Darkroom... College girls plan to appreciate guys in the dark (Complete)

Dane Stalling · Jan 23, 2020

Monday

Steve came home from a sociology class to a general uproar Friday afternoon.

"Have you heard about it?" Justin said as Steve put down his backpack.

"What? Did someone run us out of milk again?" Steve joked.

"Just read this," Anthony ordered. "Read it off my screen."

The email had been sent anonymously, but specifically to the guys that shared the house- Steve, Anthony, Gabe, Justin, and Dieter. Steve read with mounting astonishment.

----

You guys have really gotten our attention. We're a group of five girls that share a house and we're students like you. We've had kind of a frustrating time fitting in- we've each tried sororities and just didn't like all the drama. We'd like to get to know you. We all met on a photo shoot at the University where one of us is a photographer. We have a problem though. We've all had painful experiences with boyfriends. We'd like to stay in control of our relationships, for a little while anyway. So we've done quite a bit of research on you five. Truthfully, we've been stalking you. We hope you'll forgive us. We really like what we see. You're nice guys, you don't drink too much, you're all fantastically cute and you do really nice things for people. We want to appreciate you one by one just for being nice guys and we think you're all going to love this. Maybe we'll end up being friends- we think you'll like us too.

We're going to keep our names to ourselves for now. The girl we'll call "Monday" has chosen Steve to appreciate. She has observed him, for example, helping people with computer problems at the senior center, he helped a woman pick up her groceries when the bag ripped, and she saw him give back some extra change that a cashier had given him by mistake.

Here's how it's going to work. All five of you need to go down in your basement on Monday night at 9:00. I don't know if you know that it used to be a darkroom, and it is very well light proofed. Set up nine chairs- four on one side of the room for you boys and four on the other side of the room for us. Steve will need a chair in the middle. Make sure there isn't anything to trip on, and make sure the film closet is accessible and free of obstacles. Injuries will put a damper on our game. We want it absolutely dark. Close the door, turn out the lights and wait in the dark for us.

Steve, I hope you'll be okay with a very intimate thank you. If not, put a can of pest repellent outside your front door and you won't hear from any of us again. We hope you'll accept though, because Monday is really looking forward to this. She has some delicious surprises planned for you, and honestly, she's hot, she's smart, and you'd be a fool to pass her up.

We will all be in the room while Monday appreciates Steve, but it's unlikely that we'll say much. You will be free to talk, of course. Please let me emphasize that if we feel threatened in any way or if you turn on the lights or otherwise try to identify us, you won't hear from us again. You won't try that though.

Love,

Thursday, for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday

----

"Shit." was all Steve could think to say.

"You're going to do it, right? I think you should do it." said Dieter. "I'm a nice guy too. I want to be appreciated."

"What if they're all ugly, " said Gabe. "What if they're fat or they have issues?"

"Well," said Justin thoughtfully, "it's going to be dark, so I don't think how 'Monday' looks is going to be an issue for me. She's probably just going to kiss me or something. Just so long as she doesn't have bad breath."

"I like voluptuous women anyway," said Dieter. "You should do it."

A lively discussion followed, and the guys decided they could handle any eventuality (What if it's actually guys? What if they try to rob the house?)

"And Steve," Anthony added, "you need to tell us exactly what's happening."

"What? No!" Steve said, laughing. You'll all get your turns.

"And if you tell us what's going on," Gabe said, "then we'll have to do the same thing for you when it's our turn."

Steve thought about having to sit in the dark four more evenings, not being able to tell what was happening. "Okay. I'll tell you what's going on, but I reserve the right to keep things to myself if I think Monday is getting skittish."

"Agreed."

Justin said, "My video camera has a night mode. You think we should try to record this?"

"I don't think so," Anthony said, "If the girls bring a night vision camera, they'll know we're cheating and they'll evaporate. I'm willing to do this one exactly the way they say to. Just please keep us up on the details, Steve. We're going to be dying in there."

After dinner on Monday, Steve took a shower, and shaved. He didn't know what he was preparing for. What does a guy wear to get "appreciated", whatever that meant? Since it would be dark, so he settled on a t-shirt and shorts and flip flops. It tended to get warm in the basement.

At nine o'clock sharp, the guys took their places, Anthony, Gabe, Justin, and Dieter in the chairs on the side of the room furthest from the door and Steve in the chair in the middle. They turned out the light.

"Shit, it really is dark in here," Justin said, "I was kind of hoping there would be at least a little light."

Suddenly, they heard a woman laugh upstairs and she was joined by the others. The guys were straining to hear any clue about the girls.

"Looks like Monday's not a pest!"

"Shut up, Wednesday, I'm nervous enough as it is."

"That's her," said Dieter, "that one's your Monday, Steve."

Steve just took an enormous breath and let it out shakily. He had a pretty respectable hard-on in spite of his nerves, and he really didn't know if it was going to make things worse or better.

The girls were in the door. There was a slight shift in the way the air felt as five more people entered the dark room.

One of the girls said, "Hi guys, can you tell us where the chairs are so we don't fall down?"

All of the guys started talking at once. The girls laughed, but managed to find their chairs with only one banged shin.

Steve cleared his throat, "Monday? I'm over here. Can you follow my voice?"

A few light steps came directly to him, and he heard one of the other girls whisper from the wall, "What a sweetie!"

Steve could hear Monday breathing as she paused for a few moments. She set a small bag on the floor next to the chair, then he felt her hand bump into his shoulder. He tried to imagine what she would look like, but all he had was the feeling of her hand running across his neck and over to his other shoulder as she slowly walked around him, getting a feel for where he was.

"What's going on?" Anthony hissed. "You said you'd tell us."

"H-hold on a second." Steve said. "Monday, put your ear by my mouth, I want to ask you something."

He felt the girl bend down, her hair just touching his face. "We have a deal that we're each going to tell the other guys what's happening- if that's okay with you."

She thought for a moment, then whispered a barely audible "Yes."

"Okay, guys, uh, she pretty much just touched my shoulder, so calm down... and her hair smells fantastic."

There were some giggles and whispering from the girls' side of the room. They clearly hadn't thought of this plan, and it made things a little more daring for them.

"She's running her hands through my hair now, over my face, down my... whoops."

"What? What's she doing?"

"She just sat down on my lap. She's facing me and she has her hands on my chest. She hardly seems to weigh anything at all."

Dieter said a mild "Damn. They're probably all skinny" from the darkness.

Steve felt her hands run down his arms and take his hands.

"That was Dieter," Steve said, "he prefers to have his hands, uh, full."

Monday was raising Steve's hands, and put them on her shoulders. She was wearing the softest, thinnest angora sweater he had ever felt. She let go of his right hand and put her hand back on his shoulder and moved his hand and her hand at the same time. He got the idea that he was supposed to mimic her.

"I think she wants me to copy what she's doing. My hands are on her shoulders and she's wearing a really soft sweater."

Monday's hands travelled up to Steve's neck and tickled him out to the point of his chin. He copied her every move, feeling the heat from her skin on his fingertips. He followed her up her cheekbones, into her hair, which was straight and very soft and seemed to be very long. Steve imagined Monday's blond hair and he took a deep breath, hoping to breathe its scent again. Monday leaned forward, her hair touching Steve's face, and ran her hands slowly down his sides. Her waist felt thin and muscular to him and he was surprised to feel a couple of inches of bare skin between the sweater and what turned out to be a very short skirt. She was "showing" him exactly what she wanted, her hands resting on Steve's thighs. Suddenly her hands were gone and Steve was worried for a moment that this was all that would happen, then a fingertip touched his lips and tapped them a couple of times.

"Dude." one of the guys groaned in suspense. Steve realized that he had forgotten to tell the guys what was happening- and that Monday wanted him to.

"We just ran our hands up over each other's faces and down our sides and right now my hands are resting on her thighs. She shows me what she wants me to touch by touching me in the same way."

A couple more taps on his lips told Steve that he needed to elaborate.

"Uh, she has an amazing waist- strong and thin and there's a space between her sweater and the top of her skirt where I could feel her skin- It's a very thin material- I think it's silk. She's warm and smooth and I love the smell of her hair and she seems to be breathing a little faster..."

Steve stopped when Monday's finger touched his lips gently again. Then he felt her hands high up on his shoulders, then she dragged them lightly straight down his chest and rested one of her palms on each of his nipples.

"Seriously?" Steve breathed, and he got an impatient wiggle from Monday. He traced from Monday's shoulders to her breasts, and he only stopped when he felt her nipples pressing through the sweater to meet his palms. Steve felt a jolt through his dick when he realized she wasn't wearing anything under the sweater. She arched her back and pressed her soft flesh into his hands. She caressed his chest the way she wanted to be caressed and he copied her, running his thumbs gently over her nipples, pinching them just how she showed him, and finally pushing them together. She brought her hands down to his belly and stroked him with one hand. He felt a finger tap his lips.

"Monday's been teaching me how to play with her breasts. She's still wearing the sweater, but nothing underneath. She feels fantastic. She likes it when I run my thumbs over her nipples and pinch them a little. Her breasts are just the size of my hand. Her nipples are hard and I especially like the feel of them on my palms."

One of the girls in the dark said. "Lucky girl."

"I have my hand on her stomach. She's starting to breathe harder. She likes it when I tell you what's happening."

Monday's hands slipped under Steve's shirt and started to move up over the muscles of his stomach. Suddenly he felt another tap on his lips. He had stopped speaking.

"Monday is running her hands up my stomach... now she's circling my nipples with her fingernails... she pulled my shirt off completely... Now she's... Oh shit. Shit. She's licking my nipples- all over my chest, she has her hands in my hair and she's kissing me all over my chest. That feels incredible."

When Monday tapped Steve's lips, he stopped talking and mimicked her, putting his hands under her sweater. When he started circling her nipples, she allowed herself a little whine of pleasure. It sounded like she was biting her lip to keep from making more noise. He lifted the sweater over her head and dropped it to the floor. Then he buried his hands in her silky hair and bent down and kissed her gently between her breasts. He kissed again and again, finally licking her left nipple with a long, slow stroke of his tongue that brought an involuntary squeal out of her mouth. He licked her right nipple with the same long stroke and drew another squeal.

One of the girls muttered, "I thought she was supposed to be showing him the appreciation."

Monday let Steve pleasure her for a few moments struggling to stay quiet, then she suddenly placed her hands against Steve's head and gently pushed him away. She stood up and took a few steps to his side and put his hands on her hips so he could feel her panties as she pulled them off. Then she kneeled in front of him and tugged at his shorts until he got the idea and helped her get them off along with his boxers.

"She just let me feel her take her panties off, but she's still wearing the skirt. It feels great on her body. She took off my pants and my boxers. She's..." Steve broke off and inhaled sharply.

"What? What's she doing?"

"She's trailing her hair across my... my..." Steve's eyes rolled up in the blackness. The sensation of the fine, smooth hair slipping all over his hard-on was incredible. He tried to tell them, "...her hair is on my..." but the word wouldn't form on his tongue.

Monday shot up to his ear and whispered, "Your cock. My hair is trailing all over your cock." Steve's hair stood on end and his cock zinged with the word coming out of her mouth.

Everyone heard it. "Damn, girl" one of the girls moaned in admiration "Sounds like that handjob and nothing else plan is out the window." There were sighs of frustration from the guys.

Then, with no warning, Steve felt his cock completely enveloped by Monday's mouth. He let out a strangled cry and curled his fingers into her hair. "Can't take it. You have to stop or I'm going to..."

And to his surprise, she did stop, but she finished his sentence, "...or you're going to come on my hair." Then she gave him one long lick on the head of his cock like he had done to her nipples He moaned and she giggled. She stood up and sat on his knees and scooted up until until the little bit of hair she had between her legs was tickling the base of Steve's erection. Monday grabbed Steve's cock with her hand and rubbed it against her pussy lips. Then she touched Steve's lips with her finger.

"You expect me to talk after that? Monday just sucked my whole cock into her mouth and almost made me come, uh, in her hair and now she's sitting on my lap again, rubbing my cock against her... her..."

Monday leaned up by his ear again and whispered, "My pussy. I'm rubbing your cock against my pussy."

"...her pussy." And then Steve touched Monday's head with his hand and whispered so only she could hear. "You want this, right?" Monday nodded and he could feel it. Then she kissed him hard on the lips, her hair falling across both their faces. While their lips were still locked, she raised up and impaled herself on Steve's cock.

She sat still and breathed hard, then she started to rock forwards and backwards very slowly. Monday pinched one of Steve's nipples and he took the hint and raised his hands to her breasts and started kneading them slowly. Every time he pinched her nipples, she rewarded him with a firm squeeze from her pussy. As their rhythm picked up, Monday hit Steve's shoulder with her fist. It didn't hurt, but it surprised him and he jerked involuntarily. Monday hissed. This was what she was looking for. She pounded again and Steve responded again with a thrust. Soon Monday was pounding his shoulder and he was pounding her pussy back.

Monday was losing control of her moans and started whispering desperately in Steve's ear. "Yesyesyes You're... making... my... pussy... feel... so... fucking... gooooood... Keep on doing that. YES!" Then she shocked Steve with a breathless request. "Mark me." It was so quiet, he knew the others didn't hear. "Mark me please. I want you to mark me."

Steve leaned up to Monday's naked right shoulder, just below the bottom of her neck and bit gently. Their movements slowed a little, but became more intense.

"Yesss. That's it. Harder." Monday squeezed hard with her pussy.

Steve's teeth dug in a little deeper and Monday's hands flew to his head and clenched fists full of hair.

"HARDER!" and Steve bit down in surprise. Monday screamed and climaxed just a fraction of a second before he did. Monday's breaths were coming in grunts as she rode the crest of her orgasm and Steve came with her in shuddering thrusts.

As their breathing slowed Monday slumped against Steve's chest, still squeezing his cock with her pussy every few seconds, Steve became aware of clipped cries and rustlings from both sides of the room. He hadn't narrated that last part. He was glad he hadn't needed to.

While the sounds around them died down, Monday whispered, still a little breathlessly, in his ear, "I get to talk to you alone for a little bit. Take me to the film closet."

They went a few steps to the closet and closed the door.

Monday started, still whispering, "I'm not allowed to tell you my name yet- the others made me promise. I'm not allowed to give you anything and I'm not allowed to take anything from you."

"That's why you wanted a mark?" Steve ventured.

"Mmm. Smart men make me hot. Yes."

"Did I hurt you?"

"I don't think you even broke the skin. I loved it. Here. I'm only bending the rules a little if I give you this..."

Steve heard Monday feeling for something in her bag. She took his left arm and felt a chilly spray on his wrist. The closet filled with the scent Monday had put in her hair.

"Tonight has been in appreciation to you, for being a very, very nice guy. I have to tell you though, you made me feel profoundly appreciated too. I'm going to go with the girls now. I'll be here again for Tuesday. Sit furthest from the door."

With that, and a kiss on the lips in the absolute dark, Monday left the closet, collected her clothes, and left the darkroom with the other girls. The guys waited, caught up in their own thoughts for five minutes or so, to allow the girls to guard their identities, and turned on the lights.

Dane Stalling · Jan 25, 2020

Tuesday

The email didn't come in until one o'clock, but the guys had been taking turns monitoring their inboxes, so they all went running for their computers when Justin yelled.

This one was like the last one, addressed to all five of them by name.

Hi Anthony, Steve, Gabe, Dieter, and Justin,

Well boys, we think last night was a smashing success, even though it went quite a bit beyond the original plan. I trust nobody is complaining on your end. Monday 's face has been glowing all morning and Tuesday has been revising her plans a little. The rest of us are a pretty jealous because it's her turn tonight. We've had a lot to talk about. None of us slept very well, mostly because last night's appreciation left us, frankly, horny as hell. Even Monday.

Tuesday is going to appreciate Gabe. She has been watching him for quite some time and noticed that he will switch shifts with that very unpleasant old man at work whenever he needs to go to dialysis. He donates blood every two months, and when he leaves a table at a restaurant, he makes sure there's a decent tip, even if he's with a group and he ends up out a few dollars. Tuesday feels safe enough to let you know that she benefitted from that very good habit on one occasion. We mentioned that we've basically been stalking you. We have also noticed that you have all done something nice already today- Dieter donated shoes to the homeless shelter (he was waiting when the doors opened), Gabe was at the blood bank, Justin read stories to kids at the library, Anthony gave two dollars to a homeless woman (Confession time- it was Thursday in disguise! She passed it on to a real homeless woman) and even Steve, who already received his appreciation, signed up to teach English to immigrants. We think he'll discover that was a very good move.

Tuesday wants Gabe to be thinking of anything he wants in particular. He can tell her tonight if anything at all comes to mind.

So we're changing the world one nice guy at a time. We wondered what would happen if all the nice girls appreciated all the nice guys? Just so you know, we each volunteer at different places, but we've decided not to go into details right now. We're not worried about you guys, you were perfect gentlemen last night, but we're honestly enjoying the little game and we want it to go on.

So, set up the room the same way as last night (we apologize for not helping to clean up, I'm afraid some of us made a mess). This time though, Tuesday tells me, it would make things easier if there were a large rug or a piece of carpet on the floor.

We'll meet you in the dark tonight at 9:00. You have no idea how much we're looking forward to it.

Love,

Thursday, for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday

Gabe's face was white and his brown eyes kept reading the text over and over.

"Lucky bastard" Justin complained.

"We're all lucky bastards," Steve said fervently, "this kind of shit just doesn't happen."

"My mother told me I should do good," Justin mused, "I don't think she had this in mind when she said what goes around comes around."

"I'll get the basement ready," Steve volunteered. The guys had stumbled numbly to bed the night before without doing any cleaning at all. "Do any of you guys have a rug we can use?"

Nobody answered right away, but Anthony had an idea. "Look, no matter how tacky you think this is, the right rug would be a deep pile shag rug. Where can we get one of those?"

"Thrift store?" Justin said, "I'll check the one by the school and Dieter, why don't you go over to the one across from the park. It won't hurt if we both find one."

Just before dinner, Gabe came in the door dragging a large rolled rug wrapped in plastic behind him.

Dieter said, "Hey, I already got a rug, but Anthony came up empty."

"I know," Gabe said, "but I figured a thrift store rug would send the wrong message."

"What did you get?" asked Steve.

Gabe unrolled a black fur rug.

"It's alpaca. Actually, it's a bedspread, but we can put Dieter's rug under it for padding." Gabe looked at it thoughtfully.

Anthony ran his hand across the fur. "How much did this cost you? it feels expensive."

Gabe mumbled, "About $800. It's not the skin- it's just made from the fur. I don't know how the girls feel about fuzzy animals."

"Damn." Justin said.

"Look, Steve said they can't take anything from us," Gabe said, "and I thought that if there was anything I'm willing to go into debt for, it's this."

"There's just one thing I want to know," said Justin, "Can this be dry cleaned?"

Gabe punched Justin's shoulder, outraged. Then he said, "Yep. I checked."

----

9:00 that evening found Gabe sitting on a chair in the dark on the most outrageously expensive rug he'd ever touched. He was barefoot and wearing shorts and a short sleeved button down cotton shirt.

Steve made sure he was sitting where Monday had told him to, furthest from the door. He thought she would probably do the same.

The girls showed up. Gabe could hear them chatting as they came down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, one of them said, "Hi guys. Hi Gabe. We know where we're going, but Tuesday needs to find you."

Gabe swallowed. "I'm over here. Sitting on my chair. Being good."

"Being very good," one of the girls said, "This rug is going to pay for itself I think."

Gabe sensed a woman standing in front of him.

"I'm Tuesday," she said quietly, and it sounded like she was smiling. "And you have outdone yourself. I expected perhaps something from the thrift store for the floor. A nice shag carpet, maybe, but what kind of fur is this? It makes my feet horny." But she didn't wait for an answer. Tuesday grabbed Gabe's hand and had him stand up. Tuesday hugged him tenderly and he hugged her back, noticing that her blouse was cut all the way down to the bottom of her back. Gabe traced his fingers along the edges of the fabric, enjoying the smooth, soft feel of her skin.

"Okay, that's a whole lot of silence and no report," one of the guys said impatiently. "Give us something."

"Something juicy," one of the girls added.

"I'm holding her and touching her back. She's wearing some sort of slippery blouse that's open in the back. She's hugging me- nothing juicy."

"I'm going to fix that" she said into his neck and she rose up on her toes and kissed him. She slid her tongue in and tickled the roof of his mouth, then she sucked in his lower lip and let it pop out noisily.

"That sounded juicy," one of the girls said.

Then Tuesday ran her hand along the front of his shorts to feel his erection. She whispered, "Tell them this makes me juicy."

Gabe tingled, and impulsively slid his hands down to feel Tuesday's ass. He pulled her so close she ground into his hard cock.

"Tuesday kissed me and she wants me to tell you that my cock, which she keeps on rubbing quite excitingly through my shorts, is making her, uh, 'juicy'."

Tuesday whispered, "So. What is it you particularly want?"

Gabe had been debating whether to ask the question- he didn't want to seem like he was inexperienced, but he decided to swallow his pride and go for it. "Last night, when Steve and Monday were here, she was teaching him things she liked and I thought that was pretty fucking hot."

"I thought it was pretty fucking hot too," said Tuesday, "I hope you learned something too. What is it that you want me to teach you?"

"Um. Can you come closer?" Gabe waited until he felt her face near his. He whispered, "Cunnilingus. I don't know how to do it. I mean, I've never had the opportunity..."

"That," Tuesday cut him off, "is a very wise thing to learn. And to pretend you don't know after you've learned so you can learn again." She hissed at the girls, "We really like to teach boys pussy licking, don't we girls?"

There was enthusiastic affirmation from their side of the room.

"And after I teach pussy licking," she whispered in his ear, "I like to pretend I've forgotten something that you can teach me. Now the first thing about pussy licking is I want to be naked and you want to be naked, so can you help me out with this? You might touch things that make me feel nice."

Gabe didn't argue. He slipped the blouse off her shoulders and ran his hands over Tuesday's breasts. He bent down and licked her nipples gently, and then a little harder as she responded. "Am I doing it right?" he said, grinning, "Am I making your pussy feel good?"

"You're doing it completely wrong. Don't you dare stop."

"I'm so confused man," one of the guys whined, "talk to us."

Gabe paused for a moment and whispered, "So, do you want me to tell them what's going on or do you want me to keep licking your nipples?"

Tuesday shook with pleasure. "I'm... I'm going to tell you so he can keep... SHIT that feels good. He took my top off and he's licking my tits. He's a complete artist. He's the Van Gogh of tit licking. Oooooh. Damn. Do that again. He was just biting... Ohhhhh. His hand is moving up the inside of my thigh. He's about to discover I'm... not... wearing..."

----

Monday was waiting in the dark for this moment- she knew everyone would be involved in trying to decipher the action, and she had separated her chair a little from the others so she wouldn't be missed. She dropped to the floor and crawled to the back wall and followed it across the room to where she had told Steve to sit tonight. Her hand touched a foot, and she fervently hoped it was Steve's.

Steve felt the touch on his foot, and leaned forward to catch the aroma of Monday's hair. He had been anticipating this moment ever since she had walked out of the basement last night.

Monday found Steve's hand and tugged at it gently and he followed her on his hands and knees to the middle of the back wall where they both sat with their backs against it. She needed to be as far away from everyone as possible. Everyone was straining their ears in the darkness to know what was going on, and a stray conversation would be picked up right away.

Monday leaned into Steve and gave him a silent, intense kiss. "I can't stop thinking of you," she breathed. She put her finger on his lips to keep him from speaking, "I'm going to meet you tomorrow. It's against the rules."

Steve reached over and pressed Monday's breast through her dress. "Yessss," she whispered, "but not now. Tomorrow go to the mall. Get a 15 minute massage at the kiosk in the mall concourse. Trust me."

In spite of what Monday had said, Steve kept teasing her breasts. She touched the back of his hand lightly as he caressed her. Then she leaned into him again. "Kiss me where you bit me last night." Steve turned to face her and kissed her right shoulder just at the base of her neck. She sighed, kissed the top of his head and was gone.

----

Tuesday unbuttoned Gabe's shirt and fumbled with his shorts just as he found that her skirt was fastened only with a couple of snaps and removed it. He helped her get the rest of his clothes off and they fell on the rug, kissing passionately.

"I want you to do it like they did." Gabe gasped into Tuesday's ear.

"What?" she managed.

"Like Steve and Monday. Silently, without talking. Teach me to lick your pussy without talking."

"Okay then. You pay close attention. I'm about to lick your pussy." Before Gabe could ask what she meant, Tuesday knelt to the side of Gabe's head and ran a finger gently along his lips. She kissed him sideways and started licking his lips that way, her tongue soft against him. She made long, deliberate strokes that awakened every nerve in his mouth.

Gabe was just processing what she had said through a fog of nibbles and licks. She was licking his pussy? Just as it clicked with him, she stopped and threw a knee over his head so she was straddling his face. "Guys, you should probably know that I just showed Gabe how I like my pussy licked by licking his lips. He's about to start and I just want you to know we're not going to be talking to you for a while. Don't interrupt us or I will personally... Ahhhhh... Damn Gabe, you're a fast learner!"

Gabe smacked her ass to remind her that she was supposed to be silent, and she got the message. He threw himself into his task wholeheartedly. She was shaven smooth and she had a clean taste, distinctive and pleasant. He tried his best to do exactly as she had, keeping his tongue soft and making long strokes that ended with light touches on her clitoris.

Tuesday hummed with pleasure for a few minutes, then to Gabe's frustration, she moved to the side of his head again and kissed him sideways. "Am I yummy?" she whispered into his mouth. Gabe nodded silently as she licked his mouth a couple of times like she had before, then she slipped a finger into his mouth as she continued licking his lips. He felt Tuesday's finger bend and the tip touched a spot a little way back on the inside of his check. "I've been really turned on for twenty four hours and I'm really close. If you do that right," she whispered in his ear, "You'll make me come."

Tuesday lay down on her back so Gabe could practice what he had just learned. He rolled over her, giving her a couple of deliberate licks before inserting his index finger into her pussy. He enjoyed the texture of her pussy with his finger for a little while, then he carefully bent it so he was touching what he hoped was the spot Tuesday had tried to show him.

He got it exactly right. Immediately, Tuesday started to writhe and moan. Gabe sped up to match the pitch of her excitement. He'd never had so much fun. He decided to improvise a little and put another finger in Tuesday's pussy. He pressed hard with both fingers.

"I didn't tell you to... SHIIT! AHHHH!" The orgasm surprised Tuesday almost as much as it surprised Gabe. He found himself struggling to keep his tongue in contact with her flesh as she bucked and wiggled. He could feel powerful contractions around his fingers, each punctuated by a delighted squeal.

Gabe vaguely heard cheering and applause as he finally turned over and rested his head against Tuesday's sweaty thigh. Her smell was intoxicating.

It took Tuesday a few minutes to come down from the orgasm and just as her breathing was approaching normal she was surprised to hear Gabe say, "I want to do that again."

"Smart boys make me so hot" one of the other girls murmured from the darkness.

Tuesday laughed between gasps for air. "If you did that to me again right now, I'd shatter into a thousand deliriously happy pieces."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Gabe moved up and buried his tongue in Tuesday's navel and made her start squirming again. "Can you come just from me licking your belly button?"

"Mmmm. I don't even know what you can't make me do right now. And don't think I don't want you to try, but I was all looking forward to getting my mouth full of your cock, you know, to show you my appreciation."

Gabe said, "If you touch me anywhere near my cock I'm going to have an ejaculation so premature I'll have come last month."

"I can handle that. Just trust me," Tuesday said.

Gabe felt her move down his body and she grasped his cock just under the head and squeezed hard. "This is called the Tuesday Squeeze. I didn't invent it, but I'm the one doing it right now, so I call it what I want."

Gabe gurgled a little. Tuesday was right. She did know how to handle that. When she let go, he had a well controlled half-erection.

Tuesday positioned herself between his legs and gave his penis a long lick. "What's your blowjob of choice then? How do you like it?"

Gabe honestly didn't know. "I've, um, never actually had a girl..."

There were murmurs from around them in the darkness. One of the girls was outraged, "Gabe, that's a crime and Tuesday is precisely the girl you want kneeling in front of you right now."

Gabe laughed, "You know that restaurant where the cook knows what you want better than you know yourself?" He said, "That's the restaurant I'm in."

"Okay." Tuesday murmured, "This is about to become your favorite kind of blowjob."

Tuesday started with just her lips nibbling the tip of his cock. Then she swirled her tongue around the head, softly, the tip of her tongue flicking him. She sucked slightly and slid her lips further down Gabe's shaft. He felt like he was going to explode. She squeezed him again, but she knew it wouldn't be long. She had only bobbed up and down a few times when she felt him about to come. She could tell he was trying to warn her but his words were coming out garbled- always the gentleman. She sped up and scratched his balls with her fingernails. He came in her mouth explosively, grunting and thrusting, all reason completely forgotten. Tuesday kept up with him, swallowing almost all of his come.

Gabe gasped for air. He didn't feel like he was in the dark. He felt like he was in a bright room on a sunny day with a beautiful girl. "Tuesday, you made my lights go on," He gasped.

He could hear the pride in Tuesday's voice, "You should see what I can do when I can work on you for a couple of hours."

"I think I would shatter into a thousand deliriously happy pieces."

Tuesday stroked Gabe's thigh. "Take me to the film closet with me so we can talk privately a little" Tuesday said when it sounded like Gabe might be able to stand again.

In the closet, Tuesday sounded suddenly earnest. "Gabe, I hope I didn't embarrass you in front of your friends- some guys get mean..."

"Are you kidding?" Gabe laughed, "I'm completely absolved. Besides, if I hadn't confessed my ignorance, I would have had to bumble around, pretending. You would have known I was winging it and that's more humiliating than just admitting it."

"I've never been so thoroughly eaten out. You win," Tuesday purred. "So, did I completely wear you out out there?" Tuesday had moved in close. She hugged Gabe tenderly and ran her fingers up the erection she knew she would find. "Because it would make me feel better if I could remove all doubt about your prowess from your friends' minds."

"Are you suggesting..."

"You can tell them I jumped you because I couldn't control myself. Because that's what's about to happen." Tuesday smoothly snaked one of her legs around Gabe's waist and slipped his cock into her pussy. He felt almost like she was sucking him into herself.

"I'm going to tell them," Gabe smiled and thrust into Tuesday hard, "that you were faking. That you banged the walls and screamed but nothing happened."

"You won't be able to tell such a.. Nnnnnn... despicable lie," She said, grinding into Gabe and squeezing his cock with her pussy, "if they hear you screaming when you come. And to make that happen I need you underneath me."

Tuesday did something that felt like a martial arts maneuver and Gabe found himself suddenly on his back with the wind knocked out of him in the dark of the tiny room. Tuesday had already impaled herself on him again.

"Fuck me," she said, starting to ride him. Then, more loudly, "Fuck me!"

Gabe started to thrust in earnest. The desire of the woman he was pounding was driving his own desire.

"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Tuesday got louder every time she said it, every time the base of Gabe's cock mashed her clitoris. Then she said something quietly, "Damn, I wish there were some furniture to knock over in here. I want GLASS to BREAK! I WANT NOISE!"

Gabe grunted in spite of himself.

"Fuck Me! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" Tuesday chanted with every pound.

Gabe growled, his words broken by the effort of thrusting "Take it... you proud... delicious... conFECTION!"

Tuesday sweetened. "Oh listen to your pretty fucking vocabulary. You ELOQUENT... SWEET COCKED... PUSSY POUNDER! Ohhhhh, FUCK ME!"

"I'm going to give you SHIVERS. I'm going to make you SCREAM! Come on! Pinch my COCK with your EXQUISITE VELVET PUSSY!"

A long squeal tore itself from Tuesday's throat as Gabe pinched her nipples and pulled. Her pussy was liquid fire and Gabe felt something wild struggling out of somewhere deep in his chest. She started to come and her squeal turned into a full blown scream. Gabe roared from his core along with Tuesday's scream as he climaxed.

They laughed, exhausted as they came down. They could hear more cheering from the other room, muffled through the door. Tuesday giggled. "That should do something for your reputation."

Gabe ran his fingers through Tuesday's hair as she laid on his chest, recovering. "I have no idea what you look like, but you could never be anything but beautiful to me."

"Really? What if I actually look like Eleanor Roosevelt or Queen Victoria?"

"Doesn't matter. I'd just start thinking wrinkled pug faced women were hot." Gabe said.

"Maybe I shouldn't say this..." Tuesday paused, thinking. "I might not look like you expect me to."

"I've liked every single one of your surprises so far. Give me a chance."

Tuesday kissed him on the lips. "Okay. Next week." And she left the room.

Dane Stalling · Jan 26, 2020

Wednesday

Steve arrived at the mall about half an hour after it opened. Monday hadn't told him what time to be there, and he didn't feel like waiting. She had said she was going to break the rules, and he fervently hoped she wanted to break them thoroughly. He was skipping his physics class for this meeting. The massage kiosk was near one of the ends of the mall. Steve had always wondered who would want to get a massage with all those people walking around them. He walked up to the only person there, a tough looking middle-aged Chinese man.

"Are you the only one that does massages here?" Steve asked.

"I'm the only one. Take a seat."

Steve sat down and put his face in the ring. He had fantasized about what might happen in his head all night, and none of his fantasies included intimidating Chinese men. He swallowed his disappointment and tried to relax as the masseuse's large knuckle found a sore spot in his back to torture.

It was only two minutes later that the masseuse disappeared and a smaller hand pressed against the back of his head.

"Don't turn around." Steve had never heard Monday's voice properly. Most of the time he'd been with her she was either whispering or screaming in ecstasy. "I'm going to explain what's going on, but you need to keep your face in the ring."

"You realize that's about the worst think you could tell me right now, right?"

"Yes, I know," Monday said. Her voice had a quality he was drawn to- there was strength in it, and intelligence. "I changed my mind. I was going to let you see me today but I got an idea that is going to be... better. In a lot of ways. Unless, of course, I can make you come in your pants right now." This last was purred into his ear and got him well on his way to doing just that.

She ran her fingernails gently across his scalp and started massaging his neck. Her touch was probably less therapeutic than the Chinese man's, but it made Steve feel a hell of a lot better.

"I have to ask you something about Dieter. Can you help me out a little? The girls don't know I'm doing this."

Steve was surprised. He thought the girls were omniscient. They knew almost everything about him and his friends. "I'll try. Sounds weird though."

"It is kind of weird. I'll tell you a little if I need to. Can you tell me if Dieter hates anyone?"

"I don't think so. Dieter's a teddy bear. With huge muscles. I don't think there's anyone he hates. Wait- I have heard him complaining about French girls. I think he went out with one once and he never felt good enough for her. She wanted it that way. He probably thinks they're all like that."

"Hm. That's interesting." Monday had moved down to Steve's shoulders and was working the muscles with her thumbs.

"Why? Is there some sort of French-in-the-dark lesson in his future?" Steve wondered.

"No. Not exactly. She does speak French though, and her English has a slight French accent. That's not really what I'm getting at. He's not..." Monday searched for the right words, "He's not biased or racist, right? I mean, we could kind of get a bead on the rest of you guys, but Dieter has turned out to be kind of opaque that way."

"So she's not white and you're concerned that he's going to freak out?"

Monday sat down on the seat behind Steve and leaned her head against his back. He could smell her hair. "We're all taking similar risks with you guys- you could reject us after we've been extremely vulnerable with you. It's just more pronounced and dangerous with Dieter's girl. I hadn't actually planned to screw you- I just did because I liked you and we were having so much fun and that's a problem because she's different from him in a lot of ways, and she's a virgin. She's not a prude, ironically, she didn't realize it was going to go that far or she would have balked. She's my friend and I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Steve thought for a moment. "Here's what I think. You girls are imaginative and you could probably figure out seven ways to make a guy come with a cotton ball and chopsticks. If actual penetration is the only thing she refuses to do on his night, I'm sure she'll think of something that will make him feel, uh, appreciated. As for the race issue, that's not going to be a problem. He doesn't skip pages in his Swimsuit Edition. Hell, if he's anything like me, he'd probably bust a nut if the Nordic girl in his head turned out to be a Navaho."

"Well, I'm really glad to hear that," Monday said, "That will make things go so much more... smoothly."

She put her arms around his waist and just held him, her head against his back. He tried to see her arms, but he couldn't move his head down at all.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?" Monday asked.

"Anything."

"Tell me what I look like to you. Don't give me a speech about inner beauty. You already know me like that. I want to hear you tell me your guesses. Start with my hair."

Monday's fingers were back in Steve's hair, making his mind fuzzy. "You're blond. Not dyed or platinum. An honest silky blond with slightly darker streaks. Your hair blows easily in the wind"

"I sure blew you easily." Monday slid a hand around and flicked his nipple with her finger. "My eyes. What about them?"

"Hazel. Your look is honest and direct, even when what you want makes you nervous."

"I like that, Steve." She unbuttoned a single button on his shirt and slid her hand against the skin of his chest and tickled gently. "Tell me about my skin."

"It's lightly freckled and prone to blushing. You used to try to cover that up, but you found that other people found it attractive, so you decided to find it attractive too. There's something else about your skin I can't match up- my fingers feel something more. Something exciting and different. Something I can't quite describe."

"Yes," Monday murmured, "you have excellent fingers. You'll forgive me if, instead of telling you how accurate you are, I tell you something I've never seen that I can guess about you." She slid her hands down to the crotch of his jeans and tickled him through the fabric. "Your balls, I imagine, are a fetching shade of blue. Don't worry though, they won't stay that way."

Then she squeezed him suddenly around the middle and said, "The proverbial nuts are going to be busting left and right. I really need to go now. Please give me a few minutes. I don't want you to ruin my evil scheme."

Steve groaned when he felt her leave and called "Goodbye" pathetically, still looking at the floor. Almost immediately there was another much less pleasant presence at his ear.

"I know pressure points." It was the masseuse, back again and growling coldly in Steve's ear.

"She paid for your fifteen minutes and an extra 25 bucks to tell you that if you ask any questions at all about her or if you take your face out of that ring in the next five minutes I get to make you unconscious. It's a technique I've always wanted an excuse to try. If it becomes necessary, she's going to give me another 25 to drag you out to the dumpsters, where you'll wake up in desperate need of muscle relaxants."

"I prefer the honor system myself," Steve said, "but she certainly can be persuasive if she wants to be." He tried to relax as the man's knuckle attacked another knot.

----

The email had already arrived when Steve got home, feeling surprisingly relaxed. The guys were all bending over Anthony's laptop on the dining room table, rereading it.

Hello Boys,

We sure are enjoying your hospitality. It has made some sparks in our house, as Thursday and Friday are, as I write, trying to convince Wednesday to swap places with them. There have been both threats and bribes offered but she's sticking to her guns. One girl even suggested splitting up and getting two of you appreciated in one night. She was shouted down and has been put on dish duty for the rest of the week.

Wednesday has chosen Justin to appreciate. She's been impressed with his courtesy, and I think she's a little smitten with that gentle Southern accent. It's been hard for her to pick just a few things to appreciate- Justin seems to ooze goodness (her words.) In particular, when he talks to women, he tries valiantly, and sometimes successfully to keep his eyes on their faces. (Don't get us wrong- we like being looked at, but we also like it when you try not to!) He donated a very pretty radio control airplane to the mentor program, and he lets all the Korean exchange students copy his notes in his modern art appreciation class. She says there's something about his painting that heals her.

Which brings us to tonight. We are all very impressed with Gabe's thoughtfulness with that delicious rug. We're all having fantasies about wriggling around on it naked like Tuesday got to. Tonight, although it's breaking our hearts, it's going to be best to keep it safely out of the basement. Bring in that shag rug instead.

Wednesday has a penchant for the dramatic, and, while we've toned it down a few notches, we're still going to need to get into the basement before you do tonight to set a few things up. You guys will need to go into your kitchen at 8:30 tonight and stay there- all of you together- until 9:00. We'll be waiting for you with goosebumps.

Love, Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday

Justin was intent on the email. "She must be in my Art Appreciation class. I can't remember a single one of the girls' faces."

"Maybe- or she is friends with the Koreans in your class or she knows the prof." Anthony said, "I kind of doubt she's actually in the class. She might be another art major though."

"Do you think she has big boobs?" Justin asked, "What she said about that makes me think she might."

Anthony grunted. "Again, maybe. A smaller breasted woman notices when your eyes leave her face for another woman's chest too. These girls are devilishly good at giving vague, tantalizing information."

The conversation went on like this for some time, and the guys pored over Monday's and Tuesday's emails as well. The fact that this last email was written by Monday, and not by Thursday was discussed at some length, but nothing concrete could be made of it.

Eight thirty came and the guys were sitting around the kitchen when they heard the front door open and close, the girls' feet descending into the basement, the basement door closing. They sat silent, listening breathlessly, hoping for some clue beyond the vague bumps and scrapes floating up from below.

"You okay, Justin?" Steve said, "You're looking a little green."

"Yeah, just nervous. What if she wants me to do something freaky? I don't really feel like I can say no."

Dieter snorted. "Go with it. I get the feeling whatever is up is tailored to you."

Justin listened to some vague bumps and a sudden muffled outburst of the girls' laughter from below. "I'm going to go with it. Whatever it is."

As the microwave's clock flipped over to nine, Anthony said, "Hey, let's show them we're eager."

Justin said, "How?" But he was too late. Anthony led a clattering charge down the hall, the other guys jostling each other on his heels. Justin brought up the rear, and he was the last one down the stairs and in the door.

They were met with shrieks of laughter from the girls. One of them shouted that the winner should get a prize.

"They all get a little prize tonight." Wednesday's voice had a wry edge to it, like she had a half smile when she talked. "You'll find a block of chocolate on your chair. It got kind of warm and melty, but I think it should get us started on the right foot. I put a wipe on your chair for when you're done. The girls didn't wait for you and gobbled theirs down before you came in. I thought it was very rude, but they couldn't be stopped."

"I'm going to give you your chocolate myself, Justin, if you can find me."

Justin moved forward cautiously, his hands in front of him. His right hand bumped into what was clearly Wednesday's breast. She captured his hand against herself and pressed against his body. Justin could feel that she was wearing a silky robe or dress.

Wednesday nuzzled into his neck and whispered to him, "I lied. I ate your chocolate too. Maybe you can get a little taste..." And she kissed him deeply, wrapping her arms around his back and grabbing his ass.

"That's good chocolate," Justin gasped.

Wednesday stepped back slightly, so only their hands were touching. "Yes, Listen, the girls know part of what's going to happen, but not all of it." Wednesday whispered conspiratorially. "I'm going to get a little revenge. They've been calling me 'Wednesday Addams' and, when they think I'm not listening, 'Hump Day.' Judging by the number of pillow cases in the laundry lately, it's 'Hump Week.'"

"I'm not sure I understand that last part..." Justin started.

"Oh baby, you will if you can go with the flow for me. For now, though, I need you to get more familiar with me. Use your hands for eyes. I have some qualities that are best appreciated blind. Just don't take any of my clothes off yet."

Justin placed his hands on Wednesday's hips and was surprised to feel her dancing, just barely, but definitely swaying to a slow groove he couldn't hear yet. He let his hands travel down her thighs where the silky garment gave out and he found himself caressing warm, smooth legs.

Wednesday hummed a little at the touch of his fingers on her skin. Justin felt for her face and felt it, a sleek face, he thought, with defined cheekbones and jawline. He ran his hands down her front, and the size of her breasts surprised him. "Wow," he breathed.

"I know," Wednesday said, wiggling her chest for him a little, "the dark adds a few sizes. Mmmm. Do that a little more."

"Can we get a little update, Justin?" one of the guys asked from the wall.

"Make 'em sweat a while," Wednesday whispered, "and don't be shy with me. I want to be royally felt up. In a minute I'm going to turn on the light, but you and I are going to be invisible."

"What? You're going to turn the light on?"

"Shut up and trust me. I changed the bulbs. And fucking get a hand down my pants. I've been waiting for you for days."

Justin ran his hand down her belly and found a way to slip his hand under the robe. He caressed the skin of her stomach, then pushed a hand down inside Wednesday's bikini bottoms.

"Ohh yes. Do you feel that? That's my pussy saying a big wet 'Hello.' Push it in a little more. Yesss. That feels incredible."

Justin could hear the breathing of his friends and the girls in the room changing. Everyone was getting pretty cranked up when Wednesday pulled Justin by the hand over next to the door.

"Okay, lights on, guys!" and she flipped the switch with a loud snap.

"Shit!" came from the guys side and there was some frantic scrambling before they realized that it was still dark, but their hands were glowing.

Justin found he was looking over at the girls' place when the ultraviolet bulbs came on. Some of them giggled. They thought the joke was on the guys. Their hands were glowing too, but it took them a while to notice it, since several of their hands were buried between their thighs. When they noticed, though there was a lot of covering up.

Wednesday giggled. "Hump Day's revenge!" Justin laughed with her.

The effect was dramatic. The bulbs were only the vaguest purple, very low wattage and didn't light anything that didn't phosphoresce. Nobody could see anyone's face. It was Anthony that figured it out first.

"The wipes. You got us to mark our hands with the wipes."

"Well, I'm the one who's going to be naked. I just want the small satisfaction of knowing what your hands are- or aren't doing." Wednesday said,

"There's a chair a little further back, Justin." Wednesday walked him back. They were both completely invisible, but their audience's hands were visible. Some of them hadn't figured out what to do with them yet, and had them in their armpits or were sitting on them.

Justin sat down and watched as Wednesday slipped her robe off. The bikini she was wearing glowed white as it was revealed. Everyone's eyes were drawn to her breasts, that were floating a little way above her bikini bottoms, which seemed to be suspended in midair with nothing but darkness between them.

"Amazing" Justin said. "You look great."

"Thank you. You look clothed." She sat on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head, then knelt between his knees to undo his jeans. Even having such vague visual cues heightened the experience for everyone. When he was naked, Wednesday leaned up, hands on his thighs and kissed him again.

"Reach down next to your chair on the right. There's a spray bottle there. See if there's anything you can think to do with it."

Justin found the bottle easily and gave it a little test spray. It made a phosphorescent green cloud in the air that dissipated quickly and left a faint sweet smell behind.

"I like this." he said, and sprayed directly between the halves of Wednesday's bikini. The skin of her stomach was suddenly visible. Not glowing brightly like the bikini, but just a light green glow, enough to expose her. He reached out and stroked her stomach, his hand standing out absolutely black against her. The spray had dried almost immediately, and when he touched her skin it was warm and dry.

Justin smiled in the dark. This was going to be fun. "I'm going to light you up," he grinned, and proceeded to cover Wednesday in an even, gentle glow, her legs and feet first, her back all the way to her hair, her arms, and finally, her chest and her neck. She didn't let him light up her whole face, but she let him trace an outline of her jawline, her ears, her hairline. He caressed her freely, but only where she was visible so that their audience could see. Wednesday's skin went to gooseflesh easily where he touched her.

Her figure was slim, and, while her breasts didn't look as big as they had felt, Justin was pleased to see that they completed her proportions admirably.

"What a beautiful figure. I could trace my fingers over you all night."

"Mmmm." Wednesday sighed. "Funny you should say that. But first, you need to help me take this off." And she turned around so Justin could untie the back of the swimsuit. when it fell away, it was like she was wearing a black version of the same suit, the fabric had masked the spray. He was oddly disappointed that now that her breasts were naked, he couldn't see them at all. He let his hands fall to the bikini bottoms and removed them.

"Describe what that feels like," Justin stood behind Wednesday and whispered in her ear, "to be both naked and clothed at the same time." He ran his hands across her belly and up over her naked breasts for the first time. Her nipples responded beautifully to his touch.

"The part of me that wants to hide and the part of me that wants to show off are fighting each other. It makes me a little afraid and incredibly turned on. I had more plans- with all kinds of paints and stuff, but honestly, I think I just want to improvise with you."

"I agree. Let me do something first. You look fantastic, but the faceless look is a little weird. Let me paint a mask on you and we'll go from there."

The paints, it turned out, were already laid out on the left side of the chair, so Justin had Wednesday sit in the chair and he knelt between her legs and with a few strokes he had painted a brilliant carnival mask on her in blue, orange, and yellow.

"I have to confess, I got kind of uncomfortable when I saw where you were going," Justin said as he painted. I thought you were going to expose me and I wasn't ready. I am now though. Let's give them a show. How about you paint me a mask and I'll try to make it hard for you."

"How are you going to do that?"

Justin just pressed his palms into Wednesday's breasts and rubbed her gently, then pulled her to the edge of the chair and kissed her pussy convincingly.

"How am I supposed to put a... haaaa... mask on you if your face is buried in my..."

Their audience was enthralled. They could see Wednesday's vulnerable position on the chair, and they could see Justin's silhouette where his limbs were obscuring her glowing body. It was clear that he was licking her pussy, both by her moans and by the movement of her body.

"I said I was going to make it..." Jusin touched the tip of his tongue against her clitoris and held it there for a moment, putting an insistent pressure on her, "...hard."

"Ohhhhhh shiiiit. I'm not going to be able to paint... your face..."

"... because I'm eating you out?" Justin pushed his tongue into her pussy as far as he could make it go.

"Yaahhh. I mean... shit. No. Because I can't..." Wednesday's hands clutched Justin's head, "...reach."

"Not entirely true, but let's concede the point and see what we can do about it." Justin laid down on his back on the rug. "Find a position that will work for you."

Their audience saw Wednesday's form get off the chair and straddle Justin's black form and slide herself down on his hard shaft.

"Mmm. This is a good position..." Wednesday moaned, "Give me the paint." She rocked left and right a little, squeezing him and savoring the subtle friction of Justin's cock in her pussy. From the corners of her eyes, she saw glowing hands on both sides of the room rubbing, pulling, tickling. She smiled to herself.

Justin wasn't sure how long he could handle the delicious pressure he was getting. Wednesday dipped her finger in a shallow bottle of body paint and it came out glowing blue. She had her other hand touching his face so she would know where to start. As the paint came close to his face, Justin brought his hands up off the floor and grazed Wednesday's ribs, brushed the bottoms of her breasts with his knuckles. He found her nipples and pinched just a fraction too hard.

Wednesday rode up a little and cried out, wiggling and trying to absorb the pleasure and the pain in her breasts.

Justin had been hoping for this- for just a little maneuvering space. He thrust into Wednesday's pussy twice, hard. She screamed and bit her lip before she sat back down on him to try to hold him still against the floor. She was quickly forgetting why she was trying to hold still, and she had absently grabbed Justin's left arm as he caressed her breast gently. She left a bright blue streak marking his wrist.

"Forget blue," Justin said to her, breathing hard, trying to control himself, "Get yellow- on my lips."

Wednesday reached for the yellow, dipped her finger too deeply- she was rocking her body against him- and found Justin's lips. She managed to outline his mouth with a little too much paint. It surprised her when he lunged for her finger and sucked it into his mouth.

Justin sat up, still impaling Wednesday, and with his hands behind her back and his head bent down, he licked her right breast from the bottom to the nipple. He left a blazing trail of yellow on her skin. He switched to her left breast and kissed as much of it into his mouth as he could. He swirled his tongue around Wednesday's hard nipple as she stared down at herself, fascinated. Justin was making her arousal visible.

When he let go of her nipple, he didn't even have to ask- Wednesday was ready with more yellow for his lips. She whimpered as he rocked her back and forth, as she put a new layer of color on him and he immediately went to her neck, kissing and biting, to her chin, to her lips, lighting her body in yellow phosphorescence.

Justin fell back, barely registering Wednesday, putting the paint on her own lips and falling down over him and kissing his neck. He nearly yelled, outraged, when she pulled off of his cock completely before he realized what she was doing- kissing his nipples, his belly, and after applying another layer of light to her mouth, she went down on him.

As a blowjob it was disappointing. Just two very slow, twisting bobs and a lingering kiss to his balls. It was only to apply a layer of paint to his beautiful manhood that she did it. She wanted to see him. It left him raging with lust.

Justin snatched the paint from her hand and dumped it over his fingers. It spilled over his hand and the rug. He pushed Wednesday onto her back, leaving a handprint between her breasts and Justin followed her, his glowing hand finding her crotch and smearing paint over her pussy, pushing fingers inside her, smearing up across her belly, smashing her left breast, around her neck.

His glowing cock penetrated her, and there was no holding still this time. Wednesday met his pounding hungrily, Justin entwined his bright fingers with Wednesday's and she squealed with each thrust, her breasts bouncing. Yellow sparks spattered everywhere from between their bodies.

"You're the fucking sun, Justin," Wednesday hissed, "Come with me." She licked his neck, bit his earlobe, and he came, grunting into her and pounding. Wednesday rolled into a massive climax, arching her back against his weight and wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She screamed through her teeth, and just before she ran out of breath, Justin kissed her lips, surprisingly tenderly. She had another small orgasm, shook, and softly passed out.

----

Monday had sat most of the time with her glowing green hands gripping the chair tightly, her thighs squeezing together. She thought it was Friday next to her, but she wasn't sure. Whoever it was, one of her hands was mostly invisible under her shirt and the other was mostly invisible inside her panties and when she came her head hit the wall behind her.

Monday had given up in the end and brought herself to a frustrating orgasm from outside her clothes, only allowing herself a little squeal when what she wanted to do was to scream, even though some of the other girls weren't showing so much restraint.

When it was over and Justin and Wednesday were lying exhausted on the carpet, Monday went unsteadily to the wall and turned the lights off. The sudden blackness left afterimages of the two naked bodies on the floor. She made her way carefully to the film closet. Justin and Wednesday stirred.

"Hey you two. The closet is this way."

----

Inside the closet Justin sat exhausted against the wall and Wednesday sat with her back against his chest and his arms around her.

"I really, really appreciate you," Wednesday said, "and I especially appreciate what you just did to me," she said.

"You said I was the 'fucking sun,'" Justin said, thoughtfully, lightly trailing a finger around her breast. "I think that's the best thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Yes, well you were shining yellow and making me hot and sweaty. And you're good- a good lover, a good artist, a good person. I've been drawn to evil and it doesn't feel like I felt tonight." Wednesday kissed him on the corner of his jaw. "You guys are going to have to clean up a mess in your basement tomorrow."

"What- worse than usual?"

Wednesday giggled. "That paint that's yellow under the UV is dark red in natural light. When you guys get the bulbs changed back it's going to look like a murder scene in there."

Justin grinned. "I'd like a stab at you again tomorrow. How serious are you girls about the rules?"

"Deadly serious. Thursday and Friday have been waiting a very, very long time and it would be cruel to cut the fun short before they appreciate their guys. I'm catching wind that Monday's got some mischief planned for Saturday. Early stages, I think, but you might get to murder me again on the weekend. Just the thought is making me leak a little."

Dane Stalling · Jan 29, 2020

Thursday

The daily email came in the middle of the afternoon.

Hello boys,

It's not every day I feel like I need to wash my hands as much as Lady Macbeth. Wednesday's naughty little prank last night has earned her Jill Kill status for the rest of the week. It's going to be a very long couple of days for her.

Sorry our little letter is coming to you so late in the day. We had been hoping to keep our normal schedules, but this week is going to be a total loss in terms of our higher education. We're all just drifting through days in post-coital horniness and torturous anticipation. You've ruined us. We just slept in today and skipped our classes. We enjoy imagining that we're having a similar detrimental effect on your lives as well.

Tonight Thursday will appreciate Anthony. Her reporting on his good deeds is sketchy, since she keeps on about his smile and how she loves his black hair. However, we did manage to get a little something on him. He has arranged his school schedule so that three days a week he visits a group home near the city center where he visits his sister who has Downs Syndrome. He takes her to the petting zoo or out for a smoothie or a walk through the park where he pushes her on the swing. He's never embarrassed of her, even when she grabs someone else's smoothie.

We're pretty sure Thursday will do a great job of letting him know how we feel about guys like Anthony.

Tonight we hope Gabe will allow us to use his delicious rug. You need to come up with a couple of beanbag chairs. Anthony, Thursday loves your voice and she loves stories. Maybe you can think of a hot one to tell her. We'll join you in the basement in the dark at 9:00.

Love, Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday

----

Anthony beamed. "Those girls are absolutely brilliant. I love smart girls."

Dieter tried to look happy for Anthony, but his face said he was hoping Thursday was his day.

"Hey, Dieter, don't worry. I bet they're saving the best for last," Steve said, putting his arm around his friend's shoulder.

"I hope so- I have to keep making my workouts longer to burn off the boner."

"You poor man. Get over it. Okay- I'll grab some beanbags at the mall," Anthony said, grabbing the keys to his car. As he walked out the door, the guys just heard him wondering to himself, "I wonder if I can get those in cashmere?"

----

As it turned out, Anthony could only get vinyl beanbags, and given the trajectory of the week, he felt that it would be pretty tacky to just plop those on Gabe's alpaca rug. Gabe had an idea though, and they ended up covering the beanbags with the rug. It was the best of both worlds.

At 9:00 the girls came into the darkness, chattering and lighthearted. If there was any friction in their house today, it was forgotten now.

"This is my favorite part of the day," one of the girls said cheerfully, feeling for the girls' chairs, "even if I can't get boned."

Anthony stood between the beanbags, barefoot in jeans and a comfortable cotton button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up.

"Anthony?"

"I'm here."

The girl's hand bumped into his arm and he held it, searched for her other hand, and held that too.

"I'm Thursday," she started, "but I guess you knew that."

"I'm Anthony, but I guess you knew that. Would you like to have a squishy seat?"

"In a minute. I want you to look at me first, I mean, in the only way you can."

Her voice was subdued, a little nervous, but like the other girls, her voice was intelligent and clear. Anthony thought it was amazing how beautiful a woman's voice could sound.

Anthony reached up and touched her face. Her head was down a little, she was clearly fighting nerves. He stroked her cheek and ran a hand through long wavy hair.

"This is difficult for you," Anthony whispered so the others couldn't hear.

Thursday nodded and whispered back, "I didn't expect to be so shy, but last night was such a- a hard act to follow, and I really can't compete with that. I was really into the game until just this moment and now I have cold feet."

Anthony put his finger on Thursday's lips. "Hey. Let me take some of the pressure off okay? Last night wouldn't have been my thing. You girls are great, and I've been looking forward to meeting you, but this is supposed to be fun. For all of us. You don't have to do anything that's not fun for you. Don't compete. I really enjoy a woman who's enjoying herself and I want you to enjoy yourself. You're completely free to stop any time."

"Wouldn't I leave you..." Thursday searched for the word, "...horribly frustrated if I did that?"

"Yes you would, but I can go a long way towards alleviating that frustration all by myself with no regret. Don't do anything you'd regret."

Thursday hugged Anthony warmly. "You know, I think that's all I needed to hear. Thank you." She took a breath. "Now, I got all dressed in this Renaissance faire getup and I think you need to do your duty and experience it."

Anthony let his hands run over Thursday's back. She was wearing a form-fitting top made of a soft velvet. There were small buttons all down her back. Anthony took his time, feeling her shoulders, the wide boat neck of the top, Thursday's small breasts with her nipples pushing out against the fabric and his fingers. She had a flat belly that moved expressively with her breathing.

"Keep moving down," she murmured, "I think you'll like this part."

Anthony had gathered that the other girls had worn fairly short and revealing clothing, and was surprised when the thin silk fabric of Thursday's skirt went almost all the way to her ankles. He was also impressed with exactly how far that was. She had legs that went on and on. He had to kneel to find the bottom of the skirt. Her feet were bare.

"Mmm," Anthony said, "I love the feel of this skirt on your legs. You're so soft and smooth.

"Go ahead then. I like your touch. Feel this skirt on my legs."

Anthony ran his hands up the backs of Thursday's legs, the fabric bunching and running between his fingers. He rested his cheek against her stomach. His hands reached her ass and he enjoyed feeling the perfect balance between the softness and the firmness of her bottom. Her hand caressed his cheek and mussed his hair.

"There was one thing about last night," Thursday said, "that I thought was unsatisfying. Can you guess what it was?"

Anthony's fingers were under her skirt, exploring the perfection of Thursday's thighs, and he found it hard to tear his attention away from Thursday's legs. He said the first thing that came to mind. "She never explained about the pillowcases in the laundry. What the hell was she talking about?"

"Yes! I was so hoping she would get around to that. It made me hot thinking about what it would do to you."

Anthony had his fingers trailing across the surface of Thursday's cotton panties. "It's kind of hard to be interested in laundering pillowcases. I'm interested in getting into your..."

Thursday knelt down so she was nose to nose with Anthony and took his face in her hands. "Sometimes when a girl is extremely horny and she doesn't have anyone handy to, well, fuck her, she finds it necessary to hump what's handy, and usually what's handy in a girl's bed is her pillow."

Anthony was dumbstruck. "You can do that?"

"We all can do that, and we all do."

There was an indignant snort from one of the girls.

"Okay, well most of us do. One of us keeps a few wiggle toys in the second shoebox from the left on the shelf of her closet behind her teddy bear for occasions when she 'can't get boned.'"

Laughter erupted out of the darkness from three of the girls. "I'm going to move those as soon as I get back to my room," said an embarrassed voice.

"Pillows. That is totally hot," Anthony stuttered. "I would love to see that."

"I sort of hoped you would. Steve?" Thursday's unexpected change in tone surprised everyone, and startled Steve.

"Me? Uh, here." Steve had not expected to be addressed.

"Be a sweetie and get Anthony's pillow from his bed for me."

"His pillow? Okay." He bumped into the wall and stumbled up the basement stairs.

"Anthony, I want you to sit on the floor and lean on one of those bags. Spread your legs. I'm going to set up between them."

Steve came back, breathless. "What did I miss?"

"The pre-game show. Toss me that pillow." Thursday said.

Thursday took a deep breath, hugging the pillow to her breasts. She smelled Anthony's cologne, a faint smell of shampoo and a concentrated scent she recognized as uniquely his. Her arousal spread through her warmly. She buried her face in the pillow and breathed again, feeling the drug of the man go to her head. "I might be able to come just from your smell," she said fondly.

Anthony felt like he was flying, and it took him a while to remember what she was talking about when she said, "Now would be a great time for your story."

He went blank. He had written down the names of half a dozen stories he had written, with a range of subject matter, and he had nothing.

"Normally," Thursday was saying, "a girl will fantasize about some person or situation- you know, seducing the professor, or a romantic picnic under a tree on a hill that leads to a tumble in the grass, licking chocolate off a man's... you get the idea."

Anthony spoke out of the darkness, "What about you? What do you fantasize about?"

Thursday was silent for a moment. "Lately? Just you. Will you take off my skirt?"

Anthony felt Thursday arranging his pillow between her legs. She tucked her knees under his so she could be as close as possible to him.

"I'll start when you start your story." She leaned forward, her hands against his thighs, and she barely touched his lips with her own. "Are you going to make me wait?" She kissed him. "Come on."

"I needed a car," Anthony started. He was in a panic about the story and he started with the first thing that came into his head- something he hadn't intended to tell anyone, ever.

"Oooh. First person." Thursday muttered, as she started to rub herself against Anthony's pillow, "Vulnerable. Mmmm."

"I needed a car, so I looked in the paper, online, on the bulletin boards at school. There were the usual cheap beaters, and I had to keep moving up in the price range. I test drove a few, did a few drive bys. I didn't see anything promising until I found an ad for this '84 Volvo. It was a little expensive, but I made a call to set up a drive, borrowed my mom's car and went by that afternoon. The lady selling the car came out to the driveway before I even turned off the engine."

"It was because of your voice on the phone," Thursday said. She wiggled left and right for a little while and sighed contentedly, then rocked back and forth again. "It made her all hot and bothered, didn't it? Tell me what she looked like. Details."

"She was maybe thirty years old, shoulder length brown hair. She was wearing a t-shirt and soft gym shorts like she'd been doing yoga or something. She had a pretty face, not really beautiful, but it was obvious that she spent a lot of time working out."

Anthony felt Thursday's every thrust against his pillow. She was breathing into his neck and pushing her hands against his thighs for leverage.

"A classic setup. Were her nipples hard?" Thursday pressed her fingernails into Anthony's thighs. "My nipples are hard."

Anthony cupped Thursday's breasts and let them rub against his hands as she rocked. She moaned in appreciation. "If I tell you that it's going to ruin the buildup of the story."

"Mmm. The buildup is happening no matter what. That feels wonderful. Get me out of this top."

"Her nipples weren't hard yet," Anthony continued, as he struggled to undo the buttons down Thursday's back. "Her husband had bought her a new car and she had to get rid of the old one." Finally Thursday helped him by holding her torso still for long enough to unbutton her top. Her pelvis kept grinding into his pillow even then. Anthony pulled the velvet garment off of Thursday and set his hands back to work on her nipples to her squeal of delight.

"She apologized that the price was high, she said she had a soft spot in her heart for the car and she didn't want just anyone driving away in it. It didn't look remarkable to me, it was maroon. She suggested taking it for a spin, handed me the keys, and jumped in the passenger seat."

"I like this story." Thursday muttered, breathing hard, "Will it be the blowjob on the freeway, the screw in the back seat in a busy parking lot, or a slow fuck on the hood with a view of the ocean?"

"The car was solid- the engine sounded great, the suspension was quiet. It felt dependable. I asked her what it was that she liked so much about it. She said it was okay in the city, but it was really a joy on the freeway. So I grabbed an onramp and accelerated to 65. I did't want to get a ticket in someone else's car. This is when I looked over and noticed her nipples poking hard for freedom. She said to take it a little faster."

"So it's the blowjob on the freeway then," Thursday purred. "Wait a minute though, I need a little something." She pulled Anthony's right leg in a little and draped the pillow over his lower leg, straddled it, and tried a few experimental rubs, her bottom brushing the top of his foot. She decided to pull off her panties too. "Ohhhhh yessss. That's much better. And I can reach you from here too!" She unzipped Anthony's fly and pulled out his thumping hard-on.

"SSSsssss," Anthony breathed as Thursday's mouth enveloped him. "To be honest," he gasped, "there's not actually a blowjob in this story..."

Thursday sucked out to the tip of his cock and let it pop out of her mouth. "I hate this story. Keep going." She went down on him again.

"She said to drive 68 miles per hour, exactly. So I pushed down the ahhhhhhh, shit that feels good... I pushed down the accelerator and the car started to shake. I think at least two of the wheels were unbalanced and they turned the whole car into a vibrator at 68 miles per hour. The next time I looked over at her she had both hands on the car's ceiling pushing her ass hard into the seat. Her knees were pressed together hard. She gasped and squealed and writhed all over the place as she came. Then she said to go to 70."

Thursday sat up straight, Anthony's cock popping out of her mouth again. "She skipped 69? How odd for an erotic story. This is a very unusual sex romp. No negotiating financial terms with sexual favors, no suggestive banter, no blowjob! I'm starting to wonder..." she pulled the pillow out and pressed her pussy directly on Anthony's thigh, "...did this actually happen to you?"

Anthony's embarrassed silence was enough.

"Holy fucking shit! No wonder she didn't want to sell it. How many times did she come?"

"It was kind of hard to tell where one stopped and the next one started. She kept climbing around to different seats in the car. She said they each gave her a different flavor of climax.I guess we went about fifteen miles..."

"FIFTEEN MILES!" The girls all laughed.

"And then we came back." The laughter turned to hysterical shrieks.

"I have a million questions for you," Thursday said mischievously, rubbing her pussy wetly against Anthony's thigh and playing with his hair, "like did she get you off too? And if she did, how did she do it? And how many times?"

"She never touched me," Anthony said, a touch of regret in his voice. "Just being in the car with her as she had all those orgasms made me so horny I came in my pants just before we got off the freeway. She noticed, and smiled at me, but that was it."

"Lie down on the floor," Thursday ordered. "I'm going to ask you the most important question of all, but first I'm going to get in a position to let you know what I think of your answer." She pulled his pants and his boxers halfway down and straddled his waist. She put the head of his cock at the moist entrance to her pussy and held it there, a fraction of an inch inside her.

"Did you buy that car?"

Anthony pushed up into Thursday a little and she backed off a little.

"Tell me you bought that car." She pinched the tip of his cock briefly with her pussy.

"You're trying to manipulate me," Anthony said, pushing into Thursday a little. "You're going to fuck me no matter what my answer is, aren't you?"

Thursday paused for two breaths. "Yes I am."

"Hell yes I bought the car." Anthony thrust into Thursday just as she pushed down onto him. He pressed his hands up over her breasts and squeezed as a rhythm formed out of the initial frantic disorganized pushing.

A desperate keening escaped Thursday's throat, widening and deepening with her. "Smart... boys... make... me... SO... HOT!" She managed as she squeezed him as hard as she could with her pussy and threw her hair over his face as the pace increased. "Ohhhh, you're so good inside me. Make me come, Anthony!"

Hearing his name on her tongue with such an incredible desire pushed Anthony right to the edge of orgasm. He grunted and pushed hard over and over again into Thursday. He felt a change in her pussy, a sudden sweet slippery pulse just before she screamed her climax. He came hard with her, pinching her nipples and wishing he knew her name so he could whisper it to her.

----

"Let's have a little privacy," Thursday said finally.

"I need to borrow your car." Thursday spoke before the film closet door was even closed.

"Hell no. You'll crash it."

"Okay then," she said, "Can you tell me how many girls you've given rides to?"

"Just one."

Thursday's voice turned a faint tinge of jealous. "Who was she?"

"Who is she, you mean. Her name is Rachel. She's my sister."

"YOU GIVE YOUR SISTER RIDES IN YOUR CAR?"

Anthony burst into laughter. "I take her to the park on city streets. Thirty five at the very fastest."

"Shit, I'm sorry- of course..."

Anthony hugged her. "I did kind of deserve that. If you think it will make you feel better, I could give you a spin around the block sometime. I've been wanting to see it do its stuff again."

She hugged him back warmly. "I would really like that. Please don't forget."

Anthony leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I'll remember your ride every time I put my head on my pillow."

Dane Stalling · Jan 31, 2020

Friday

Dieter was at the gym at 7:00 a.m. on Friday working out hard. The week had been a hard one. He wasn't a spectator type and it had been frustrating to sit on the sidelines. The weights he was lifting hurt, but he enjoyed the feeling of the strength in his muscles, the competence of his body when faced with the simple physical challenge.

Friday watched him from a stationary bike across the gym. He was truly well built- he had a sense of how to build his body to pleasing proportions. He'd been spending a lot more time in the gym the last few days, and as a result, she had too. The girls were keeping close tabs on the guys, partially to make the game more exciting. It was a huge turn on to pull a random fact out of the hat to surprise them with, but increasingly, Friday just liked to look at him and imagine running her hands all over his perfect body. She wouldn't have to wait much longer. It was time to go.

As she went into the locker room a sprightly barbie of a woman was bouncing out, ready for her workout and dressed for a show.

"See if you can get a rise out of the Adonis," Friday said to her offhandedly as she walked past, "I've been in the same room with him all week and he hasn't seen me."

The blonde's eyes sparkled as she looked at the man across the gym pouring his soul into the iron. She made a beeline for a point twenty feet in front of him, searching for an apparatus that would involve a lot of bending over.

By the time Friday came back out of the locker room, Dieter was gone and the blonde was hitting a punching bag in a far corner. She smiled to herself. It was time for him to go home anyway. She pulled out a cell phone and keyed in a short text message, "Send it" and left the gym.

----

The email was already there when Dieter got home. None of the other guys were up yet, so he had the leisure of a first read in private.

Hello boys,

It's Friday, and we wanted you guys to wake up to something nice, so- a big virtual hug from all of us. We all kissed Anthony's Volvo for good luck last night as we left. We hope he doesn't mind.

Tonight Friday is going to appreciate the long-suffering Dieter. She's told us quite a bit about him, but we'll just stick to a few things. He helps teach a course in self-defense at the gym, and he usually ends up impersonating the bad guy. He tolerates a lot of slapping, kicking, and eye poking, not to mention kicks to the groin. We appreciate that. It's a skill that two of us have had to use for our own safety- fortunately we were successful. That's important work and we appreciate that he's helping women stay safe. Dieter also recycles (Germany gets points for this one) and this morning he shut down a blonde tart that was trying to get into his very appealingly clingy workout shorts. Friday is still smiling about it. We find the ability to delay gratification attractive in a man.

Tonight we need to adjust the seating because of a fun little game Friday wants to play. Set up the seats like always, except don't put a chair in the center. We'll explain more when we get there. Friday would be glad to have the use of Gabe's magical rug if he can part with it for another night.

This is the last night of the game as we had originally imagined it (and it has gone better than we imagined!) but we thought we would just add one more round. Something completely different. I have a truly devilish idea, and if it goes according to plan, on Saturday you can look me in the eyes and tell me how much you hate it. Watch your email.

Love, Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

----

Dieter made himself a cup of coffee and went outside to the driveway. Anthony's Volvo was sparkling clean, like always, but there were five neat lipstick kiss marks evenly spaced along the top of the driver side window. The last one was the largest and he studied it, hoping to get a sense of who Friday was or what she was like. He shrugged eventually, touched it lightly and went inside.

----

Dieter waited in the middle of the rug in the dark, standing barefoot, wearing a light pair of pants and a cotton button down shirt.

The girls came down right on time, chatting and laughing. When they entered the room though they stood near the door instead of fumbling over to their seats.

Monday said, "Okay guys, we need to sit on the ends in the four corners, so you need to sit in the seats in the middle on both sides. Go ahead and find seats."

"Girls, find your guys and sit next to them." There was some small confusion and a few instances of accidental lap-sitting, but eventually each girl was sitting next to the guy she had appreciated.

Dieter stood in the middle of the room, waiting while the others fumbled around when he felt a soft hand touch the center of his chest and linger there. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Friday."

Monday's voice came from the corner of the room, "Okay, I don't think I need to remind you that this is Dieter's appreciation and the rest of us need to keep things more or less... restrained."

"Keep your hands at your sides," Friday whispered to him, her hand still on his chest, feeling him breathe. "I want to touch you, but I don't want you to touch me yet."

She placed both her hands at the sides of his neck and ran them lightly along the tops of his shoulders to his arms. He was relaxed, but she could feel the power in him. She felt his arms. She touched his chest, ran her palms down his stomach.

Dieter felt her walk around behind him, keeping a hand in contact with him as she walked around behind him and explored the contours of his back, her hands mirroring each other.

She slipped her hands down to his buttocks and was pleased to feel the slightest involuntary twitch as she continued down to the backs of his thighs, admiring the sculpture of his legs, his calves, his feet.

Friday faced him and placed the palms of her hands on the fronts of Dieter's thighs. "Flex these," she said, and concentrated on the sensation in her fingers as his muscles slowly acquired sharp definition and relaxed again slowly.

"I chose you to appreciate you because you are one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen," she said softly and confidently, "and because you know the value of patience, and because you will be disappointed graciously."

"Thank you, I think," Dieter loved the sound of her voice. She had a slight accent he couldn't place, and the liquid confidence with which she spoke was promising, mysterious, maybe even dangerous. "I love your voice- say something new. Tell me why I'm going to be disappointed."

"I'm not going to let you fuck me tonight. I'm a virgin and I have decided," her voice smoldered, "that the man who first pushes into me will be looking directly into my eyes when he does it."

There was absolute silence in the room.

"Our arrangement tonight clearly is unsatisfactory for me," she continued coolly, "but I have some skill which I hope will make you feel very, very appreciated. I am also going to allow you to know much more about me than my friends have allowed about themselves."

"You have my complete attention." Dieter said.

"Yes I do. I want you to appreciate me the way I just appreciated you, only don't touch my hair. That's for later."

Dieter remembered her fingers on his shoulders and matched their movements. Friday was wearing what felt like a simple cotton dress that hardly concealed her from his touch at all. It was unbuttoned very low between her breasts. She wore nothing underneath it. Her posture, like her voice was relaxed and confident, and as his hands discovered her breasts and he felt the weight of them, the image that started to form in his mind of her body was startling.

"Tell me what you are thinking," she said as his hands crossed and cupped her breasts and traveled downwards.

"I was thinking I like larger women, or rather, that I don't find skinny women very attractive. There is no movement to a skinny woman." Dieter was behind her, devouring her back with his hands. "I had hoped that you would please me this way."

"And do I please you this way?"

"You are not what I feared, but you are not what I hoped either. You are something else entirely. You are better than I hoped."

"Tell me why I am better than you hoped." Friday flexed her bottom slightly as his hands moved across her, as he had done, a private joke between them.

"You are a fully formed woman on the outside, soft, wonderful to touch, smooth, very warm." His hands trailed down her legs, past the bottom of the dress at her knees and to her feet. He stood in front of her, his hands on her thighs and without his asking she flexed them as he had, slowly, showing them off. He had a brief vision of these thighs flexing powerfully around his waist. He closed the vision off and stored it for later. "But there is steel at your core. You bring your femininity and your strength together perfectly."

"I'm glad you can see that," she said simply, "It is how I see myself also. I have made guesses about you, Dieter, and I think I am right that you value your control as much as you value your power. Perhaps more."

"I'm glad you can see that," Dieter said. This woman's self-assurance was so complete as to be almost innocent. He found it refreshing.

"It is easy for people to ask for a demonstration of power. They ask you to lift this thing or that thing, show how strong you are." Friday was unbuttoning Dieter's shirt. "I want to give you an opportunity to demonstrate your control." She pulled his pants and his boxers off at the same time, hardly touching him at all.

"Unbutton my dress. I am finished with it. You do not need to be as careful as I have been with you."

Dieter found Friday's breasts and lifted them. They completely filled his hands. He brushed her nipples lightly with his knuckles and her breathing changed subtly. She pressed herself into his hands. He grasped the neckline of her dress between her breasts and pulled until one button popped off, then another. The buttons popped off with a measured precision, one per second until the dress hung open. She shrugged and it fell to the floor.

"Lie down on the floor, then ask me a question."

Dieter complied. The alpaca felt fantastic on his skin. "My first language isn't English. I can't place your accent. Is it Italian?"

"No, not Italian. English is my third language, but I have been in the United States for three years and I have visited many times." She spread his left leg out and put what felt like a rubber band around his ankle.

"What is that?"

"A test of control. Don't move your leg. Ask another question."

"Tell me about where you grew up."

Friday pulled out his right leg out and again, he felt another rubber band slip around his ankle. "My father is the richest man in our city. He runs businesses. Some of them are dangerous. Some of them are illegal. I grew up in a big house on many hectares in the city. There were always guards at our house. He is a very influential man." She pulled Dieter's right arm up and slipped a rubber band around his wrist.

"Are you Russian?"

"I'm not Russian."

"What are you doing to me?"

Friday pulled his left arm up so he was completely spread eagled and slipped the last rubber band into place. "I'm tying you down."

"With what?"

"Single threads. The other end of each thread is attached to rubber bands on the ankles of my friends. Your left wrist is connected to Monday's ankle. If you cannot control yourself and you move your left arm, you will break the thread and snap her ankle with her rubber band. Your beautiful limbs are all connected to my friends. Ask me another question."

Dieter could feel slight tension on the rubber bands. He lay very still, but he could feel a fire kindling. The game would be a true test of his control. "Why are you in the United States now?"

Friday threw her leg over Dieter's chest and straddled him. She caressed his face. "I came for University, officially, but it's not that simple. I love my father, but I am ashamed of his business. I want to become independent from him financially. I needed to learn how to do that. I am here to become independent from my father. There are other reasons too."

"Is your accent French?"

"Very good."

"But I think you don't come from France." Dieter managed, just as Friday put a hand behind her on his stomach and started sliding it toward his cock.

"You're right. You don't like French girls, do you? You like me though. What was her name?"

Dieter was always astounded at how much these girls seemed to know. "Beatrice."

"Beatrice. You won't think of her after tonight." She found the tip of his cock with her fingers and pinched it gently and rhythmically between two knuckles. "You are free, of course, to experience a climax, but I think that would interrupt our questions, no?"

Dieter could feel Friday's pussy, moist against his chest. She seemed to press herself against him harder when she wanted to emphasize a point. Her fingers on his cock felt wonderful.

"Are you from Canada?"

She pinched him hard enough to get a grunt, but not hard enough to break threads. "I'm not Canadian." She reversed herself so she was straddling his waist, facing away from him. "I can feel your mind working. You have a very expressive cock. By holding it in my hand I can almost read your thoughts." She had his cock in her left hand, holding lightly, just feeling him, and her right hand cupped his balls. "You wonder am I Belgian or Swiss or French. You're trying to solve the problem. I will know when you have solved it. You are wondering where in the world a virgin can learn to play a man's body. Not Belgium or Switzerland or France."

Dieter's mind was racing. The pieces of the puzzle were nearly in place when he felt Friday shift. She straddled his left thigh, her pussy pressing his skin and squeezed with her thighs.

"Flex" she said. Dieter concentrated on his thigh, on bunching the muscles slowly, one by one without bending his knee and breaking the thread. The puzzle of Friday had dissolved into an effort to please her.

"That feeling," Friday said, "is delicious. I am going to tell you a story. You may think it's a strange story. You keep pleasuring me like this."

"In my city powerful men's daughters who are virgins are valuable because they can become wives to other powerful men. Business and political alliances are formed through marriage, but the strength of the alliance is dependent on the quality of the wife. So I was trained to be a good wife- in cooking, hospitality, courtesy, and lovemaking. My father owns some brothels- sad, dangerous places, but excellent for learning to please a man."

"You worked in a brothel?"

Friday's fist hit Dieter directly over his heart. "I learned skill from the women there. I will not be paid for pleasures."

Friday's thighs squeezed along with Dieter for a few moments, her breath coming faster. "Your right leg is a little stronger, yes?" And without waiting for an answer, she straddled his right thigh. "Flex." And she sighed for a few moments as she felt the power coming alive between her legs.

"They brought young men for me to practice- massage and hand pleasure and mouth pleasure. One of them lost control of himself and he tried to rape me. I broke his nose and my father heard about it and the man is lost now."

"What do you mean he's lost?"

"They can't find him. They never will." Her hand was resting lightly on his penis, registering his reactions.

"I'm not sure what to think about your father. I must confess that his approach appeals."

"Yes, well, I can't go back now. I will not make a good wife for those men."

"I don't see a downside, unless you are just phenomenally ugly."

Friday laughed. "I am not ugly. I am intelligent. That is the problem. Those men like simple wives who take orders and never think. And even if I return I will not be a virgin."

She felt a twitch in Dieter's cock and smiled to herself. "So have you solved your problem? You are close."

"You're from a recent French colony- not Southeast Asia. What is your independence day?"

"August 15, 1960."

Friday felt a jump and a steady swell in Dieter's already hard cock. "You have solved it. You can tell me what I look like now. I like this effect on you."

"Let me feel your hair."

"Mmm. That's an excellent idea." Friday's hand left his cock. Hundreds of beads fell on his chest as she slid her body down his torso and dragged her pussy down across his burning erection without allowing any penetration at all.

Dieter realized that the beads were all on the ends of long thin braids of hair and that the motion of the beads was converging on his cock. He felt Friday's teeth on the head of his penis. His mind was going fuzzy. Friday's tongue touched the tip of his cock and slipped around it in a quick circle.

Dieter struggled to resist the urge to embrace her, to hell with the threads. "You have black eyes."

"Yesss. Tell me more." Friday swirled her tongue softly around the head of Dieter's cock.

"You have black hair, braided with beads. Your skin is dark, maybe very dark. Your lips are nearly black, like your nipples. Your pussy is..."

"Black." Friday said, sliding back up Dieter's body. "And moist." She rubbed the lips of her pussy against his erection.

I want to hold you. I want to feel your skin on my fingers."

"One more answer. What country?"

"Republic of Congo. Let me hold you."

"Hold me then."

Dieter brought his arms down around Friday, ignoring the protests of the girls whose ankles he snapped with the infernal rubber bands. He curled around her, his chest touching her back, arms around her, his face against the back of her head.

"You don't need protection from anything, but I feel like protecting you. Why do I feel so much like protecting you?"

"You are a man who values women. You want them to be safe. I have been in danger and that distresses you. It's a strength and a sweetness. Some men make their bodies strong because of something they lack. You have made your body strong as an expression of your deeper strength. You are beautiful."

"I don't need anything else from you," Dieter said, stroking Friday's thigh with his fingers.

Friday turned her head and gave him a lingering kiss on his lips. "I think you are not lying. I need something from you though." She pushed him gently on his back. "I am wrapped in a great desire. Please help me." She disentangled herself from his arms and, to his surprise and delight, straddled his head and pressed her pussy gently to his lips.

Dieter nuzzled her quietly for a while, then licked, his tongue parting her outer lips, and sliding along the complicated folds of her pussy. Friday jumped a little and whimpered. Dieter ran his hands up her back, feeling the heat of her body and the tension of her arousal mounting. He licked again and she jumped. He licked again. His hands found her breasts and held them, caressing, pressing her flesh, listening to her whimper and moan her desire.

"Ohhhh. You are much better than my teacher..." Friday said, panting.

"You learned how to enjoy this?" Dieter ran his tongue gently around her clitoris and went back to long licks that covered the length of her pussy.

"Learned to give pleasure," Friday's breathing was becoming ragged, "Learned to take pleasure. Ohh yes- do that again. Yess."

Dieter picked up speed and intensity as Friday's pussy rocked against him, her moisture sliding into his mouth, and across his cheek. He vaguely registered whimpering and sighs coming from the darkness around them. He pushed his tongue into her pussy until it stopped, pulled it out, and did it again and she climaxed, sealing his mouth with her flesh and squealing, her teeth clenched, her thighs clamped around his head. She rocked gently as she came down and he flicked his tongue into her to please her.

She backed off of his face and sat on his chest to recover, leaving droplets of her moisture in the hair on his chest.

"What teacher taught you how to enjoy that?"

"That is of no importance," she said, still breathing heavily. She moved down Dieter's body and kneeled between his legs, "She was very selfish."

Before he could comment on this revelation, Friday's beads touched all in a circle around his cock and Dieter felt her lick him from base to crown, just as he had been doing to her moments before. "Are you sensitive here?" She asked innocently as one of her fingers touched his anus.

Dieter jerked. "I've never had any... luck... with that."

Friday sucked his cock into her mouth completely and bobbed her head a few times, then licked the head again. She continued, varied the pressure, the speed, the moisture. The beads clicked and danced on his skin. She sang him songs to his cock. He held her head in his hands. She made Dieter see colors and hear music and feel lightning. She made him gasp and grunt. Then, as she felt him rushing towards his orgasm, she slipped her finger into his anus and pressed.

"Shit! Ahhhhhh!" He came explosively. Friday couldn't keep up with him and his semen got on her face, on her hair. She kept her finger just inside him and pressed one more time. Dieter grunted and jerked, her teeth grazing the head of his cock, her finger on some unknown bright button inside him.

She kissed his stomach, cleaned up gently with what was left of her dress. Kissed his lips to keep him from speaking.

"Beatrice," she said, as she curled up next to him on the rug, "was doing it wrong."

"Who?" he said.

----

He asked her for her name when they were away from the others in the closet and she was standing with her head against his chest.

"Marie Marthe," she said. "The others will be upset that I have told, but they are owing me a little now. At least they think they are owing me. I have not done anything I was not hoping to do."

"Marie Marthe." Dieter said thoughtfully, "You have the names of two sisters. It seems right. You seem to be more than just one woman."

"Tomorrow's game will be difficult for some, but it won't be for you."

"Well, if it's a lineup, I know I just need to find the Congolese woman with the perfect body."

"How did you know our Independence Day?" Friday asked, "I was very impressed."

"It is my uncle's birthday. He is always joking that he's exactly the same age as Congo. It was a long shot."

"Now I'm less impressed." Marie cupped his buttocks with her hands. He flexed. "Okay," she said, "now I'm impressed again."

Dane Stalling · Feb 1, 2020

Saturday

Steve's alarm went off at 7:00 on Saturday. It was unusual for him to get up earlier than 9:00 on the weekend, but he had signed up to teach English to immigrants at the library once a month and today was his first day. He rolled out of bed, checked his email. Nothing yet. A shower and breakfast and he was on the road.

Thirty minutes later and he was helping a group of three elderly Indian ladies learn the days of the week in English.

"Sunday" they repeated after him, "Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday."

It was strange how a single week could completely load a set of ordinary words with new significance.

Dieter was at the gym. His time with Friday, with Marie Marthe, had been tantalizing and brief. She had completely skewed his standards of what he was looking for in a woman. After the girls had gone the night before he had stayed in the basement to clean things up. She had left her dress behind. He wondered if she had a change of clothes, but he guessed that she had probably just walked away naked. He had no doubt she was capable of doing that. He pushed metal against gravity. For the moment, he felt like he was beating it.

Anthony answered the door at 9:00, yawning in his boxers and a t-shirt. It was the landlord. He said he had sold the house. They had 30 days to get out.

Gabe and Justin were blasting each other to pieces on the LAN. They were talking smack on the chat channel between lobbing grenades and calling in air strikes on each other.

Anthony came in with a paper in his hand and some bad news.

----

English classes were over at noon. Steve had covered the days of the week, the months of the year, the seasons, and counting to twenty with his ladies. They left, one by one with their rides and he stood there on the curb watching them leave, a bag of cooling samosas in his hand from a grateful student.

The mood in the house when he got home was pestilential.

Then the email came.

Hi Boys,

We know about your house. Don't start packing just yet. One of us knows how to help you guys out. Trust us.

It's Saturday and today we're getting the hell out of the dark. Find us at the food court at the mall by the theater at 2:45. We'll all be within view of each other, but otherwise alone. You may have to take a few risks. Join the club.

Love,

Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday

----

"We're early," Gabe said.

"No we're not. Your watch is fast. It's always four minutes fast. We set it while you're sleeping." Anthony was in the parking lot with the guys looking at the mall. "It's kind of late for lunch- maybe there won't be too many people in there."

Anthony realized something was wrong before they even opened the glass doors.

"Oh shit." Steve spoke for all of them. The place was swarming with young women.

Dieter scowled. "Your Monday is one evil little..."

"Watch it." Steve said, "You're right though. Evil. It's opening day of romantic vampire movie 4. Right after the first showing."

There were long lines of women with the occasional humiliated boyfriend waiting to get into the second showing and crowds of blushing fan girls flowing out of the theater and into the food court.

Dieter smiled. "Well, it looks like I can eliminate 80% of the crowd. Good luck, guys." And he waded into the chaos.

Justin looked shell shocked. "I don't even know where to begin."

"They know what we know about them- they'll be signaling us somehow," but Gabe was secretly thinking the same thing. How do you find the girl who invented your favorite blowjob?

Justin groaned. "I just know she has incredible tits, but I don't actually know what they look like. I can't go around feeling all these girls. I'd get maybe three chances before security would drag me out."

Anthony took a step forward. "Well, if any of you see a hot girl humping a pillow, let me know." and he headed for the arcade.

"Screw it," Steve said and stood up on a table and started waving his arms. "Hey! Monday? How about a clue?" He waited as several hundred amused eyes turned to stare at him. "No? Okay then. Girls, I'm looking for my Cinderella and she has great smelling hair. I need you all to line up here and I'm going to sniff your hair one by one..." He saw some uniforms starting to move in his direction. "Never mind," he said quickly, getting off the table and plunging into the crowd.

----

Marie Marthe stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall near the ladies' restroom, scowling. Two girls standing near her kept up a high pitched irritating chatter, "did you see those guys. I know- the one on the table was cute. Does my hair smell nice? But I know- totally, the blond guy wearing the muscles. Wouldn't he look tasty in my Cabriolet? Is it true that guys who work out are compensating? Look, he's coming this way. Shit. I think he looked at me."

Marie Marthe watched him approach, devouring him with her eyes. "You're a beautiful man. I want you to kiss me."

When Dieter heard her voice, he knew her immediately. She was walking toward him, looking fierce, wearing a dress that was similar to the one he had destroyed the night before. Her braids were gathered in a large bundle that swung at her back. Everything about her seemed to burn, her skin was dark brown, smoking hot, her breasts swayed freely in the front of the dress. Her lips seemed to have their own dance, impatient and mobile. The way she wore the dress, she could have been naked. She transcended her clothing. Her eyes burned into him and spoke of need, impatience, passion. He kissed her deeply, enveloping her in his arms and she grabbed his buttocks and pulled herself into him.

All conversation in the vicinity lapsed into uncomfortable silence as the kiss lasted beyond what was comfortable, or even decent. Dieter's hands were on the small of her back, mostly, sometimes lower. Finally, breathless, Marie Marthe broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Look into my eyes right now, like you will later. Look into me."

Dieter did. He let his excitement, his admiration for her, his lust, he let it all show in his face. They felt completely alone. "Yes. You will take me to my room now."

As they left, a spell lifted from the people that had surrounded them. "How did she do that?" one of the chatterboxes wondered. Someone called out, "Get a room," lamely, and too late.

----

Steve had managed to evade security, and was wandering blindly looking for Monday when he saw her sitting at a table behind a bottled sports drink- long blond hair, freckles, an impish smile, and a tight white t-shirt with "Volvo" stretched over small breasts. He stumbled over a chair getting to her, and sat down across the table from her heavily. She was wearing a very distracting miniskirt.

"I'm Thursday," she said, feeling a little sorry for the way it made Steve wilt. "Monday told me you imagined she looked like me. We thought that could be a little awkward. She doesn't look like me at all. She's not that horrible though." She grinned and paused for a moment, thinking. Then she leaned forward. "I feel a little bad for you, so I'm going to help. She's wearing what she wore Monday. It's important to remember that you weren't ever going to see her in it."

"Thank you," Steve said, as he stood, "Anthony is going to be very, very pleased."

She smiled, "Thank you- I sure hope so."

----

Justin wandered hopelessly, not really having any idea of how to find Wednesday. Finally he noticed that the light in the arcade was mixed with ultraviolet. He drifted over in that direction, not sure what to look for, but not having any better ideas. Several of the girls checked him out, the male to female ratio being what it was, but none of them seemed right. One's hair was too short, one was too tall, one had an infected nose ring. Then he saw something that caught his eye- a slightly goth chick with a little tattoo of the sun under her ear. He approached her, and she smiled at him. He thought he'd take a chance.

"Play a game of Ms. Pac Man?"

"Old school. Sure, why not?"

He led her into the arcade where he could see several people's clothes glowing. He looked at the girl he had invited, and nothing about her glowed except the "Team Edward" on her black hoodie. Her voice was wrong. It wasn't her. He played the game with her, but he was distracted and played badly.

"Thanks," she said, "hey, if you haven't seen the movie yet, I'll take you."

"Thanks, no. Actually I'm trying to find someone. I met her on Wednesday. I don't really know what she looks like though."

"Cybersex, huh?"

"What? no- well, sort of," he sputtered, "I saw your tattoo and I thought it might be you."

"My sun?"

"Yeah, never mind though."

"I saw a chick with a wicked sun tattoo on her back a while ago, looked like it was inked in blood. I wanted to get a closer look, but..."

"Where was she? What did she look like? What was she wearing?"

"Eager boy. I don't know- black hair. She was facing the other way over there. White top cut low in the back."

"That's great!" Justin kissed her absently on the cheek, "Thanks!"

"No," she said, her hand on her cheek, "thank you."

Justin moved in the direction the girl had pointed, but didn't see anyone promising. He turned back to the arcade and he felt a jolt as he saw her. She was walking away from him into the arcade, an intricate sun glowing yellow under the arcade lights in the center of her exposed back, framed by long black pigtails tied low on her head. He plowed through the crowd, his eyes fixed on her back. Justin got to her and didn't wait- he grabbed her around the waist from the back and kissed her in the center of the beautifully airbrushed sun.

"Well now, that's a strange way to greet someone you've never met." The girl turned to face him. She was Asian, with prominent cheekbones and bright eyes.

Justin was stunned. "You're, um... beautiful." He stuttered and started again, "My name is..." and stopped, feeling foolish.

"I know- Justin- you feel like you should introduce yourself even though we... lit each other up the other night. My name is Kaiyin Huang, but people who know me best call me..."

"Wednesday."

"I was going to say 'Karen', but people have been calling me 'Wednesday' lately too." She smiled, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deliberately. "So, you want to want to watch the fun?" She nodded to the crowd.

Justin followed her gaze. He could see Anthony still looking, and nearby, Gabe was looking lost. Steve was moving with some purpose, but he clearly hadn't found Monday yet.

"Let's grab a table before someone else gets it." She led him out of the arcade, and he saw the artwork on her back fade to blood red on her skin. The deep V of the back of her blouse pointed at her hypnotically swaying jeans.

"Actually," Justin said as they sat down, "I think I just want to sit here and look at you. I got the idea that your breasts were your best feature, but I hadn't seen your face." Karen looked at him, amused, letting him flounder. "I know this is stupid, but it didn't occur to me that you'd be Asian."

"You guys really need to broaden your minds a little. Look over there. That's Monday in the sweater, Thursday is there at the table, Tuesday is in that line for smoothies over there."

"Huh. Thursday's the only white girl. Where are Dieter and Friday? I kind of expected them to stand out..."

"Yeah, well, she snagged him as soon as he was within earshot and grabbed his ass. She kissed him like she thought she could pop her cherry like that." Karen stopped, then added, thoughtfully, "He just might have popped her cherry with that kiss. They left- probably back to her room."

"Wow. I turn my back for a few minutes and I miss all the action. Hey- did you really get in trouble with the girls about the glow-in-the-dark stuff?"

Karen grinned, "Sort of. I've been on the honor system. I haven't come since Wednesday night and I'm all kinds of horny. I'm not allowed to use my hands and I'm no good at seam riding. I just want to see Steve's face when he sees Monday, then I'm going to jump you and hope we don't get arrested."

----

Gabe was passing the smoothie counter for the fourth time, trying to push through the line when the guy behind the counter yelled at him.

"You! With the stupid look on your face. What's your flavor?"

"I'm not in the line..." Gabe started, then stopped. He went up to the counter. "What?"

"What's your flavor?"

A smile grew slowly on his face. "You know, I've never had a smoothie before..."

"Well then," a familiar voice said just behind his ear, "this is about to become your favorite smoothie."

She grabbed his belt at the back of his pants and steered him out of the crush of the crowd, staying behind him. "Close your eyes, turn around and kiss me."

Even through the taste of the strawberry smoothie on her lips, Gabe could taste the flavor of the girl herself, and a torrent of memories from Tuesday night flooded him, and when she broke the kiss and he opened his eyes he saw a black eyed latina looking back at him, biting her lip.

"What do you think?" she watched him closely.

"I think you kiss like a goddess and you make me feel all wiggly inside."

"No-what do you think of me- now that you can see me."

She was wearing a white long sleeved t-shirt over black shorts, looking at him with what he was surprised to see was anxiety. The condensation from her smoothie was dripping off the cup and landing on a black canvas shoe. Her black hair was down and shining. A strand fell in front of her face.

"Tell me your name."

"I'm Marisol. Well? Tell me."

"Marisol, that's a beautiful name. You're absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless."

She smiled, finally. "Speechless? Where's that pretty fucking vocabulary of yours?"

"We're not engaging in the behavior that triggers..."

"We could be soon."

Justin took her by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall. He spoke insistently into her ear, his words moving her hair. "I want to spin you around until you're dizzy, kiss you like a sister, like a girlfriend, like a lover. I want to undress you with my eyes and make you blush. I want to press my lips against your shoulder, your wrist, your neck, your thigh. I want to look at your face, innocent, mischievous, and naughty. I want to see you laugh and concentrate and scream. I want to look in your eyes and watch you come as I say your name."

Marisol dropped her smoothie.

----

Steve's job was easier with Thursday's hint, but there were still a lot of girls wearing sweaters. He tried to move methodically through the crowd, but the crowd was moving too. When he finally saw her though, there was no doubt. She was sitting at the sushi bar, toying with chopsticks and watching him. The sweater was plaid, neon yellow and pink and the short silk skirt was olive drab. She was Indian, her deep brown eyes watched him with amusement as his expression transformed from shock to admiration. She had long silky black hair that hung straight down.

"My grandmother," she said, "thinks you're cute and she's planning to 'forget' the months of the year so you'll go over them again with her next time you teach."

Steve's mouth opened, then closed. "Your grandmother? She was in my class this morning? Which one was she?"

"She gave you a gift."

He remembered the samosas, setting them down in the living room when the guys told him about having to move out. The samosas had disappeared in seconds. Steve moved behind her and touched her. The sweater felt wonderful. He ran his hands down her back and brought his face down to her hair and breathed in. She wasn't wearing anything under the sweater.

She sighed happily. "My name is Amala."

"Amala. You're Indian. I was completely wrong and you didn't even give me a hint."

"Don't feel bad. It's hard to tell with just your fingers and your tongue. Besides, it made me hot thinking about what you didn't know." She turned her face up to him. "Kiss me." She ran her tongue into his mouth and across his tongue. She took Steve's hands and pulled them briefly across her breasts in a way that she hoped was somewhat discreet. "Do I taste like curry?"

"Not your mouth. Jury's out on the rest of you though."

"Smart boys..." she sighed. "We'll arrange an experiment. White boys always think Indian girls will taste like curry. And you, if you're like most white people, are German, Norwegian, and Irish with a pinch of French from a black sheep in the family tree. Do you think about it much?"

"No."

"Neither do I. All that international hanky panky made you a very handsome man though." And she popped a California roll into her mouth. "You want some?"

"Sure." Steve grabbed another pair of chopsticks and struggled with a piece of crab. "I get it," he said, "chopsticks."

"Yes, and a cotton ball. You believed we could come up with seven ways to make you come with chopsticks and a cotton ball."

"It was just a figure of speech..."

"Maybe, but the idea has provided us with many delightful hours of speculation, and a little bit of informal experimentation." Amala picked up another roll, dipped it in soy sauce and ate it, closing her eyes as the flavor filled her mouth. "We could only come up with four."

"You actually came up with four ways..."

"Well, sort of. One could possibly result in difficult to explain splinters in sensitive areas. One required three chopsticks- you know, minimum. One only works on women. Sorry. Our best technique would definitely work spectacularly," she looked at her watch, "but we think it will take about four hours."

"You're not planning on..."

"Not today, no. Today I want an orgasm too."

----

Anthony found Thursday spinning an empty plastic bottle on her table.

"I thought I might have to go out and set off the alarm on your car to get your attention," she grinned mischievously, "but you've had kind of a bad day, right? My name is Summer."

"Hi Summer. Nothing bad about this day. You're amazingly beautiful."

"Getting an eviction notice didn't get to you at all?"

"Details. Let me look at you for a while."

Summer stood and came to his side. "Get a good look. I don't want you to miss anything." She turned around slowly, brushing her bottom against his shoulder, putting her hand in his hair. Anthony drank in the sight. She had a heart shaped bottom, just covered by a grey pleated miniskirt and he flashed back to his hands on her in the dark. She sat on his lap facing him and stared into his eyes, oblivious to the mall crowd around them.

"Go ahead. Look at them."

Anthony glanced around quickly. There were a few people watching curiously. He put them out of his mind and looked down at Summer's small breasts, inches in front of his chest, nipples poking out at him. She was holding her shoulders back a little and pushing them out. She sighed, sadly. "I'm afraid this is as much action as my girls can get here, and they're so hard. Is there anything hard on you?"

Anthony let his eyes fall down to his fly and back up to Summer's eyes. She looked down at his erection under his pants and smiled hungrily.

"I think we're done here." He said. Summer slid off his lap and he grunted softly as she dragged her shoe across his erection. "What do you want to do now?"

"You know what I want." She pointed at 'Volvo' on her shirt, "Or do nipples make men illiterate?"

"That's yes and yes again."

"Meet me outside. My mommy taught me to go to the bathroom before getting in the car for a long trip."

Anthony was sitting on a flower planter in the sun a few minutes later when Summer came out of the mall, an odd look on her face.

"I must be totally out of my mind," she said, "but a girlfriend from my sculpture class is in there- her boyfriend ditched her and she doesn't have a way to get home. I told her I'd see if I could figure something out for her."

"We've got time. Let's give her a lift. Where does she live?"

"Sunnyside. I told you, I'm out of my mind. I should have just pretended I didn't see her, but she was crying. Shit- I'm sorry to mess things up."

"It's okay. Lemons. Let's make lemonade. Where is she?"

"Probably watching through the glass doors. Her name is Beth." Summer motioned for her to come out. A girl in a black hoodie and black jeans came out of the mall, trying to hide black mascara streaks running down her face. She was thin and pale faced and he could see that she would be delicately pretty on a good day. Her mouse brown hair hung down over her eyes.

"Rough day, huh?" Anthony said, turning his back to spare her feelings. "Let's get you home," and he started out for the car. Summer grabbed his hand and squeezed as she walked along with him, Beth following a few paces behind.

"It makes me hot that you're so stinking nice," she said quietly, "and it pisses me off that you being nice means I have to wait to do all the dirty things I have planned."

"Yeah, well, being nice has worked out really well for me lately." Anthony squeezed her hand back. "This trip could be... well, it's at least ten minutes on the freeway."

"I know." Summer walked silently next to him, thinking. She turned to him. "Friends share, right?"

"Not me they don't," Anthony said quickly.

"Of course not. But maybe we can just cheer her up a little." A breeze picked up Summer's hair and blew it across Anthony's face. He wanted to bury his face in her hair, but clenched his teeth and kept walking. Summer squeezed his hand again. "She needs a little kindness."

Anthony thought for a minute. "Okay. Here's what I'll do. I'll drive exactly the way you tell me to. This is you being nice. I'm playing dumb."

"Here it is," Summer said to Beth when they got to the car, "Hop in the back."

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Beth finally spoke. "I really appreciate this. I feel so stupid."

"Don't worry about it. Anthony's one of the nicest guys I know. I knew he'd come through."

Summer sat in the passenger seat of the old Volvo, her feet comfortably up on the dashboard as they accelerated onto the freeway. Beth was sitting behind Anthony, curled into the corner of the back seat. Summer caught Anthony's eye and turned the knob on the stereo up a little, even though the stereo was off. He understood and sped up to 66.

"I saw lip marks on the window." Beth's voice floated forward from the back. "Did someone do that while you were in the mall?"

Summer didn't answer fast enough. Anthony smiled, "Those are my trophies. Girls who... appreciate me... leave me a little memento. Summer's the fourth one. Right here." He tapped the glass.

Summer scowled at him and mouthed I'm going to kill you. She could feel a minor vibration starting. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make her relax a little and let her eyes go out of focus. She looked back at Beth. She had her eyes closed, clearly enjoying the sensation. She jumped when Summer spoke.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What? Oh- him. Not really. I guess it was sort of my fault for being so into Jacob whenever he was on screen. I couldn't shut up about him."

Summer turned the volume knob up again, and then again. Anthony sped up to 68. The vibration started in earnest. Whatever the tires were doing, it made an absolutely delicious sensation bloom in Summer's pussy.

She kept her voice natural, with some effort. "What do you like about Jacob anyway? I kind of pegged you for a vampire groupie."

Beth's breathing was speeding up a little, but she answered bravely. "Well, he's all smoking and hard... everywhere. And he never wears... a shirt and he just looks hot to touch. Mn. Um- is the car supposed to shake like this? I mean, is it safe?"

Anthony kept his head pointed straight ahead, but his eyes were on Summer as she tried to tell Beth to keep the effects of the car secret from him. She was shaking her head and shushing her. "I'm sure it's perfectly safe. Anthony takes very good care of his car."

"So," Summer started, caught her breath, and started again, "So- you were telling me about Jacob."

"Yess. I- I forgot where I was..."

Summer twisted around and whispered, just a little too loud, "I love this car! Shhh." She closed her eyes and bit her lip and crossed her legs.

Beth grinned back shyly then took a deep shuddering breath. This was going to be a hard secret to keep.

Summer suddenly had an idea. She turned the volume down a few notches. "Beth, do you have your iPod? You made that sculpture class playlist- I bet Anthony would like it."

Beth was trying to get control again. The vibration had eased off, but her body wasn't slowing down as fast as the car. She fumbled in her bag and handed the iPod and headphones over to Summer.

Summer reached over and put the earbuds in his ears. "Anthony, you have to listen to this. She made a totally rocking set." Summer winked at Beth, but she didn't start the music. She punched Anthony's shoulder and yelled. "Cool, huh?"

He grinned and nodded. Then he saw her hand spinning the knob up on the car stereo.

----

Justin was tracing the sun on Karen's back with his finger. "What the hell is seam riding?"

"You're kidding me." Karen turned around to see his face. "You've never heard of seam riding?"

"Not kidding. You said you aren't good at it."

"Remember pillow humping?"

Justin smiled. "That I remember."

"Seam riding is the advanced version. It's a way a girl can get herself off in public by crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together, sometimes pressing against the seam of her jeans for pressure on her clit."

"Girls can do this? It sounds amazing."

"It would be if I could fucking do it."

"So there could be a girl in here doing that right now? How would you know? Can you see any?"

Karen scanned the people sitting at the tables. "There's one, I think."

Justin followed her eyes. "Where?"

"The girl with the vampire makeup eating the corn dog. She's real gone. Look at her eyes. In some fantasy. Now look at her legs. The one crossed over the other is rocking, the toe is leading the movement. Can you see it? Squeeze, pause, squeeze, pause."

"I think so. How can you be sure?" Justin was fascinated. Girls could do so much cool stuff.

"We'll know pretty soon. Either she's just innocently rocking her foot or she's going to climax. When she does, her thighs will clench down and she'll make some involuntary noise that she has to cover somehow. She'll fake coughing or a sneezing fit or maybe giggling. Keep watching."

"So let me get this straight," Justin was grinning. "Some women fake orgasms in private, but in public they fake sneezing?"

"Well? What would you do?"

"I see what you mean. I guess I'd sneeze all over the place."

"There she goes- white knuckes... clenching, oh wow- I haven't seen that much shaking before... aannnd..."

The girl sneezed seven times in a row.

"I feel like I should clap for her or something," Justin said, impressed. "Why can't you do it?"

"I don't know. It feels good for a while, then I just plateau."

"Show me."

"I'm not doing that right now. I don't need to. I have you."

"Five minutes. If you get off I'll take you anywhere you want to go and I'll do anything... anything you want. If you don't get off, same deal. Anything you want. If you don't even try, well, I guess we can go wedge ourselves into a changing room. This is a mall."

"Those are very generous terms. Five minutes." Karen crossed her legs and took a deep breath.

Seven minutes later they were in Justin's car on the way to his room. He was breaking several traffic laws.

"Can't you drive faster?" Karen was writhing in the passenger seat. "I was soooo close and you stopped me."

"Five minutes was up."

"Fuck the five minutes. I needed another thirty seconds."

"I will do everything in my power to make you forget those thirty seconds. What's it going to take?"

It took her the rest of the drive to tell him what it would take.

She left her shoes in the car, her blouse on the porch, her bra on the stairs, and she was struggling to get her jeans off at the door to Justin's room when they stuck around her ankles and she fell into his room, struggling and swearing.

"Help me get these damn pants off..." When she looked up, he was miraculously naked and unflustered. She stopped for a second, breathing hard and saw his cock pointing straight at the sky. She started struggling again with renewed energy.

"You don't have time to get those off." He said, and he lifted her feet into the air, put his head between her knees and slipped his body between her legs. When his cock was poised at the lips of her pussy and her legs were trapped around his waist with the jeans, he bit her left nipple. She jumped and growled. He bit her nipple again and slid into her.

"Ohhhh Yessss," she yelled, and pushed hard against his thrusting. The jeans around her ankles gave her extra leverage, and she pulled hard, bit his shoulder, dug her fingers into his back.

Justin was surprised at her need, but he matched her, thrust for thrust, pushing her passion, driving her. He grunted each time he slammed into her and she responded with delighted squeals.

Karen screamed and Justin stopped her mouth with his own. The kiss was short and hard. She broke it. "Oh, Justin... Yes!" She came, shuddering and wailing. Justin stroked into her three more times and came, pumping hard into her pussy. He collapsed on top of her as she started to relax, gasping and laughing. He laughed with her.

Justin lifted up on his elbows and looked into her flushed face. He was still inside her and felt her pussy twitching as she came down. "I think you faked it." He smiled at her.

"What a horrible thing to say." She kissed him lightly on the lips and squeezed his softening cock with her pussy. "What makes you think that?"

"You didn't even sneeze once."

----

Marisol was dragging Gabe towards the theater.

"I thought we were getting out of the dark."

"That was before I had to fuck you right away. Now the only place we'll have any privacy is the theater."

"You're kidding me. There are a million people in there."

"Yep. They're all watching shirtless hunks fight over brooding girl. We're going to see that." She pointed at a poster. Screen 14 was showing a comedy of manners set in London in 1840.

"Smart girls are so..."

"...resourceful when it comes to banging venues. You're buying my ticket. I bought your smoothie."

"You dropped it."

"I dropped my smoothie, and that was your fault. I'll expect a replacement. Your smoothie is still on the counter at the shop."

The theater was empty and the movie was starting. Gabe took Marisol to the top row and kissed her, sat down and pulled her down on his lap. She ground into his erection as he ran his hands under her shirt, up her belly and across her bra. She got her shirt and bra off and threw them on the seat as he slid his hands between her legs and tapped her shorts gently, right on top of her clit. Marisol sighed.

Gabe loved the feel of her skin- smooth and responsive. He ran his hands over her breasts, loving the sensation of her nipples hardening under his hands.

"No good," she gasped, "it's too dark. Let's go to the front."

Gabe registered the first scenes from the film vaguely- a lot of parasols in manicured English gardens. There was a small stage immediately below the screen. Marisol jumped up on it. "Stay there. You have to see me."

She stood in the shifting light from the projector and slowly turned around, showing off her hair, her back, her breasts. Gabe watched with his heart in his throat as she pulled off her shorts, then her panties. He pulled of his shirt as he watched her pace the stage, waiting for him impatiently. "If someone walks in..."

Marisol interrupted him. "They'll get a graphic representation of the subtext of the film. Help me out. When he says, 'Harriet, you are full of charms,' what he really means is..."

"I want to fuck you until you scream." Gabe climbed on to the stage, naked. "And when she says, 'Oh Clive! You startled me,' she means..."

"You caught me fingering myself thinking about you." Marisol ran a finger into her pussy and out again. She shuddered happily as Gabe wrapped his arms around her from behind and teased her nipples. "And when he says 'The hounds are on a scent, they'll flush the fox soon,' he means..."

"Get on your knees and spread for some doggy style. Mmmm." Gabe hummed as Marisol rubbed her bottom teasingly against his cock and got on all fours in front of him. "And when she says, 'I am full up with your words,' she means..."

"Shut the fuck up and fill me with your beautiful cock, slowpoke!" Marisol wiggled her bottom at him invitingly.

"Slowpoke it is, then." Gabe knelt and placed the head of his cock against her pussy. She whined and struggled as he slid himself into her slowly and back out again, holding her hips to keep her from filling herself too soon.

"Yes," she said, rocking gently, "Finally..."

She shrieked as he thrust into her. The light swirled around them- images of horses and petticoats and rowboats on ponds. Gabe pounded her mercilessly, pouring the tension of days of buildup into fucking his beautiful Marisol.

She squealed and moaned, pushing herself into him, around him, squeezing and thrusting.

Gabe pulled out and turned her on her back. The light from the screen lit her softly. He entered her again, from the front and her eyes widened a little. He said her name, "Marisol," pumping gently at first, her hands on his arms. He sped up until she gasped for breath, while he said her name, "Marisol. Marisol."

Her orgasm came gently at first, teasing her with promise, then it rolled in, pounding her in time with Gabe's pounding, in time with her cries, like the ocean pounding a beach. Gabe grunted and shot himself into her, powerfully, again and again. She shook with the feeling, full of him, moving, sliding against each other under a small shifting sun.

"Sun and ocean," Marisol murmured into his ear as he struggled to catch his breath. "That's what 'Marisol' means. We were the waves on a beach."

"Yes we were." Gabe pulled out of her and tipped his head towards the seats. "I think we're also caught in the act."

A pair of glasses reflected light out of the dark theater.

Marisol's eyes got wide. "What do we do- run for it?"

Gabe shrugged. "Let's take a bow. Then we can get your clothes from the back, then we can run for it."

Marisol smiled, "Okay."

----

By the time they arrived at Beth's house, Anthony was as hard as he had ever been. It had been difficult to read Summer's reactions to the car's magic. She had spent most of the ride twisted around, facing the back of the car. He thought he had heard her moaning once or twice. Beth had let loose though, once she thought he couldn't hear her. He guessed she had a continuous orgasm for the last three minutes on the freeway. She was eloquent in cursing the fact that she didn't live down in Fairview.

Beth got out of the car unsteadily. Anthony took the earbuds out of his ears and rolled his window down a few inches to hand the iPod back to her.

"Thanks," he said, "that's a cool playlist. It has a lot of... passion."

Beth smiled awkwardly. "Thank you so much for the ride." She bent down so she could see Summer. "I really appreciate it." Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his window and added her lipstick to his trophies, turned and wandered to her door.

"I'm never being nice to anyone ever again." Summer growled as Anthony pulled away from the curb.

"I thought I caught you digging the ride once or twice. What happened?"

"Well yeah, but she grabbed my hand when she started to come and wouldn't let go. Twisted me all up and I couldn't get the shaking to the right spots."

"I know exactly how you feel. Honestly, this getting everyone else off gig is making me jealous. I'm taking you to my room. On surface streets." He turned on to a boulevard.

Summer slipped her hand over to his crotch and rubbed him gently as he drove. "Okay then," she said, "but I'd love to keep you interested."

He stayed interested.

Anthony parked behind Justin's car. Justin's engine was still running and the passenger door was open.

Summer went to the passenger side, took out Karen's shoes and closed the door while Anthony turned off the car and locked it.

"There's no telling what we'll find inside," Anthony muttered.

"Oh, we know perfectly well what we'll find," Summer said, smiling, "Clothes all the way up the stairs, and unless they suddenly got responsible, they've left the door open."

They picked up the blouse on the porch, closed the front door, picked up the bra on the stairs.

Summer sighed and whispered, "Okay- one last nice thing before I give it up for good. Give me a sec." She left Anthony on the stairs holding half of Karen's clothes. When she came back she had four bottled waters from the fridge.

Justin's door wasn't quite closed and happy sounds were drifting into the corridor. Summer knocked twice, yelled "Housekeeping!", and opened the door far enough to throw two of the the water bottles, the clothes, and the keys into the middle of the room. She slammed the door. There was a stunned silence, then laughter. "Thank you!" drifted out through the closed door.

When Summer turned around, Anthony was standing so close that she ran into him. She breathed deeply and smelled him- the cologne and sweat of him, looked him in the eye and impulsively bit his nipple through his shirt. He grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head in one motion and backed her up against the wall.

Anthony fondled her breasts, enjoying the softness of her skin and the way she responded to his touch. She had pulled his belt off and was unbuttoning his pants. He felt her hand search for his cock through his boxers and give it a loving squeeze, then she pulled those off too.

Anthony hooked his finger into the top of Summer's miniskirt and led her down the hall, he in just his shirt, she in just her miniskirt and panties. In his bedroom, he kissed her and backed her up to the bed. He pushed lightly in the center of her chest and she fell, her hair arranging itself in a halo around her head on his pillow.

"You smell good," Summer cooed, "I loved the smell of your pillow in the darkroom."

Anthony took off his shirt. "It smells like you too. When I'm awake at night I breathe and I think about your pussy grinding my pillow." Anthony was pulling her panties off as he spoke. "Spread your legs."

She felt both excited and shy to be opened to him this way. "Tell me what you're thinking. Tell me I'm beautiful."

Anthony caressed the inside of her thighs with his fingers, then his lips. He kissed her pussy lightly and licked her once.

"I love looking at you. All the delicate folds of you, smooth and textured, dry, moist, sparkling." He licked her again, harder. She squealed and touched his head with the tips of her fingers. "You smell beautiful, like excitement and willingness and lust."

Anthony kissed up her body, and when his cock penetrated her he pushed to the hilt and held her, enjoying the moment, and enjoying the promise.

Summer moved first, a smooth press of her pussy against Anthony's cock and a squeeze. Their rhythm grew, naturally and deliberately. The bed creaked quietly with their movements, and suddenly, as Anthony started to pound her pussy in earnest, one of the legs of the bed started beating the floor loudly in time with his thrusting.

Summer was biting his ear. "Does everything you own..." she gasped, "...get unbalanced at speed?" She licked his shoulder and squeezed his ass.

"Nothing that matters," he said, and kissed her. The room disappeared for him. He was only aware of her mouth on his, her breasts pressing into his chest, her fingernails making burning paths across his back and buttocks, her pussy, wet and strong and needy, squeezing him, sucking him in over and over.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and came. Summer felt the rhythm change and it turned a switch on. Suddenly she was riding uncontrollably towards her own orgasm. She was vaguely aware of the screaming escaping from her throat. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she squeezed him hard. She rocked and pushed and squeezed against his hardness inside her. The electricity running through her seemed to go on for hours, carrying her out of the room and over the house, and finally, descending again, letting her down gently. She found herself back on his bed again, his eyes sparkling down at her. He kissed her and smiled. "I broke my mug full of pencils when I came." He kissed her again. "You broke my lamp."

----

Amala loved the way Steve looked at her. He kept sneaking peeks at her breasts, and grinning when she caught him. He wanted to see her from every angle, in every kind of light.

"The darkroom was all your idea, wasn't it?" Steve asked, putting a hand on her thigh.

"Well, I sort of planted the idea, yes," she said, grinning, "and the girls just ran with it."

"You deserve a prize. Let's find a podium somewhere so I can present it to you."

Amala's eyes sparkled. "I made one last little arrangement. You remember the masseuse?"

"He scared the shit out of me. Of course I remember him."

"He knows everybody at the mall. He pulled some strings and got me this." She held up a funny looking key. "It opens one of the stores."

"The stores are all open. It's the middle of the afternoon."

"Not all of them." Amala took Steve's hand and led him toward the main hall.

The sign said "Bedding on a Winner" and the display windows were covered in mall logo paper. A sign on the door said, "For Lease."

Amala opened the door with her key. "They went out of business a couple of weeks ago."

Steve followed Amala into the dark store and when she flipped the light switch he laughed in amazement. In the center of the empty store, lit up by a pool of warm light, was a bedroom. A king sized bed covered in a feather comforter flanked by end tables with lamps.

"I knew I wasn't going to be able to wait until I got you into my room and I didn't want to end up in a broom closet. At least, not this time." She felt Steve come up behind her and wrap his arms around her. She pushed her breasts into his hands as he ran them up her body.

"You were nervous on Monday," Steve said as he caressed her, "and you didn't want to let me hear your voice. I want to hear your voice now. Tell me exactly what you want."

Amala turned her head towards him. "Kiss me."

Steve leaned forward to kiss her and she stopped him. "I changed my mind. Get me out of these clothes. I'm done waiting."

Steve took off her sweater and skirt and had to chase her to the bed to get her panties off. She sat on the edge of the bed, naked, breathing hard as he took his clothes off. "Lick me- gently. Tell me how I taste."

Steve kissed Amala's pussy and licked softly once, twice. He closed his eyes, kept licking.

"Curry?" she gasped, between strokes, and squealed when he shook his head, his nose grazing her clit.

"Cucumber," he murmured into her folds. She would have laughed, but she was having trouble organizing her breathing.

"I... want you... in me now. Now!"

Amala backed across the bed and Steve followed her, his mouth catching her nipple as he moved up her body. He slid into her easily and stroked in and out of her, smoothly, as he kissed her neck, her chin, her mouth. The smell of her hair drove him wild.

"Don't stop... Oh, don't stop..." She gasped as he thrust into her, "Lean down a little. Don't stop..."

Steve lowered his face to her shoulder and kissed it just as he felt her teeth touching his own shoulder. He could feel her fingers starting to dig into his back and her pussy squeezing down against his hardness.

"Nnnnn," Amala groaned into his shoulder as she rocked with him, against him, her teeth grazing his skin and tightening a little each thrust.

"Do it." Steve growled at her. "Do it. Bite me when you come." He sped up, pounding her pussy fast and hard. "Bite me."

Amala felt the glow start in her pussy and it flashed into an orgasmic flame. She felt the shocks running through her body, flushing the skin of her face and she felt Steve grunting and coming inside her, his body filling hers in a perfect rhythm.

She didn't remember having actually bitten his shoulder, but when she finally opened her eyes she saw a tiny drop of blood where her teeth had been.

Steve kissed her. "I'm glad you chose me."

"Me too," she said. "Now do me from behind."

Steve laughed. "Give me a minute."

"Okay then," she said, sitting up, "you'll find a basket of apples and water under the bed. I want one of each."

"You thought of everything," Steve said, as he grabbed some apples and water. In the very bottom of the basket he found a bag of cotton balls and two pairs of chopsticks.

----

Dieter looked at Marie Marthe sitting next to him on the bench seat of his old Nova. She was a force of nature with her hand on his thigh and he was driving her... he didn't know where.

"How do I get to your room?" Dieter asked.

"We live close to your house. I will tell you from there."

"You left without your dress last night. How did you get home?"

"I walked. I was with my friends and I could still taste you. I did not feel exposed."

"You're completely amazing. I guessed you must have done that, but I didn't realize you lived close enough to walk."

"Yes, we arranged it that way. It has worked very well."

Dieter wasn't sure what that meant, but he was distracted when Marie Marthe laid her head on his lap and curled her feet up on the seat. She looked comfortable and, briefly, vulnerable like a child.

Dieter caressed her face as he drove "You're completely uninhibited, like a little girl that raises her dress over her head. It doesn't matter to you what people think should be covered, and it doesn't occur to you to be embarrassed." He let his hand wander to her breast and she touched the back of his hand as he touched her.

"I have nothing to be embarrassed about." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Your touch is right."

As Dieter approached the guys' house, Marie Marthe spoke without raising her head from his lap. "Drive to the corner, turn right, and turn right again. Our house is the white one on the right."

Dieter laughed. "Are you serious? You live across our back fence." He parked.

"Sometimes I can see you from my window. We made a hole in the fence to walk through this week. I will show you later. Come to my room now."

Marie Marthe's room was a large attic room, full of light and decorated in shades of white in dozens of different textures. Dieter stood in the door, taking in the sight as Marie Marthe faced him.

"I like having you here." She dropped her dress on the floor and walked to the bed, comfortable in her own space. "Look how my skin looks against the white," she said, lying down on her bed, looking at the dark skin of her wrist.

"You look like you could set the whole house on fire." Dieter took his shirt off as he crossed the room and looked down at her. "You look like an African princess, a black jewel set in white." He took off his pants and his boxers. He took his time laying down between her legs. "Are you ready?"

Marie Marthe nodded, looking in his eyes, then whispered, "You cannot hurt me." She wrapped her arms around him.

Dieter placed his cock at her opening and pushed gently until he met her resistance. She was very wet. Her eyes never left his. Her hands cupped his ass, pulled on him and he responded, pushing more forcefully. Marie Marthe sucked in a quick breath, then another and pulled on him again. He pushed hard, watching her eyes widen as the resistance inside her stretched, then gave way completely. Dieter slid his cock into her slowly, feeling her pussy change and stretch with each bit of progress until he was all the way in. He saw her every sensation in her eyes. Her fingers clutched his ass and she whimpered as she buried her face in his shoulder.

"Stay there..." she said, "I am full of you. I want to stay full. Just stay..."

Dieter held still, suppressing the urge to move. She was tight, but he was surprised to feel her experimenting with him- she squeezed him even more tightly with her pussy and tried moving left and right a little. He kissed her just under her ear and she nuzzled her head closer to him. He kissed her there again, then a little lower on her neck. He kissed her lips, then she looked in his eyes again.

"Empty me and fill me again. Slowly."

Dieter pulled back, fractions of an inch at a time, until just the head of his cock was inside her, then he pushed in again, at a snail's pace. As he pushed, Marie Marthe's face changed. He could still the anxiety of pain, but he could see a new understanding growing that was overwhelming the pain.

"This is good," she said, closing her eyes, "You are very good. Fill me."

Dieter pushed all the way in, a little faster, and stopped.

"Yesss." Marie Marthe's breathing was coming faster now. "Please yourself with me. I want to feel you enjoy my body."

Dieter felt her squeeze his cock twice, and he started stroking, very slowly at first, but speeding up gradually, as she encouraged him. He bent his head down and licked her right breast, nibbled her nipple, switched to the other breast, always moving in and out of her. She responded- arching her back and pushing her breasts into his mouth, holding his head in her hands, whispering to him.

"Come now, Dieter," she said, "Come fill your beautiful African princess. Don't hold yourself back. We'll set the sheets on fire. We'll burn down the city. Ohhh that's... sweet... do it harder."

Dieter's face flushed and picked up his pace. Marie Marthe started to squeal with his thrusts. She squeezed him and rocked with him. She dug her nails into his back and whispered in French and then spoke aloud something else completely, something more elemental, a language made for yelling across rivers, for spurring on lovers.

The words were nonsense to Dieter, but their effect was to push him relentlessly toward his orgasm. Suddenly he stiffened and came and Marie Marthe felt him shudder, hardening and shaking inside her, and when he said her name she came too with an abandoned cry.

"Stay in me," she said, her voice rough, "Don't leave me empty." So Dieter stayed as he softened, playing with her hair as she taught him dirty words in her first language.

Finally, after her pussy, despite her efforts to keep him in, had squeezed his soft cock out, she smiled and said, "I have bought a gift for you."

----

Summer woke Anthony up in the late afternoon with a kiss to his chin and a casual comment. "Someone's tearing down the fence."

"Let 'em." Anthony murmured without opening his eyes. "We have to move out anyway. Bastard landlord can fix the damn fence."

"Let's go see." Summer wrapped a sheet around herself and picked her way carefully through the broken glass on the floor to the window. "It's Dieter. He's tearing down your back fence."

Anthony joined her at the window. "That's weird. He's smiling. Friday must have short-circuited the big guy. Our neighbors are going to be pissed." He pulled on some clothes and headed for the stairs.

"Hey Dieter," Anthony approached cautiously, watching for nails sticking out of boards, "What are you doing?"

"We're having a barbecue tonight." He said, and then, as if to clarify, "to celebrate."

"With our soon-to-be extremely pissed off neighbors?"

"They invited us."

Summer walked up behind Anthony and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Your week is about to get kind of weird. Look up there- in the attic window."

Anthony saw a black woman watching Dieter calmly through the window. She was naked. "Uh..." he stammered.

Summer whispered into his ear, "That's Marie Marthe. She's a friend of mine. Yours too. That's Friday." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the ruined fence. "Come on," she said, "I'll show you my room."

"You live here? Right behind our house?" Anthony sputtered. Summer was dragging him through the front door.

"Yes." Summer said. "This is going to sound kind of weird. We had our eyes on you guys a few weeks ago, and suddenly one day Marie Marthe, you know- Friday- she came into the place we were living and told us she had bought a house to make our job easier. She said she could afford it and she wanted us to move in with her, and you don't disagree with Marie Marthe. So we did a lot of screaming and hugging, then we moved in."

Anthony was reeling. "When she said her dad was rich, I didn't realize... and... oh no! She bought the house right behind the one our bastard landlord sold out from underneath us."

"I know. She bought your house too. Your bastard landlord was supposed to keep his bastard mouth shut," Summer scowled. "Ruined your day. Bastard. But I made it better, right? Anyway. This is my room and that's my bed. I hope you like it because this is where I'm going to fuck you before the barbecue."

Anthony's eyes were crossed and he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. "So Dieter is tearing down the fence..."

"For the barbecue. To celebrate."

Anthony was confused. But he wasn't so confused that he didn't know what to do when Summer crawled onto her bed and wiggled her ass at him.

Darkroom... College girls plan to appreciate guys in the dark (Complete)

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth

Dane Stalling

Super-Earth