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Lesbian Erotica

By Cherry Black
Never Leave Me Alone
Bad, Rhonda


By JT Langdon
Blind Date
Hocus Pocus


By Jean Roberta
Focal Point
My Indentured ...
Sword And ...
A Stiff Neck
Eclipse


By Robert Buckley
The Magic Lesbian
Dreamer


By Teresa Lamai
Small Dance
Envy


By William Dean
Daddy T
Amaryllis


Note to Self
by Geneva King

Girls' Night Out
by Giulia Cosentino

The Investigation
by J.T. Benjamin

The Memoir
by J.Z. Sharpe

Janine Chronicles
by Nicholas M.

Penny Red
by Remittance Girl

The Problem of Leather
by Roxy Katt

Taste of Jessica
by TD Fallon

My Dark and Empty Sky
by Teresa Wymore

Radiance
by Tulsa Brown


Transgender Erotica

Challenger Deep
by Kathleen Bradean

The Boys Upstairs
by Beth Vox © 2005



She walks along the barren hall. There is no sound. Fluorescent lights flicker. She tries one door, then another but all are locked. Panic rises in her gut. On and on down the hall, each door refuses to yield.

"Murrrp?" She looks down into the bright green eyes of a large orange tabby cat. A fragile calm engulfs her. After winding around her ankles, the cat slides one last time along her leg and walks a short way down the hall. It turns to look at her and walks on. She follows.

She looks ahead. Light of a different hue spills into the hall. She watches as the cat walks in.

She approaches the open door. She peers in and then, paralysis. She wills her foot to flex, her knee to bend, her hip to engage the stride. She feels her muscles activate, but there is no movement.

The door is open and she sees them. One stands, gesturing for her to enter. The other sits on a couch, smiling invitingly. She wants to get in that door. Frustration and longing start to well up in her chest. She tries to speak, but she canít . . .

Leslie woke with a start, a light film of sweat coating her. Her heart was pounding hard.

"Shit!" She tried to shake off the anxiety the dream provoked. "Where did that come from?"

She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to pee. She sat in the dark, pulse still racing, struggling with imprecise images.

"Wait," she paused, mid wipe, "I know those guys!"

They lived upstairs and they were hard to miss. Each was strikingly handsome, cheerful and accommodating. They always held the door open for her.

One time she surreptitiously checked the apartment number on their mail box, apartment 407. She recalled that she couldnít figure them out. Were they roommates? Were they lovers? These were mysterious boys. Obviously the mystery had penetrated her unconscious mind and caused a fire storm.

She went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. The clock read 5:30 am. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep now. Leslie sat at her kitchen table, listening to the hiss and crackle of the kettle as it began to boil. She cradled her head in her hands, her fingers absently tangled in her long brown hair, and stared blankly at the table top.

The dreamís after shock continued. It sat in her mind and her body like that stray cat she often found on her first floor windowsill. The cat was a lovely creature with orange stripes and green eyes. She recognized it as the cat in the dream. It looked at her, like cats do, daring her to take the next step. "Meeeeooow, a little milk, a little salmon . . . we could be frrrrrrrriends."

Sheíd often thought of welcoming it. But something stopped her. She didnít know if she could trust its intentions.

The dream offered something too. Leslie had been desperate to get in that door. She wanted them. Thinking of it jacked up her anxiety but the anxiety did not completely erase her arousal.

She felt that something had shifted inside of her. This wasnít part of her expected reality. This was something other.

The kettle whistled shrilly and she shook herself out of her head. She brewed her tea and prepared to face her day.

*                *                *


Leslie wasnít at the top of her game that morning and the afternoon was no better. It was difficult to concentrate on her clients. She suppressed the dream but couldnít banish it. While she listened to the women she counseled pour out their hearts, traumas and miscellany, the handsome and gentle expressions of the boys remained in her mindís eye. She wondered about their names, their jobs and their hands. Were they the rough and calloused hands of trade workers and artists or the softer hands of office workers and poets? Were their chests smooth or covered in soft curls? How might each kiss her? Would they? Would she?

The fantasy invaded like an enchanted vine. It reached into every part of her consciousness and couldnít be subdued. It made her squirm in her chair. Nothing had ever made her squirm in her chair like this.

Normally, Leslie finished work at 5:00 pm but today, it was her turn to work late. At 7:00 pm she bolted from the office, eager for air and sanity. She rode the subway home exhausted and rattled.

When she emerged to street level, she took a deep breath. The night was cool and the street smelled of freshly turned earth and car exhaust. It was springtime in the city.

At 32 years old, she was self-sufficient and accomplished. She had friends, mostly married. She dated occasionally but not voraciously. The women who crossed the threshold of her office would give up limbs to have her life. She tended to their scarred souls with openness and empathy. She was content; at least, she had been content.

But, tonight, she was restless. Maybe it was the scent of spring and the feeling of the earth rumbling back to life. She felt it somewhere deep down in a place that didnít speak to her often. She felt a tingle in the skin on the back of her neck. What if . . . what if . . . she did something really crazy . . . just once? What if there was something more inside her? The rumbling suddenly felt more like hunger. Hunger for dinner was part of it but there was hunger for something else that she only just considered naming.

She started to walk by the local pub on her way to her apartment and stopped. There was nothing in her fridge. One hunger could be immediately assuaged. She entered and sat down at the bar.

"What can I get you?" She looked up from the menu to see one of the boys from upstairs, smiling.

"I . . . uhhh . . ." She looked wordlessly into his beautiful, now slightly bemused face. She found her voice. "A pint of Upper Canada, please."

"Coming up." He shifted over to the tap and poured a pint into a chilled glass.

When he returned, his smile was warmer. "Do I know you?" He looked at her thoughtfully and continued, "Oh yeah, youíre in apartment 101." He reached out his hand. "Iím Jeffery."

"Leslie." She took his hand. His skin was soft.

"Iíve seen you around a few times, but Iíve never seen you in here. Itís nice to meet you, finally." He was adorable. Leslie scoured her brain for something else to say.

"Yes, well, I usually eat alone." Oh, Christ. That was a winner statement. She felt the blush moving up her neck. Quickly she added, "You have a roommate right?"

"Yup, Cameron. Heís been my best friend since we were ten." He rolled his eyes. "Weíve been roommates for three years. Itís a wonder I havenít killed him yet."

Leslie noticed that he used her word, roommate. Maybe they werenít gay. Then again, maybe he just let her assume what she wanted.

"So are you the neat one or the messy one?" The joke was lame but at least she was talking.

He laughed. "Neither. We are both a little of this and a little of that." Then he winked at her and went to serve another customer.

She ordered a grilled fish platter with salmon, swordfish and tiger shrimp, seasoned with olive oil and sea salt. It was excellent. Jefferyís service was very personal. She ordered another pint and then splurged on ice cream for dessert. She didnít remember the last time she had such a decadent meal.

"How long have you lived in the building?" Jeffery startled her with his question. She was just finishing the last bit of her ice-cream. She looked up at his face. The buzz in her head softened her defences and the dreamís presence in her reemerged. This time, the flush on her neck was not from embarrassment.

"Five years. How about you?"

"Three years. Cameron and I moved in when we got back from university. I was in Montreal and he was in Kingston." There were only a few people left in the pub now. Leslie looked at her watch and was shocked to see it was 11 pm.

He continued, "We thought it would just be for a year or so . . .but, here we are, still going."

Again, Jefferyís statement was ambiguous. She could not get a read on this guy.

He looked up and smiled. "Here comes Cam now," he waved, "Over here bud!"

Cameron slid onto the bar stool next to Leslie. He was dressed in a business suit and the subtle scent of his cologne wafted over her as she turned to look at him. She could see he had broad shoulders underneath the jacket. His eyes were chocolate brown.

"Cam, this is Leslie, you know, the girl in 101." He gave Cameron a smile that she could have sworn contained something knowing.

"Hey there. Nice to meet you." They shook hands. The chocolate eyes sparkled.

Her head swam just a little bit more. "Did you just get off work?" she asked.

"Oh boy, it was some day down there. People freaking out left right and centre. Weíre launching in a week."

"Launching what?"

"A new magazine." He had a strange expression on his face.

"What kind is it?"

"Umm . . ." He looked up at his friend.

"Tell her dude. If you canít even talk about it, how can you expect to sell it?" Jeffery started to laugh.

"It caters to an alternative community," he said. She could see a blush starting to creep over his face.

"What kind of alternative are we talking about?" He was awfully cute, embarrassed as he was. She really needed to find out now. Maybe it would solve the mystery of their sexuality.

"The BDSM community." He looked at her sideways, waiting to see her reaction.

"Oh. Interesting." He was very interesting indeed. Then she wrinkled her brow. "Why are you wearing a suit?"

"Oh, this thing?" He looked down, "I was meeting with advertisers today, trying to convince them that if you have enough money to buy a five hundred dollar leather harness, you have enough to buy nice cars."

Instead of clearing up the mystery, they deepened it for her. Just because he was working for a magazine that catered to kink, didnít mean he was into that. Even if he was, it didnít mean Jeffery was. It did nothing to clear up their sexual identity for her either.

"What do you do Leslie?" Jefferyís voice drew her attention. His eyes were grey-green with long eyelashes. She felt heat flash over her body.

"Iím a counselor with a womenís organization. We help women transition out of shelters and back into the work force."

"That sounds tough. Do you find it hard not to take it home?" Cameronís edible chocolate gaze caressed her face. She was sure she saw him check out her tits.

"You get used to it. I just help them help themselves. Lots of these women never had anyone believe they were capable." Her pulse was pounding. She felt sandwiched between these two beautiful pairs of eyes. "I donít rescue, I just facilitate." It was ridiculous. The conversation wasnít even sexual but she felt the tension in her body. She was getting wet just sitting near them. Damn pheromones!

"You must be pretty intuitive, I guess." Cameronís eyes continued to glide over her. They lingered on her face and seemed to be acquiring information.

"I can be . . ." She tried to flash a demure but inviting smile of her own.

"Can you read my mind, Leslie from 101?" The chocolate browns narrowed playfully. He leaned his elbow on the bar.

She didnít stop to think before she said, "If itís anything like whatís going on in my head, this could be an interesting evening."

Oh God! What was she doing?

Cameron looked up to his roommate. "What do you think, Jeff?"

"I think Leslie from 101 is coming on to you, Cam."

He turned back to her, "Is that true Leslie?"

"Um . . . I donít think I really know what Iím doing." She giggled nervously. Was it the beer? She needed to get out of there. "Iíve got to get to work early tomorrow so I think Iíll call it a night." She fumbled in her purse for her wallet.

"Hey, Iím sorry," said Cameron, "I didnít mean to freak you out like that."

"Iím not freaked," she lied, "Iím just tired."

"Sure, okay." He looked a little sad but she couldnít worry about his hurt feelings right now. She needed air and perspective.

"Do you like hockey?" asked Jeffery.

"Sure, I do," Leslie replied while putting on her coat.

"Come by tomorrow for the game, if you want. I promise Iíll give Cam a good talking to. Heíll be better behaved." Jeffery reached over and whacked his friend on the side of the head.

"Thanks . . . Iíll see. Bye then." She walked quickly out the door.

Back at her apartment, she brewed another tea. She sat at the table shaking. There was no way that just happened. It was not possible that a dream could shape reality. She was losing perspective. At best, Cameron was interested. Yet, Jeffery was the one who told her to come back tomorrow. She didnít know what was going on.

Thoughts twisted in her head. It had been a long time, almost a year, since her last relationship. Cameron was attractive and nice. Maybe it was just the dream that made her bolt. She could be reading this all wrong.

She went to bed.

They didnít visit her dreams that night. When she woke up at 6:30 am, she was just a little bit disappointed.

After work, she returned directly home. She did, however, notice the pang between her legs as she walked past the pub.

She took a long shower and ordered pizza. At 7:00 pm, she sat in the living room. Her dinner was finished and she was wearing her housecoat. The orange tabby cat wandered along her windowsill, on his way to what ever cats do on cool damp nights in spring. Maybe he had a date.

There was still time to go down to catch the game.

The pub was much busier this time. As soon as she walked in, dread gripped her. She was alone. She had nowhere to sit and she didnít even know what she was there for. She could have watched the game upstairs.

She turned around to leave just as Cameron walked in.

"Hey!" His face lit up, "You came."

"I . . ." She had no choice now. It was too humiliating to leave. She straightened her shoulders and said, "Yes, I did. Surprised?"

"Very pleasantly. I thought I totally blew it yesterday." He motioned her into the pub and led her to a table that was reserved. She sat on the bench side, looking towards the bar.

"You did." She kept her voice steady as she gave him the most subtle smile she could muster. "I like hockey." She didnít know exactly what she wanted to do with all this but she couldnít resist giving him a little something to chew on. Jesus, flirting was exhausting.

He gave her an amused sideways look. "What are you drinking?"

"A glass of wine would be nice."

"Red or white?"

"Red."

"Coming up." He went up and ordered from the bar tender. It was not Jeffery.

He placed her glass before her and sat down next to her. "I hope you like it. Itís a Cabernet."

She tasted it. "Lovely." She sat straight and turned to him. "Whereís Jeffery?"

"Heíll be along in a bit. Heís cleaning the apartment." He flashed a smile tinged with something she couldnít name. It made her stomach drop.

The game started. He didnít look at it.

"Why did you come here tonight? Really." His voice matched his eyes, liquid smooth.

"I told you, I like hockey." She took a sip of her wine. She might have gulped the entire thing down if she could. Tequila would have been a better choice. "And, I wanted to redeem myself from last night."

"Redeem yourself? I was the forward idiot." He laughed.

"True, but I did lay it out for you to walk into. What did I say? ĎIf itís anything like whatís going on in my head, this could be an interesting evening.í"

"Hey, yeah, what the hell was that about?"

"Oh, I donít know, nothing. . .I guess." She started to blush again. Something in her just kept pushing the conversation to this place she could not even imagine herself going.

"You are very lovely when you blush you know." He turned to watch the game.

Jeffery came in midway through the first period.

"Hey, man! Did I miss any brawls?" He took a double take at the sight of her. "Leslie from 101, what a delectable pleasure." He sat on the other side of her. "Hey! Dominic! A beer!" He hollered at the bar tender.

He turned back to her. "Iím so glad you didnít let my uncouth friend scare you away from us. I really need to teach him manners." He smirked. "Maybe you could do that." He winked.

"Now who is being uncouth?" Cameron reached over and smacked his friend on the head. In the process his arm brushed along her upper back. The sensation was electric.

"Boys, boys," she said, "be good and watch the game."

"Yes maíam," said Jeffery. Then he whispered to her, "I love it when chicks tell me what to do."

Leslie giggled.

She had another glass of wine. They shared chips and wings.

The boys were fun. They were playful. They were intelligent, flirty and a complete enigma. The finished each otherís sentences like lovers but they flirted with her like horny twenty year olds.

Sitting between them was making her insanely aroused. They reached across her to poke at each other often. If the contact with her was deliberate, it hardly seemed so. The effect was undeniable, regardless of the intent.

When the game ended, Jeffery turned and said, "Now what?"

"I have an idea," said Leslie. The energy that swirled around the three of them had taken her over. She felt bold, fearless. Never in her life had circumstances conspired to offer her so perfect an opportunity. If she missed this, it would never come about again, she was sure of it.

"Oooo, Leslie of 101 has an idea," said Jeffery, "Iíll bet itís naughty."

"Jeff, would you cool it." Cameron reached over to smack him again but Leslie caught his hand in hers.

"It is, as a matter of fact. Do you want to hear it?" She looked at Cameron, hoping he could see on her face what was happening in her body.

"Damn right I do," he whispered. He closed his hand around hers and held it gently.

"Why donít we go upstairs?"

"All of us?" asked Cameron.

"The three of us," said Leslie, with the emphasis on the word, three.

"Hell, yes!" said Jeffery, a bit louder than she would have liked.

"Are you sure?" asked Cameron, "I mean, I totally want to, but are you sure?"

"Absolutely." She gulped. Now sheíd done it. Suddenly, the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and put her other hand on the table. Cameron steadied her.

"Hey, are you alright?" She opened her eyes to see his concerned gaze.

"Yes, itís just . . . you know, I donít usually. . ." She left the sentence unfinished. It sounded trite but it was true. She looked up at him seriously.

"Why do it now?" said Cameron.

"Because I want to." And she did. Echoes of dreams and desires long neglected had awakened. She was still the same woman as before but more, deeper, larger. It was time to act.

Jeffery was the first to collect his wits. "Come upstairs with us. We can talk some more about . . . stuff. Itís a bit weird talking down here."

She nodded and they filed out of the pub into the night.

The three of them walked along in silence. Cameron took her hand and held it. "Donít be scared, weíll just talk." He squeezed her hand. "If you arenít into it, no problem."

Jeffery rested his hand on the small of her back. "Leslie," he smiled, "you are beyond cool."

She burst out laughing. The tension release was contagious and they tumbled into the elevator in peals of laughter, poking and tickling each other.

She stood on the other side of the elevator and looked at them. She imagined herself between them in their bed, her skin surrounded by their male bodies. She leaned her head on the wall and closed her eyes. Her pulse raced.

"Leslie?" Cameron asked.

She giggled at them, "Yeah? Donít mind me. I was just thinking about all the . . . stuff."

"That sounds encouraging." Jeffery grinned at her as they walked down the hall to the apartment.

Once they were inside, she took off her coat and sat on the couch.

"Do you want a drink?" Cameron asked.

"No, I think Iíll need my wits tonight." She didnít like to have sex when she drank anyway. It made her feel distant from her body. If she was going to do this, she wanted to know she was all there.

"Sure. That makes sense." He sat down next to her. He smelled so good.

"Iíve got to take a shower," Jeffery announced, "Iíll be back in five. Donít start without me, damn it!" He disappeared into the back.

"Are you okay with him?" Cameronís eyes were serious again.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, heís a bit much sometimes."

Leslie smiled and leaned into Cameronís body as they sat on the couch. "I find him amusingly playful. You guys are a sort of Ďyin/yangí pair."

"Cool. Thatís true you know."

"Can I ask you a personal question, Cam?"

"Of course. Ask me anything you want." He reached over and brushed a bit of hair from her face.

"Are you two . . . you know . . . a couple?" She felt so silly for asking but it seemed relevant for some reason.

"Jeff and me? Oh, man!" He started to laugh.

"Iím sorry, I didnít mean to offend you." She hoped she hadnít just freaked him out.

"Offend me? No, donít worry about that." He took her hand again. "We did have a thing for a while, actually, just to see what it was like. I love the guy, thatís for sure. But we are not meant to be. Weíve been roomies only for a while now."

"So . . . youíre bisexual?" She wanted to know if she was an experiment or something they really knew they wanted.

"Weíre flexible. Gay, bi, straight, those terms are a bit limiting, donít you think?"

"I guess Iíve never really thought about it that way." Cameron was tracing the tendons in her wrist. It was soothing and sensual.

"Iíd love to help you expand your mind. You feel alright about that?" Her pussy was twitching and pulsing. She knew she was wet with anticipation of the delight she might take from them.

"Youíve got condoms and all that, right? I want to be responsible."

"Absolutely." He brushed his lips along her neck.

"If I freak out, I need to be able to leave." Cameronís hand was sliding up her arm. It came to rest on her chest above her breasts and he gently traced a finger down the centre line of her throat, lingering in the triangular space at the base. She moaned. Her eyes closed.

"Climb off me and walk out at any time. But something tells me you donít really want to do that." His hand traveled into her hair. His lips traced her jaw line with feather-like kisses.

She heard Jeffery walk back into the room. "Hell, I knew you guys would start without me." She heard him sprint over to the couch and felt him sit down on the other side of her. She opened her eyes.

He smiled at her with the same inviting look she saw in her dream. She reached up her hand to brush his cheek. Cameronís hand slid out of her hair and down to her breast. She jumped and then sighed, settling back into the couch and allowing herself to sink into the rush that moved over her.

Jeffery leaned down and whispered to her, "You look so hot right now. I love the look on your face . . . so much want. Iíll bet your pussy is soaking wet."

Cameron had worked his hand up her shirt and was playing with her nipple through her bra. Jeffery ran his hand along the inside of her thigh and pressed it between her legs. Her hips arched up to push against his hand. She wondered if she soaked right through her pants.

Jeffery undid her belt and then her button. "Iím going to just check, okay?" Leslie moaned and nodded.

She could hardly believe how easy it was to let these boys touch her. They worked in tandem, every move seemed graceful. The approached her with respect, with reverence. She could feel their want, not just of her body but of her pleasure. She was a part of it, not a plaything. More than anything else, that kept her on the couch, legs spread and head back as Jeffery reached in his hand.

Cameron kissed her lips just as Jeffery slid his hand into her panties, between her outer lips and into a river of wet. As Cameronís warm, sweet tongue explored her mouth, Jefferyís firm, sure fingers explored her pussy. He started at her opening, tracing around the edges. Then he spent time exploring her inner lips, sensitive and swollen. He moved his finger up and around to one side, deliberately avoiding her clit, teasing her, making her wait. She kissed Cameron with a force that she had never used with a man before and thrust her hips up to Jefferyís fingers.

Finally, he slipped his finger along her hard, swollen clit. Her moans were short and breathless and then long and contented as he stroked her with expert circles of his finger.

"Oh my God, you are just as hot as I thought youíd be, Leslie. Cam, lets get her undressed."

Hearing Jeffery talk about her in the third person made her wild. It brought home that she had two men to please her, two men to enjoy. Four hands undressed her quickly and then just as quickly, undressed themselves.

She looked at her boys. Cameronís chest and legs were covered in light brown hair. It curled noticeably around his defined chest. His cock was thick and standing straight up.

Jeffery had darker hair but less of it. His skin was smooth and pale. His erection was also hard to miss.

Cameron said, "Itís too damn cold out here. Letís go to my bedroom." He stood up and held out his hand to her. She took it and then reached for Jeffery with her other hand. They walked to the bedroom.

Once they were under the covers, the boys started to pleasure her again. This time, Jeffery kissed her as Cameron sucked on her nipples. She felt both of their cocks pushing up against her thighs, rubbing on her skin, leaving traces of wetness there. Jefferyís hand pushed along her stomach, heading for her pussy. Cameron slid his hand up her thigh. They met at the nexus. Cameron gently worked two fingers inside her and Jeffery returned to circling her clit. She thought her body would implode. She felt like she was being sucked down into a whirlpool of pleasure from which she could never return. There were so many sensations, so many points of touch.

Jeffery whispered to her, "I can feel how hard you are, Leslie. I can feel the wetness flowing out of you. Weíre going to make you cum soon. Will you let it all go for us, baby?"

"Yes, oh fuck, yes!" was all she could say. Jefferyís narration of her arousal was unbelievably hot. Cameronís fingers were hooked slightly inside her, pushing up, milking hot juice out of her. Jefferyís finger caressed her clit, making her hips twitch. Cameron suckled her nipple and Jeffery put his head to her other breast and began to do the same. She felt the rush begin. "Itís starting . . . please . . ."

She felt Jeffery back off just a little bit. Holy shit. This boy knew what he was doing. He worked to hold her on the edge, every nerve in her body firing at once. She felt her self a single point in space and then . . .

She screamed with the intensity of her orgasm. Her body rose up, strung tight with contraction after contraction. She grabbed their heads in her hands and thrashed underneath them. Jeffery lightened his touch but didnít stop. Cameron continued to fuck her with his finger. She moaned loud and long. It was exquisite.

"You are beautiful when you cum, baby, so beautiful." Cameron kissed her lips and held her head.

She sat up and pushed him down on his back. She got up on her knees and bent over to suck on his cock. She devoured it, licking and sucking with a passion she had never accessed before. It wasnít just because she was grateful for his expert pleasuring. She wanted him. She wanted to taste him. She wanted to feel hot cum in her mouth. She would do what ever was necessary to get it.

She heard him moan and felt him stiffen. She tasted salt from his tip. She opened up wide to take him in, surrounding him with hot lips and slippery tongue.

Jeffery had his hand on her ass, stroking her and massaging her. He kissed the small of her back and leaned over her as his kisses traveled up her spine. She looked at Cameronís face as she flicked her tongue around the purple head of his cock. She smiled and pushed her ass up against Jefferyís body as she took Cameron into her mouth again.

She released him slowly, flicking her tongue along the glans and sucking the head before turning to Jeffery. "Do you want to fuck me, Jeffery?" She knew what the answer was but in the asking of the question, she possessed the act that she invited. There was no pretence here, no niceness. This was animal and beautiful. This was hers. She pinioned him with her eyes and saw him nod as he traced his fingers on either side of her spine. She made him wait a moment and then released him, "So fuck me then." She returned to devouring Cameron.

She heard him rummaging around and then the sound of paper ripping. Suddenly, he penetrated her. It was quick and forceful. The rush shot through her, tingling running up her back, down her arms and legs and pooling back deep inside, where Jeffery now resided. Glorious.

Jeffery started to thrust inside her. She moaned with a mouthful of Cameronís cock. His rhythm was hypnotic. She instinctively matched it with her mouth. Cameron did the same with his hips. The rocking, the moans, nothing else existed in that moment. She sank into herself and fed her hunger. She fucked, sucked, devoured, pleasured and took what was hers.

Cameron came first. His body jerked violently and he yelled out. She let his cum stream onto her neck and chest and she worked him with her hands until he couldnít take it any more.

All the while, Jeffery pumped her from behind. She felt his power and his need. She braced herself on the bed with both hands and arched her back to him. She moaned loudly as he increased his intensity. She allowed herself to connect deeply with the lust he had for her and she rode along with him as, at last, he exploded inside her.

They lay on the bed silently for a long time. Leslie felt the haze lifting from her mind. She listened to them breathe.

She realized they were asleep.

Men were still men regardless of context.

Quietly, she left the bed and the room. She slipped into her clothes and went out the door of the apartment.

As the latch clicked shut, she smiled to herself.

Iíll let them wonder. . .

She returned to her apartment feeling like she occupied the whole universe with her presence. She wondered about her state. There was no shame, not one drop.

So this is what itís like to be me.

The orange tabby meowed outside. Without hesitation, she opened the window and let him in. The breeze was still sweet with spring. The cat entwined himself in her feet.

"Youíll need a litter box, I suppose, Mr. Cat?"

He looked up with his lovely green cat eyes and said, "Murrrrp?"

"I guess youíll be staying, then." She bent down to scratch between his ears, eliciting a loud purr.

 _______
© 2005 Beth Vox.†All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio:† Beth Vox is a respectable woman living in Toronto, Canada. She is a wife, mother of two and psychotherapist. She is also possessed of a wicked imagination. Beth admonishes you not to assume a thing about her or her life. Remember, respectability is a cover for many things. Imagine what it lets her get away with . . . she dares you.


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