Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is the first chapter of a rather epic story that I have roughly
plotted out.  The conceit of the story is the discovery of adult-oriented
material that simply wouldn't be plausible in a modern setting so it is set
circa 1988 or so.  For those worried about certain story elements, there
will be no incestuous contact at any point, a fetish i personally find
squicky but to each their own.  I've already in the editing phase of
Chapter Two and writing Phase of Three so hopefully Two will be up by the
end of this week.  With any luck, I should have new chapters up every 10
days to two weeks ...  hopefully...

   Story Codes - Porn, mutual masturbation, MM & MMF onscreen, solo F and
voy solo M.  Approx 14,000 words.

   Comments - criticism - whatever - shadesofextasy@hotmail.com

   Chapter One of Fourteen (?)

   It wasn't like I had never seen anything like it before.  When I was 14,
I had fortuitously stumbled on my (presumably) father's private cache of
PlayPens and Wildcats stuffed into one of the leather attaché cases he
frequently brought home from work and stashed in a dusty corner behind one
of the workbenches in the basement.  Subsequently I spent countless hours
secreted in my room, gazing in wide-eyed wonder at the glossy airbrushed
pages of those men's magazines, frantically jerking off to the sterilized
version of female perfection before furtively sneaking back down to the
basement to replace them.  But I had never seen anything remotely like what
Ethan showed me in the box he had gotten from under his mother's bed.

   These magazines were hardcore and raw, stuff that showed everything, all
the terrible and wonderful details of the most intimate human flesh, up
close and personal.  The previous pictures of naked women I'd seen before
were pale shadows compared to the image I saw now of a titian-haired beauty
laying back on a bed, one hand cupping her firm, ripe breasts while the
other wantonly rubbed her naked pink slit, the shameless groan on her mouth
silent but made obvious by her gaping mouth and tossed head.  I hadn't
expected anything like this but I found myself utterly enthralled, despite
my self-conscious embarrassment with Ethan right there.  I shifted
uncomfortably on the floor to try and stifle the fluttering in my belly but
couldn't seem to help my body's response, Everything seemingly conspiring
to intensify the heat and excitement building inside me.

   We sat on the floor in profound silence, my hands shaking as we sifted
through the slick pages of lurid photos.  As I examined each pornographic
image, I was very aware of dual tensions mounting within.  There was a
vague but definite sense of trepidation that, combined with the sexual
excitement coursing through me, was a heady mixture.  When I saw my first
truly hardcore shot, a luscious blonde sprawled before a nude man shoving
his big swollen penis into her widely stretched mouth, I don't know if I
was more shocked by the raw lewdness of the image of fellatio or that the
rapturous expression on the model's face seemed genuine as she hungrily
sucked for the cameraman.  Whichever the case, I definitely could feel my
heartbeat quickening and couldn't help but squirm a little bit, my cock
stirring restlessly.  Flipping through the pages, something caught my eye
and I felt myself blush furiously, tingling sensations streaming wildly
downwards at the shockingly prurient pose.  Now a sexy brunette lady was
sitting naked on top of a good-looking man, her eyes half-closed and her
mouth hung open, as he sent his huge cock far into the creamy recesses of
her gaping pussy.  He had his hands possessively clutching the pale moons
of her curvaceous ass, using the plush globes to lift her high into the air
before he pulled her down on his towering shaft.  The raunchy shot brought
my building erection to full hardness, straining uncomfortably in the tight
constriction of my pants.  I couldn't help but fantasize what it would be
like to fuck in the woman-astride position, my cock penetrating deep into
the slick canal of her juicy pussy.

   Reaching the end of the magazine, I randomly grabbed another and a small
cry escaped my lips as I looked at the photograph.  It wasn't the shot of
the lovely redhead lying on a kitchen table, a handsome male model nestled
between her widely split legs, his pointed tongue stretched forward, its
wet tip probing her vaginal petals that shocked me.  No, it was the second
man, a classically handsome blonde whose sapphire eyes sparkled and whose
lips ovalled around the first stud's cock while his cheeks sucked inwards,
the beefy shaft sprouting outwards ruggedly thick and slick with his
copious saliva.  And although I was ashamed of my instinctual reaction, I
could not stop the delectable ripples of hot desire from coursing through
my electrified body and was achingly aware of the warm trickle of pre-cum
spilling down my achingly throbbing cock.

   Throughout all of this, Ethan and I hadn't said a word and I'd only been
aware of his presence because of the growing realization that both of our
breathing was becoming progressively hotter and faster, more shallow and
more ragged.  I had this idea of nudging him and showing him this picture
that was so intense that it required sharing but was frozen by the
scandalous image he was viewing and it made my own body pound with need. 
The photo he was gaping at was similar to mine in that it depicted a
big-busted brunette laying on her back, a handsome dark-haired man feasting
on the pink folds, swollen and glistening with the nectar of her arousal,
of her tongue-hungry pussy.  This one also featured a second man only in
this case only now he was on his knees while he rammed the hefty pole of
his oversized cock into the clean-shaven hollow of his male lover's anus. I
knew the taboo image should have disgusted me but the truth was the deep
warmth that had been spreading throughout my loins suddenly ignited into a
seething fire.

   Unfortunately, that was the moment we heard the door downstairs swing
open and heard the telltale sounds that someone had entered the house. 
Flustered and mortified, I sprang to my feet, face burning with shame,
frantically gathering up the smutty magazines.  In my red-faced
humiliation, I did not want to even look at Ethan, but when I dared to I
saw him equally blushing, eyes cast downwards in mortification.  Scrambling
about together, we somehow managed to pick up all the porno mags, shove
everything back into the box and under the bed as we had found it before
scampering back to Ethan's room.  Flushed and breathless, we both jumped
when Mrs.  Lunsford knocked on the door, asking if we boys wanted chicken
wings.

   "Can Sebastian stay over?" Ethan asked.

   Mrs.  Lunsford smiled and I felt that familiar pressure forming in my
chest, whenever I was around her, a cinch seeming to tighten around my
heart.  Ethan had mentioned once she was 44 years old but she still looked
good to me, her hair maybe longer than she usually kept it, but her curvy
body remained just as tempting as when I'd first noticed her.

   Of course, she would never notice me, and I couldn't say I'd blame her.
At that moment, for example, I was flipping through the pages of Player
magazine with the big-haired heavily tattooed Billy Blades, lead singer for
metal band Striped Tiger, on the cover, not the most mature reading
material.  Of course I was also still dressed in the khaki pants, blue
sweater and white button-down shirt that our private school, Saint Thomas,
required.  I hated them ~~ the whole outfit really, the archetypal image of
the conservative Catholic schoolboy, the way it made me look and feel as if
I were twelve instead of eighteen was just degrading.  I usually changed
the minute I got home, but Ethan convinced me to come straight to his
place.

   Mrs.  Lunsford met my eye and gave me a sassy wink.  "Sure, as long as
Marilee says it's okay," she replied.

   There was no problem there.  Not only had me and Ethan been friends
forever, but my parents thought Mrs.  Lunsford was the greatest ~~ a
widowed mother, successful executive at Energetix, neighbor in the same
upper class suburb of Trident Beach, and a fellow parishioner at Our Lady
of Charity Catholic church too!  My father, jokester that he is, would
always begin conversations about her if my mother was around with "If it
weren't for Marilee..." which would inevitably lead to her exaggerated
response of "Oh, you!" Little did they know of the secret stash of
near-blasphemous pornography residing under her bed.

   Of course, until today, I hadn't known either, and I couldn't help but
look at her in a new light.  Her beauty was simple, elegant even, the
bronze tone of her skin complementing the chestnut of her hair, the golden
earrings dangling from her earlobes shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.
She stood in the doorway, one slender leg crossed over the other, the
crisply-tailored yet very feminine skirt she wore creating a teasing shadow
at the apex of her toned thighs, a barest hint of what lay underneath.  But
it was her energy that snared me, the way she went after anything and
everything with such fervor, and knowing one of her deeper secrets, I
imagined the zest she would show fingering herself while looking at those
nasty photos.  The sensuous thought made my body respond immediately ~~ my
cock, still surging from looking at those pictures, pulsed hot and hard.

   My mom laughed when I asked if I could stay the night, asking when in
the hundred times I'd stayed over at the Lunsfords she'd ever said no, and
when Ethan explained to his mother that he wanted me to sleep over because
we had to prepare for a major Chemistry Laboratory assignment the next
week, she readily agreed.  After all, the two of us had grown up together,
pretty typical little boys.  We weren't the "Holy Terrors" that my older
sister claimed we were, but we weren't angels, either.  We had gotten into
our share of close scrapes and relatively minor trouble, but through it
all, there was one thing that we could count on and that was each other.  I
always had Ethan's back, and he had mine.  There weren't too many days that
we didn't spend together.  There were even damned few weeks where we didn't
at least one night together, sleeping at one or the other's house.  In
fact, that's exactly how our parents kept us in line.  The mere threat of
not being allowed to see each other was enough to stop whatever behavior
that our parents found offensive and that we usually thought was fun.

   Of course the Chemistry excuse had been a mere ruse and the two of us
were up until well after midnight, spending less time discussing
hydrophilic versus hydrophobic interactions and more time discussing
sports. Pop Warner, CYO, Little League, junior varsity and finally varsity
~~ you name it, we played it.  It seemed like Ethan and I couldn't think of
anything better than running around, sweating our asses off, trying to be
the best there was at whatever sport we were involved in.  At first, it was
perfectly natural for Mike and I to take baths and showers together when we
were growing up.  We saw each other naked a lot and didn't think anything
about it.  It changed when we got to be about eleven or twelve, both of us
getting real shy with each other.  But with the advent of high school in
general, and inter-school sports in particular, we once more adjusted to
being naked in front of each other and other guys before and after football
practice when we changed into or out of our uniforms, or when we showered.
We never did go back to taking showers together when we were sleeping over
at each other's houses, but gone was the shyness between us and casual
nudity was an accepted rule.  And so it was not surprising that our
discussion would naturally turn towards sex.

   "So ... how long have you known about your mother's collection?" I
asked, pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms to sleep in as we were getting
ready for bed.

   Ethan flashed a bright grin at me, casually twisting over on the tangled
sheets his bed.  "Oh, I dunno.  A month, maybe?"

   "A month?" I gaped, half-hurt that he hadn't confided in me earlier.

   "Yup," he replied, waggling his eyebrows.  He yawed a big yawn, then
shoved his books off the bed with a bare foot.  He always was a bit of a
slob.

   "Doesn't it make you..."

   "Horny as hell?" He laughed.  "Yeah!  Duh!  I usually jerk off ...
either that or see if Erica is willing to come over.  "

   I stared at him, a twinge of jealousy shooting through me.  "Still with
her `under the bra, over the panties' rule?" I asked somewhat snipishly.

   "Nope!" His triumphant tone declared a revelation was coming.  "The
Congress of We passed an amendment.  As of yesterday the new rule is now
`Fingers and tongues for both!'"

   "So does that mean that..."

   "Nope," he replied, somewhat crestfallen.  "Even in the heat of the
moment she still says no.  She's still a virgin."

   I burrowed deeper into the sleeping bag Mrs.  Lunsford had retrieved for
me from the hall closet, trying to grasp the rather twisted logic that
allowed Erica Galvano to reconcile the fact that not only had Ethan
fingered her sweet and juicy but that he'd also stuck himself tongue deep
in her vajay-jay and her steadfast belief that she was still a virgin.  I
imagined there were probably some deeply self-deluded woman out there who
had gotten triple-banged by football players, all holes filled by the
entire defensive line, but justified that since none of them he had
actually cum in her pussy, her chastity was intact.

   Of course it was all theory for me.  The most I had ever done was taste
Tilly Van der Schyfe's plump and tasty nipples during a particularly heated
makeout session, a puritanically chaste sexlife that I had heard rumors was
the actual primary reason she had broken up with me the week beforehand. 
It wasn't that there hadn't been opportunities before.  A few months
earlier, at the annual Fourth of July party the Pricewater's held at their
sprawling estate, a tipsy Melissa Rockingham had practically begged me to
let her suck my cock.  I'd turned her down, confused my illogical reasoning
that I'd seen Mrs.  Lunsford fifteen minutes earlier, wouldn't I be
humiliated if she'd seen me.  I'd thought it wise to neglect mentioning it
to her son...

   Ethan turned off the light.  "So, which one was your favorite?" he
asked, his baritone smooth as always.

   I did not have to ask him what he meant.  "There was the one that showed
the two girls with the one guy." The concealing darkness had made me bolder
...  but not that much bolder.

   "Oooh, yeah," he murmured.  "Where he's on his back, licking one, and
the other, a small-titted blonde, is riding his cock?"

   I flushed, even hidden as I was in the shadows, hearing him say the
words, feeling myself growing restless as a familiar warmth steal slowly
across my pelvis.  "Yeah..."

   "I love seeing those ones with two guys and a girl, too," he breathed
huskily.  "Seeing her suck on a guy while she's getting fucked ... I'd love
to know what that's like."

   The tension from both the earlier unnamed apprehension that had now
resurfaced coupled with a fierce arousal that had never been sated became
simply unbearable.  My body burning with that luscious need, I gave in to
temptation, stealthily slipping my hand over my chest and down my upper
torso.  Though I'd been biting my lip, heard my own short panting gasps and
twisted my buttocks on the floor when my hand slipped over my pajamas,
cupping my swelling penis through the flimsy fabric.  I froze at the
unexpected advance and recovered enough to restrain my own wrist from
fondling myself, the fact my primally instinctive actions were nearly
beyond my rational control frightened me a little but thrilled me greatly.

   "I love watching a well-hung guy get sucked," he went on, his voice
impossibly lower, almost gravelly.  "It just makes me remember ... god, it
feels so good..."

   "Does it?" The aching hunger inside me was making me struggle for breath
and the crotch of my pajamas were straining with the swollen bulk of my now
fully engorged erection.  It was pulsing with the dull ferocity of an
untreated toothache.  When I deluded myself into thinking I might be able
to massage the need away, I had to hold my breath for fear that some
tell-tale sound would escape my lips while my very being quivered on its
foundations.  Before that moment I could never have imagined the profundity
of a soft, warm tongue or a steamy, wet mouth licking or kissing my cock,
but now the intriguing thought stunned me, making the blissful sensations
that much more electrifying.

   "Oh my god, Sebastian, you have no idea," he purred.  "I wish I had
Erica's pretty mouth right now ..  her sweet little tongue licking right
here on the tip of my cock."

   My breath caught and in the stillness of the dark I could hear a
susurrant rhythmic sound.  "Are you ... Ethan, are you ...?"

   "Go ahead," he whispered, and I heard that little rhythmic sound
speeding up.  "You know you want to."

   My nerves shattered, my brain dulled almost comatose by the graphic
pornography I'd been near-obsessing over, and my body prickling with sexual
heat, I did want to.  Free from worry by the veil of shadows, I slipped my
hand under the elastic band of my pajamas, past the dense, tangled hair,
seeking my beefy rod.  When my fingers curled around the fleshy shaft, my
lust erupted deep in my belly, loosing a rippling sensuality in the form of
surging heat that inundated me and made my brain revolve dizzyingly.  My
cock was drizzled with flowing pre-cum, allowing my stroking fingers to
move easily, making the same faintly susurrant rhythmic sound that I could
hear coming from Ethan's bed.

   "Mmm, yeah," he throatily murmured.  "God, that's good ... suck my cock,
baby."

   I knew he was imagining it and I fantasized it too, recollecting the
vividly erotic pictures ~~ the good-looking, well-hung stud grabbing the
voluptuous brunette by the hair, forcefully insisting she go down on him
and take his rampaging erection fully in her cock-hungry mouth, her nimble
tongue sliding over the purplish mushroomy glans.  Would it feel as good as
my own masturbating fingers?  I wondered as I thrilled myself with long,
tantalizing strokes.  The sizzling flames that had burst from my tortured
loins now burned nearly all the way through my body and the woolen sleeping
bag tucked around me soon became as sweltering as a sauna.

   "Doesn't it feel good?" Ethan asked in that provocatively low voice.  I
tried to answer him but when eager and desperate mewlings poured from my
lips, I knew coherent speech was hopeless, the pleasure too great.  No
longer able to defy the uninhibited cravings racing wildly through me, I
tossed the sleeping bag aside to my waist, my upper torso all flushed and
hot.  "Doesn't it make you want a sweet, juicy pussy right now?  Ohhh I
want to know what it feels like to fuck ..."

   My breath whistled as I let it out, and the deep burning sensation
firing in my belly grew in intensity.  My body and mind, a twirling,
shattering craze of horniness and torment, reeled as if in a boozy stupor
hearing the metrical susurration growing louder from Ethan's bed.  I
commenced to slowly, squeezingly stroke along the streamlined column of my
pulsating penis in a make-believe of copulation, intensifying the hot,
stroking touch on my aching erection until it had reached an agonizing
hardness.  The shimmering rapture made me spasm with a deep, gurgling in my
throat, feeling no longer like a male human being but a shuddering mass of
lust-maddened, sweating flesh.

   "I want to fuck you ...  Oh God help me, but I want to fuck you so hard
..." he hissed hotly.  I closed my eyes and all I could see was the
close-up picture of a slick, fat cock poised at a wet, pink pussy, the
bulbous glans nestled tauntingly within the plush labial lips flanking a
juicy vaginal hole, waiting to be filled.  By now I had tugged off my
pajama bottoms and was promiscuously writhing in the sleeping bag, reveling
in total, abandoned onanistic bliss, listening to Ethan's equally
uninhibited panting and moaning and the accelerating squeak of the mattress
and box spring.  My own belly danced with lubricious excitement and I
clutched my hot-fleshed cock in a plunging, clenched fist as I started
rolling my lean hips and greedily pumped myself to synchronize with his
quickening pace.  The twin centers of my desire, both my own
malthusianistic pleasures and the taboo excitement that I was sharing in
Ethan's masturbatory joys, drove me on and on.  I rolled my head,
whimpering knowing the climactic end was so near ...  and yet so far.  My
thighs were so painfully taut that they were trembling in their anguish
and, kicking out my legs, I heedlessly threw off the cover of the sleeping
bag.  Heedless of my exposed nakedness I shamelessly undulated in the
darkness, my laboring breath coming as fast as his, consumed by the hot
hungering need scorching my still insatiate cock.

   "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!" Ethan cried, short, staccato grunts and then a sonorous,
guttural cry.  "I'm coming!  I'm coming!"

   Hearing his shuddering breath, his unrestrained cries of supreme ecstasy
brought me rising higher and higher by the second.  Sucking in a ragged
breath, I frantically pounded my steel-hard cock until a tumultuous orgasm
detonated within, jagged bolts of white-hot euphoria stinging and burning
and making me writhe.  Every gush of thick cream splashing onto my heaving
chest and flexing abdominals was mirrored by a geysering plume of radiant
sweetness within.  Even after reaching the crest of the maelstrom, every
nerve nexus seemed hypersensitive and even the slightest sensation of skin
sliding over skin sparked off streamers of heat radiating through me.  I
couldn't remember the last time even my most impassioned self-manipulation
had resulted in an orgasm that strong and that fast.

   We didn't talk as our gasping and panting breathing returned to normal
and our hearts stopped racing a million miles per hour.  Still trembling
from the rampageous force of my spent desire, the last aftershocks of
lascivious arousal ebbing away, I rolled limply over on my side and thought
about what I had just done.  Realizing I was naked and exposed, I hastily
grabbed the cover and drew it over me, feeling embarrassed for giving in to
my basest self-indulgent desires this way and wondering if Ethan shared in
my nagging sense of guilt.  My trembling thighs finally calmed down and I
chastised myself for resorting to such humiliating acts to quell the sex
drives that sometimes overwhelmed my normally proper conduct.  I considered
apologizing to him but I could hear he was sleeping.  Years of sleepovers
made me familiar with that somnolent sound.  Yet I couldn't seem to drift
off and instead I rolled agitatedly in the sleeping bag, fruitlessly trying
to get comfortable on the wooden floor.

   Finally, after a few minutes of mounting frustration, I decided the best
thing to do was take a piss.  I raised myself a bit unsteadily from the
floor and pulled at the cum-moistened sheets to remove them.  When they
came free, I dropped them in a heap on the floor.  I'd forgotten I was
naked but the idea of sorting through the semen-sticky cloth to retrieve
them was unappealing and besides I knew Ethan was asleep.  And so it was I
was in the nude when I padded silently down the carpeted floor if the
darkened hallway.  A faint glow emanated from underneath the doorway to
Ethan's mother's room, but I thought little of it, knowing, as a voracious
booklover, she liked to read in bed.

   Seeing the light beneath her door would usually have sent me back
towards the other toilet, but because they were in the midst of remodeling
Ethan's bathroom, I was compelled to continue on.  The master bathroom was
next to his and had two entrance points, one that you could access from the
hallway and the other connecting directly to the master bedroom suite.  I
always surmised it was the architect's version of a semi-private bath.

   I always felt funny pissing in that bathroom at night, knowing Mrs. 
Lunsford was right on the other side of the door, but I never locked them.
The reason for this was two-fold, the first being that this was not my
house and I felt that I shouldn't deprive the rightful owners of entry but
also it was a tricky old-fashioned push-button locking mechanism that made
a lot of noise when you operated them.  While I was willing to turn on the
light, knowing from previous mishaps that urinating in the dark can lead to
near-calamitous results, I hated the thought of disturbing her more than I
feared getting unexpectedly walked in on.

   Walking towards the toilet, I happened to catch a glimpse of my
reflection in the full-length mirror adjacent to the sink.  First of all,
I'm relatively short, only five-foot-nine, and at eighteen years old, I
realize that my chances of me making it to 6'4 ~~ or even six foot ~~ are
two: none and none.  Add to this I am very slender, about one hundred and
sixty pounds dripping wet with my clothes on.  I do have three very nice
features ~~ one of which I didn't learn about until later.  I have really
nice hair, dark chestnut with red and gold highlights (natural, not dyed),
which I wear long; and, from what I've been told, very beautiful green
eyes. About the color of emeralds, was how they were described.  I also
that I have a great ass, round and bubbled, and I know all this because I
overheard Cindy Orbaker and Clair Roderick talking about the best asses on
the guys in school Oh, there is another one.  It seems I am somewhat gifted
in the cock department.  Nowhere near porno-sized, but on my slender frame
body, a good-sized penis looks enormous.  I was always getting teased about
it.  I remember one particular shower-room joker who used to always say,
"Don't let that thing get hard in here ~~ you'll poke somebody's eye out
with it." This would evoke a lot of laughter, no matter that they'd heard
it a hundred times already.
Turning towards the toilet, I lifted the lid and seat and was about to
let loose the stream when I was startled by a raucous clatter followed by
her voice, low, but clear as could be.  "Oh, shit!" I was genuinely
concerned so I pressed my ear to the door jam.  Hearing muffled sounds but
nothing discernible, I looked toward the millimeters-wide space between the
door and the molding but I could see nothing.  Curiosity warred with
caution as my hand went to the bathroom doorknob, the silver lever cool
against my flesh.  As carefully as I could manage, I slowly and
deliberately turned the handle.  I knew the layout of her boudoir almost as
well as I knew my own ~~ as I said before Ethan and I had been friends
since the first grade and I had spent countless hours at her house.  I knew
that directly on the other side of the door was a little alcove with a
closet, and that the alcove opened up into the larger space of her
bedchamber, where her canopied bed was kitty-corner from the master

bathroom.

   I could see her.  The heavy oaken door swung upon almost soundlessly,
the latch only making the barest scraping rasp, the well-oiled hinges not
squeaking at all.  I could see most of the capacious queen-sized bed, and
across from that, a 30-inch color television set complete with a high-end
VCR machine setting on top of a carved cedar chest.  But it was Mrs. 
Lunsford that drew my eyes first and sent my heart lurching into my throat.
God, she was gorgeous.  A vision of curvy feminine loveliness whose
full-figured beauty was made all the more striking by the very proper
business suit she still wore.  Her hair had been pulled back in a severe
style, but it revealed the flow of her slender neck.  I lowered my eyes
along the suit, and though the jacket was charcoal gray and the blouse
beneath corporate white, both were cut to display the delicious fullness of
her breasts, the tapering curve of her waist as it flared to her
crescent-shaped hips.  The black skirt was appropriately long enough but
tailored to show off her thighs and shapely legs, ending with her adorable
pink polished toes in a chunky pair of high-fashion heels.

   The clamor I had heard was apparently a fallen vase because Mrs. 
Lunsford was dabbing at the porcelain vase with a washcloth and rearranging
the pastel-hued tulips.  She had her back turned and, after turning off the
bathroom light, it allowed me the opportunity to worshipfully admire her.
What was it about her that seemed to draw him?  Women, in my admittedly
amateurish opinion, were far more work than payoff.  It was as though they
were a completely different species I couldn't understand.  But the truth
was I had always gotten a gut punch whenever I looked at her, but seeing
her in her element, a full-grown woman in the intimacy of her boudoir, sent
a pulse straight through my heart and directly to my cock.  My
sexually-energized mind immediately drew up salacious images of her
remarkably soulful eyes filled with erotic pleasure as she lay under me
while I drove fast and furious into her juicy wetness.  Damn if she hadn't
always had that effect on me.

   Setting the vase in its proper place, crushing disappointment settled
upon me when Mrs.  Lunsford began turning off the lights, but hope revived
as she lit several votive and tea candles and scattered them around her
bed. Within a few moments, an intoxicating osmyrrah of jasmine, jonquil and
mulberry wafted through the bedchamber, the dappled shadows about her bed
now suffused with a golden, glimmering glow but leaving the corner I was
shaded in a murky gloom.  She then set down on the edge of the mattress,
pulled the pins out of her hair to allow the dense waves to tumble past her
shoulders and began to brush her locks.  Her mane was her crowning glory,
the physical attribute about her that would make her stand out from the
crowd.  Rich red copper spilling onto her back, her hair has that rarely
seen crimson of legend.  Not unattractively carroty or that blowzy
unripened cherry you get from dyes but vibrant and deep and shimmering.

   Setting the brush aside, Mrs.  Lunsford shrugged out of her suit coat
and lay the garment across a chair, very neatly.  Standing as she was
before a large, full-length dressing mirror, I got a simultaneous front and
back view as she began undressing with the same precise motions.  After
loosening the straps, she toed out of her chunky heels and placed them
carefully among her two dozen other cherished designer shoes, Unzippering
her woolen skirt, she draped it over a nearby hanger for the next trip to
the drycleaners before undoing the pearl buttons on her blouse, one by one.
Her half-slip was white and austere, but once removed it revealed a lavish
satin brassiere embroidered in an intricately frilly froth.

   Like a lowly caterpillar metamorphosing into a majestic butterfly, Mrs.
Lunsford had transformed from a relatively plain Jane to a sultry diva in
only a matter of moments.  The severe cut of her corporate attire had
masked the sensual beauty but it was now brought out by the slinky
lingerie, the voluptuous fullness of her beautiful breasts straining
against the flimsy bra, her nipples making prominent bulges against the
diaphanous fabric.  With her arms straight up over her head, she arched her
back and stretched, cat-like, as if she were getting the kinks out.  The
motion caused her creamy bosom, already a little too large for her bra, to
jut out and well up over the low-cut cups, dusty-rose nipples barely
visible at the lacy rims, a delectable feast of feminine flesh for my
appreciative eye.  She was all woman, from the small feminine paunch at her
belly, to the curve of her hips, even the gentle slope of her thighs all
cast in light shadows and dark contrasts.

   After her stretch, Mrs.  Lunsford got a dreamy look in her eye, biting
her lower lip in an adorable way.  She then gave a strangely girlish
giggle, pirouetted on her bare feet and skipped over to the VCR.  Pressing
the play button, she then scampered over to her bed.

   I knew from the very moment it started this was unlike any movie I'd
ever seen.  It began in mid-scene and consisted of a single man, short,
sandy blond hair, smoky gray eyes, well-tanned, in his early 20's, laying
in a pile of pillows heaped on a floor.  I figured I was secure enough in
my own masculinity to recognize and appreciate his apparent male beauty. 
Now, I'd seen many men in my life and I'd even seen quite a few naked.  But
I'd never seen a man naked and aroused and I found I couldn't take my eyes
off that guy's huge penis, so heavy that it bowed toward the wide slash of
his navel.  Kneejerk emotions of disgust and revulsion warred with
curiosity and fascination as I watched the stud take his enormous hard-on
in hand and run his curled fist up and down the fleshy column, gently at
first.  I willed my eyes to close, my head to turn, but found that I just
couldn't and watched wide-eyed as he spat in his hand and used the natural
lubrication to up the rhythm as he gripped tighter, closing his eyes to the
ascending bliss.

   From off-screen, a second man appeared, younger, with what I bet was
perpetually tousled, curly black hair, dark puppy-dog eyes, a more muscular
build, and equally naked and horny.  His erection wasn't nearly as long as
the blonde's, but it was substantially thicker and so hard and heavy that
it moved slowly with each step he took.  Gaping in wide-mouthed
incredulity, I stared at the screen as the dark-haired man climbed onto the
cluster of pillows and crawl towards the blonde, his weighty scrotal sac
swinging between his legs.  From the camera angle, I could see the actor's
tight butt as he playfully made his way toward the other guy.  I'd never
before understood the appeal of male asses before, but on seeing his, each
bun pleasingly plump but delectably firm, the deep cleavage between hiding
a shadowy mystery, I began to grasp the physical attraction.

   Believe it or not, it didn't occur to me exactly what these two naked
men were going to do before the dark-haired one straddled the blonde's
body, set his hands on the bed on each side of the other man's well-defined
chest, then leaned forward and take his mouth with his own, affectionately
tracing it with his tongue before gently sliding inside.  Before that
fateful day, the only time I'd ever seen homosexual sex was in the context
of the inhuman brutality and malignant trauma of prison rape.  I'd never
even imagined the level of intimacy I witnessed as they soulfully kissed
and when the camera panned downwards, I found myself fantasizing about what
one of those big penises would feel like as they gently touch.  The skin
would be silken soft, but the shaft would be granite hard, two massive rods
nudging each other.  My religious upbringing made me rebel, to close my
eyes to such obscenity, but the picture was even more vivid, etched deeply
in my brain.  My own cock began to instinctually respond as I internalized
that most sensuous of caresses, a foreign feeling to have another man's
body so close, so loving, but I found myself inexorably drawn to the idea
of that wicked pleasure nonetheless.

   Opening my eyes languorously, I saw the darker man flicking one of the
blonde's pebbled nipples with his twirling tongue while impishly squeezing
the other between his thumb and forefinger while impishly squeezing the
other between his thumb and forefinger, making his partner lift off the
pillows while pleasure raced through him.  I silently rose up from the
crouching position I had been in in time with Blondie as I watched the
scene unfold.  My whole body clenched as the dark-eyed guy backed up,
licking down his lover's taut belly, the blonde laughing as the other man
tried to catch the tight skin around his bellybutton with his teeth.  I was
amazed to see these two playing love games with each other.  Despite my
natural instinct to be, I wasn't nauseated by what I was seeing.  Instead,
I had a greater understanding of male sexuality and intimacy and I was
suddenly terribly jealous of the close bond that these two obviously
shared.

   The blonde's laughter was cut short as his partner's mouth hungrily
found his hard cock.  The cameraman moved a bit to fully frame Blondie's
handsome face as his lover grabbed him and tucked his nimble tongue into
the slit at the blunted tip of his jutting erection.  The actor's narrow
hips lifted off the pillows as he wordlessly urged his male lover to take
more of him and the dark-haired man eagerly complied, titillating him with
a slippery tracing around the bulbous glans, then down the impressive
length.  Taking the egg-shaped testicles in his hand, he lowered his mouth
over the blonde and took him deep, all the while applying suctioning
pressure with his cheeks as he began to move his head up and down in a
lusty blowjob.

   I shifted in the doorway, but it was only to adjust my position so I
could better hear the loveplay between the two actors on screen.  Blondie
moaned shamelessly as muscle-man impressively swallowed him and I could see
him utilizing lips tongue and cheeks in tandem to work on the tasty-looking
hard-on.  Even he eventually needed a breather, and when he did he lifted
his head and, starting at the hefty base of the massive shaft, brought his
hand up as he gripped tightly and turned his wrist back and forth to
increase the pleasure.  Up, down, up, down went the masturbatory rhythm of
his hand until the blonde howled in agony.  I'd never imagined performing
fellatio as a dominating act, but he'd succeeded in doing just that.  Then
without warning, he took a submissive role by sticking out his tongue and
wetly slapping the meaty bulk of his lover's saliva-slickened cock against
it and his upturned cheeks and chin again and again.  I found it sinfully
thrilling.

   I wasn't the only one.  A lusty moan emanating from the bed reminded me
I wasn't the only one enjoying this pornographic show.  I had completely
forgotten about Mrs.  Lunsford but as I looked towards her, still clad only
in her bra and panties, I was reminded again that this older woman was
incredibly hot!  Those feelings increased exponentially as, before my
wondering eyes, she reached around behind her to undo the hooks, and in a
graceful movement, her brassiere fell away.  I almost gasped.  Her breasts
were so beautiful ~~ immaculately white from the signature triangular
outline of a bikini, nipples large and colored a girly pink, like cotton
candy, the unique hue that I would learn later in life that seem to be
possessed by true redheads alone.  Free of the bra, her bosom brashly
jutted out, the plush orbs full and firm, rising and falling with each
breath she took, making my fingers tingle with the desire to touch them.

   Seeing her topless for the first time, I decided that Mrs.  Lunsford was
the embodiment of all things soft, the personification of feminine.  I
liked that kind of softness.  She always smelled good too.  No overpowering
perfumes or choking hairspray, but natural, like soap and fresh air, like
summer sunshine and clean skin.  Yeah.  I liked her natural scent and I
liked her soft skin, but it was more than that, a sneaking suspicion that
there was something hidden beneath that good girl/devoted mother façade and
wondered exactly what that was.  Now, seeing a light dew of perspiration
glistening on her smooth skin and her eyes darkened with lust as she stared
glassily at the provocatively erotic images playing out on the television
screen, I stopped wondering and just...watched.

   Mrs.  Lunsford had been possessed of a beguiling Mona Lisa smile, but
now she parted her pouty lips with her kittenish tongue as she very gently,
very slowly brought her willowy hands across her vulnerably soft tummy, at
first seemingly absentmindedly then with more purpose as she began to rise
upwards.  She tantalizingly brushed her fingertips over those lovely
mounds, starting on the curve below them, at first just lifting the
feathery-soft fullness of each one before squeezing.  Eventually she traced
her slender fingers up along the sweat-slicked sides, then flicked her
lacquered nails across the desire-plumpened nipples, bringing them to fully
rigid attention.  She gasped a little and I could hear her burgeoning lust
plainly in the sultry air of a typically tropical Blue Bay night.

   Silently revering her from my clandestine observation point, I decided
Mrs.  Lunsford looked like an angel ~~ a wicked, dirty angel ~~ doing what
she needed doing most as she enchantingly played with her scrumptious tits,
moaning as the scene in the adult movie playing out before her got more
heated.  At first she seemed content to playfully tickle then teasingly
pinch her pert nipples, one at a time, but as she got more and more caught
up in her onanistic playtime, the other hand moved to join in.  She began
aggressively tugging on the chubby nubbins to make them swell even more,
she rolled the tight little buds between her thumbs and fingers, tugging
then letting go to cup and squeeze both breasts.  Her back arched, her
curvaceous body rolling as her hands kneaded her bosomy flesh and I decided
there was nothing more appetizing than watching her lush breasts bounce and
jiggle.  I couldn't tear my worshipful eyes away from her and fervently
wished I was the one touching her creamy breasts, making her nipples pop
out.  When she began tossing her head in her building passion, clearly
enjoying the feel of her hands on her naked body one of her breasts was
briefly shadowed with a veil of her loosened crimson hair and I had a
vibrant image of what that long hair would feel like trailing over my own
naked body...

   Then it got even better ~~ Mrs.  Lunsford lowered her head, raised her
bosomy breasts, and started thirstily sucking on that erect nub. 
Witnessing such inventive female eroticism made my heart race and the blood
rush into my cock, making it stand begging for attention and approval,
swelling it thicker than seemingly ever before.  I'd never dreamed of being
in the scenario I found myself in and it was more of a turn-on than I could
have possibly imagined, exhilarating me to no end.  When I saw her lift her
other breast and washed her lissome tongue across the pointy nipple, I was
struck by how much her ripe buds resembled two delightfully pink berries
dropped in a bowl of freshly whipped cream.  My mouth was insatiably hungry
for her, the sweat on her body now beading up in droplets I could almost
taste, and I wanted to share with her in nibbling on those scrumptious
treats before continuing on to devour her salty flesh.

   Heat swirled low in my gut, tightening my abdominals, squeezing my
chest. My cock twitched like a wild beast on a leash as Mrs.  Lunsford's
hand trailed down her belly, breasts bobbing enticingly as her sliding
fingers splayed over her soft, soft skin, thighs, supple and buttery,
splaying open, seemingly beckoning me.  I mimicked her movements, sliding
my hand over my hip, pushing it down my taut stomach, towards my own
crotch. A hot jolt of raw sensation zinged through my body, catching my
breath as I saw her slowly, almost lazily pull her panties down, the gusset
clinging to the contours of her sex, and it only reluctantly came free. 
Kicking her undies, visibly doused in her brazen wetness, off her dainty
feet left her clad in a pair of sheer stockings and nothing else.  A fluff
of scarlet pubic down thicketed her plump mound, framed in a triangle of
creamy white skin, just as her nipples were.  It was as though she were
wearing an invisible thong that that only highlighted and flaunted what
bikinis are designed to conceal and hide and I zeroed in on the pink lips
of her vagina peeking out from the curly nest where the hair darkened to
burgundy.

   A loud groan from the television distracted me and when I looked at the
glowing screen, I saw that during the interim, a fully clothed red-haired
woman was watching the two men.  The hungry look on her face as she
witnessed the dark-haired man leaning, naked and voracious, over the
blonde's thick erection, pleasuring him with his mouth, told me that she
wouldn't remain clothed much longer.  She would have to join her lovers in
a provocatively erotic tableau.

   As the dark-haired man perched on his hands and knees over the blonde's
cock, the red-haired woman climbed on the bed between his spread legs.  To
my amazement, she began to tauntingly nip at his well-formed butt cheeks,
then brush the flesh with her soothing tongue to assuage the sharp sting. I
was utterly astounded and watched transfixed as the dirty girl moved her
pretty face to his hairless crease and began to shamelessly lick him there.
Holding my breath, I witnessed her spread his cheeks wide, exposing the
starred dimple of his pink anus, and lewdly lapped at him, liberally
coating his nether opening with her slippery saliva as he groaned his
salacious delight.  The smutty image was very raunchy but I could not help
but reach down and cradle my low-slung scrotum, fondling my tender
testicles in my hand like a pair of oversized marbles.  I had long since
forgotten about my earlier need to piss ~~ in fact, the latent pressure to
go just increased the pleasure as my balls rolled easily in my pleated sac
with my instinctive need for release starting to simmer in my lust-fired
depths.

   Mrs.  Lunsford's shuddery groan refocused my attention on her, where she
was now caressing her silky-smooth-looking thighs.  Then she brought one
hand up and around to ever-so-lightly brush her fingertips across her
crimson fluff, that seemingly-innocuous touch making her thrust her hips
out towards me, as if offering her sweet femininity for me to take.  I
struggled to swallow in my suddenly-parched throat as she repositioned
herself, leaning back on her elbow, one long leg bent at the knee, the
other stretching straight, toes pointed.  She let her knee fall to the side
as she tunneled her slender fingers through the thatch of fluffy curls
between her legs before finally coming to rest in the pink heart of her
silky bush, hand cupped lovingly over her precious sex.

   When she began pleasuring herself by stroking her slit, my hand rose
from where I was playing with my balls, my fingers meeting hot, hard flesh.
My breath snagged in my chest as reflex stroked my fingertips along the
fully-engorged shaft of my throbbing cock to the spongy tip, moist and
sticky with flowing pre-cum.  I tried to remain as controlled as Mrs. 
Lunsford was, the object of my desire gently gliding the tips of her dainty
fingers along the pouty lips of her vulva, never entering, almost as if she
were petting an exotic and dangerous animal.  Perhaps she was right to
treat her sex gingerly.  Only she knew the potential of her pussy.  Perhaps
her greedy cunny wanted to take control and make her a slave to its search
for perpetual pleasure.  But stroke it she did, urging it to semi-wild
obedience, making herself wetter and wetter with her succulent juices until
I could see the droplets glistening in the golden glow of the candlelight.

   All this time, Mrs.  Lunsford's eyes stared straight ahead at the
television screen, never letting the sexy studs or their naughty girl out
of her sight.  When I looked at the glowing screen and saw the redheaded
lady had stepped back and was watching as the dark-haired man went on his
haunches over the blonde's massive hard-on, I knew what was going to
happen, knew I should turn away from this depravity, but I just couldn't.
My own cock throbbed viciously as Blondie reached down and held his
towering rod steady, letting his limber lover use his powerful legs to
hover over that enormous penis.  He leaned forward, resting his hands on
the blonde's chest and the two lovers shared an impassioned kiss, tongues
meshing as he began to lower himself onto the rock-hard shaft.

   I watched in disbelief as the impossibly thick rod disappeared into the
tiny puckered hole, squirming in my hiding place at the lascivious sight of
that huge erection disappearing into a willing, if not downright eager,
man's body.  I knew I should be revolted by the sodomizing obscenity I was
witnessing, but I wasn't.  Far from it.  My cock was steely-hard, so
bloated that I thought there was a good chance it might hemorrhage, my
wicked lust so intense it would burst blood vessels.  It felt impossibly
huge in my hands, bigger than it ever had before.  The volcanic heat and
pressure let me know that I was going to have to masturbate to quench the
raging sexual fire ignited by the orgiastic scene I was privy to, those
flames burning through me like a branding iron.

   On screen, the sexy redheaded lady had climbed on the jumble of
overstuffed pillows behind the dark-haired man and ran her hands
affectionately down his bowed spine.  He trembled as his lover's big cock
rested inside him and she delicately touched him.  When she drew back, he
used his powerful arms and muscular legs to power his lithe body up that
gorgeous rod, only to slide back down.  She crouched at the bottom of the
bed and the cameraman followed so everyone could see the massive organ
being engulfed by his suctioning hole.

   "Oh Terry," the flushed redhead breathlessly whispered.  "Do you have
any idea how beautiful you are?  I love to see that big hard cock disappear
inside you.  How does it feel?  Can you take all of him?"

   The air was full of the sounds of not only the lovers' wanton moaning
but Mrs.  Lunsford's as well.  It was the first time I had watched a woman
masturbate but somehow I knew it wasn't just the novelty that tempted me.
And tempt me she did ~~ in a number of ways that surprised me.  She was
laid out before me, ripe and flushed, her breathing hard and deep as her
hand, which had been merely toying with her cunny, now resolutely spread
her plump pussy lips, running a finger up and down the liquid pink of her
fleshy groove, intimately fondling the sensitive folds shimmering in the
luminescence.  She pushed a finger into her juicy entrance, drew it out and
then pushed it deep again.  I could see the liquid wetness of her feminine
cream as she drew it upwards and I was flabbergasted when she brought her
finger up to her open mouth, unhurriedly licking herself clean, savoring
every nuance of her tasty nectar.

   After dipping into the well of her pretty pink pussy to remoisten her
finger, she brought the lubricated digit upwards, concentrating her
fingertip caress on the nub of her swollen clitoris.  While she swirled her
index finger around her clit in concentric circles, getting herself worked
up, she played with her bobbling breasts with her free hand.  At first she
was content to affectionately stroke and caress her tits, swinging her head
from side to side, her long hair sweeping across her jutting boobs.  Soon
enough, though, she was pinching her swollen nipples, pulled roughly
through the teasing veil of her silky scarlet tresses at the hard, reddened
pebbles.  When, in similar fashion, she began flicking her nail over the
tender nubbin of her clit, her hips introduced a gentle rising and falling
motion.  Her head fell back in complete abandon and her whimpery moans took
on the rhythm of her masturbation and I could see that she was so sopping
wet that the red-gold curls of her cunny were now drenched with the fresh
flows of the moisture that saturated them.

   A movement on the screen drew me back to the X-rated film.  Terry, as
the redheaded actress had called the dark-haired actor, had drawn himself
up and off the blonde's cock only to go on his hands and knees beside him.
Blondie sat up and went behind Terry, considerately running his finger up
the crease of his vulnerable ass before sliding his beefy penis up into his
lover's powerful body.  The only sound was that of flesh slapping
sweat-soaked flesh as the blonde stud began to pound into the other man and
the distinctive slap and the corresponding grunts and groans would have
been enough to make me hard if I hadn't been already.  The camera angle
allowed me to see Blondie's heavy sac swinging pendulously with every
driving stroke, then hear the resounding sound of his body as it slammed
against Terry's muscular frame, sending his rod deep, deep into the other
man's dark channel.

   I couldn't help but wonder that that would feel like, watching another
man take my big cock inside him.  I already knew that, by genetic luck, I
was bigger than most men but knew women were blessed with the soft, supple
channels of their miraculously elastic vaginas designed to guide me or any
other man inside.  But would I be too big to be accepted into a man's body?
I always imagined that I would have to insistently press my way in past the
puckered rosette, the opening clutching him tightly, reluctant to accept
his hard-on.  But the relative ease in which Terry had taken the blonde's
enormous penis, a behemoth that dwarfed even my own impressively-sized one,
made me rethink my previous assumptions and fantasize about pressing into
an anonymous lover, filling him with the steady, rhythmic pounding of his
flesh...

   The couple onscreen had shifted positions and Mrs.  Lunsford did too,
throwing one leg up into the air, pointing her tiny toes up toward the
ceiling while her rounded thighs splayed out even wider to accommodate her
slender hand as she continued caressing her wet cunny.  The rise and fall
of her breasts became shallower, irregular, her breathing becoming more
labored as her middle finger began probing, quickly finding its target. 
When the slender digit disappeared inside her succulent sex, dipping
between her plush labial lips, a deep blush colored her angelic features
and she rose up, her sumptuous breasts hanging heavily, unsupported on her
chest.  She fell back to the mattress soon after, squeezing the flesh of
her thighs together in rhythmic pulses and delighting in the sweet
sensations her slowly stirring finger, pushing progressively deeper and
deeper inside her steamy heat, undoubtedly summoned up inside her.

   I had thought that everything up to this point had been thrillingly
erotic, but Mrs.  Lunsford proved to be just getting started, slicking a
second finger to join the first.  This being my first time seeing a woman
masturbate, I was endlessly fascinated by her enterprising techniques,
twisting her arm to enjoy different angles with nearly every thrust, her
back arching each time she hit a particularly sensitive spot, fresh streams
of her natural nectar drenching everything.  Her breathy panting nearly
matched the lascivious noises being made by the anal sexing couple
onscreen, her eyes glossy as she finger-fucked herself in synchronous
rhythm with the sodomizing masculine couple.  Her once angelically
beautiful face had transformed into a mask of what appeared to be
excruciating ecstasy and euphoric agony warring with one another.

   The debauched sex onscreen endlessly mesmerized Mrs.  Lunsford but not
only did her autoeroticism leave me spellbound, there was so much to see
and hear that I felt myself getting overwhelmed.  She had brought her
second hand down off of her bobbling breast and I watched her hands work
hard in unison at her needy pussy.  The middle finger of one hand had begun
flicking lightly at the fleshy pearl of her clitoris while the twin fingers
of her other hand plunging faster, harder.  Seeing her hips rolling
sluttishly with the dissolute sensation made my own breathing shudder, my
breaths coming short and hot.  My hand fisted my rampant erection, my free
hand reaching for the tight sac of my balls, rolling it knowingly between
my skilled fingers, squeezing, tugging and rolling again.  But my cock was
beginning to savagely ache and no matter whether I stroked myself faster or
not, nothing seemed to restrain the insurgent feelings.

   Knowing I couldn't last much longer without reaching my ultimate
release, I willingly gave in to temptation.  Mrs.  Lunsford was a delicious
feast of sinfully sexual delight, a body made for making love.  As her
breasts heaved and surged, I knew those creamy, pudding-soft mounds would
fit my warmly massaging hands perfectly.  I'll be damned if it wasn't so
easy to envisage sliding my fingertips over them as they glistened in the
candlelight with drops of slick sweat.  I desperately craved being the one
twisting those perfect, swollen, dusky-pink nipples but I wouldn't smother
her cries with soulful kisses, though.  I wanted to hear her screaming with
the shattering pleasure and erotic pain I knew in my heart of hearts I
could give her.

   I knew Mrs.  Lunsford was careening inexorably towards her rapturous
crisis because her entire body had begun to undulate, breasts jiggling
violently under their veil of long glossy cinnamon hair.  Between her legs,
now splayed outwards in a crab-like stance, her masturbatory actions were
quickening until they had become frenzied, her hands a near blur as one
mercilessly fucked her squelching pussy and the other that had been lightly
rubbing her clitoris now ruthlessly lashed the hypersensitive bud.  I
staggered against the doorframe then caught myself, feet wide, my clutching
hand ferociously pumping my cock at a speed I'd never thought possible.  I
squeezed my balls hard, rocking my hips, jacking my hand just as hard and
fast as Mrs.  Lunsford jacked hers.

   A harsh cry emanated from the screen and I turned in time to see the
blonde actor throw back his head and howl as his orgasm came down on him. I
watched Blondie's sexy body seize in ecstasy, pumping his cum into Terry's
taut nether hole.  Seeing it made electric sensation sizzle over my body
like invisible strings pulling from every corner of my being.  They coiled
tighter and tighter inside me, a knot of pure sensation building at the
base of my cock.  My legs were wobbly under me, my entire body woozy with
the need to restrain what was inevitable in the form of that intense
pressure I felt building inside me, like a balloon about to burst.  Hearing
Mrs.  Lunsford's gasping, sobbing moans told me she was almost there too.
Free to let loose, I closed my eyes, roughly ran my fist up and down my own
pulsating erection with a grip that was viciously tight, almost painful,
and imagined my cock ramming into a nameless stud's incredibly tight anus
and pounding between Mrs.  Lunsford's thighs, feeling the wet squeeze of
her sweet pussy as it rippled in orgasmic ecstasy....

   Mrs.  Lunsford's eyes had squeezed tightly shut, kittenish tongue
swirling on her lips, mouthing words that even in the throes accelerating
towards her penultimate release she seemed too timid to voice.  Her hips
undulated against her fingers as she whipped hard and fast against the hot,
wet flesh of her cunny and clit, then her entire body started to thrash,
head tossing from side to side, her upper torso flushed with the fiery
shards of tumultuous bliss sparking off the series of rampageous
convulsions that ripped through her.  Her lusty moans echoed in the close
confines of the bedroom and quickly reached a crescendo.  With both hands
she gripped her spasming pussy, gushing out washes of creamy girlcum, and
screamed out her joyous release.

   Just like that, the exhilarating sound of Mrs.  Lunsford reaching her
dazzling orgasm loosened the chains of the boisterous primal need I had
held at bay for so long.  A maelstrom of stormy blisses thundered through
me as my ejaculatory release rushed wildly up my jerking shaft, exploding
from the flaring head of my cock in a silvery arc, spattering sloppily all
over the wooden doorway.  Seeing her girlcum still dribbling hot and wet
from her gaping pussy to spill into the sopping tangle of crimson hair
between her legs inspired another scintillating detonation of less intense
but still shimmering orgasmic bliss.  My hot juice spurted out two more
times like a miniature volcano of molten lava, each eruption leaving me
bedazzled by the euphoric intoxication of it all.  On and on it went, my
hips continuing to rock my deflating erection in my flexing hands gradually
slower and slower, joyfully enjoying the narcotic afterglow, milking out
every last bit of deliquescent pleasure.

   When I was able to see again, I saw Mrs.  Lunsford, seemingly spent, had
collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.  I found myself leaning heavily
against the bathroom doorframe, sweating profusely, panting heavily,
eternally grateful that I'd been able to watch her transformation.  I wiped
my semen-spattered lower body with a near-by towel and was just about to
make my way back towards Ethan's bedroom when I risked a backwards glance.

   `No can do,' my mutinous brain said as I heard what the redheaded
actress was saying.

   "Turn over, Terry," she said with a wanton laugh, gesturing towards the
dark-haired actor.  "I know you didn't come yet and that beautiful big cock
is not going to be wasted." He groaned, but I could see he followed her
request quickly, probably eager to see what the little minx had planned for
him.

   "I'm sure two big, strong studs like you can take a little more." Right
now, I'm so hot I just need to get out of these clothes."

   While I shook my head at her atrocious acting skills, the redhead
reached up and took hold of the catches on her outfit, flicking them. 
Grabbing the zipper pull, she slowly began to tug it across her chest from
shoulder to waist, the signature sound echoing in the silence.  I could see
the two men on the bed, intently watchful as they took in the scene
unfolding before them.  Though I'd never seen an adult film before, I knew
what was going to happen next.

   "You remember what's under this suit, don't you, boys?" she shot at them
as she parted the upper section of the dress to reveal her succulent
breasts.  "Nothing!" She paused, letting her scrutinizing eyes wander
appreciatively over the two hunks waiting for her striptease.  I couldn't
blame her for liking what she saw.  Both men had finely chiseled faces,
full lips, penetrating eyes and incredible bodies, one lean, the other
bulky, both well-muscled.  They were also supremely unselfconscious about
their nudity, Terry sporting a massive erection between his powerful legs.

   In silent response, Terry boldly walked right up to her, cupping her
pretty face in his strong hands and seized her pouty mouth in a deep kiss.
Never taking his mouth from hers for long, he began tending to her swollen,
achy breasts with his massaging hands.  When he took a diamond-hard nipple
between his thumb and forefinger and teasingly pinched the pudgy nubbin,
she moaned shamelessly into his soulful kiss.

   I'd forgotten all about Mrs.  Lunsford, but motion from her bed caught
my eye and I turned to see her leaning over to pick something out of the
nightstand.  I assumed she was reaching for the remote control to turn off
the VCR to go to sleep, but when she was lying on her back again, I saw her
right hand clutching a bright blue sextoy.  Now I had read that, this being
the open-minded 1980's, more open-minded couples sometimes experimented
with sexual novelties so I wasn't so much shocked as I was curious about
her intimate plaything.  She was still simply holding it, not using it, and
at a distance I couldn't tell if it was a vibrator or a dildo.  All I knew
was that it was blue, quite petite at four, maybe four and a half inches
long, a rather dull white and only vaguely phallic shaped with a
streamlined shape and tapered head.  Nevertheless, I waited with bated
breath for her to start using the toy.

   "Wouldn't you like Jude to join us?" The question originated with Terry
onscreen, and when the redhead enthusiastically nodded, he crawled off the
bed and knelt in front of her.  With him on his knees, never breaking off
the heated smooching she and the other actor were engaged in, she placed
her hands on Jude's shoulders, letting him unlace her boots one by one and
tug them off.  He yanked off her socks and threw them aside before hauling
her to her feet and peeling the dress from his fellow actor, revealing
every luscious inch of that toned body.

   "Oh, you're so very ready for us, aren't you, Delilah?" Jude said,
smirking, running his hands knowingly up her sleek thighs, opportunely
finishing with his thumbs brushing up against her pink and visibly moist
labial lips.  "You're so swollen.  Were you thinking about this as you
watched Terry and me?"

   Delilah nodded her assent, clearly unable to speak.

   I watched as Jude and Terry positioned the amenable redhead on her
knees. Delilah's plush bottom was turned up in his direction in an enticing
pose, swishing back and forth in her lascivious delight.  Despite the fact
that she was made up in a rather tarty way, she was a beautiful woman with
her creamy skin that begged for a lover's caress, and a sensuous mouth that
seemed to promise many hours of pleasure.  Jude took up the challenge,
stroking her head before inserting the mushroomy glans of his soft but
still meaty penis between her parted lips.  She faux-pouted as she
compliantly began slurping on his manhood, but her petulant frown soon
changed to a contorted smile as Terry slid his rampant cock inside her
pretty pink pussy.

   On the bed, I wasn't terribly surprised to see Mrs.  Lunsford once more
moving her hand over her body, down her sides, across her belly, then down,
slowly, until her slim fingers once more were teasingly brushed through the
wet silky curls at the apex of her thighs.  What surprised me was she had
brought the dildo up to her lips and was affectionately kissing the plastic
tip.  When she began daringly sucking upon it, the touch of her fingers
glided across, aroused and heated, leaving her vaginal muscles visibly
clenched, as if to grab and gobble any flesh that neared.

   It was witnessing Mrs.  Lunsford's raw feminine sexuality, seeing the
urge to quench a voracious hunger surging through her with each heartbeat
that, in spite of the fact I had brought myself to two orgasms in the space
of just over an hour, brought my own cock surging back to life.  Never
would I have imagined becoming hard again so soon after such a powerful
climax, yet that was exactly what was happening.  When she, boldly now,
played her fondling fingers further down, full palm contacting an aching,
arching clitoris, the wordless sound, seemingly forged in the very depths
of her soul, that rumbled up, unconscious and uncontrolled, could well
enough have come from me.

   On screen, Terry was pumping gently in and out of Delilah's juicy pussy,
making her moan, her flushed features coming into view when Jude pushed her
hair out of her face before clasping her head between his large hands to
sluice his resurgent hard-on between her cushioning lips.  But my eyes were
mainly focused on Mrs.  Lunsford, one hand continuing to stroke swollen,
heated flesh of her hot and moist and hungry sex while the other moved the
toy, rubbing it back and forth across her breasts before sliding it
downwards until it was gliding across the front of her pussy.  I sat there,
excitedly awaiting the moment of penetration, but the dirty lady brought it
back to her mouth, naughtily licking her own juices off the dildo.  But her
insatiable sex cried out for more substantial attention so she inevitably
drew the dong downwards once more, and this time the blunted head fully
spread open the quivering lips.  She sighed decadently as slowly, inch by
inch she worked the toy deep inside herself.  Her inner muscles visibly
clenched the craved presence as her hips tilted forward.  She raised her
right leg, pressed her bare foot on the wooden pillar for leverage, and
proceeded to pump herself silly.

   In the porno, the three lovers were rearranging each other, Jude, whose
dauntingly-sized erection was now at full staff, saying something along the
lines of fucking Delilah from while the other took her from the front. 
Would she like that?  She nodded again, saying that no matter how they took
her, she would win, her body swaying at the salacious thought of being so
thoroughly manwiched, only her lover's supporting arms keeping her upright.


   "Well, if you're going to take on both of us, I should definitely
prepare you." Terry said.  His erection was enormous and slathered with her
gooey nectar, bouncing slightly under its own ponderous weight and very
eager to be back inside Delilah.  "Jude, toss me that lube,"

   The blonde grabbed a tube of VasoLube that was handily on a nearby table
and threw it over.  The dark-haired actor agilely swept it from the air
then looked over at Delilah.  "You need to turn around so I can get you
ready for us."

   She turned and presented her back to him.

   "Bend over," Terry said.

   As she complied, he flipped the cap and squeezed a healthy dollop of the
slippery lubricant onto his middle finger.  Snapping the lid shut, he
carelessly tossed the tube aside.  Running his finger carefully down the
cleft of Delilah's curvaceous backside, he thoroughly coated the redheaded
actress' daintily dimpled entrance, then eased his finger inside to make
sure when he entered her there would be able to slide in easily.

   Jude climbed onto the jumble of pillows then turned over onto his back,
Delilah a few feet in front of him, a lecherous hunger etched on her pretty
face as she gazed at his brazenly spearing erection, glistening with her
own saliva.  "Why don't you come and climb on top of me, darling," he
playfully taunted, then paused, as if giving her time to consider.  "You
know how far inside you I can reach with this," he added, running his
caressing hand up and down the length of his brawny shaft, lingering on the
bulbous head.  "I can fill you like nobody else," He continued.  "Climb on
up here and let me stick this big cock inside you.  You know you can't wait
any longer."

   I knew Delilah couldn't wait any longer and wasn't surprised in the
slightest when she climbed right up on the pillows and crawled onto Jude's
waiting lap.  After all, that was the easiest way to take him.  But what
did surprise me, what downright stunned me was Mrs.  Lunsford had set aside
her smallish white vibrator and produced from her bedside drawer a new toy.
Only this one was the size of the Leviathan, a big, brutish black thing,
shaped realistically like a grotesquely oversized penis but veined so
densely as to give it the appearance of a hawser or similar kind of
industrial cable.  Looking at the cyclopean sextoy, I was in awestruck
wonderment, having failed so greatly to discern the profound level of this
housewife's lust and depravity.

   While Jude held his towering shaft steady, Delilah bent forward, her
small hands riding his broad chest as she lowered herself and he surged up
into her.  At the same time, I watched, hardly daring to blink, as Mrs. 
Lunsford brought the black behemoth down between her splayed legs and ran
the tip over her plush mound.  She pressed a button I had not noticed
before on the bottom of her toy and the vibrator buzzed to life, and I
watched as she ran the now-vibrating shaft up and down her honey-doused
split.  The sexy older woman loudly purred her unabashed delight as it
touched her body in the most intimate way, spreading her bee-stung vulva
but not penetrating them.  She played with her surging breasts with one
hand while the other kept running the humming toy along her juicy pussy,
teasing herself ~~ and me ~~ with the promise of sinful treats yet to come.

   From my vantage point in the bathroom doorway, I could see onscreen
Terry watching Jude and Delilah make love.  Though I knew in my rational
mind they were adult film actors, I envied the way three lovers could
bestow such trust in each other, sharing their conjoined bodies and their
mutual pleasure.  A wolfish smile crossed his face as he grabbed the
VasoLube off the floor and greased up his straining cock as he clambered
back over to the humping couple but my attention went back to Mrs. 
Lunsford.  The sexy mother of my best friend had begun penetrating herself
with the vibrator, bicycling her legs outwards as she began easing it in
slowly, getting a few inches of the monstrous dong inside before drawing it
back out.  It was a little game that seemed to yield big rewards because
soon she was panting and whimpering with the scintillating sensations the
gargantuan dildo was providing.

   Mrs.  Lunsford had only managed to get about six inches of the whopping
dong inside her but she began to fuck herself, working the thing in slow
semi-circular strokes, letting it go further and further inside her.  I
could tell she was beginning to get really excited when she lifted her hips
so she could get a better angle and began humming loudly as the dildo in
her hands plunged ever deeper.  Slow, steady, the rhythm built, the cadence
ascending until her body started rocking back and forth and her dreamy eyes
fluttered close, thinking who knows what.  I was thinking about her, that
much I can tell you.  I was thinking about the beautifully sexy, throaty
noises she made and how she was pressing her palm against the base of the
dildo harder than I would've ever imagined until, to my stupefaction, her
seemingly refined vagina had consumed the entire thing!  I marveled that
she could get such a fat toy in her pussy.  It was my first revealing
glimpse at the true depths of Mrs.  Lunsford's sexual hunger.

   Motion on the television momentarily distracted me and I saw Terry, who
had been anointing Delilah's nether opening with the gelatinous jelly for
several minutes, now rose over her and lithely slid his big penis deep into
her welcoming ass.  Her pliable anus was well lubricated and open from his
earlier fingering, so he was able to slide into her nice and easy.  But it
was witnessing Mrs.  Lunsford who, totally unexpectedly, picked up in her
free hand the small vibe, still drenched in her slick honey, and forcefully
impaled it several inches into the intense heat of her own tight anal
channel that made my cock ache for release, eager to be serviced.  She
visibly shivered as the multiple tactile stimulations made her jerk and
writhe and then she cried out ~~ not a cry of pain, rather one of
unimaginable carnal delight.

   I had long since resigned myself to my status as a voyeur, tantalizingly
stroking myself, trying not to make any noise when what I really wanted was
to roar my lusty approval.  While I thoroughly enjoyed watching the raw
footage playing out onscreen, it could not compare to what I was witnessing
in Mrs.  Lunsford's libidinous autoeroticism.  It wasn't simply that she
was real and they were not.  There were certain obvious similarities
between the two but, unlike the actors onscreen, there wasn't any pretense
that Ethan's mother was showing off for me.  There was no way I was going
to miss a minute of her self-loveplay, for self-love play was what it was.
The way she took something elemental and earthy as masturbation and changed
it into something rich and feisty intrigued me.  The way she playfully
taunted herself, encouraged herself, pleasured herself completely seduced
me.

   Onscreen, the porn actors' ménage à trois continued but by now I only
had eyes for Mrs.  Lunsford.  The insatiate woman had pressed the button on
the vibrator implanted in her anus and, after visibly turning up the speed,
her hands began to move in well-rehearsed unison, pumping the buzzing vibe
into herself from beneath and humping the pleasure-bringing dong her from
the front.  It was incredible to see how, as she worked herself up, she
fell into a practiced rhythm that allowed both her hands to move in
synchronous motion and her lower torso to rise and fall.  Almost
immediately she accelerated from simple wriggling to downright undulation,
the sensuous motions crushing the ribbed shaft of the dildo gently against
her exposed clit.  The longer she lay there, the faster she went until she
was really fucking herself with her toy phalluses.  It had been obvious to
me from her mellifluous whimpers that she had been voluptuously enjoying
the dual pleasure offered before but now she exploded, half-moaning and
half-crying, hips bucking wildly, impaling herself lustily on all the
inches her plastic pacifiers had to offer.

   Watching my best friend's mother fuck herself senseless was having a
distinct effect on me, and not just the fact that my hand that was ripping
up and down at lightning speed on my angrily throbbing cock.  I could not
imagine a more beautiful sight, had never seen anything so compelling in my
entire teenaged life and I became anxious that I wouldn't be able to stave
off my own railroading climax until she came.  She looked so sexy, her
beautiful face shining with desire, every luscious inch of naked skin
glowing from the incendiary heat she fueled by fucking herself with the
enormous dong ravishing her pussy and the smaller vibe buzzing inside her
tight back hole.  At that moment she had only one thing that mattered and
stroke by heavy, gliding stroke, hips bucking up to meet each and every
rough thrust of her twin pleasure tools, she reached for it.  And while it
was doubtlessly the adult film or the twin dildos slamming in and out of
her liquid heat, filling her up to bursting that sent her soaring, for me
it was the reality of Mrs.  Lunsford consumed with sexual need, body and
soul bare for me to see, unknowingly taking me along for the tumultuous
ride.

   By now I was gasping for every breath, my chest laboring hard as I
struggled to hold back my riotous climax, watching Mrs.  Lunsford go harder
and deeper, fast and mindless, every pounding stroke sheathing both dildos
to their hefty bases, her hips bucking so hard on the bed that I could hear
the bedsprings creak, just like I had with Ethan.  But it was she who went
over first with a jerky shudder that led to a high, keening cry as the
double assault triggered her rowdy release.  She came hard, throwing her
head back and crying out her triumphant joy as the boisterous climax
crashed over her, her glorious body spasming with the rampageous pleasure.
I could see the soft, full cheeks of her curvy ass flexing and rippling
with the powerful surges of orgasmic ecstasy, her pelvic muscles clamping
down tight, holding both engulfed dongs captive as gooey gushes of her
creamy girlcum inundated the welcome invaders, dribbling down the gaping
pink folds of her flesh.

   Watching Mrs.  Lunsford succumb to such blissful rapture, completely and
totally surrendering to the blazing desires of her body, snapped my
self-control, triggering my own climax.  Shuddering and bucking against the
doorframe, I slammed my bloated cock in my throttling hands, my palm
swiveling over the knobbed crest to smooth the slippery pre-cum over the
ballooned glans and down the blood-engorged shaft.  I had vowed myself to
silence but helplessly cried out as deliquescent bliss abruptly exploded
inside me, shivering over my flesh to consume my entire body.  "Oh, fuck
yeah!" I heard myself gutturally whisper as a geyser of hot white semen
crashed into my chin, spattering my open lips and tongue, giving me my
first taste of cum.  I had no time or inclination to think about that
because my cock, convulsively trembling from the shocking, first ecstatic
jolt of the ferocious orgasm, kept spurting out jet upon jet of steamy
ejaculate.  There was so much of it, wave after wave, mirroring the wave
after wave of aqueous rapture flooding my body and soul, filling,
cascading, claiming, consuming....

   I had never experienced before anything as earth-shattering as that
third orgasm of that fateful night.  I don't know how much later it was but
I do know that I still was leaning against the doorframe to steady my
rubbery legs, my ears were still resounding and my panting breath was still
coming so fast I could barely control it.  Based on how heavily I was
wheezing for breath, streams of sweat pouring off me, a casual observer
might have presumed I had just fucked her, not simply watched her get
herself off.  When I peered back into the bedroom, I saw Mrs.  Lunsford lay
flopped out on the rumpled bedsheets, nerveless fingers having long since
dropped both dildos but euphoric aftershocks still rippling her naked skin
and beading her cute nipples.  For long minutes she rested there,
occasional decelerating shockwaves wracking through her.  Then I thought
she laughed, but the sound emerged weak, and maybe, I thought, just a
little bit desperate.

   Feeling suddenly guilty for having intruded on a deeply private personal
moment, I took the bathroom doorknob with hands not quite steady and shut
it as quietly as I could manage, making sure the latch didn't make the
telltale `click' sound.  I turned to the toilet, breathless and stark
naked, and pissed the urine I'd been holding back for God-only-knows how
long, releasing a steaming torrent through my still swollen, sensitive
penis and that felt strangely good too.  Glancing backwards, I noticed the
luminous glow from under the bathroom door was still there, but the sound
from the porno was completely gone, and I knew she must have muted the
television.  It was still and quiet in her room.  Suddenly it occurred to
me that she would very probably be coming into the bathroom to clean up!

   I was pivoting, half-standing, reaching around to flush when the door
opened and Mrs.  Lunsford came in.  We froze, paralyzed in the flickering
blue glow of the television, both of us completely exposed.  I was
completely nude and so was she, all lushly curvy and deliciously soft,
peach-hued skin flushed and radiant.

   "I'm so sorry," she apologized in a squeaky voice but I saw her eyes on
me, moving over my nakedness doused with sweat, lingering for a fraction of
a second on my swaying penis, still heavy and semi-swollen.  "I didn't know
you were in here."

   "I should have locked it," I lamely replied, feeling flustered but,
strangely enough, not humiliated.  "I'm so sorry, Mrs.  Lunsford."

   I knew she was still there but she was suddenly silent and I had an
unfounded but intense feeling that she knew, or at the very least had a
strong suspicion, that I had been standing there, watching her.  "It's my
fault," she replied in an eerily serene voice.  "I should have knocked."

   I flushed the toilet, gathered my wits about me enough to realize I
should wrap a towel around me, then sloppily washed my hands in the sink
before announcing, "I'm done," my voice sounding overly loud and strident
in my own ears.

   "Good night, Sebastian," her disembodied voice said as I opened the
other bathroom door and retreated into the relative safety of the hallway.

   "Good night, Mrs.  Lunsford." I swallowed hard, my mind moving at
dizzying speeds as I made my way back towards Ethan's room.

   He was still sleeping, his breathing deep and even.  The humiliation I
had not felt before tore into me with a vengeance as I pressed my flaming
hot, burning red face into the soothingly cool cotton that covered the
feather-filled pillow.  Every time I closed my eyes, a memory, jaggedly
sharp and provocatively vivid, tormented me and something in my stomach
tightened another notch.  In the stillness of the night, I heard the shower
sputter into life and run for an torturously long time before it stopped
once more, the bathroom door opening and closing again and knew she was
back in her bedroom.

   No matter how much I tried to discipline them, my thoughts strayed
inevitably to the terrible, wonderful things I had seen.  I felt so guilty,
thinking what I was thinking, anguishing that it focused on my best
friend's mother.  And as much as I would have denied it to the world, would
have renounced it to Jesus Christ himself, I was insatiably horny for her
and wondered if Mrs.  Lunsford was thinking about me too.