fast to my next release. With my head buried next to hers, my breath felt hot against her neck, her mouth brushing against my ear as I worked in her.

I felt rather than heard Tricias next orgasm as it arrived just as suddenly as the others. Her body, quivering under mine, arms and legs gripping me tighter, shook us both with its intensity. I didn't stock fucking her, not for one second. My own release was too close to show her mercy, and I relentlessly pursued my need while she rode out her climax.

It was not long that her body movements, and her pussy nearly crushing my cock with its own orgasm-induced spasm, brought me to me peak.

"Cumming," I said through gritted teeth. "Now."

"Fuuuck," she moaned loudly. "Im still cumming. Or cumming again. I can't tell its so good. Oooooh fuuuuuuuck yeees, gimme everything that big hard dick can shoot! Make me feel it."

"OOOOOH FUUUUUUCK," I bellowed into the pillow. I came just as hard as the first time, slamming into her pussy as hard as I could. Her legs, tight around me, pulled me in even tighter as I came, her arms nearly strangling me and her finger nails digging hard into my back. Our simultaneous moans filled the room as our orgasms seemed to last forever.

I was still spasming, occasionally pulling out and slamming back into her, filling her more and more with every pulse of my cock.

"Shit, that cock is absolutely throbbing and pumping gallons of cum in me." Her heels dug into my ass, encouraging me to keep thrusting in to her. "I want it all. Gimme it all. Pleeeeeease."

I felt a few final spurts as my cock finally started to diminish inside her heavenly pussy. We stayed coupled like that for several more minutes, or several days; it was difficult to tell time just then. Eventually though, she released her legs from around me and I slowly pulled up and out of her. A large wad of cum squeezed out of her bright pink pussy, followed by a steady thick stream. She dipped a finger in the flood escaping from her.

"Fucking hell," she commented, "that is an impressive load. Thank you."

I collapsed on my back beside her, breathing heavily still. "Thanks. I cum as much as I'm turned on."

She rolled over and laid an arm on me, the other propping up her head. "So you're saying I turn you on?"

I looked at her in the eyes. Her smile was bright and genuine, eyes almost sparkling. "For as much sex and as many partners as I've had, I can count on one hand how many times I've been that turned on. And you'd be easily half of those."

She kissed me gently, easily. "I'm glad you think I'm so pretty. You're not so bad yourself."

I glanced at the clock and noted the time. From when we hit the front door to now, it had been only about thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes for four orgasms for her, and two for me. That may be a record.

Tricia laid he head down on my shoulder, cuddling up next to me. I slid my arm under her and she put hers over me. We drifted off then, spent and sated from our passionate, if not long, session. My last thought was wondering if she'd enjoy a second date, seeing as how well the first one went.

#

I woke sometime later to the unmistakable sensation of a warm mouth sliding slowly down my cock.

For several amazing seconds, I had no idea where I was or how I had arrived there. The room was dimly lit from the weak lamp and the faint red glow of the clock, which read a few minutes after one. My body was groggy from sleep and recent session, but the part of meTricia had in her mouth was waking up more rapidly than the rest of me.

She drew back off of my cock with a quiet, wet pop. She was situated between my legs, sitting on her haunches, my cock wrapped in her small, warm hands. The site of her stooped over frame, her g-cup breasts swaying as her bobbed up and down as a site I'll fix in my memory forever.

"Welcome back," she said, her mouth and chin slick with saliva.

"Best. Wake up. Call. Ever."

"Really?" She squeezed me firmly midway down my shaft, pushing out a large drop of precum from the tip.

"For sure," I answered quickly. "You're definitely the best alarm clock I've ever encountered."

She stroked me while I blinked myself fully awake, licking the precum with the tip of her tongue. Her red hair brushed over my hips, and the tips of it moved across my thighs as she bent to lick around the head.

"What inspired this?" I asked.

"I woke up and noticed you were half hard," she said, stroking my shaft at an easy pace. "It seemed a waste to not take advantage of such a treat, so I played with you until you were fully hard. Then I decided I wanted to make good on my promise from earlier and suck a load out of you. I did say you could give me a facial for being so accommodating for my need to fuck. Besides, it isn't a bad way to wake up, is it?"

"I'll finger and eat you awake later, and you can tell me."

"Mmm," she purred, flicking her tongue rapidly under the head. "That sounds fun."

She lowered her mouth again, taking a third of me in one determined motion. I moaned at the warmth and wetness of her effort. Her throat tightened around the head before she pulled back, breathing hard but laughing softly.

"Jeez," she whispered. "It's so thick I can't get it all the way down my throat. At least, not yet."

"I admire your commitment."

"Shhh. I'm concentrating," she said, staring at my cock with determination.

She tried again. This time she relaxed and took me deeper. I felt her moan around me when my hips lifted involuntarily, and the vibration sending me further down the path to cumming than I expected. Her hands worked what she couldn't fit into her mouth, twisting firmly as her tongue moved along the underside.

I was already close when I heard the front door open downstairs.

Tricia paused but did not lift her head. Her fingers stayed wrapped around my shaft, a significant portion of my cock still lodged in her throat.

"Paul? Are ya here, darlin'," Amanda called from downstairs in that delightful southern drawl. I instantly regretted giving her an emergency key, but it seemed a good idea at the time.

"I'm busy," I called back, which was both true and the most complete sentence I could manage.

Tricia released me from her mouth with a soft pop.

"But come up anyway," she called, sweet as could be.

I stared down at her. "You are exceptionally welcoming."

"It's Valentine's Day," she stated, rising up and sitting on her hauches fully. Her hands still worked my shaft at an easy pace. "No one should be left standing alone in a hallway."

"That's very generous," I told her, silently wishing that Amanda had waited five more minutes.

"Also, I want to know who has a key to your house."

Amanda's footsteps came up the stairs and stopped outside the bedroom. She knocked once on the open door, then leaned around it. She was still wearing her long black coat, though her normally neat brown bob had been disturbed by the rainy night. Her expression suggested that her Valentine's Day date had not delivered the romance advertised.

Her eyes moved from my face to the naked woman between my legs, then to the very obvious reason I had claimed to be busy.

"I can come back," Amanda said.

"I'll be done in a minute," Tricia replied, continuing a slow stroke with her hand. "Unless you'd care to tag in."

"I'm fine," Amanda said, though a smile finally broke through her irritation.

Tricia sat back on her haunches. "I'm Tricia. I'm also a little blind, so I can't really see you."

"With that much cock in your face, it's no wonder."

Tricia laughed. "No, I mean I'm actually hard of sight. But you sound like you had a rough night."

"Yeah. It sort of sucked."

"Well," Tricia said, bending down to kiss the head of my cock before looking in Amanda's general direction, "if you want to take advantage of Paul, please do. He's excellent at improving a girl's mood."

"Would anyone like to ask Paul what Paul thinks?" I said.

"No," they answered together.

That was fair. I was certainly not planning to object to anything two hot women had in mind.

Tricia took me back into her mouth. I put my head against the pillow and willed her to keep going while Amanda took off her coat and sat on the edge of the bed.

"So what happened?" Tricia asked between slow passes of her tongue.

"My Valentine's date was a creep," Amanda said. "Sort of like if 'I'm a pimp' and 'I'm smart because I listen to NPR' hate-fucked a raisin and spat out this asshole."

Tricia laughed hard enough that I slipped out of her mouth.

"That is horrifyingly specific," she said.

"Ya'll didn't have to sit through dinner with him. He spent two hours explaining wine ta the waiter and trying ta put his hand up my dress. Then he insisted on driving me home. I ended up punching him in the balls ta get out of his car. I walked here because I didn't want him to know where I lived."

Her voice had kept its normal dry edge, but something under it made my amusement disappear.

"Did he follow you?" I asked.

"I don't think so." She glanced back toward the hall. "Please, go ahead and finish Paul. He looks close."

Tricia went back to work with great enthusiasm. Amanda watched, her bad mood slowly changing into something more appreciative.

"Wow," she said after a moment. "She's taking that rod like a champion. It's like she can unhinge her jaw."

"Not quite," Tricia said after pulling off for air. "But I'm learning."

A hard knock sounded from downstairs.

All three of us went still.

"You don't suppose that's him?" Tricia asked.

Amanda's face tightened. "He must have followed me. I'm sorrry about spoilin' ya'll's evenin'."

I started to move, but Tricia caught my shaft again.

"You can't answer the door like that," Amanda said.

"Why not?"

Neither of them produced a convincing argument, so I got out of bed.

I walked downstairs completely naked, my long, fully erect cock swaying back and forth with each step. The cold air in the hall did nothing to diminish my condition. I turned on the porch light, opened the door, and stepped outside before the man had a chance to see past me into the house.

He looked about mid-twenties, overdressed and not entirely sober, with an expensive coat and an expression that moved from anger to confusion as he took in all of me.

I looked him up and down with theatrical disappointment.

"You aren't the regular boy I ordered," I said before he could say a word, "but you'll do."

His mouth opened. No useful sound came out.

I took one step toward him and reached down to helicoptering my erection at him. "Me and two other guys have been waiting. Now start stretching that jaw out cause you've got a big night ahead of you."

He stumbled backward, nearly missed the walkway, then hurried to his car. Tires squeeled against the wet street as he drove away.

I closed the door and looked up. Amanda and Tricia stood together at the top of the stairs, both naked now. Amanda had apparently discarded her clothes while I was outside for less than a minute. Tricia's arm was looped through hers, and both women were shaking with laughter. This made Amanda's H-cup tits and Tricia's G-cup tits jostle about in fascinating ways.

"What did you say to him?" Amanda asked.

"I made an offer. He declined the position."

They laughed harder.

"My hero," Amanda said when I reached the top step.

"I try to serve the community."

We returned to the bedroom, and at the ladies direction I settled onto my back again. Tricia immediately reclaimed her place between my thighs as if the interruption had been a brief commercial. Amanda stretched out beside me, naked and warm, and placed a kiss on my chest.

"Where were we?" Tricia asked.

"You were about to make me forget my own name," I offered.

"Right. I remember now."

Her mouth slid down my shaft while Amanda, ever the helpful little helper, licked one of my nipples, sucking it it between her lips. The combination was wonderful and nearly overwhelming. My body sensing that two mouths were working on me was still a strange sensation, but a very welcomed one. Tricia worked faster, taking me deeper and deeper with each plunge of her head, her hands twisting at the base each time she rose.

"She is beautiful with yer cock in her mouth, darlin'," Amanda murmured against my chest. "I bet she'll look even better covered in yer cum."

"Oh, fuck yeeeees," I moaned at length, the building orgasm from before came roaring back with a vengeance, mounting faster than I thought possible. But then again, there was something about Tricias mouth and hands and pussy and everything that I seemingly had no defense against. I peaked quickly, but she slowed her pace, drawing out the beautiful torture.

Amanda moved to my neck, sucking hard, her tongue working overtime on the spots she knew drove me crazy. Her lips moved to my ear, her voice a mere whisper. "Paint that face with cum. Show her how pretty ya think she is."

I'd say that sentence pushed me over the edge, but it was more like a truck slamming into me and a rocket sending me hurtling downward.

I warned Tricia with something that may have been her name but strained and gutteral. She held me deep for the first pulse, moving with my hips as I bucked at the surge, swallowing around the head, then pulled back and stroked the rest onto her lips, cheeks, and chin. My orgasm seemed to go on forever, each spasm adding another thick, shining streak to her face. Her hands kept expertly milking my shaft, timing her strokes with each spasm to extract the biggest wad.

Tricia kept stroking until I was completely spent. Then she lightly licked the head, sending one final shudder through me. I could only lay there, breathing raggedly, everything in my body tingling with the electricity of her amazing blowjob.

"So," she said, releasing me and turning toward Amanda while still wearing a thick cum mask, "since you aren't questioning why a naked woman is in Paul's room sucking his beautiful cock, I'm guessing this is a common occurrence?" She moved up to lay beside me opposite Amanda.

"I'm not at all shocked Paul has a hot woman in his bed on Valentine's Day," Amanda said. "I'm a little flabbergasted, but only a little, by yer easy attitude, but not shocked."

"I stopped caring what people think a while ago." Tricia wiped one finger across her cheek and sucked it clean. She scooper another stream from her chin, sliding it into her mouth as well. Her swallow was audible. "But anyway, Paul, this lovely lady seems to have had a bad night. Perhaps you can work your magic on her?"

She rose and made her way toward the bathroom, finding the door without help by tracing a hand along the wall. Watching her nude form walk across the room sent a pulse southward that seemed impossible.

Damn that woman was sexy.

"I don't wanna intrude," Amanda called after her.

"Oh, don't worry, you're not," Tricia answered over the sound of running water. "Paul's' already given me enough million-dollar orgasms to last a year. So the least I could do is share him for a few hours."

Amanda looked down at me, an eyebrow raised in question. "Is she always like this?"

"I've known her for about seven hours," I told her, "so I'd probably have to say 'yes'."

Tricia returned with a damp, clean face and her hair pushed back into place. She sat beside Amanda and let her fingertips travel lightly along the younger woman's shoulder, then down over the swell of one ample breast.

"Besides," Tricia said, "you sound like you could use a pick-me-up, and I'd love to see another woman tackle that giant salami. Fair warning, though. Since I can't see far, I'll have to put my face rather close to the action. I hope you don't mind."

Amanda smiled. It was the first full, genuine smile I had seen from her since she arrived.

"I think that would be just fine," she said. "I'd enjoy a close-up report of how good my pussy looks being stretched by Paul's thick member."

I remained silent. Whatever benevolent spell had settled over the room, I was not going to be the idiot who broke it. Hopefully I wouldn't be the idiot who broke it.

Amanda, looking at Tricia, lay back and opened her legs for me. Amanda always liked the more exotic side of sex, including toys and movies and a few other non-vanilla activities. Being watched, especially so openly, was something I knew got her turned on faster than a light switch. I turned over and moved between them and put my mouth to her sex, tasting her while her body melted against the mattress.

"Ooooh, that is exactly what I needed," she breathed.

Tricia lay beside her, propped on one elbow with her face close enough to follow what my tongue was doing. One hand moved over Amanda's breast before wandering its way slowly between her own legs.

"He looks very good down there," Tricia said. "Enthusiastic and skilled."

"Feels even better," Amanda answered.

"I know," Tricia commented. "He made me cum in mere minutes with that tongue. I'm hot just watching him do the same to you."

I used my fingers and tongue precisely how I knew would get Amanda off quickly. Since she was already turned on, it was easy to get her there.

Using pressure and tight circle with my tongue. Her breathing told me when she was getting close. Her sudden quivering told me before her mouth did when she came.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOH YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASSSSSSS," she screamed. Her hands grabbed the back of my head, fingers tightening in my hair. She quivered and shook hard as she climaxed, her legs wrapping around my neck tightly. Because I was in such a giving mood, I didn't bother to stop and let her come down. I continued my efforts and sucked as hard as I could on her clit, rubbing her g-spot with my fingers relentlessly.

Her second orgasm slammed into her right after the first. Her mouth was in a fixed O shape and her breathing just stopped. I felt her pussy clamp down on my fingers tightly, nearly squeezing me out of her.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH FFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK," she called out after an eternity. Her hips bucked a few more times before she started to settle down.

I glanced to the side to see what Tricia thought about the performance, but by then her breathing had become nearly as ragged as Amandas.

Amanda pulled me up for a kiss, deep and passionate, rolled us neatly, and settled over me in reverse cowgirl. My erection was somewhat restored, only to the minimal serviceability. She carefully guided me into her and lowered herself slowly, giving Tricia the closest possible view.

In the full length mirror by the bed, I saw that Tricia moved nearer until her face was only inches from where Amandas pussy was stretching around my girth. She inhaled deeply, her lips parted as she watched my cock disappear into Amanda's wet pussy.

"That is fucking gorgeous," she said. "I can see you stretching around him, gripping him so tightly."

Amanda rocked her hips, taking me deeply before rising again. "Keep reporting," she pleaded, "I want to hear how hot you think it is."

"Your pussy looks amazing," Tricia continued. "So pink and wet, and he's opening you wider every time you come down."

Amanda moaned and began to ride me harder. Her slow grinds soon turned into energetic bounces as she rose and fell on my hips. The site of her ass, round and firm, returned my erection more quickly. I reached out and roughly grabbed both of her cheeks in my hands, squeezing firmly.

"Oh yea, darlin'", she moaned to the ceiling, "grab that ass and hang on fer dear life."

Tricia groped toward the nightstand, never taking her face away from the action. "Do you have any toys?"

"Maybe," I said, doing my best to answer while Amanda's ass slapped against my hips. "Maybe a vibrator in the drawer."

Tricia eventually found it, examined it with her hands, then grinned when the motor buzzed to life. It was only about five inches long, but it seemed to be enough, as she pressed it between her legs.

"Oh, this is excellent," she said with a sigh. "I get a close-up view and a souvenir."

Amanda laughed, then lost the sound in a long moan as I began thrusting up to meet her. Tricia kept her face close, the vibrator working steadily against her as she watched. Her description dissolved into gasps, then into a sharp cry when she came. Her moans were muffled when Amanda drew her head and mouth directly in contact with the action.

With a few licks her Tricias tongue, Amanda came hard soon after, her third orgasm tightening around me so firmly that I had to stop thrusting or lose control.

"Oooooooooo FUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEA," she called out again. She slowed her pace but didn't stop. She released Tricias face from our union, her mouth and chin glossy from Amanda's pussy. Moving to a squatting position, with her feet planted on either side of my legs, Amanda started to bounce with speed and enthusiasm.

"I want it on me," Amanda said breathlessly, merciless as she worked on filling her need. She turned her head back towards me as she rode. "Pull out and cover me."

It was only through the sheer eroticism of the evening, the enthusiastic debauchery on display, that I had anything left to offer. But at her insistence of being covered, Amanda managed to coax another orgasm out of me. I told her I was going to cum and she lifted away, rolling onto her back between my legs. I got up and between her legs, stroking my long, thick cock hard and fast. Tricia moved beside Amanda's shoulder for a close view.

My first thick pulse flew farther than I expected and landed across Amanda's open mouth. The next streaked over her breasts and stomach, and the rest followed in thick spurts as both women encouraged me. Tricia was rubbing Amandas breasts, and Amanda was spreading her pussy lips apart, rubbing her clit back and forth with her fingers.

When I finished, Tricia leaned close to Amanda's face. She touched one shining streak with the tip of her tongue and tasted it. The satisfaction in her smile was unreal. The contentment on Amandas face was beautiful.

"Thank you for letting me watch," she said softly. "You're amazing and incredibly hot. I came twice just from staring at your body while you took all of Paul's thick cock in that beautiful pussy. So tight, so very hot and tasty."

Amanda pulled Tricia down and kissed her. It started as a simple kiss and quickly became something deeper, their tongues moving together as Tricia tasted the remnants of my cum from Amanda's lips. The separated and both of them looked at me, sitting there between Amandas legs, just staring at these two incredible women make out. I'd just cum, and well, but my erection only diminished slightly.

Tricia, hunger in her eyes from watching such a display, rose up, pushed me back down onto my back, and straddled me.

"I want you again," she said, a hand going between us so she could line up my cock with her soaking wet pussy. "I need you again. Watching you cum all over her was intoxicating."

She slid the head across her lips a few times and then sat down fully on my cock in one motion. "Fuuuuuuck," she moaned. "How are you still so hard after just cumming a gallon on those tits."

"You're both that fucking sexy," I told her, grabbing her ass firmly. She rose and fell on the entire length, moaning at the sensations.

"I'd say ya'll are easily the most sexy thing I've seen in a while," Amanda chimed in, idly sliding her fingers through the puddles of cum on her stomach and chest.

Tricia leaned down on top of me, her breasts pillowing out across my chest. Her mouth was wet, hot, and her breath was full of fire. "I'm already close," she whispered in my ear. Her ass started to rise and plunge on my cock at a brisk pace. "Watching you fuck Amanda, seeing that cock of yours make her absolutely crazy, was incredibly erotic. The vibrator got me off, but I want your cock to make me cum."

To say I was inspired would be an understatement. Gripping her ass even tighter, I lifted her slightly and started slamming into her hard and fast. Her breath caught in her throat at the suddenness of my fucking up into her, but it was soon replaced by long, low moans. I worked in her at this pace for a few minutes before I felt her pussy clamp down on me with an insane amount of pressure.

"MMMMmmmmmmmff," was the only thing that came out of her mouth, as she bit down hard on my neck, the pain of her teeth making me pause in my fucking. She kept her mouth on me as she rode out her orgasm, muffled screams and moans vibrating through my entire body, rippling down to connect with the spasms her pussy was squeezing me with. It was a few minutes before she brought her head up for air, her hands pressing into my chest for balance.

"Oh... my fucking... god..." she said between long breaths. The amount her chest was heaving told me it was a good one for her. I felt more than a little proud of myself.

"That was quick, Paul" Amanda said, glancing at the clock. "I mean, ya came once and then were ready fer me again. I aint seen that out of ya before. But to give her another orgasm so quick is beyond belief."

"I was told he usually lasts much longer," Tricia said, still breathing deeply. "I was warned about hours. But I'm not at all disappointed with the outcome. Or out-cums, as it were."

"Your pussy appears to have a strange, wondrous effect on me," I said.

"And your cock has a strange, wondrous effect on me. I believe we're both victims here."

"Ya poor things," Amanda said, deadpan yet full of snark. "What a burden it is, sufferin' Paul's magical orgasm-grantin' cock. However will ya'll cope?"

Tricia answered with a laugh. Light and genuine and lovely.

I laid back down and Tricia sidled up next to me, laying against my shoulder once more. Amanda, in much better spirits now, rolled off th bed and gathered her things. Rather than putting her clothes back on, she coat and wrapped it around her naked body, ignoring the cum covering most of her torso and tits.

Moving to the side of the bed, she kissed me with enough tongue to make her satisfaction unambiguous, then bent across me and gave Tricia an equally deep kiss.

"It was lovely meeting you," Tricia said brightly, as if she were talking to a departing friend out on the porch.

"Likewise. Thanks for sharing yer date."

Amanda tied her coat and walked out of the room and down the stairs. A moment later the front door opened and closed.

Tricia and I lay there, contented and sated amid the badly tangled and messy sheets. She found my chest, tucked her head against it, and draped one leg over mine.

"Your friends are interesting," she said. "Lots of fun. Are they all like that?"

"Strangely," I said, my hand going over her shoulder with light strokes. "A lot more than you'd think."

"How about Morgan?"

"I don't want to get Morgan in trouble," I said. "But outside of work, she's a lot of 'fun' as well."

"Inside of work too," Tricia commented.

"Oh," I said, interest peaking. "And what do you mean by that, pray tell."

"I would," she said, "but I'm afraid that it'll just get us both excited again, and I think one more orgasm would kill us."

"Fair," I said. We laid there a few minutes, just breathing together.

"So," I said into the top of her head, "given how this date went, would you want to go out with me again?"

She kissed my chest. I could feel the smile on her lips.

"Ask me after breakfast."

We fell asleep again before I could follow up.

#

Morning arrived through the open curtains, landing directly across my face with the precision of a dump truck.

Tricia was still asleep beside me, her red hair spread across the pillow and one hand resting on my stomach. She looked like she was smiling as she dreamt, making me curious what form of sugar plums were dancing around her head. Sometime during the night we managed to find a blanket, though not enough of it to cover either of us with any real modesty since it only went up to our hips. Her lithe, curvaceous form was positively glowing in the morning light.

I slipped out from under her arm, pulled on a some sweats, and went in search of breakfast.

Tricia was sitting against the headboard when I came back, wrapped in the sheet and smiling toward the sound of the door.

"You abandoned me," she said, sounding a little hurt despite the grin across her wide pink lips.

"I'm sorry," I said, "however, I brought tribute."

"Coffee?"

"And donuts."

"You're forgiven."

I disrobed and we ate in bed, talking around bites of sprinkled donut and comparing our thoughts of the previous night. Tricia remembered every song from the theater, every joke Amanda had made, and exactly how many times I had failed to maintain any kind of respectable stamina with her.

"I consider it flattering, really," she said. "Besides, you were able to get me off rather quickly every time. So don't look so wounded."

"I don't look wounded."

"You sound wounded."

"I sound like a man who has discovered his reputation was built on unstable ground," I stated, swallowing the last bits of my donut.

"Your reputation is fine." She set her coffee on the nightstand and reached beneath the sheet. "To confirm though, I may conduct another test, though."

Her small, warm hand found me, and the test quickly became practical rather than theoretical.

"I don't mean to sound indignant, but again? Are you up for that?" I asked as I hardened in her hand.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And now that we're fed and coffeed, we can move on to other things."

She turned towards me and moved between my legs, taking me into her mouth with a satisfied hum. Last nights exertions had done nothing to diminish her enthusiasm, which I was thankful for. She worked me slowly at first, pausing to lick a trace of sugar from her thumb before wrapping her lips around my cock again.

I lasted a little longer than I had during the night, though not by enough to restore my pride. Her blowjob was steady, efficient. She only went about a third of the way down, the head just touching the back of her throat, while her hand stroked and twisted the rest of me. She was intent on gettng me off, there was no other goal here. The bob of her head, the movements of her hand, and watching my cock disappear between those incredible lips got me ready in only about five minutes. I tried to hold off, tried to make the feeling last, but her skill and desire to see me get off were too much to take for long.

"God damn, Tricia, I'm going to cum already" I warned her. She pulled back and stroked me rapidly. The first shot erupted and splashed acrossed her cheek. The second landed over one eye, forcing her to close it, and the rest painted her face and lips. In total about a half dozen really solid ropes of cum decorated her round, smiling face. There rest of my orgasm squirted out over her stroking hand, coating it with a generous layer of cum.

Tricia froze with a look of exaggerated alarm.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "I can't see!"

I sat up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I get your eye?"

She held the expression for one more beat, then grinned like a predator.

"Oh, yea OK. Well played. Asshole" I muttered.

She laughed so hard she nearly fell sideways.

"That is terrible," I said, though I was laughing with her. "Just terrible."

"I thought it was excellent."

She swiped one finger along her cheek, scooped the cum into her mouth, and swallowed. Then she did it again, slowly cleaning her face. A dozen swipes of her fingers saw most of the cum gone from her face. After an audible gulp, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, showing the evidence was completely swallowed down.

"You taste surprisingly good after coffee and donuts," she said. "Perhaps this should be a regular breakfast item for me."

"I'm willing to make a hole in my schedulle," I told her. "For your health."

"Such devotion."

By the time we finished eating, the bed was covered in crumbs and the room smelled like coffee, sex, and naughty decisions. A shower an urgent requirement before anything else was to happen.

***

***

***

The shower in my bathroom was large enough for several people if those people were friendly (which we often are). Two people and it felt like a cavern. However, thankfully, Tricia and I were very friendly.

Steam filled the enclosure as she knelt under the spray, washing off the various fluids we'd worked into each other. We took turns under the steam nozzle, helping each other by getting backs and other hard to reach places. As I watched her rinse the soap from her form, desire took hold again like a bear trap I continue to get caught in. She was art given form, the perfect specimen of femininity and sensuousness. A body made for pleasure and for pleasing. It had been only twenty minutes since our last sexual act, but I was already back to hardness just watching her bath.

Turning around and rinsing her hair, her eyes fluttered open and saw me staring. Then she looked down and saw my excitement. She stared at it, continuing to rinse out her hair, taking her time as the suds made a highway between the significant valley of her G-cup breasts.

Once clean, she stepped out of the stream, sat me down on the little bench, and took me into her mouth again. Water ran over her ass and down her legs while her lips worked over my length. She licked me from base to tip, flicking the head with her tongue before plunging her mouth back down. She cupped my balls, squeezed gently, then drew back and pressed my cock between her breasts.

Her hands helped enclosed the soft weight of her tits around my shaft. She moved them together, raising and lowering her torso, letting the head appear between her breasts before hiding it again in her cleavage. Every few strokes she leaned down to circle the tip with her tongue, lapping up the pre-cum she was squeezing out from her tit job.

"This view is criminal," I told her.

"Perhaps we should get Amanda to describe it. You know, for evidence."

She increased her pace until I thought I was about to cum. Her tits working over my shaft were every bit as good as being buried in her pussy, or wrapped inside her lips. She slowed her pace to a carefully orchestrated rhythm only she was aware of. I could feel a surge, and a thick bead of cum gathered at the head, but my full orgasm didn't arrived. Tricia noticed it immediately. She leaned forward, caught the bead with her tongue, and swallowed.

"Almost," she said, keeping my cock firmly help between her tits.

"Very almost."

"Good. Save it if you can. I want the full eruption another way."

She stood, turned away from me, and placed both hands against the tile. Water traveled over the graceful line of her back and across her ass. She looked over one shoulder, the expression more felt than seen through the steam. She adjusted the nozzle so that it was spraying the wall instead her.

"Inside me, like this, right now," she said. "And don't be gentle just because it's morning."

I moved behind her and ran my hands over her hips. Reaching between her legs, she guided me into her, and we both groaned as I sank fully into her blazing hot sex.

I pulled out and pushed in a few times to ensure we were properly ready for the fucking I desperately wanted to give her. Tricia reached to the shower shelf and picked up the small cylinder vibrator we had brought in with us. She added lube from the bottle I always kept in the shower, then pressed it gently against her ass.

"How deep?" I asked.

"A little. At first, anyways."

She eased the rounded end in just far enough to make herself shiver. I began moving inside her, a little faster than at first, letting her set the depth and pace of the toy. Her manicured finger gently pushed the toy in and out of her ass, her eyes closed from the intensity of being violated in such a way.

"Harder," she said with authority.

I thrust more firmly. Slightly faster as well, pushing into her depths as much as possible with each thrust.

"No. Both," she clarified.

Her hand was cautious with the vibrator, stopping each time the sensation grew intense. I covered her hand with mine.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I'll tell you. Now do it. Make me feel it tomorrow."

I pushed her hand aside, took control of the vibrator, and pressed it deeper into her ass as I drove my cock into her pussy.

Tricia cried out, her palms sliding against the wet tile before she caught herself.

"Yes. Fuck, yes. Just like that. Feels amazing, so full. So fucking dirty and so fucking hot."

The change in her was immediate. She pushed back against every thrust, her round ass rippling as I thrust, demanding both sensations at once. I held the vibrator steady with one hand and caught a fistful of her wet hair with the other, drawing her head back as I fucked her harder.

"Oh, fuck Paul," she gasped. "Pull it. Harder."

I obeyed. She arched, offering her breasts to my free hand. I left the vibrator sunk in her and moved so I squeezed one roughly, rolling the nipple between my fingers until she cried out again.

Her first orgasm came only a few minutes later. She clenched around me, knees trembling, but demanded that I do not stop. I kept the vibrator pressed firmly inside her and drove through her spasms. My thickness spread her pussy wide, a layer of cream slicking the action, until another orgasm built almost on top of the first.

"Ohfuckingshityes," she called loudly, breasts bouncing and gyrating with her body spasms. Her hands pressing against the wall, as well as my hold on her hair were the only things that kept her from collapsing to the floor. "Put your hands around my neck and squeeze while I cum."

I released her hair and brought a hand around her throat, holding her securely while keeping the pressure light and controlled.

"Like this?"

"More. Yes. That's it. Yes!" she stared to scream. It turned into a gasp as my hand tightened around her throat. The absolute bliss on her face as she continued to cum was unmistakable.

Her body tightened from head to toe. She came with a broken cry, pressing back against me so forcefully that I nearly lost my footing. The vibrator, still buzzing in her ass so forcefully that I could feel it in her pussy, was pushed almost completely inside her. The sight and feel of her surrendering to it brought me to the edge. And then it pushed me over when she looked at me, eyes fluttering from the quality of her orgasm, smile even wider than I thought possible.

I pulled out just before I came.

Tricia turned and dropped to her knees in one quick movement, mouth open and waiting. The first shot crossed her cheek, but she adjusted perfectly. Taking my erupting member in both of her hands, she kept my orgasm peaking by stroking me in time with my spasms. The next two pulses went directly between her lips, landing on her outstretched tongue. She caught the rest of the cum with one hand while continuing to stroke me with the other.

When I finished, she held her mouth open to show me, moving her tongue slowly through what she had caught. She deposited what she collected in her hand, adding to the lake of cum in her mouth. Then she closed her lips and swallowed with an audible gulp, even over the noise of the shower.

"Good aim," she said.

We stood under the water and rinsed each other. She withdrew the vibrator and turned it off. I was still trying to catch my breath when a thread of concern worked its way through the afterglow.

"Was that too rough?" I asked. "The hair and the vibrator and..."

"Paul," she interrupted, turning toward me. "Doggy style is not for gentle lovemaking. It's a position to fuck fast and cum hard. And God damn, did I cum hard from that fucking you gave me."

"So we're good?"

"We... are spectacular. You feel even bigger from behind, especially when you go all caveman on me. So deep and thick. I don't think I've had my ass violated that well in... ever. It was unexpected and fun and unbelievably hot. Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

"Besides, I told you what I wanted. You listened. And we both came out satisfied. That's the important part."

We relaxed under the hot spray until the water began losing its enthusiasm, which took a while. Tricia leaned against me, her back to my chest, while I held her around the waist.

"Do you know how many times I've cum since the theater?" she asked.

"I lost count somewhere around Amanda's second kiss."

"Nine. Nine quality orgasms."

"You counted?"

"Of course I counted" she said. "It's a personal best. I usually find it difficult for me to come with men, and you seem to have found some sort of shortcut. And as I said, I have never cum so quickly before. And they were all wonderful."

"I'm glad you're please. However, nine is... untidy," I said. "How about we make it an even ten?"

She laughed. "The water's getting cold."

"Then we'd better hurry."

I turned her toward the wall and bent her forward again. She gave a delighted gasp when I pushed back into her, still slick and sensitive from everything we had done. I was only half masted when I started to work in her, but it was enough to make her moan from my intrusion.

"You were serious," she said.

"I take math very seriously."

This time there was no toy and no slow beginning. I held her hips and fucked her standing beneath the cooling spray. She reached back to dig her nails into my ass, pulling me deeper with every thrust.

I wrapped one arm around her waist and took her breast in my other hand, squeezing and pinching the nipple the way she taught me she liked. Her breathing sharpened. Her head fell back against my shoulder.

"That's it," she panted. "Such an attentive lover. Fucking me so well and deeply. Make me cum again. Fuck, yes! Make it ten and I'll be sure to give you something nasty and hot on our next date."

I bit her shoulder, perhaps harder than I intended, and drove my cock into her harder. She came with a cry that echoed off the tile, her pussy gripping me in rapid pulses. I was burying myself as deeply as I could but it would take a monumental effort for me to cum again so soon after the last one.

For several seconds we remained braced against the wall, holding each other upright.

"There you go, ten," I whispered.

"Ten," she agreed, laughing breathlessly. "But ten of the best I've ever had. Thank you."

We eventually managed to finish the shower for its original purpose. Afterward, we found our clothes, though locating Tricia's dress required a search of both the bedroom and the hallway as i wasn't really sure where we tore it off at. She dressed while I straightened the room enough that it no longer looked like the site of a small yet enthusiastic hurricane.

The photograph strip from the night before was still safe in my jacket pocket. I handed it to Tricia. She held it close to her face, studying the little images again.

"You keep it," she said, returning it to me. "Memories of a wonderful, incredible night."

The drive to her apartment was quiet in the comfortable way, with Tricia's hand resting on my thigh and the radio low. She was sitting close to me on the bench seat of the Green Goblin, my arm around her shoulders. Morning traffic moved reluctantly through the wet streets but we weren't in a hurry. When I parked outside her building, neither of us made any effort to leave the car.

"So," I said, "about that second date."

"I haven't decided." Her stare was humorous, but only barely contained.

"Really?"

"There was dinner, dancing, a show, and ten unbelievable orgasms. It was... adequate."

"Adequate?"

"Very adequate."

I leaned across the console and kissed her. She caught my neck and kept me there, turning a goodbye kiss into something much less efficient and much more passionate.

"You know," I said when we separated, "ten is only a useful number because it's even. Eleven has its own charm. Prime number and all that."

"Do you have a plan, or are you just campaigning for another date?"

I answered by getting out, walking around the car, and opening her door. She took my hand, expecting help onto the sidewalk. Instead, I guided her to turn sideways in the bench seat, laid her back a bit and eased the hem of her dress up her thighs.

"Paul," she whispered, startled and amused. "We're parked on a public street."

"Then you'll have to be quiet," I said, confirming the street was empty. It was still early and everyone was either at work or in their homes.

"You know I can't do that," she said. "Not with what you do to me."

"A challenge for both of us, then."

I knelt between the open door and the car, mostly hidden from the street, and put my mouth on her. The thought of such a risky encounter was exciting for her apparently. Tricia gripped the seat with one hand and my hair with the other. She was already wet from the ride and everything that had happened before it. I licked her slowly at first, then used the short, firm strokes she had taught me at the theater and in my bed. My tongue worked firmly and quickly on her clit, my index finger stroking her g-spot with small, hard pushes.

Her attempt at silence lasted less than a minute.

"Oh, you wicked, dirty man," she breathed. "Right there. Don't stop. Don't you fucking dare stop fingering my pussy."

I added another finger, curling them inside her while my tongue worked her clit steadily. Her thighs tightened around my head, cutting off sound as she covered my ears. The hand in my hair pulled painfully, keeping me exactly where she wanted me.

Her orgasm arrived hard enough that she lost any concern for who might hear. She cried out and flooded my hand, her body shaking against the seat while I continued until she pushed my head away.

"OH MY GOD PAUL THATS FUCKING IT YES!" Tricia cried loudly. It was muffed slightly by my car, but only slightly. She came down in a few moments, breathing deep and ragged, and I pulled my fingers and mouth away from her.

I stood, wiped my mouth of her orgasm, and offered her my hand with exaggerated formality.

"Sorry," I said. "I guess you're going to have to be satisfied with an even eleven orgasms."

Tricia took my hand and rose carefully from the car. Her legs were not entirely steady, which I accepted as an excellent review. Her dress was still higher than normal but covered her modesty. She didn't bother to pull it down.

"I'll survive," she said. "Barely, but I'll survive."

I walked her to the entrance, her arm looped in mine. She found the door, then turned and touched my face the way she had at the theater.

"Next Friday," she said matter of factly.

"Is that a question?"

"No. Pick me up at seven."

"Anything particular you'd like to do?"

Her fingers moved down to collar and pulled me closer.

"Surprise me," she said, kissing me once. "You've done well so far. But I do have one demand."

"What's that," I asked, my hand going to her hip.

She pulled me down and put her mouth right next to my ear, breathing her demand. "Twelve."

She pulled away and disappeared into the building, leaving me on the sidewalk with a ridiculous smile and the satisfying guarantee of another date with Tricia.