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From: tooshoes@concentric.net (tooshoes)
Subject: SG4: Frisking The Cat - Part 2 (CR: 10,10,10)
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(continuing) 
 

     I twisted and moaned, half asleep and half awake, 
half remembering and half dreaming. 
     I saw myself lying naked on the floor. I was 
paralyzed from extreme pain and pleasure. Scratches ran down 
the length of my sides and my legs. My nipples were sore 
from being sucked. My breasts were bruised from so much 
squeezing. My pussy was bleeding, and Selina was standing 
over me with my blood all over her face. She smiled at me. 
My blood dripped from her long fangs. 
     Andrew crawled beside her and licked the blood from 
her lips.  Then he turned his attention to me, and bore into 
me with a terrible glare,  yelling something that didn't 
make sense. It sounded like . . . 
     . . . the doorbell. I sat up quickly and looked 
around. I was in my bedroom, and the clock said 7 am. 
Calvin was lying at the foot of my bed, looking up at me.  I 
was naked under the sheets. I wasn't bleeding or bruised, 
yet my heart was racing, and my pussy was wet with 
excitement, ready for fucking again. What was wrong with me? 
Was I a slave to my sexuality? 
     The doorbell buzzed again, this time longer and more 
insistently. 
     "Just a second," I yelled. I slipped into a bathrobe, 
carelessly tossed on my wig, and floated downstairs. I 
paused at the bottom of the stairs when, looking through the 
door, I saw who was on the other side. 
     *Shit!* It was Andrew. I hesitated. Why was he here 
so early in the morning? He knows I sleep in late. He must 
have known about last night. *Oh, Shit!*  What was I gonna 
say? 
     "Open the door, Linda," he said impatiently from the 
other side. 
     I unlatched the door and let him in.  He didn't look 
at me or say hello. He walked right past me into the living 
room to a hard wooden chair, sat down and told me to do 
likewise. 
     I sat in a wooden chair facing him. I crossed my legs 
and covered myself as best I could with the bathrobe. 
     Andrew was very angry. He was so angry he wouldn't 
even look at me. He just stared at the ceiling, collecting 
himself. For almost a minute, he said nothing. The suspense 
was almost unbearable. Then he finally said, "Guess what I 
found in my mailbox about an hour ago." 
     I shivered. "I don't know," I said, but I knew it 
must have been bad. 
     "A video tape," he spitted out, and then he paused 
and let the words sink in. 
     I covered my face with my hands and couldn't think of 
anything to say, except, "Fuck!" 
     "Exactly," Andrew replied. "What the fuck happened? 
What makes you feel worse? That you let Selina get away, or 
that there were still a few men that you didn't fuck last 
night?" 
     "Stop it!" I said, a little shocked, a little angry. 
He didn't have the right to talk to me that way. I didn't 
even think he was capable of talking that way. "It's not 
like I had a choice. She *made* me do it!" 
     "That's not the way it looked on the tape," Andrew 
said. "You didn't even try to stop them." 
     "I couldn't! She threatened to kill the security 
guards if I didn't do what she wanted," I told him, but not 
convincingly. It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. It 
was just a convenient excuse. 
     Even so, it surprised Andrew, and he lowered his 
tone. "What do you mean?" 
     "Weren't you listening? That's what she said." 
     Andrew shook his head, "The tape didn't have sound, 
just visual. But what security guards? There were no 
security guards. And there was no bomb." 
     "I thought they were guards. They looked like guards. 
I didn't know they were just her friends. And I thought 
maybe the bomb was hidden, maybe in lead." I said, clinging 
to my excuse, no matter how lame it seemed, no matter how 
much I might have even enjoyed last night, it wasn't 
something I chose to do. 
     Andrew shook his head.  "So you just let them all 
fuck you. With all of your powers, you could have done 
*something!*" 
     "Like what?" 
     "I don't know! You might have tried to threaten her. 
You might have at least objected, instead of begging for 
more. You are going to make me look really bad, when I have 
to show this tape to the agency. How can I justify hiring 
you now? What do we do if she makes this tape public?" 
     I shuddered at the thought. "I'm sorry. I didn't want 
to let you down." 
     "And what was all this crap about the t-shirt and the 
shorts? How did they get your costume?" 
     "They stole it from me a few days ago on the train. I 
didn't know who they were then," I said, hoping he wouldn't 
press for details. 
     "They stole it from you?" Andrew was surprised and 
more than a little confused. 
     I just nodded, expecting to be grilled. *Please don't 
push me*, I wished. I knew if he pushed, I'd have to tell 
him the truth about that train ride. I was a terrible liar. 
     "And when were you gonna share this information with 
me? I thought we were on the same team." 
     "So did I," I replied, remembering Selina's last 
words before she left. I was grateful to turn the blame back 
on him. "When were *you* gonna tell *me* about your 
connection with Selina?" 
     "My connection . . .?" Andrew paused as if hit from 
out of nowhere. "I didn't think that mattered. It was need- 
to-know information only." 
     "I think I needed to know. Last night . . . the 
museum . . . it was all a trap. They knew I was coming. They 
knew you were sending me," I said angrily, fighting my way 
out of the corner of blame. "She told me to tell you that, 
like always, she was one step ahead of you." 
     Andrew looked shocked. He stood up and looked around 
the apartment. He closed the blind to the window, then he 
examined the lamps and the furniture, until he found a thin 
wire emerging from a hole in the rug and disappearing into 
the sofa. He tore it loose with much more force than was 
necessary. "That bitch!" 
     "So what is this all about?" I pushed, more curious 
than angry, now that I was no longer in the hot seat. 
     Andrew shook his head and looked away. "I hired her 
to work for the agency several months ago." 
     "You did what?  You hired a criminal? What for?" 
     "To help us get close to the major players in Gotham 
City. It made sense at the time. She had contacts we could 
never have. I thought she'd make a great double agent. We 
had a second agent watching her from the other side, in case 
she decided to betray us." Andrew shook his head, and either 
laughed or sighed. Despite his anger, he half smiled in 
amazement. "We never expected that she'd betray both sides." 
     "What did she do?" I asked. "I mean, it must have 
been something pretty awful." 
     Andrew glared at me and said, "I don't think you need 
to know any more." 
     "Why? Was it something personal?" I asked, stepping 
closer. 
     "Never mind. It doesn't matter. Let's just say we 
both have good reasons to get her now." 
     So it *was* personal! My mind fluttered with ideas of 
what it might have been. Did she steal from him? Were they 
lovers? 
     Andrew walked away from me, as if he was afraid I 
might ask these questions. He walked straight for the door, 
and then he half turned towards me, saying, "We can't let 
her get away with this.  I'll contact you tonight." 
     "So you still want me to work with you?" I asked, 
barely believing it. 
     He nodded. "Sure, and you can keep the video tape. I 
made copies before I left." 
     I watched him leave, wondering and worrying what he 
meant by that. 
 
     I laid on the couch, trying to catch up on some of 
the sleep I had lost that morning, but I was too anxious. I 
stared unseeing at the television, instead, feeling confused 
and ashamed and afraid. And then, as my mind awakened, I 
began to feel angry. 
     I guess I can be pretty dense sometimes. Anyone would 
have known what he meant by that, except me. Maybe I knew 
what he meant all along, but it took a while for me to 
believe the obvious. 
     I liked Andrew ever since I had met him, and I 
thought that he liked me, too, even when he had trapped me, 
even when he spied on me. If I like a man, I can look past 
ten flaws to the one wonderful thing about him. Andrew 
trapped me, but then he let me go. He would spy on me, but 
then he'd apologize, saying sometimes he hated his job, but 
he had to do it. He'd talk to me for days like he was my 
best friend. I thought he had a weakness for me. I thought 
maybe part of him secretly loved me. 
     Even if it were true, he still wanted to keep me on a 
leash. That video tape was a leash, and he could use it to 
keep me in line. He saw what happened when he let me loose, 
like at the museum. He was angry at me, like a master would 
be angry at a pet for pooping on the floor. He wouldn't let 
me loose again. 
     He was even angrier at the Catwoman. It wasn't just 
the anger he might have towards just any criminal. She was 
like a disobedient pet. She was the pet that scratched up 
his prized possessions. She was the pet that knocked the 
vase off of the mantel. She was the pet that ran away. 
     And I was the pet that would pay the price. I hated 
being a part of his control games. 
     As these thoughts of pets and cats haunted my mind, I 
thought about Calvin, and how I hadn't seen him at all since 
Andrew left. Usually when I'm lying on the couch, Calvin 
will leap up and cuddle with me, purring and demanding 
attention, making me feel better, but when I looked for him 
now, I saw him crouching in the corner. 
     "What's the matter, Calvin?" I asked. "Did that big, 
bad man scare you?" 
     He just stared at me, as though I was the stranger, 
not Andrew. 
     I waited for a minute, just watching him, wondering 
what was wrong. He didn't look hurt, yet he just eyed me 
suspiciously and kept his distance. I forgot about Andrew 
and Selina and the anger I was feeling, as I watched Calvin, 
His distrust made me feel lonely and rejected. Sad to say, 
Calvin was my best friend, and he had always loved me 
unconditionally. Until now, anyway. 
     Finally, Calvin stood up, stretched and said, "Meow". 
He leaped onto the couch. He rubbed his head against my 
belly. When I stroked his neck and back, he arched into my 
hand and purred. 
     "That's a good boy!" I whispered, as I rubbed his 
neck and back.  I sheltered him and consoled him like I 
wished someone would do for me. I treated him like a pet 
should be treated. . . 
     Not that I wanted for Andrew to treat me like a pet. 
I worked for him, and I only wanted for him to treat me with 
the respect an employer should have for his employees. 
Employees should be respected, and pets should be loved. No 
matter how he thought of me, he wasn't treating me right. He 
was using me, and I didn't want to be used anymore. 
     My eye twitched and I felt my whole body shiver, when 
I had a shameful realization: I've let people use me for 
most of my life. Even worse, I think I *wanted* people to 
use me, to take control of me. Carol loved to play with my 
emotions, and I loved the games she played. My father was 
very stern, and sometimes I think I earned his love by 
always doing as I was told. I can barely even think about 
what I let happen with Sam, and I virtually begged Selina to 
do whatever she wanted with me.  No wonder people didn't 
respect me. I was pretty pathetic! 
     *I won't let anyone do that to me again!* My mind 
screamed in anger and shame and disgust.  *Not Andrew, not 
anyone!* 
     Just then, Calvin clawed his way from my arms and 
disappeared in the corner, again. He wouldn't even look out 
from behind the chair. I hadn't seen him so scared since. . 
. well, since he was Sam's pet three years ago. 
     What happened? Maybe I let my anger get the best of 
me, and I squeezed him a little too tight. Maybe I pet him 
too hard. 
     No, that wasn't it.  I was angry, and maybe I wasn't 
being affectionate, but I was very gentle. I didn't even rub 
him the wrong way. I kept my ugly emotions inside, showing 
him only kindness, so unless he could read my mind . . . 
 
     . . .  read my mind! How could I have gone almost 
four years on Earth without realizing it? I guess I would 
have realized it earlier if I could read other people's (or 
cat's) minds. Discovering my other powers was easy. I 
couldn't miss floating down a flight of stairs, or crushing 
a telephone in my hand, or seeing through the walls of my 
dorm room.  But how could I have guessed that I was sending 
psychic signals out? 
     I closed my eyes, breathed in deeply, imagining that 
my body smelled like catnip and it felt like a warm, soft 
spot in the sunlight. 
     A moment later, Calvin jumped back on the sofa and 
nuzzled against my belly. 
     I smiled, now knowing that I was right. Calvin had 
read my mind. 
     I closed my eyes again and imagined a familiar field 
with bushes and trees and small mice scurrying through the 
grass and darting into holes in the ground. 
     Calvin looked quickly up at me, and then around the 
apartment. He leaped from the sofa and onto the window sill. 
He stared outside, looking for mice to chase. 
     I closed my eyes again and thought of a giant 
Rottweiler, staring at Calvin, foaming at the mouth, and 
barking like thunder. 
     Calvin spun around in panic, fell from the window 
sill and disappeared under the sofa, as deeply hidden as he 
could get. 
     Why did I do that? I covered my face, laughing in 
shame and amazement. 
     I looked under the sofa and saw Calvin staring 
suspiciously back at me.  "I'm sorry Calvin. That was very 
mean of me." 
     I felt really guilty for scaring him like that, 
betraying his trust. The funny thing was that I was still 
smiling, and not in a nice way. I was so amazed by how 
quickly the predator had become the prey. 
 
     I hadn't walked the pathways of Metropolis University 
since I graduated several months ago, but I thought there 
was no better place to experiment with my newly discovered 
power. After all, everyone played mind games there,  it 
seemed. When I was a student, I played them, too. I had been 
hungry for friends, until I learned that with a little 
teasing in my short skirts and tight t-shirts, I would have 
as many friends as I could handle. 
     Just rummaging through my old school clothes made me 
shiver in excitement. I put on a one piece gold colored 
dress, with a matching gold jacket and gold shoes. Mary once 
told me that the gold highlighted my long brown hair. She 
had much better fashion sense than I did, so I believed her. 
     As provocative as my work wardrobe was, my school 
clothes were twice that. The jacket completely covered my 
breasts, encouraging curious eyes to either look in my eyes 
-- or travel south. The dress ended in a microskirt that 
barely covered my ass and fell less than an inch below my 
pussy. Unlike the red skirt of my Supergirl costume, this 
skirt was form fitting, clinging to my ass. 
     Even so, I didn't call very much attention to myself, 
because roughly half of the women on campus were dressed 
similarly. The rule among college girls, it seemed, was to 
dress to the extreme while still being legally decent. 
     Right now, brightly colored tights seemed to be in 
fashion. I walked past one woman who was wearing purple from 
head to toe. She reminded me very much of how Selina looked 
in the museum, except this college girl's tights were not 
see through -- at least to ordinary eyes. She pushed the 
limits by shaving her pussy and wearing nothing under her 
tights, so the shape of her pussy lips were clearly visible, 
as if the tights were a second skin. I admired that. 
     We were both pushing the limits, really, but she was 
getting more looks than I was.  I could steal some of her 
attention by just reaching down to pick up a pen -- I might 
even get the police's attention. But without breaking the 
rules, I couldn't compete. 
     Miniskirts were falling out of fashion.  The skirt 
flirt has lost some of it's mystery, because everyone knew 
that most women were completely decent underneath.  Tights 
gave men more too look at, but left less for their 
imagination or anticipation, so I knew that some day soon, 
miniskirts would come back. 
     Men just needed to start believing again. They were 
tired of watching a closed cookie jar, just in case it might 
open. They were tired of the promise of paradise, but no 
sign of it. They wanted a glimmer of hope, like a mirage in 
the horizon, or a rumor of a sighting, just to keep their 
faith alive. 
     And then I smiled as I realized I could give them 
exactly what they wanted. 
     I paused for a moment at a crossroads, letting people 
pass around me, and I concentrated on my appearance. I 
thought especially hard about my miniskirt, imagining that 
it was two inches shorter. I imagined that my pussy lips 
were barely visible to people walking by. They were just a 
hint of pink below the gold hemline. 
     When I opened my eyes, half of the people within 
thirty yards were staring at me. Maybe they were just 
staring at the weirdo who stopped in the middle of traffic 
with her eyes closed, I thought, so I started walking again, 
and sure enough, they were still looking, eyes slightly 
down, following my ass. 
     This time, with my eyes opened, I concentrated on my 
leg, and I imagined that a drop of pussy juice was rolling 
down my thigh, glistening in the sunlight. 
     And wow! What a reaction! I felt everyone's eyes on 
me now, and a few men were even following close behind. 
     Then, as I emerged from the shadow of a building, I 
walked into a cool breeze that sent a chill over my body, 
between my legs, and over my thighs. That's when I felt the 
moisture -- the tracks of two *real* droplets that had 
settled behind my knee. I was having so much fun imagining 
that I didn't know how real my fantasy was. My pussy was 
overflowing. 
     *Oh, God!*  I thought, in shame, and I walked quickly 
now. Embarrassment brought more excitement, and more 
evidence. At least I was walking too fast now for people to 
see. I hurried into the Mulligan Social Science Hall, and 
found a deserted corner, where I paused to collect myself. 
     This is becoming a habit, I thought to myself as I 
wiped my legs clean. I keep getting myself into these kinds 
of situations.   I want to be a good girl. I want to be a 
bad girl.  I want to do the right things -- but I want to 
break all the rules, and I don't want to be caught. Or do I? 
God, I'm messed up. I need to see a shrink. 
     Which, in a way, is why I was here. 
 
     "Linda!" Pamela shouted in surprise. She emerged from 
behind her desk to greet me. She was wearing one of those 
fashionable skin tight suits, and I felt a little more 
comfortable.  She wouldn't give me those silly Freudian 
comments, like "penis envy" or like connecting my desires to 
the death of my father. She was a good-bad girl herself. 
Besides, she was into much more unorthodox theories. 
     "Hi Pam," I said, as I wrote my name down on the 
sign-in sheet. "Not much of a crowd here." 
     She shook her head, and glanced away. "Nope, I think 
I started about twenty years too late. It was a stupid idea 
for a thesis, really. People just laugh when you say "ESP" 
today. The only people who come in are religious freaks who 
think I'm some kind of witch, and students who are desperate 
for extra credit. Why are *you* here?" 
     "Well, I'm not a religious freak, so I must be 
looking for extra credit, and I thought it would be kewl to 
get it from an old friend." 
     Pam looked at me funny. "I thought you graduated." 
     I shook my head, "Almost. I had an incomplete on a 
psych course, and I have to make it up." 
     Pam looked skeptical, but she wouldn't call me a 
liar. Why would I lie, anyway? Just to see what I could get 
away with, of course. 
     "Oh," she said. "So . . . are those the only 
reasons?" 
     I shrugged. I think she probably asked everyone who 
walked through her door about their motivations, but it had 
a special meaning for me. 
     A few years ago, when we were both undergrads, Pam 
had asked me maybe ten times to do ESP experiments with her, 
and I always refused. People talked about her behind her 
back, calling her a flake, and I didn't want to be a part of 
that. 
     But more importantly, she had a reputation as a 
lesbian, and I was strictly hetero back then. I didn't want 
to be a part of her lesbian fantasies. I always suspected 
that the ESP experiments were just a scheme to get me in 
bed. 
     But I underestimated Pam's devotion to ESP. She 
always hoped to do real research on the topic, and finally 
she had the chance as a graduate student. 
     "I thought you didn't believe in this stuff, Linda," 
Pam said, maybe feeling used, because I would do this for 
extra credit, but not just to be a good friend. 
     "I'm sorry, Pam. I guess I didn't have a very open 
mind back then. It just seemed so ... crazy, but I'm 
thinking now: if people can fly or turn invisible, anything 
is possible, right?" 
     "I never thought of it that way," Pam said, less 
angry. "But you may have been right before. We've tested 
hundreds of people, and haven't found a single hint of 
psychic ability in anyone. I don't know why I even do it 
anymore, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions, 
now." 
     "Well, let's go through the motions again," I said, 
with a smile. "You never know when the right person will 
come along." 
 
     Pam introduced me to her creation:  a kind of 
isolation booth for two people designed to keep out all 
noise and external stimuli, fascillitating psychic 
stimulation -- or so Pam says. To me it looked like one of 
those confessionals that Catholics use. It even had the 
slide-away door inside. If I could read Pam's mind, I'm sure 
I'd find out that she bought it from an old church. 
     But I couldn't read her mind, as part one of her test 
bore out. 
     Pam read silently from a passage in a book, and asked 
me what she had just read. 
     "Something about disciplining pets?" I asked. 
     "Huh? Uh, no. Just relax. Try to clear your mind," 
Pam said. 
     Next she stared at a series of photographs and asked 
me what she was looking at. 
     "Two women torturing a man?" I asked. 
     "What?" Pam laughed. "No, it's just a picture of a 
chair. They are very simple pictures, Linda. Just one 
object." 
     Then she told me that she was thinking of a part of 
her body -- that this somehow tested emotional signals. 
     "Your nose?" 
     "No," Pam replied, barely hiding her frustration. "I 
was thinking of my belly button." 
     "Oh, I knew it was something with an opening." 
     "Common, Linda, I know it sounds silly, but please 
take this seriously," she said as she turned off the light 
on her side of the booth. A moment later, my side lit up. 
"Your turn now. We are pretty sure that you aren't a 
receiver, so lets see if you are a transmitter. Remember, 
try to think only about the objects in your hand. The 
passage first . . ." 
     I licked my lips, as I picked up a sealed envelop and 
opened it. I read silently: 
     "The long playing record has withstood many 
challenges throughout the twentieth century, starting with 
wire recorders in the 1920's and then more serious 
challenges with magnetic tape technology, including reel-to- 
reel, 8-Track, and cassette tapes. Vinyl did not lose it's 
market until the advent of digitized sound, starting in the 
1980's." 
     "OK," I said, and then yawned. "What did I read?" 
     Pam paused, then asked: "Something boring?" 
     "Yeah . . .?" I said. "What else?" 
     "Something about car tires?" 
     Huh? Car tires?  "No, let me read it again," I said 
and tried to concentrate very hard on what I was reading. 
"OK, I'm done." 
     Pam paused, then finally guessed, almost desperately, 
"A chocolate donut?" 
     "No," I said, feeling defeated. "The passage was 
about phonograph records." 
     I was stunned. I had assumed she'd be able to read my 
mind -- I never even considered the possibility of failure. 
Had I just imagined having the power? What about my 
experiments with Calvin? Maybe I could only communicate with 
animals. What about the students on campus? Maybe they were 
just responding to my clothes and my attitude and the 
excitement running down my legs-- not to what I was 
thinking. 
     "Hey," Pam said, with a touch of enthusiasm, "that's 
really not so far off. I mean, they are all round objects 
with holes. Try the pictures, next." 
     I halfheartedly picked up the first photo.  It was a 
picture of a red pickup truck, driving through a field. 
     "A car," Pam instantly said. "No, a truck. Red, and a 
lot of grass." 
     I gasped, suddenly awake again. 
     "Well?" Pam asked. 
     "You got it! Dead on!" 
     "No way!" she said, trying to contain her excitement. 
Surely I must have been joking with her ... 
     "Really, here, look," I said, holding the picture up 
to where she could see. 
     Her eyes sparkled, but still she wouldn't let herself 
believe. "Try the next picture." 
     Picture #2  was the Statue of Liberty, which 
immediately reminded me of Carol. 
     "A dark haired woman," Pam said. "No, not a woman. A 
statue. The Statue of Liberty?" 
     I showed her the picture, and she almost squealed in 
delight. "Oh, finally! Finally, we have proof! A real 
transmitter! Try the next picture." 
     I was very excited, too, but a warning bell went off 
in my head. What did Pam mean by proof? Was she gonna hold 
me up as an example? Would she tell everyone about me? If an 
enemy knew he could read my mind, my power would become his 
power, and he could use it against me. I had to kill the 
experiment right now. 
     I didn't look at the next picture. I closed my eyes 
and imagined a candle stick. 
     "A candle?" Pam asked. 
     I shook my head and showed her a picture of a 
grandfather clock. 
     "Oh." Pam shrugged, but was still enthusiastic. "Just 
a fluke. Try the next one." 
     I closed my eyes and imagined myself giving Pam a 
massage. I moved my hands under the towels, around her 
breasts. Then I rolled her over and sucked on her nipples. 
     Pam paused, and when she spoke, she sounded 
embarrassed. "A, uh, massage parlor?" 
     "What?" I asked, laughing and sounding as innocent as 
I could. I showed her the picture of a personal computer. 
     "Damn," Pam said."The statue and the truck couldn't 
have just been a coincidence. Try the body part test. Just 
try and relax and think only about that one body part." 
     I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on my pussy. 
I touched myself with a finger, parting the lips, starting 
the flow. 
     Pam didn't say anything. 
     I slowly massaged my clit, imaging that my finger was 
her finger. I slipped another finger under the folds and 
pushed in deep. I hoped my excitement didn't show in my 
face. 
     Pam still said nothing. 
     I looked through the wall between us, and saw that 
Pam was shifting in her seat.  She was wet, too. I could 
smell her excitement. 
     "Well?" I asked. "What part of my body am I thinking 
of?" 
     Pam finally burst out, not wanting to say it, but she 
probably couldn't think of any other body part at this 
point. "Your pus --, uh, your genitals?" 
     "What?" I asked, trying to sound upset. 
     "Oh, I'm sorry Linda, I don't know why I thought of 
that." 
     "Really, Pam . . ." 
     "Try one more picture, please! I know we had some 
kind of connection." 
     "OK," I closed my eyes and imagined that I was 
kneeling between Pam's legs, sucking on her clit and 
squeezing her ass. She was twisting my hair in her hands and 
screaming out Linda, Oh Linda... 
     "Linda ..."  Pam whispered. She was breathing heavily 
now, and her face was almost red. 
     "Yes, Pam? What was the picture?" 
     "A woman licking..." Pam said, then took a breath, "I 
mean two women having oral sex." 
     Denying my own needs, I rushed out of the 
confessional as if in rage. Pam stumbled out behind me. I 
thought for a second that she might try to kiss me -- she 
was so excited. I don't know what I would have done if she 
had kissed me. But she collected herself and said, "I'm 
really sorry Linda. I don't know why I said those things." 
     "Well, I do," I replied. "And I'm sorry, Pam, but I'm 
not looking for a lover right now." 
     "Maybe you are right," Pam said, looking totally 
confused. "Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. But 
please keep me in mind ... when you need a friend." 
     "OK," I said, thinking I might just take her up on 
that offer someday. I turned towards the door. "Bye, Pam." 
     "But Linda ... what about the extra credit?" 
     I smiled at her, which must have confused her even 
more, and said, "That's OK. I've decided to go for the full 
course, instead.." 
 
     *Oh, that was so MEAN, Linda!* that voice called a 
conscience said. 
     I smiled. *Fuck that, it was fun! Stop second 
guessing yourself, girl. The world is yours, if you want it. 
It's a good day to be Supergirl!.* 
     Why did I always feel that when I was having fun, I 
was losing control? 
     I looked left and right as I left the Social Science 
building. A thousand students were walking around, but no 
one seemed to be watching me. They will be watching soon, I 
thought, as I removed my wig and put it in my purse. 
     People lose control when they always do what society 
wants, when they always do what someone else wants, when 
they never do what they want. 
     Pam should have done what she wanted. 
     I kicked off my shoes. One of them took off like a 
rocket and landed on the roof of the cafeteria. A man 
walking nearby stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at me 
in awe. I smiled, blushing, "Oops!" 
     I walked on the lawn along the sidewalk, feeling the 
grass between my toes. I had never done that before, even 
though my feet had begged me to for years. Why didn't I just 
do what I wanted? Who would it have hurt? 
     Now many people were watching me. Was it really so 
strange to see someone walking barefoot? Or maybe they were 
seeing into my mind, anticipating. 
     I slipped out of my jacket and dropped it on the 
ground, and kept on walking. *Litterbug*, complained my 
conscience. *Don't be silly -- it's gonna make a good 
souvenir for someone.* 
     My skin tingled from the cool air and the awareness 
that a thousand eyes were watching me. A thousand 
imaginations were seeing my thoughts. 
     So they weren't surprised when I lifted my shirt over 
my head. I tossed it high in the air. No one saw it land. 
They were watching my breasts jiggling back into place, 
finally free of that tight shirt. They were staring at my 
nipples, triggering that longing to suck, that everyone is 
born with, and no one quite completely forgets. I was sorry 
that I had only two nipples for this multitude. 
     My conscience screamed, but the voice just didn't 
bother me, anymore. Why should I be modest when everyone can 
see what I'm thinking, anyway? Wherever I go, they are 
sharing my fantasies, and I never even knew it . . . 
     I stopped walking for a moment to push my miniskirt 
down to my feet, and when I looked up, it was like the whole 
campus had stopped moving. Some people were laughing, some 
people were smiling, and some people were cheering. 
     I could barely breathe, as I shivered before their 
stares. My heart leaped whenever I heard the click of a 
camera. But this was only the beginning. 
     Weaving through the traffic jam of students were two 
cops, but before they could grab me, I floated up, just out 
of their reach, hovering above them like a very naughty 
angel. 
     I smiled. They didn't look angry, really, they were 
just doing their jobs. But I could see the hard ons in their 
pants, and it wasn't just because they had a good view of my 
wet pussy. They were feeling my excitement. The whole crowd 
was feeling it. How far did my power reach, anyway? The 
feeling was so strong, maybe all of Metropolis was feeling 
it.  Was that such a bad thing? 
     *OK, Linda, you've had your fun*, came that voice 
again. *You've given them all a thrill, now it's time to 
leave. Just fly away.* 
     *Oh, no,* I thought, shaking my head, rebelling.  *If 
you say stop, I say go. Aren't you the same voice that say's 
if you have something good, share it with everyone?* 
     I touched my dripping pussy with my fingertips, and 
spread the cum over my lips and all over the triangle. My 
gasp joined a chorus of gasps all around campus. I dropped 
my purse into the waiting hands of the police, so I could 
massage my breasts with my other hand. 
     Cameras clicked. A man right below me had a video 
camera. 
     I turned  towards him and closed my eyes. I was 
terrified and breathless, knowing that I would forever be 
remembered for this moment, for good or bad. I opened my 
legs slowly. My swollen pussy gushed like an opened melon, 
baptizing the man with the video camera. 
     The crowd was completely silent. I didn't have the 
courage to open my eyes and see how they were reacting. I 
just thought of that camera, and the aching inside. I 
stroked my clit and floated closer to the camera, until I 
could almost kiss it with my pussy.  *And now,* I thought, 
as I opened my pussy lips wide, *Look into my soul! Come 
inside! I have nothing left to hide!  Here is my fountain! 
Drink from it. Here is my body. . .* 
     A hand grabbed my leg and pulled me down into the 
hungry crowd.  I didn't open my eyes or put up a struggle. 
*Oh, take me! Pillage my body! Leave me with nothing but 
your passion anointing my body, and filling my pussy and 
mouth until I runneth over.* 
     A hand grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard. 
A voice carried over the cheers and whistles in the crowd, 
saying, "Linda! Linda, wake up!" 
     I opened my eyes. 
 
     For the second time today, Andrew shattered my dream. 
I was laying on the couch, and he stood over me in my living 
room, shaking my shoulders.  His eyes were on fire, and he 
was breathing heavily. I melted into the cushions, sure that 
he was gonna kiss me or just jump on me. But he just stood 
there, staring, his light complexion glowing bright red. 
     "Why Andy," I finally said with a smile, "I didn't 
know you cared!" 
     He stumbled backwards, and looked disoriented, as if 
coming out of a hypnotic trance. And then he was Andrew 
again. "Do your legs always pop open when you sleep?" 
     I sat up and adjusted my skirt, which had bunched up 
to my waist while I slept. "Only when I'm dreaming of you, 
Andy," I replied. 
     He spun around, half smiling, half stern, "Stop 
calling me that!"  And then he paced around the room for a 
minute, waiting for his pulse to slow and his dick to relax, 
as he spouted random complaints: "Damn, Linda, you live in 
one messed up neighborhood. Someone almost drove into me as 
I parked in your driveway, and a couple is making out across 
the street in the middle of their front yard as we speak." 
     I covered my mouth. *Oh my God, did I do that? Did 
they see into my dream? Are they living out my fantasy?  How 
about you Andrew? Were you fantasizing about me, too, while 
you watched me sleeping?* 
     "Why are you here, Andrew?" I asked again. "I thought 
you were gonna call tonight -- not come over." 
     Andrew closed the window blind and looked the room 
quickly over. He spoke with a hushed voice words he wanted 
to shout, "We've got her!" 
     "Selina?" I asked, feeling a little jealous when just 
the mention of her name excited him, making him forget his 
feelings for me in a second. 
     "We've got her cornered in an old, condemned cinema 
in Leesburg.  We already have her henchmen. I have to admire 
their loyalty. They could have saved themselves, since 
Selina was who we were really after, but they stood and 
fought, giving her a chance to get away -- a chance she 
squandered." 
     "How did you find her, in Leesburg of all places?" 
     Andrew looked up as if to the sky. "Blind luck. A 
Hail Mary play.  I watched Selina's video again after I left 
this morning, and this time I noticed that one of her 
henchmen removed his mask. I got a good image of his face, 
which I faxed to the Metropolis and Gotham TV stations, 
saying he was wanted for serial murders. If you weren't 
asleep, you would have seen his face on the news." 
     "But he never killed anyone!" I objected. I didn't 
really know that. In fact, I didn't know anything about the 
man, the cat-man, but I felt a bond, after the intimacies we 
shared. It was like: anyone who wanted to fuck me couldn't 
be all bad. 
     "Don't worry, Linda," Andrew said, surprised by my 
outburst. "We arrested him on lesser charges, and since the 
only evidence we have against him is that video tape 
(something we will never use!) he'll probably be walking the 
streets again by tomorrow.  But the important thing was that 
the news report worked.  Leesburg is a tight community that 
notices new faces. Apparently Selina and her friends thought 
it was a nice, quiet place to hide while the heat was on in 
Gotham. They dressed up in normal middle-class attire and 
checked into a Holiday Inn.  They were spotted shortly after 
that." 
     "And now you have them in custody," I concluded. 
     "Everyone but Selina, who is hiding somewhere in what 
once was a cinema. We want you to bring her out." 
     I laughed. "Why do you need me? You've got her 
trapped." 
     Andrew shook his head. "The building is really huge, 
with seven screens, and a warehouse and several office 
buildings in adjacent buildings. We have her trapped, but 
finding her could take many hours and lots of manpower." 
     "Besides," Andrew continued with a sideways glance. 
"I thought you'd want to be a part of this -- to get even 
with her for what she did to you last night." 
     I smiled, "Mmmm, it's like you can read my mind." 
 
     I wished *I* could read *his* mind. Why was he giving 
me this opportunity to meet with Catwoman alone?  Was he 
testing me, to see what I would do? Or did he have some 
other motivation? 
     I offered to fly Andrew with me to Leesburg, but he 
said that he would rather drive. It was only about a 25 
minute ride in his Legend, he said. I countered that it was 
only about a two minute flight. Personally, I thought the 
idea of flying made him nervous. He was a brave guy, but he 
was also a control freak. 
     Andrew tore out of my driveway as if he wanted to 
race me to Leesburg, while I took a moment to change into 
Supergirl. I had to think for a moment, because now I had 
two costumes, both incomplete.  My familiar blue costume was 
missing the cape.  Without the cape, my blue top just didn't 
look right, because it zipped up in the back.  My new 
costume was missing the shorts. So I had to mix and match, 
taking the white t-shirt, the red mini, and a pair of 
sneakers. Then I checked myself in the mirror, striking a 
few poses. liking what I saw. I never realized how boring 
wearing the same costume year after year was until I played 
around with my appearance a bit. 
     Maybe next week I'd try something more fashionable -- 
maybe something with black tights, a black jacket, and this 
white t-shirt. God, that would look great! No blue at all. 
All black and white, and just that little touch of red on my 
chest. Maybe shiny red shoes, too. I was getting the hang of 
this fashion thing! 
     But this wasn't the time to think about it. I tore 
myself from the mirror and barely opened my front door 
before flying through it. I wanted to have a few moments 
with Selina before Andrew arrived 
     Really, I could get there in under two minutes, but 
it's very hard to follow the landscape at high speeds, 
especially at night. Once I was past the bright lights of 
Metropolis, everything was dark, and I had to follow the 
highway, or I'd get lost.  Leesburg was not an easy city to 
see from the night sky, and when I found it, I wasn't sure 
where to even look for the old cinema. 
     But that turned out to be very easy, because there 
were seven cop cars encircling it with flashing blue and 
white lights. I floated down to the main entrance, 
where maybe ten years ago someone could buy tickets, but 
today the windows were broken, and conflicting signs said 
"For Rent" and "Condemned". 
     "Hello, Supergirl." the officer in charge greeted me 
and shook my hand firmly, but he was clearly annoyed. He 
looked overdressed for such a warm night.  "I'm Sergeant 
Danvers. We wanted to take her out ourselves, and teach the 
rest of those punks from Gotham to stay in their own damned 
city, but we were ordered to wait and let you get her." 
     I nodded, but I wasn't really paying much attention 
to what he was saying. The flashlight tucked into his belt 
caught my eye. It was about eight inches long, and about as 
thick and smooth as the head of a beer bottle. "It looks 
very dark inside," I commented casually. 
     Danvers nodded, "We don't dare turn on the 
electricity. This place hasn't been lit up for as long as 
I've been here, and who knows what shape the wiring is in." 
     "Would you mind if I borrowed your flashlight?" 
     Danvers handed the light over, but eyed me 
suspiciously. "I read in the Planet that Superman can see in 
nearly complete darkness." 
     I smiled, "Superman has a few things that I don't 
have." 
     Danvers opened the door like a gentleman, ushering me 
inside, where it was as black as coal, and the flashlight 
really did come in handy. I was hoping to locate Selina with 
my x-ray vision, but it was too dark. I couldn't even make 
out infrared patterns. There was something strange about 
these walls.  I examined them more closely and saw that all 
the paint was chipped and old.  Lead paint. I walked around 
for about a minute, flashing the light everywhere, but 
realizing that it would take hours to find her this way. 
There were dozens of rooms and hundreds of places to hide. 
     Maybe since I couldn't find her with my eyes, I could 
find her with my other senses. Maybe I could hear her 
breathing or maybe even hear her heart beating, and then 
follow the sound to her hiding place. Unfortunately, I was 
hearing about ten different heartbeats. The cops surrounding 
the building had hearts and lungs, too. My own heart beat 
seemed to echo off the walls. No I wasn't gonna find her 
with my ears. 
     That's when I noticed a faint, slightly musky scent 
in the air, contrasting with the smells of decay. It was 
Selina's perfume -- the same perfume that made me dizzy last 
night. God, was that really last night?  It seemed longer 
ago than that, though every second was etched into my 
memory. The perfume didn't make me dizzy now. It made me 
hungry. 
     I followed the scent into one of the theaters, and 
then walked aimlessly around, trying to sense where it was 
coming from. I had never tracked someone this way before, 
and I figured there must be a trick to it. Just go where the 
scent is strongest, I thought, but her scent seemed to be 
just as strong throughout the theater. I aimed the 
flashlight at all of the seats, down every isle. There was 
nowhere to hide. There was no balcony, no curtains, no 
doors. Maybe this was some kind of trick. Maybe Selina 
sprayed some perfume in the air here. 
     That's when I noticed a thin denim jacket draped over 
a seat in the very center of the theater. I felt a burst of 
excitement, even though I knew Selina wasn't hiding there. 
Tucked under the jacket was a skirt and a pair of high 
heeled shoes.  I could smell Selina's perfume in the 
clothes, but it was faint -- too faint. Selina must have 
just been here a moment ago, but where could she have gone? 
     Why wasn't her scent getting weaker? If anything it 
seemed even stronger than it was a moment ago. And I felt 
something different, something that didn't make sense. I 
felt a slight breeze. When the breeze blew over me, so did 
Selina's scent. 
     Finally I looked up, and I saw a vent in the very 
center of the ceiling. The vent had no screen.  When I aimed 
the flashlight at it, two eyes glowed back at me, and then 
they were gone, as footsteps hurried along the roof. 
     I put the flashlight in the elastic of my skirt. I 
flew up through the vent, pushing a fan and a small metal 
door out of the way. and I stepped out onto the roof. The 
fan fell back through the vent and landed with loud crash in 
the theater below. 
     The Catwoman was crouching thirty yards away, looking 
over the edge of the building at several cops below, who 
were having a coffee and donut break, oblivious to her 
presence. She glanced about frantically, like a cat trapped 
in a corner. Then, finally she turned to face me. 
     She was dressed just like at the museum. She looked 
magnificent under the stars and the moonlight. I walked 
casually towards her. "It's OK, kitty, I have a treat for 
you." 
     "Stay away from me!" she hissed, and to further 
demonstrate her hostility, she lashed out at me with her 
whip. 
     I caught the whip in my hand, and pulled her towards 
me as if it was a leash. 
     Then she lashed out with her claws, tearing holes in 
my shirt. "Hey!" I objected, while spinning her around and 
wrapping her hands behind her back with the whip. I 
whispered in her ear. "I don't have any more of these 
shirts. Watch it or I'll have to declaw you." 
     Now, we were standing at the edge of the roof where 
the cops only had to look away from their donuts for a 
second, and they would see us. I had Selina in a wrestling 
hold, with one hand gently squeezing her breast, the other 
on her thigh. Her mask felt like satin against my cheek. 
     "What do you want?" she whispered back,  not wanting 
to draw the attention of the police. 
     I loosened my grip and let my hands wander over her 
sheer purple outer skin. When my fingers neared her pussy, 
she fought with me, turning around, pushing me between 
herself and the ledge. Now our breasts touched each other, 
and I looked up into her eyes. My memories of last night 
paralyzed me for a moment. I felt my knees going weak, and 
her scent eating away at my strength. Selina repeated, now 
more confident,  "I said, `What do you want with me?'" 
     *No, Selina, I'm in charge tonight!*  I squeezed her 
ass and kissed her hard,  touching her tongue with mine. She 
was startled, and she took a step backwards.  "I just want 
to return the favor you gave me last night." 
     Selina struggled hopelessly to escape my grasp. She 
only succeeded in slipping on the gravel covered roof, and 
she fell flat on her back, with me on top of her. In this 
position, she couldn't even struggle against my will. 
     "No," she warned, as I reached up to her mask and 
lifted it over her head. She looked away, not wanting me to 
see her face. 
     "Why don't you want me to see you?" I whispered. 
"Remember? I saw you before, on the train. Why do you wear a 
mask? I think you are beautiful." 
     She sneered at me and said.  "We all wear masks --" 
she started 
     But I swallowed the rest of her reply with another 
kiss. Her leg brushed against my thigh, and I could smell 
her excitement growing. "Mmm, that was nice," she purred 
with a naughty smile. "I'd like to hold you in my arms, if 
you'd just untie my arms." 
     I shook my head, and slowly tore at her costume with 
my fingernails. 
     "Why not?" She demanded. Her voice was almost panicky 
as I slowly climbed down her body. "I thought you wanted to 
please me." 
     "I do." I said, smiling back up at her, and then I 
wrapped my lips around her bare nipple, tickling it with my 
tongue. Selina squirmed and gasped.  "But make no mistake, 
this is revenge." 
     I climbed further down, tearing her costume in the 
middle as I moved, and licking her skin as soon as it was 
exposed. 
     "This isn't what you want," Selina tried to reason 
with me. "You want some more of what I gave you last night, 
right? Let me loose, and you won't regret it." 
     "Open up, and shut up!" I said, as I pushed her legs 
apart. I kissed her inner thighs, as my hands reached up to 
squeeze her breasts. Her pussy was wet, and her tights were 
stained by excitement. I was about to tear the fabric away, 
but I liked the silky feeling against my cheek. "This is 
what I want. I wanted to do this ever since I met you on the 
train." 
     "No!" she cried out loudly enough to be heard by the 
police below, when I licked the length of her pussy. The 
stain spread out across the fabric. 
     "Be a good little kitty," I whispered, before I 
wrapped my lips over her clit.  Her hips involuntarily rose 
to give me better access. 
     "No," she cried out again, "you don't understand. You 
can't make me come." 
     "Come kitty," I demanded, as I tickled her clit with 
my tongue, stroking it in tiny circles at a speed that even 
a vibrator couldn't match. "Here, kitty, kitty." 
     Selina shivered and screamed and gushed so that her 
tights couldn't absorb her juices any more.  I bit a tiny 
hole in the fabric, letting her excitement escape. 
     "No," she cried out again, "you really don't 
understand. I can't come at all." 
     I climbed up her body again, so I could see her eyes 
when she came. I wanted to swallow her screams.  "We'll 
see about that," I said, as I broke through the fabric with 
the flashlight, parting her pussy lips.  The invasion took 
her by surprise. I pushed it in until she moaned. 
     "You can't . . .oh!" she cried, when I pushed the 
flashlight deeper. I pushed in until her pussy couldn't take 
any more. I pushed it in and out, faster and faster. *Give 
in,* I thought, trying to will her into submission. I kissed 
her hard, trying to suck out her resistance. I expected for 
her to stop saying no at any moment, and to scream out 
instead at the top of her lungs: "YES!" 
     Instead, she shook her mouth free from my kiss. "STOP 
IT!" she cried out, surprising me with the desperation in 
her voice. "PLEASE!" 
     And I did. In an instant, the emotion was completely 
shot. 
     I could see anguish and need in her eyes. She looked 
like I must have looked last night, on the edge of coming, 
but not there. Why did she beg me to stop? 
     "So now you know, Supergirl," she confessed with 
shame and tears in her eyes. "I can't come. I've never been 
able to have an orgasm. I've tried with many lovers, but no 
one could make me come. There is nothing more frustrating! 
It is frustrating to my lovers as well, and that's why I 
have none." 
     I looked away, feeling very bad. I never wanted to 
hurt her like this. I only wanted to give her the same 
wonderful, humiliating, overwhelming, devastating, mind- 
shattering orgasm she gave me last night. "I'm sorry Selina, 
I had no idea." 
     "Andrew never told you?" She said. "What the hell did 
he tell you? That damned egotistic sonofabitch never could 
face the truth." 
     "Quiet!" a voice said from the darkness, and Andrew 
stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. 
     Selina sneered at him, "You never could accept it!" 
And then she whispered to me, ignoring him, "Haven't you 
ever wondered why he is so mad at me? It's not because of 
something I did. He knew who I was when he got involved with 
me. No, it's because of something I didn't do, something I 
couldn't do..." 
     "Shut up!" Andrew commanded. 
     "Something he couldn't do for me!" Selina yelled 
back. 
     Andrew looked at the ground. "I tried my best. I 
would have done anything for you, but you just gave up." 
     "So you sent Supergirl after me? Why?" She said to 
Andrew. I felt as though they were talking through me -- as 
though I wasn't even there. 
     Andrew shrugged.  "At first I only wanted for her to 
bring you back to me. But after last night . . .I thought if 
anyone could please you, she could." 
     "Well, congratulations, to both of you," Selina said 
bitterly. "All either of you have succeeded in doing is 
torturing me, giving me a need that no one can satisfy." 
     Andrew and I looked at each other. I felt a little 
angry at him, too, for using me yet again, but mostly I 
shared his anguish. Like him, despite all of my powers, I 
couldn't give Selina a pleasure that I've always taken for 
granted. A pleasure that always came so easy for me. A 
feeling . . . 
     "I, uh, think I know how to give Selina what she 
needs," I said,. "I have a special power that might help." 
     Andrew and Selina stared at me as if I had three 
eyes. 
     Andrew finally asked, "What power might that be?" 
     "Let's just say that I think I can share my orgasm 
with you." 
     "Well," Selina said, "The way I feel right now, I'd 
be willing to try almost anything. But do I have to have my 
fucking hands tied?" 
     I helped her up, and untied her hands. "I think we 
will need Andrew's help to make this work." 
     Andrew raised his hands defensively and laughed, "Oh, 
now wait a minute . . ." 
     "Common, Andy," Selina teased, "Aren't you just a 
little bit interested in doing it with two women." 
     "Yeah, Andy," I pushed him further. "That gun in your 
pocket is growing as we speak." 
     "Don't call me `Andy'!" He said, pointing a finger, 
but the idea did interest him. "What do you want me to do." 
     "Well, first thing," I said, while lifting my shirt 
over my head, "you need to get as naked as we are. And then 
you need to make love to both of us at the same time. When I 
come, she will come." 
     "But how?" He said, while unbuttoning his shirt. "I 
only have one dick." 
     "Try this," I said, handing him the flashlight, 
before I stepped out of my skirt. His eyes locked on my 
shaved pussy, and I wish he could have seen the smile that 
brought to my face.  I encouraged his naughty thoughts with 
a quick kiss. "Don't worry about how; I have faith in you. 
You have other resources besides your dick." 
     Selina grabbed my arm and hissed in my ear, "This had 
better work." 
     I urged her to lie down with me, on our sides, facing 
each other, and our legs spread halfway, one leg in the air. 
"Keep looking at my eyes, don't look at Andrew," I said, as 
I gently caressed her face. 
     Andrew went to work immediately -- apparently he 
wanted the job more than he let on. He pushed the flashlight 
into Selina's pussy, while he chose to eat mine. Our eyes 
lit up together, and I knew Selina was feeling the wonderful 
feeling that burst through me when Andrew sucked on my pussy 
lips. Was this feeling new to her?  Could she feel my pussy 
swelling up with juices? Was her body tingling all over? 
Yes, I could see it in her eyes. 
     We caressed each other's breasts, while Andrew got 
more aggressive. I didn't see what he was doing to Selina, 
but what he was doing to me was wonderful! He grabbed my ass 
with one hand and plunged his face deep into my hole. My leg 
shivered, as I struggled to keep it from trapping him 
inside. 
     Selina and I were breathing together. Our eyes were 
glistening. Even our hearts were beating as one. Oh, God, 
Andrew, just a little longer. Don't get tired now! 
     Then Andrew found my clit, and he sucked on it hard! 
He licked it fast and furiously. 
     Selina and I pawed at other, and we cried out 
Andrew's name. Our breathing was irregular, and we felt a 
growing, overwhelming ache inside. This was where lovemaking 
had always ended for Selina before tonight -- with a deep 
and agonizing emptiness, needed to be filled. 
     I saw the fear in her eyes, as she worried that 
suddenly it would end here, leaving her desperate for 
fulfillment. I touched her face and smiled, thinking of how 
much this must have meant to her. I thought of how much good 
I could bring into her life. 
     Andrew pushed two fingers deep within me, pushing us 
over the edge. Tears ran down our eyes, as a loud humm 
seemed to shake the roof. And then, slowly, we came back to 
reality, and found ourselves looking into each other's eyes. 
Our faces were glowing, and we were both smiling widely. I 
doubt anyone had ever seen Selina smile so beautifully 
before. I wanted to get closer to her, to see what was 
behind her eyes . . . 
     . . . and that's when I knew that this was just the 
beginning of a bigger relationship. 
     We kissed very gently, very lovingly. This was a very 
special moment for her, and somehow that made it special for 
me, too. 
     "Hey," came a voice as if from afar. "What about me?" 
     Selina and I grinned mischievously at each other. We 
were thinking the same thing. "Oh, yeah, we forgot about you 
Andrew. Thanks." Selina said, then giggled. 
     "No," Andrew said, "I mean, isn't anyone gonna get me 
off?" 
     I looked at Selina, she looked at me, and we both 
shook our heads. 
     "I think I'll let you see what it feels like for a 
while," Selina said. 
     "Tell you what," I added. "If you bring our clothes 
back to my place, we may be able to work something out. Next 
time we want multiple orgasms." 
     And with that, I grabbed Selina and whisked her off 
into the air, away from the police, and away from Andrew who 
was screaming bloody-murder after us. 

-tooshoes@cris.com 
 
 
 

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