Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 14

Chapter 14: Giving Thanks, Receiving Gifts

“Morning, babe!” Sharon smiled and stretched beneath the covers, having felt the gentle kiss.

“Morning, S-” her eyes snapped open… she had almost said ‘Shaun.’ She had not said it, had she? “Sweetheart!” she finished in a rush, seeing Chris leaning over her.

“I didn’t think you were going to be home before Monday or Tuesday.” She shrugged, as memories of the night before fell into place.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” she said, then put on a feigned pout, “But you were sleeping like a log.” In truth, Kelly had quietly helped her out of the chaps in the mud room. Sharon had debated hiding the garment in the Ranger Rover, but had decided against going outside in the clothes she was barely wearing. Kelly had barely been able to contain the laughter at the combination of an oversized rivals sweatshirt and chaps… and almost nothing else.

The women had showered together, the knowing touch of the younger woman quickly helping the thoroughly used housewife to relax. Without a second thought she’d dropped to her knees, burying her face in Kelly’s permanently manicured pubes to lick and suck at her ‘Sister.’ Kelly had responded with a husky moan, undulating against Sharon’s probing tongue. Her hand tangled in Sharon’s hair as she held the older woman against her aroused, needing sex.

She’d moaned loudly that she was going to cum, then gasped at how good Sharon was at eating her out, which had pushed the married black cock slut to lick faster and suck harder. As her first climax had eased, Kelly had leaned against the shower wall, sliding down until she could return her friend and lover’s attention. Less than 10 minutes after slipping into her home, with her ****** asleep in their beds, Sharon had cried out into Kelly’s aroused sex as the women thrashed beneath the shower spray in a shimmering mutual climax. Much of the evening’s fear and discomfort forgotten, Sharon had sat up, an arm draped around Kelly as she had described her day.

It was no surprise to Sharon that the game had been supposed to be an ‘easy’ win for their school. That explained why Shaun would have bet her on the game’s outcome, she thought with relief. Even so, Kelly could not believe her friend had been left to take care of the entire opposing football team. Sharon blushed, trying to assure her friend it could not have been the whole team, even as she shivered, wondering just how many young men had been inside of her. She was certainly still sore enough to wonder.

Kelly had explained Dave had given her the job of driving the Range Rover to catch up to her at home, once they knew where she was and where she would be going. Sharon was pleased that when she had been ‘lost’ Shaun and Dave had been quick to get ZB Brothers from their school on the job of tracking her down and tacking care of her. She did not really consider the night could have been much worse-- she knew her job was to service any ZB member wherever she met them, however they wanted. She still did not wonder if students and alumni from different universities might not have her best interest in mind, or care that Shaun and Dave wanted her given ‘special treatment.’ She could not know that her special circumstances, and the notoriety and coin she was bringing in to their specific House was enough to make her a target in other ZB eyes.

She was worried at first at what Kelly had said to Chris and the kids when she arrived in Sharon’s car without Sharon, but Kelly laughed, assuring her ‘someone had been watching’ so she had been called and told when she could safely arrive. In fact, she had not been waiting 30 minutes before Sharon had been deposited by the young cycle jock.

Giggling, the younger woman had teasingly pointed out that there would be harder questions to answer if anyone found them in a tangle on the floor of the shower. Sharon had blushed, but agreed, and the stunning pair had reluctantly climbed out of the shower to towel off as she had continued telling Kelly about her evening. Kelly had winced at the awful bruising on Sharon’s unpierced nipple, and the vaguely hand shaped bruising that marred her left hip. Sharon remembered the teammates smacking her there as they’d been riding her. Rubbing it gingerly, she had admitted to Kelly she suspected they had intentionally done it for just that reason, if only because Shaun had insisted that she was not to be marked up.

She also told her friend and fellow stripper how hot the motorcycle ride had made her. Just remembering the exhilaration of the wind roaring over her body and the powerful throb of the motor transmitted through the seat nestled snugly between her thighs, the married housewife felt a spark of arousal or need light. Biting her lip, she had slipped into the cool water of the pool, aware she should have stopped to get a suit, but consoling herself with the fact that her ****** was asleep and the pool lights were off. Kelly slipped into the pool as well, her quiet movement reassuring Sharon her friend knew they had to be careful. They hugged, bodies undulating in the cool water, which did nothing to ease the pressure of need she had been feeling at the ride’s end… an almost undeniable urge by the time he had coasted to a stop right outside her home.

Kelly’s skilled fingers slipped easily between the folds of Sharon’s sex, and despite the abuse they had endured in the preceding hours, it was pure pleasure Sharon felt as the younger woman deftly brought her off. She had returned the favor without considering where she was or how she had come to be so comfortable in all things sexual. Stifling giggles that they had ‘gotten pretty loud’ the women climbed out of the pool, dried off, and after a passionate ‘good night kiss’ Kelly had padded off to Catherine’s room. Sharon had carefully wrapped the costume ‘uniform’ in the oversized hoodie she had been wearing. Grateful that there were robes in the pool house, she had slipped upstairs and into her own bedroom. To her relief, Chris had remained sound asleep.

She had taken the time to hide ‘her’ clothes-- for some reason she could not bring herself to simply throw them away. After pausing in the bathroom to reapply the ointment she had been given, she had tucked the baggie into her purse, and had donned a pair of worn, comfortable sweats before she had slipped ever so carefully into bed beside her husband. He had snored on, ******* of her arrival or presence.



Given how much she had done and how little she had eaten, sleep had quickly claimed Sharon, and had almost led to her mistake upon waking. The awful possibilities if she had said ‘Shaun’ propelled the tired housewife into full awareness. Anxious to move beyond the potentially disastrous faux pas, she sat up, throwing her arms around Chris,

“Mmmm, Sweetheart,” she repeated with the energy and feigned delight of an experienced stripper, never realizing the easy use of her ‘stage persona’ with her husband, “I missed you!” He hugged her back, smiling broadly… cluelessly.

“I’m glad; I’ve missed you, too. Sorry I didn’t realize when you got in,” he relaxed his grip, letting her shift away as he gave her a lascivious wink, “If I’d known I was going to have such sexy company I would’ve stopped at two glasses of wine.” Sharon giggled, biting her lower lip and batting her eyes in ‘just the right way,’ as she pressed a hand firmly against his collarbone, increasing the space between them.

“Whoa, cowboy! You were drinking without me?” she pouted playfully. Chris eyes widened… she almost laughed at the way he looked like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry, babe, I didn’t mean…” She leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.

“I’m just teasing, honey,” she had to resist the urge to lick his lip teasingly as she backed away. “I’m glad you aren’t just moping around the house while I’m at school.” Chris relaxed, and Sharon did too-- he did not suspect at all. “Did Flora go home for the holiday?” Their housekeeper usually took the Thanksgiving holiday to go to South America… Central America? She could ever remember.

“No, she’s going for the New Year this year… I asked her to stay to help since we see so little of you,” Chris was climbing out of bed and missed Sharon’s uncovered look of surprise-- Flora’s bedroom window looked out over the pool.

“Oh, that’s good,” she managed, trying to tell herself it was impossible-- the little wizened woman had been asleep. “I thought I might have to get up to make breakfast.” Chris poked his head out of the bathroom door, smiling ‘that smile.’

“Hmmm,” he stepped out, hands going to the tie of his sleep trousers, “Now that you mention it, we don’t have to be out of bed for a little while.” Sharon tried to understand what she was feeling… it certainly was not arousal. She knew she should feel ashamed about that. Chris smiled, not understanding why she was blushing.

“I-I’m not sure what you mean,” Sharon managed, opting for the ‘innocent naïve’ act that served well in the club.

“Oh, that’s all right,” Chris assured her, bracing a knee against the bed and moving up beside her, “I’ll show you.” And then he was pulling her close. Sharon let him kiss her, kissed back hard, making the right noises as his tongue thrust against her lips and his fingers roamed over her body atop the sweats. Biting her lower lip again when he broke the kiss, she dropped her fingers to tease his erection through his pants. Chris groaned, smiling at her, “See, I told you I’d show you.”

Sharon managed a nod, struggling to remember how she was supposed to behave as his demure, rather plain wife. She could tell he was not going to be interested in much foreplay, and was relieved he wouldn’t see her bruised breasts. His fingers caught the waistband of her sweat bottoms, yanking them down forcefully. Sharon allowed a gasp of shock, which only spurred him on. Moving over he, he pressed himself down, his erection against her mons, his sleep pants still on. She writhed beneath him, moaning.

“Need to get these off,” he panted, reaching down to awkwardly push at his bottoms. Nodding her head, Sharon caught the waistband, helping to push them down. She found his knees were pinning her pants in place just above her knees so she could not spread her legs like she wanted to. She blushed, realizing the ‘real’ Sharon would not be wantonly spreading her legs, welcoming Chris’ thrusts.

She was distracted though, too aware that she was anything but aroused. She worried that Chris would realize when he thrust into her, and worried, too, that it would hurt. Without considering it, she was trying to find a memory to jump start her libido… something to spark arousal. Unbidden, the memory of Dave thrusting into her there in the same bed filled her mind. Her breath caught, excitement sparking, but too late.

“Oh yeah!” Chris nearly shouted, pushing at her, trying to thrust into her, his erect cock moving along the crease between her labia and thigh. Sharon shimmied her hips, dutifully trying to catch the driving head, to take him into her sex. She could feel her juices beginning to flow, but knew she was not wet yet. Chris was *******, though, lifting his head back, lips skinned back in a feral grin as he thrust at her again and again and again. Sharon tried to flex her knees, opening herself, wanting him to be inside of her… this was her husband, after all. After several more futile thrusts, he managed to seat himself, purely by accident.

Sharon was relieved but he seemed ******* he’d just been against her, not inside of her. She groaned, pushing up against him, wishing she could feel him more… wondering why they felt so disconnected; she assured herself it was just that she had been away for too long. Aware she could not prolong the coupling until he might want her to take off the sweat top, Sharon stopped thinking about anything except getting Chris off. She whimpered, thrashing her head and shivering as he huffed over her.

“You’ve missed this,” he panted, “Didn’t know how much you needed it, did you?” Sharon went with it, nodding eagerly, then moaning,

“Yeah, daddy!” she cooed, “God, I love you!” And she meant that, she knew. Even if she was not close to getting off. “Keep doing that!” she groaned as he moved higher, pushing his thrusting shaft against her clit, triggering a steady beat of pleasure. She smiled, pleased that she was feeling pleasure from their coupling.

“I… love… you… too!” Chris thrusting became less coordinated. He slowed, dipping lower in her waking sex.

“No baby!” she urged, “Don’t slow down… don’t stop!” He reared up, abruptly. “Is it safe?” Sharon frowned for a moment, wondering what he meant. Of course she was safe she’d had… She blushed again, trying to calculate something she had stopped worrying about; she could not very well tell Chris she had had an IUD placed.

“I… I,” she shook her head, pushing against his chest, answering instinctively, “Yes, but it’s about that time… Dammit, and always right when we have some time together.” Chris did not answer, except to bury his head at the base of her neck, jack hammering against her a last few disjointed times before he threw his head back,

“Ahhhh!” He went still, thrust fully against her. Barely inside of her, a part of Sharon’s mind judged critically, even as the distracted wife thrashed and feigned a mutual climax. She lay panting unnecessarily when he rolled away a moment later, fingers tracing her still bared hip. “Guess I still got it.” he smiled, leaning over to kiss her again.

“You do, baby,” she agreed, kissing him again, hating that she was lying to him. He settled back onto his side of the bed. Sharon considered what had just happened. She was relieved he had not suspected she was not ready, had not considered she was faking it, and certainly had not noticed she ‘felt’ any different from before. But she was also horrified at how easily she had chosen to fool him, and felt no small alarm that sex with her husband DID feel different to her. Glad that she had not been too sore to accept his obvious interest, Sharon told herself it was just the overuse she had experienced the day before that was interfering with her enjoying sex with her husband.

“Do you ever consider trying a different position, babe?” she started, wondering if maybe doggy style might feel better. But Chris was snoring softly, having already fallen asleep after they had finished.

Sharon slipped out of the bed, showered thoroughly, and applied more of the salve before she headed downstairs in another of the few matched sweat suits that she had purchased before heading to school.

Any thought Flora had slept through the prior night’s fun was dashed when Sharon saw the number of place settings that were arranged about the kitchen table. But when the diminutive woman turned through the kitchen door carrying a tray of glasses and a pitcher of orange juice, she gave no indication that she had noticed anything inappropriate.

“Good morning!” she said, smiling broadly, drawing out ‘ing’ to ‘een,’ “Mr. Chris will be so glad you are home.” Sharon laughed and nodded, blushing at the same time.

“He’s already proven that, Flora… so I expect he may miss breakfast.” The little woman clicked her tongue.

“They all may, but it’s Saturday. Is okay. Are you and your friend going to do some shopping?” Sharon noticed no hidden meaning there. She shrugged.

“I’m sure we’ll go out, you’re right… But if we don’t wait and take Cathy along she’ll never forgive me.” Flora nodded, asking if Sharon wanted some coffee. She nodded, even as she dove into the plate of still steaming huevos rancheros the housekeeper had uncovered on the table. She began to eat without really considering the last time she had enjoyed a real meal… the last time she and Kelly had been home. She had a second helping, as well as bacon and chorizo links that Flora provided, enjoying several of the friend flour tortilla quarters that supplanted the usual bread or muffins.

She also paged through the paper, eyeing the lead story about the stunning football loss. There on the front page, in a small window beside the large image of the victorious team celebrating as they left the field, the scoreboard behind them, she saw a picture of Mr. Luthor. The paper identified him as a ‘local business man and booster’ and quoted his ‘shock’ at how completely outplayed the team had been. He added that the loss had surprised the Vegas bookmakers, as well.

Staring at the photo, which she could tell had been taken at the party where she had been the day before, Sharon thought for a dizzying moment there would be an image of her being used by the team on next page. She shuddered, ashamed at how the thought had somehow left her aroused. Did she want to be ******* as such a slut? Pushing away from the table, she thanked Flora, adding that she was going to the basement to exercise.



The day passed incredibly quickly. The kids were anxious to get Sharon caught up with what was going on at home, and each was insistent they ‘had’ to go out to one place or another. She and Kelly laughed with her children on the way to the mall where they spent the day shopping, eating, and seeing a movie. When Kelly asked why Chris had not come along, Sharon shrugged, explaining he had always been a ‘homebody’ and usually let she or Flora take the kids out. Most of the time, she was sure, the kids now drove themselves. But Kelly agreed spending time with Scott and Cathy was fun.

More than once Sharon found herself watching the others, wondering how her lover could be so much like her ********… both her children, for that matter. They laughed with familiarity about topics that left her puzzled. They enjoyed the same music on the way to the mall, chose the same meal at the expansive food court, and championed the same horror movie. Cathy and Kelly liked the same outfits in American Eagle and Forever 21. Eyeing her youngest, Sharon admitted she had fully expected he was already sexually active-- he was a boy and a football player and girls were forever hanging around the house. But somehow she had deluded herself-- Catherine was too pure and naïve to have become involved with the few boys who had gotten up the guts to ask her out. Seeing she and Kelly laughing and whispering and eyeing the young men doing the same to her ******** and friend, Sharon realized she had been fooling herself.

And when the girls stopped at the Piercing Pagoda and Catherine insisted she wanted to find earrings like the hanging crystal and onyx ZB work Kelly was wearing, Sharon found herself wondering if her ******** was really the naïve one… would she have been so easily swept into the situation in which she found herself? As Kelly shrugged and looked at the various offerings with Catherine, Sharon tried to convince herself the girls were smarter-- Kelly had no boyfriend, much less a husband, so she had little to lose if people found out what she was doing at school. With that flimsy explanation, the nervous white housewife let her kids and fellow dancer convince her that the zombie movie ‘wouldn’t be that bad.’ She did not wonder at the relief she had felt when Cathy settled on crystal spiral earrings instead of asking anymore about the ZB jewelry. And once the movie started-- she and the girls screaming, Scott laughing-- her musings, like the day’s earlier worries, were forgotten.



Monday morning Chris had golf. Flora had church. The kids had school activities-- Scott’s football team was still in the running for state and the coach had insisted on two a day practices during the break. Catherine was on the cheerleading squad, and they had decided to practice too, ‘if the football players had to.’

The women enjoyed a repeat of the nocturnal skinny dip, Kelly laughing when Sharon hesitated, which quickly spurred the older woman to dive into the water. It was a colder morning-- November in the Midwest gets cold-- but Chris had always insisted on keeping their pool open longer than other people, and had invested in a better heater for the pool, as well as gas heaters spaced along the patio. When Kelly commented she had not expected the pool to be open, Sharon assured her some years they had never closed it down.

As they were toweling off, after a delicious sometimes submerged 69, Kelly gestured at Sharon’s mons, asking if she was going to ‘get her touch up.’ Sharon paused, aware that she had heard that before, but unable to remember when or where. Pouting, she shook her hips, asking if her young female lover didn’t like what they’d just done. Kelly laughed, assuring her she had, but pointing out there were some ‘stray hairs’ she needed to get taken care of.

“Gray hairs?!” Sharon huffed, then laughed at Kelly’s response. She knew what the younger woman had said, but enjoyed the response from teasing her. Sharon had resumed using a razor periodically on the few hairs that had grown back. She was still amazed so few were growing, and almost asked Kelly if there was something they had done to so totally inhibit regrowth. She absently stroked her nearly bare mons, wondering aloud how long it would be before she could try another pattern of pubic hair, and pouting about what would happen if Shaun wanted a different design.

Kelly laughed, thinking her lover was teasing her again, and flippantly assuring Sharon the former basketball star would not want something different, and adding they could always get Sharon a merkin if necessary. When Sharon discovered, thanks to her iPhone, what a merkin was, the shocked blonde chased the giggling younger stripper through the house until they reached the basement exercise room where they spent another delicious hour practicing the routines they had been working on, not the least of which was just how far they could go without their simulated sex becoming the real thing.

Both women enjoyed the roast and vegetables Flora had prepared, once everyone was home. Kelly asked why Flora had gone to church on a Monday, and Sharon shrugged, but assured her lover that the little housekeeper went more days then not, adding that at least she did not try to push her views on others. By the time the others were back, the women were cleaned up and ready for another day mall hopping.

Flora had thrown a cornbread hamburger casserole in the oven which everyone enjoyed, talking about what had happened and what was planned for the day and the coming holiday. As was the usual habit, everyone helped to clean the table, and then Scott headed to his room for an afternoon of ‘hard core gaming.’

Sharon was a bit relieved when Cathy begged off of shopping with them, citing a return to the nearest mall with her friends. She could tell Kelly was interested in hanging with the younger girls, and made a mental note to ask her ******** to include her friend, knowing they would be doing more shopping around the holiday. Once the pair was in her luxury SUV headed for the highway, Sharon admitted that she was glad she had Kelly along for the first trip of the afternoon. When Kelly asked for more information, the pretty blonde housewife refused to answer, even when Kelly’s tickling and teasing threatened to get her off in the driver’s seat. Straightening the weaving truck, she headed to the mall Dave had taken her to just a few months before.

As they parked, Kelly looked around, then looked back at her friend, raising an eyebrow.

“Slumming?”

“Is it that obvious?” Kelly shrugged, intrigued.

“So what are we doing here?” Sharon blushed.

“You said I needed a touch up… This is where… where…” she could not bring herself to finish. Kelly turned up her nose.

“Seriously?” Sharon was relieved her friend had the same visceral reaction to their present location she had… She had spent no small amount of time after that day wondering if she was racist. The mall’s façade was a faded brown, the dark smoked glass doors they were approaching somehow seeming dull. There were cracks throughout the asphalt parking lot, some big enough she would have considered using her truck’s four wheel drive to navigate.

And while there were other nice cars… nicer cars, with gold rims and pneumatic shocks, she had seen driving in from the highway… the majority of the cars were a dozen years or more older than the vehicles populating the mall they had visited Sunday. And the vehicles had led a much harder life in those years, with mismatched or missing panels, and more dents and dings and rust spots then was usually the case.

People with seemingly nothing better to do were lounging outside the entrance, smoking. Sharon remembered how completely ******* she had felt walking in with Dave the last time… This was little better, even though she was not dressed like a street walker. In truth, both women had chosen short skirts-- a shorter skirt than Sharon would have ever worn before her return to school. The lacy bra she had selected from the few she found acceptable in her drawer at home was partially visible through the thin button front blouse she had chosen, leaving a daring 4 buttons open. The change in her taste was lost on the black hooked co-ed, in part because Kelly was almost an exact match. And it did not matter that every eye was fixed on them, and the knots of people-- men and women apart-- made no effort to seem to be talking about anyone but them; it was no different than walking around on campus.

Both women sighed in relief upon entering the mall. It was not the frigid brightly lit space of the day before… High ceilings were still somehow gloomy, lost in the inadequate light of posts spaced thirty feet apart and only ten feet above the plain, stained cement walk. Despite the darker ambiance, the air was noticeably warmer… was the heat on just because it was November?

Trying to remember where they had gone, Sharon led the way, refusing to look at the people staring at them, doubly glad Kelly was there as well. Both women were acutely aware of the whispers and occasional cat calls that followed in their wake… though more pointed than either usually faced, just a few months as BZ Bitches had already left them immune to such behavior. Smiling, Kelly leaned forward to pointedly lick Sharon’s bare neck when a group of particularly obnoxious women were pointing and gossiping.

“Don’t sweat the bitch patrol,” she whispered, “They just wish they looked half as good.” Sharon smiled.

“And got half the cock we enjoy.” She blinked, shocked she’d just said that, even as she saw Kelly nodding. She smiled, unable to deny it wasn’t true. Of course, the store was closed when they arrived, a little clock indicating the proprietors would be ‘back in 15 minutes.’ Sharon followed Kelly to the food court where they eyed the impossibly nice photos of various dishes before settling on ‘kids size’ cones at the ColdStone. As they walked the mall, working on their cones, Sharon pointed out the places Dave had taken her before, hesitating at Hot Topic where they had stopped to speak to the high school student. She did not know why she did not say anything about it to Kelly, and denied that the sudden arousal she felt, searching the store to see if the young man was working… He was barely older than her son, she scolded herself, so she couldn’t be excited at the thought of seeing him. She slowed, trying not to look as if she was searching the small shop, and then moved on, guessing he was not working.

Kelly insisted on going into ‘Swim Things’ where she bought a new string bikini. She insisted Sharon should get a matching suit, which the housewife did, obediently buying the same size that Dave had purchased a few weeks before… a size smaller then she had ever truly worn. Sharon did not argue when Kelly insisted on getting a third suit for Cathy, laughing when her friend assured her she was ‘almost the same size’ as her ********. She tried to understand why hearing that had caused a momentary unease, but Kelly’s exuberance and the pending visit to the salon kept her from dwelling on it. The clerk was happy to provide the younger woman with a card so they could purchase directly from her any online items they might find, and as they left Kelly insisted the could get some good pieces for their act. Sharon nodded, biting her lip at the mix of emotions… she remained uneasy about the suit she had just bought for her ********, but could not understand it, and the burble of arousal at how Shaun would react when he saw the new suit threatened to build into real arousal, so the hooked white wife intentionally put the thoughts out of mind.



The overweight black woman was not in evidence on their return, but the diminutive Asian beckoned them into the store’s treatment area as if they had been expected. She raised an eyebrow, asking in clipped hard to decipher English if Kelly needed ‘touch up’ too, reminding Sharon where she had heard the term. She shivered, remembering her initial horror at what the women had done to her, then nearly giggled at how natural it seemed to her now. Kelly had asked if she needed to wait out front. The woman considered, then nodded, offering a gap tooth smile,

“Be good for business, have pretty girl waiting,” she said. Dimpling, Kelly left. The woman pointed for Sharon to sit down, then rolled her eyes, sighing when the housewife obeyed. “First the skirt come off… and panties if you have them today.” Sharon blushed, but removed the lace low rise panties that matched her bra, setting them atop the skirt on a table that seemed reserved for that purpose. The woman clucked her tongue, “You go too long… may take more retreat… you have to pay for them.” Sharon nodded, struggling to appear nonchalant as the woman went to work.

“Oh, that’s all right,” she answered, watching absently but intently as the woman applied a cool gel in practiced strokes. Sharon realized that there was a tingle that followed the initial cold. The Asian did not reply, picking up a second container and applying a dusting of something dark that seemed to coat her sparse pubic hairs. She wrinkled her nose, seeing how it emphasized her pores. The idea her skin has so many pits was disgusting to the once prude wife.

The older woman brusquely handed Sharon a pair of oversized red plastic glasses. Sharon shook her head, puzzled as the tiny woman clipped similarly colored lenses over her John Lennon style glasses. The little Asian sighed.

“You wear,” she insisted, waving the wand she had picked up at the same time, “Strong light. Hurt eyes.” Sharon put the glasses on.

“I didn’t wear them last time,” she pouted. The older woman snorted.

“You wear blinder, last time,” her voice sing songed, “You want again?” Sharon started to shake her head no, but realized the woman was teasing her. She put the glasses on, wondering how many other women had worn them. The machine beside the other woman buzzed quietly when she pushed a green button, and after a moment a light went on by her fingers where she held the wand.

Sharon watched in mixed curiosity and anxiety as the pointed tip of the wand was brought deftly to her pubes. The woman seemed to deliberate among she few hairs Sharon could see even without the magnifier the technician was using. Nodding to herself, the Asian advanced the probe until it was almost on Sharon’s skin. She touched the stud beside the green light.

SNAP. Sharon gasped, struggling not to jump at the spark of light and the accompanying pain. She remembered there had been stinging before, but this was worse, she was sure.

“Ahhh,” she managed, knuckles going white on the arms of the chair. “That hurts.” The wizened crone looked up at her with a barely concealed smirk.

“You wait. No move. Numb soon.” She looked down and went on with her work, selecting the next hair to blitz. Sharon had to struggle not to cry out at the next use of the wand. The technician gave no notice, quickly eliminating several more before Sharon started to rise.

“God, I can’t… that’s enough…” Sharon started, amazed there was no blood or smoking burn on her skin. The smaller woman pushed against Sharon’s belly with the wand, the pointed tip applying enough pressure she easily forced Sharon back into the chair.

“Sit back. No watch!” she barked, “Numb soon. How you take big black, no take little poke?” Sharon blushed, and leaned back, closing her eyes as the woman paused to apply more gel and carbon. Mercifully, the pain did ease, until the time the woman patted her thigh after more than 20 minutes, Sharon had nearly fallen asleep.

Sitting up, she followed the Asian’s lead in removing the glasses. The shop owner flipped the lighting on fully, and Sharon looked down to examine the work. The scattered hairs that had been growing despite her frequent use of a disposable razor were gone. Her pale skin was speckled pink and black. Sharon’s momentary horror-- she pictured burned stubs of the hairs jutting from her skin even though it had not looked like that before-- dissipated as the woman deftly swabbed her pubes with a cool wipe, collecting the majority of the carbon powder. The thin layer of Aloe gel that the towel applied quickly soothed the light burn on Sharon’s skin. The entrapped housewife shivered, amazed at how much cooler it felt with even the little stubble she had built up having been whisked away.

The beautician clucked, pointing to Sharon’s clothes, and the blonde blushed as she remembered she was standing half naked in front of a stranger.

“Hair fine. Work good. No more retouch.” She set about cleaning the apparatus with an economy of movement, unerringly tossing the sterile wrapping and used gauze and wipes into a trash can set by the wall. Sharon watched, unsure what she was supposed to do.

“Uhm,” she began after a moment, reaching for her handbag, “I don’t know how much…”

“Included,” the woman barked, “No charge This time.” Sharon nodded her understanding.

“Thank you,” she said automatically, “How long now before it grows back, then…” The woman stopped, blinking at Sharon until the blonde wondered if something was wrong with the older woman.

“Not grow,” the woman shook her head and muttered something in another language. It was Sharon’s turn to blink.

“Not for a few months, just like it’s been…” The woman’s head rocked like the bobble head dolls her son collected.

“No,” the woman said when she decided Sharon was not kidding. “You no understand epilation?” Sharon knew friends who did hair removal, but they were forever going back, and as a blonde she had never had reason to consider trying it. She managed to shrug. “You not serious! You here… You have Brazilian V.” Sharon nodded, putting a hand against her sex, absently tracing the line of hair that had remained always more prominent than the sparse hairs that had regrown in the months since she had been to the mall. “That all… It always a Brazilian V. No grow no more.” And the little woman rolled her eyes again, contemptuously. Sharon found her mouth hanging open. And while she tried to get past the shock of it, she was mentally scolding herself… they had said as much. She would never have more pubic hair… or at least no more pubic hair than already decorated her mons. She bit her lip, but managed to thank the woman before rushing back to the front room where Kelly was paging through the week’s ‘In Touch.’

Seeing Sharon, the younger woman hopped up and reached for their packages.

“Do I get a peek?” Sharon smiled, but caught the smaller woman’s elbow nearly dragging Kelly out to the main walkway.

“I didn’t realize,” she said as she headed back toward the car.

“Wait, I’m lost,” Kelly argued, “What didn’t you realize?” Sharon looked around as if the other shoppers knew what they were talking about.

“I didn’t know it was permanent.”

“Laser epilation? Sure… at least as permanent as anything is…” Kelly seemed honestly puzzled. “That’s why it’s so great… no constant shaving and trimming and itching.” Sharon just nodded, once again amazed at how different her friend and lover’s outlook could be. “I mean, some hairs just seem to be stubborn, you know?” Kelly prattled on, “That’s why they retreat the areas you want to be clean. I’d never thought of doing it before we became BZ Sisters, but it makes sense… Feels pretty sexy too.” Sharon felt herself nod at that… It DID feel sexy when she could feel clothes or air or someone’s fingers moving over her bare skin… so close to being inside of her…

She shook her head, scolding herself for daydreaming about sex. They were home on Thanksgiving break, and just two days before she had been thoroughly abused. She told herself to focus on the time she had with her ******. The memory of that reminded her she had not applied the salve that she had been given.

“I need to find the restroom,” she blurted, looking around.

“Back at the Food Court,” Kelly suggested, following the line of sight Sharon had been following, “Why, see someone you want to screw?” Sharon just shook her head. She decided not to say anything about the salve.

“No, I just have to pee.” She giggled-- before school she would have been scandalized to say something like that even to her girl friends. Kelly smiled and the pair retraced their steps to the starkly lit tiled hall leading to the mall’s public rest rooms, leaving a wake of following eyes.

While Kelly primped in the mirror, Sharon ducked into the stall, scooping a finger of the viscous slightly yellow material out of the bag and applying it to the top of her just-treated seam. As sore as she had been she was amazed at how quickly the greasy ointment had helped. She mentally gauged the amount still in the bag, estimating how long she could make it last… through Christmas if she was careful, but she had the man’s number. She decided not to worry about it, she could get more on a trip home if it ran low before then.

She ran her fingers over the slightly tender, reddened skin of her pubes… Permanent. She was relieved Chris seemed to like the look, and wondered if he thought she was shaving daily to maintain it… and if he thought that, wouldn’t he wonder why she was doing that when she did not see him except the odd weekend? She shivered at the thought of his finding out. She quickly finished up, tucking the bag deep in her purse, along with her panties, since they had chafed at the recently treated skin. She flushed and went out to wash her hands.

“Wait, I want to see,” Kelly pouted. Sharon frowned, but could not help herself, as the younger woman maintained her feigned pout. Biting her lip, the married wife ran a hand down the front of her blouse, catching the hem of her skirt and lifting it to bare her sex for her young lover.

“Mmmmm,” Kelly shivered in exaggerated pleasure, “Is that just for me?” Sharon shook her head, fingers dipping lower, palm pinning her skirt in place as she spread her labia,

“Oh, no, baby… I’m a BZ Sister… I have to share this with any Brother who asks.” Kelly stepped up to her, eyes dancing with playful arousal.

“I guess I can share you with them.” Sharon suppressed a moan as the younger woman closed her fingernails with practiced accuracy on her pierced nipple.

“Ahhh… and my husband,” she managed, “You have to share my husband…” Kelly had moved close, meaning to kiss Sharon’s neck. She began to giggle.

“You want me to share your husband?” Sharon blinked, then flushed deeper than her quickly building arousal.

“I… no, I meant… I…” Kelly’s fingers tracing over her blouse were driving her wild. She wanted to pull her young lover’s face down, to bury it in her sex… She stopped, remembering she had just applied the ointment, and still surprised at what she had said.

“Well, I suppose that’d be one way to make sure he can’t be too mad about what we’re doing…” Kelly was teasing, pressing her body against Sharon’s. Sharon’s mind locked, need crowding out rational thought about Chris or the ointment or where they were.

“… And then I told that lying dog he could…” The door from the hall opened and two young black women sauntered in, talking to each other. There was an awkward moment as the women came to a stop, still holding the door open, to see the white women almost writhing against each other in front of the sinks. Kelly bit back a laugh, stepping away, as Sharon hurried to smooth her skirt back into place, relieved they had not gone farther, and more grateful that she was facing away from the door and the strangers’ gaze. Kelly tossed her hair and sauntered past the women, barely younger than herself. Blushing fiercely, Sharon followed, hearing the one who’d been speaking as they enter say to the other, “Can you believe those skanks were…” before the door closed.

Kelly seemed unworried as they moved back onto the main walk of the mall. Sharon was sure every eye was on her. She knew no one else had seen what they were doing, but somehow it felt as if everyone knew. The fact that the knowledge had her as aroused as what Kelly had been doing to her was lost to her awareness. Kelly steered them through a couple shops, pointing things out that Sharon bought while trying to regain some balance and self-control. Finally they were back to the entrance where they’d come in. Kelly paused, looking around, and smiling at the unwavering attention they were getting.

“I don’t think they’ll forget us, do you?” Sharon looked around, amazed at seeing every eye focused on she and her friend. She looked at Kelly.

“I hope so,” she hissed, “If someone saw me with Chris and said something I’d die.” Kelly laughed.

“I doubt you go the same places our admirers do when you’re with Chris. Hell, we drove most of an hour to get here.” Sharon could not argue with that. “So do you want to leave a real impression?” her friend asked, licking her lips suggestively. Sharon looked around again.

“What are you saying?” Kelly shrugged,

“You’ve got me all hot and bothered, bringing me here… They may not be BZ, but I bet we could talk a couple of these young studs to take us somewhere…” She laughed at Sharon’s expression. “Just kidding, lover. I was thinking more about…” without finishing, she stepped close. Sharon fully expected her young lover to kiss her or fondle her. She wasn’t prepared for it when instead the smaller woman caught her hand and pulled, twirling her in place.

Sharon was nearly completely through her spin before she realized the movement had lifted her skirt, baring her naked sex to all those watching them. She gasped, her sex twitching spastically.

“See us live at Snake Eyes!” Kelly sang out, then pushed Sharon through the first door of the mall’s weather trap.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Sharon gasped, laughing as Kelly caught hold of her hand, the couple dashing out to Sharon’s car. She was panting when she closed the door a minute later. Eyeing the fierce pride in Kelly’s expression, she leaned across, kissing the younger woman passionately.

“So you liked it,” Kelly teased when they finally separated, both still breathless. Embarrassed, Sharon turned her attention to getting the car started. “I could tell,” Kelly traced a finger over Sharon’s aroused unpierced nipple, “You get off, showing yourself off.”

“Not as much as I do getting our BZ Brothers off,” Sharon wondered why she had said that. “It’s Thanksgiving break, though. I have to focus on Chris.”

“So we’re just here to tease ourselves?” Kelly pouted, but Sharon wondered if she was really upset. She did not want to admit that she had been thinking the same thing while they were shopping… it would be SO easy to find some stud to help her get off. An image of Donnie, the way he’d smiled as he was taking her in the tattoo studio filled her head. Only the honk of the car in the next lane brought Sharon out of her fantasy; she barely missed sideswiping a big Lincoln Town Car. “Uhm, if you want to get their attention, just flash a tit, babe,” Kelly said.

Conversation returned to more normal topics as they headed home. Sharon had to get the last groceries for Flora’s feast on Thursday… she was meeting friends the next day for lunch, though the thought of it kept leaving her unusually anxious. She asked if Kelly wanted to join them, but the younger woman scoffed, pointing out that Sharon was hip and sexy and her ‘Sister,’ but the other ‘biddies’ would not understand.

“No, I think I’ll hang with Cathy tomorrow,” Sharon’s lover said. Sharon did not argue, still trying to understand why she was worried about the next day’s luncheon. “Are we going back to school on Friday then?” Sharon shook her head,

“No, I mean, you can, if you need to, but Scott has a football game on Friday… some new play off arrangement,” she turned up her nose, “I worry he’ll get hurt, but I want to be there since I’ve missed all the other games this year.”

“OK, football it is,” Kelly winked when Sharon looked over at her, “But be careful not to make any bets on the game.” Sharon blushed, but laughed with her friend. It seemed like ancient history, even though it had only been a couple days before. She was glad that she had the ointment, certain she would still be walking bowlegged if the BZ Brother had not taken pity on her.

“I think I’ll save myself for our Brothers and my husband thank you, very much,” She shivered at the thought of her son’s friends treating her like she had experienced during the weekend. They were just boys, not at all like the men she was servicing in college…

Once again she made a conscious effort to shove all thoughts of the ZB frat out of her mind. She was home. She was with Chris and the rest of her ******.



“Nooo!” Sharon sat up, back arched, eyes wide. She managed to stifle the cry that had awakened her. She blinked, disoriented, looking around the room. It wasn’t her apartment bedroom, with the green LED clock, or the low lights of the cubbies where the girls stole naps at Snake Eyes. She recognized the Bose clock radio on Chris’ nightstand. She was home. Had it all been a dream?

Her fingers rose to her chest… No, her nipple was pierced-- she was truly going to school, and as surely was a frat’s helpless sex toy. She looked down at her sleeping husband, who had been roused slightly by her cry, she noticed. To her relief he shifted, then settled, his breathing falling back to the steady droning snore that was so familiar. She remembered the evening.

She and Kelly… and Catherine when she got back from shopping with her friends, had all laid out by the pool under the heat lamps pretending it was summer until Chris and Scott were back as well. Flora had provided snacks and drinks, and had fixed a delicious stroganoff for dinner. There’d been peach cobbler and ice cream, and then the kids had insisted they watch a rental movie that was ‘hilarious.’

Sharon had already had three glasses of wine, so had found following the movie… something about eating with idiots… hard to follow. The others had seemed to enjoy it. Then Chris had said something about ‘taking his girl’ to bed, which had prompted outcries of ‘Gross’ and ‘Ewww’ from the kids, and a smirk from Kelly. Sharon remembered giggling drunkenly, encouraging her husband to ignore their kids and make good on his promise.

She fell back onto the plush pillow, her hand dropping between her legs, teasing at the thin vee of hair above her sex. Chris had smiled when she had done an intentionally halting striptease, asking if that was what they taught in PE at college.

Shaking her head, Sharon had murmured that she had missed Chris, adding that Kelly and the other girls kept talking about what they did for their boyfriends, and adding that since Chris had been so patient and generous that she ‘wanted to try it.’ Pushing him back on the bed, she had proceeded to straddle his hips, running her nails up his thighs and soft belly, circling his nipples teasingly as she asked if he liked it, then giggling that she could tell. Within moments of her advance, her husband was fully hard, his cock tenting the front of his briefs… Well, at least pushing it out-- the contrast with the true jutting hardness she was too familiar with sprang unbidden to her mind.

Pushing the intrusive memories aside, Sharon continued to tickle, moving ever closer, until she had caught the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down to ****** Chris’ manhood.

“Oh!” she breathed, “You are amazing. God I’ve missed you. I play with myself some nights imagining you’re there.” Chris was breathing rapidly, his hands moving over her head.

“Me too, babe,” he managed, then gasped as she kissed the tip of his cock. Sharon kissed up and down his length, going slowly, pausing to pull hair out of her mouth, tilting her head as if she was unsure what to do. “Oh God!” he groaned when she took the tip in her mouth and swirled her tongue over it for a moment.

“Is that good?” she asked, feigning naiveté, wiping her mouth. Chris just nodded, hands tight in her hair. She smiled at him; she could tell he wanted to pull her down onto him the way Shaun did, but her husband was too much of a gentleman. “It isn’t bad,” she admitted, “I guess it was stupid,” she dipped her head, licking seductively up the bottom of his shaft, “That I refused to do it when we were in school.”

“Ah!” Chris cock twitched at the teasing movement of her tongue, “It’s… It’s OK, babe. You’ve always satisfied me.” Sharon smiled up at him.

“I’m glad… You’ve always been wonderful, too.” Before he could ask if she had not always been satisfied, she took a dramatic breath and then let half of his shaft enter her mouth before pausing, bucking her head as if it was difficult to manage. She told herself there was no harm in playing it up, stroking her husband’s ego. She loved him and wanted him to be happy. Pausing for another breath, she began to bob up and down on Chris’ cock, adding suction irregularly, and slathering her tongue around him clumsily. She paused, biting her lower lip as she looked up, “Should I stop, then?” Chris groaned, shaking his head, pushing his hips up, anxious for her to take him in her mouth again. “Is it better when I lick,” she did so with greater skill than she really wanted to display, “Or suck…” and haltingly took half of him in her mouth again, applying a moment’s suction before stopping to cough theatrically.

“Suck it,” Chris hissed. She hid her smile-- as if there was another choice-- as she began to bob her head, sucking with better force. Chris’ hands were balled in her hair.

“God, you’re so hard,” she murmured, reaching to wank him as she panted like she needed breath, “I’m not sure I can take it all… but I’ll try… Kelly calls it… throating. She insists every guy goes wild, but I already feel like I’ll throw up.” Chris nodded, eyes nearly crossed as her fingers knowingly worked at his erection. He sighed as Sharon returned her attention to his shaft, taking him three fourths of the way, then holding herself against him and clenching her abdomen as if she was retching before easily dropping until her nose was against his pubic hair. She sucked hungrily, then faked a retching noise before backing off.

“I did it!” she paused, “Did you like that?” Chris just nodded. She giggled, “I’ve left you speechless. It wasn’t bad… I think I can do it again if you’d like…” Chris managed another nod. “Tell me if you’re going to… you know,” Sharon wrinkled her nose, “I can’t imagine tasting that…” And worried he might see the lie she dipped her head to swallow him again, sucking hard. He grunted, and she tasted pre-cum. Was he already so close? She bobbed her head up and down… up and down, sucking and relaxing at the same time. His breath caught, and suddenly his hand were clumsily pulling at her lifting away.

Sharon deftly maintained suction to cause a loud ‘pop’ as she came off of her husband’s cock. It twitched, and a heavy bead jumped up, spattering Sharon’s neck.

“Ewww!” she pretended to be horrified, pushing the tip away toward his belly as more jism spewed from the purpled crown. “Wow!” she said, honestly impressed when he was spent. Her hand and his lower abdomen were liberally coated with his spend. It wasn’t the most that she’d seen, but she didn’t remember Chris being such a fountain.

“How ‘bout that?” he managed, patting her head awkwardly. “Guess I’ve still got it.”

“Mm-hmmm,” Sharon cooed, pausing in her movement up to lay beside him, “Wait… I have to know…” she dipped a long lacquered nail into the pearly jism and brought it to her lips. She wrinkled her nose, “A little salty.. But not bad… I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. I’m sorry baby, I should have tried that years ago.” Chris shook his head, waving a hand as he pulled her up close to him.

“Shhh… Are you kidding? If that’s all that I wanted I wouldn’t have been so lucky as to have you for my wife. Think of all the things I would’ve missed… kids, the house, our friends…” He had looked at her sleepily, the boyish smile she had fallen in love with animating his heavier, older face, “Although I’m not going to complain that you’ve decided to add it to our repertoire.” He paused, and closed his eyes long enough that Sharon had thought he might have fallen asleep. “I’m sorry, babe, but I think you’ve worn me out for tonight… I’ll make sure I make it up to you tomorrow.” Sharon had made a show of jumping up to clean him up, wrinkling her nose as she used Kleenex to wipe up the worst of it. She had assured him it was fine, knowing that in Chris’ mind women rarely wanted sex… Not so long ago she had been that quiet ‘good housewife’ that he expected.

Sharon had paused, wondering momentarily how she had been so changed. The thought was quickly supplanted by the relief that she had managed to fake him out.

“You know, if I’d known you would learn to try that I would’ve sent you to college years ago,” Chris had teased her. Sharon had giggled.

“Two of my fellow Sisters claim that’s why they got their tongues pierced… to really pleasure their boyfriends.”

“Hmmm,” Chris had murmured, “I’d always wondered what that was about…” A moment later, he had been snoring. Sharon had snuggled against her husband until she was sure he would not wake before she had slipped into the bathroom to enjoy a long shower, masturbating feverishly while fantasizing about being filled by Shaun’s big cock. When the memory of Dave taking her in the same bed where she had just tricked her husband arose, she knew she should be ashamed, but for some reason it proved just the trigger she needed to get off, sagging down the tile wall of the shower stall as the pleasure peaked and ebbed.

She had dried off and then had slipped back into bed, drifting quickly to sleep. Sometime later the dream had come.

She had been taking Go’s deliciously bent cock from behind, bent over his desk, a delicious dream from which she had actually climaxed a few times when waking while still dreaming. Instead of the usual color, though, she was dreaming in black and white. Before she could puzzle about it, the door of the office opened and Kelly sauntered in-- moving with the sexy hip throw reserved for when they were performing.

“Ready for the set?” dream-Kelly asked. Sharon tried to tell her to wait, but dream-Go’s hand pressed at the small of her back, pinning her to the desk as he hammered into her harder, and she managed only a groan of submission as he brought her to the brink of an orgasm.

“She’s busy, little bitch.” He growled at her, not at all the gregarious flirty employer who kept everyone aware he wanted them and would make sure they enjoyed his having them.

“Fine,” dream-Kelly had pouted, “I’ll just do the new show I’ve been working on…” And she had left, the door staying open behind her. In the dream, Sharon found herself wondering why the door was still open, at least until the relentless thrusting of dream-Go’s cock brought her off. She had shivered and wailed, humping back against him, begging for him to fuck her.

In the quicksilver way of dreams, she was then on the other side of Go’s desk. The big club owner was still hammering into her deliciously. But he was fucking into her more leisurely, and Sharon became aware of the Deejay announcing Kelly’s new set. The perfect tempo of ‘Porn Star Dancer’ began to thump, and the crown went wild. Sharon found herself imagining how Kelly was progressing… working the poles, working the crowd, losing some costume… Repeat. The crowd went wild shortly after the second song, began, Van Halen’s ‘I’ll Wait.’ Had she stripped bare? Was she using one of the impressive dildos they had agreed would be a hallmark of their show? Go waited until the next time the crowd cheered before pushing the button on his desk… again the magic of dreams since the button was actually BEHIND the desk, she realized dimly…

The automated drapes lifted, and Sharon gasped as she saw Kelly was prancing suggestively about the stage, a peacock plume jutting behind her firm ass, held in place by a silver hoop that glittered at her hips, the ends at the front seeming to point directly at her glitter accented clean shaven seam. She was not using the pole, though. Instead, she wore a Technicolor version of the nurse’s hat, and was prancing around a dentist’s chair of some sort. At first, Sharon thought the man in the chair was simply some lucky regular or a hapless groom to be. She watched in surprise as Kelly stopped at the man’s waist, and while pumping her plumed ass suggestively at the crowd, she deftly opened her ‘patient’s’ pants, freeing an average but obviously aroused prick.

Sharon found herself focusing on that cock. There was something… Slipping up onto the chair, somehow still moving her body to the music, dream-Kelly put on an imaginary ‘69’ except it was not imaginary… She really was bobbing her head up and down that erection, pausing every few moments to cry out as if receiving the best cunnilingus ever.

There was a pause as the song ended, and for a moment Sharon thought it was a malfunction. The crowd had gone quiet, watching the action, so that as her lover and fellow performer stopped slurping at the pale shaft, looking back at the man who’s face was enveloped by her thighs and sex.

“Oh, that’s so good, lover,” dream-Kelly crooned, eliciting hoots from the audience. “Which do you like better, this…” she dipped her head, swirling her talented pierced tongue over the shaft, “Or this,” she paused for effect, then drove her mouth to the root of the swollen cock, cheeks hollowing as she sucked at him. The frenzied but distinctly masculine, hauntingly familiar moan of response was answer enough. The music had kicked in then, ‘Teach Me to Doggie.’

“I need that cock inside of me!” Kelly exclaimed, spinning, and pumping her hips, which made the plumage fan the audience as she spread her thighs above Sharon’s husband. Sharon’s gaze rose to the cunt honey glazed face of her betrothed; his eyes were glazed and there was an almost vacant smile of bliss. She pounded Go’s desk, shouting ‘No!’ as her gaze moved to her lover’s obviously wet sex, dancing over her husband’s jutting cock. She could not take her eyes away as Kelly hunched lower, dragging her sex down over the tip of Chris’ cock before accepting him into her in a single smooth stroke. Chris’s head tipped back as his neck and back arched, hips pumping hungrily up at the young co-ed’s cunt. Holding herself above him, dream-Kelly was riding Sharon’s husband, still dancing from the waist up as the crowd went wild.

When the chorus began, The lithe young woman deftly lifted off of Chris and jumped to the floor, wiggling her hips invitingly. Her body still lunging at the steady thrust of dream-Go’s cock, Sharon shook her head ‘no’ and cried out the same, still pounding her fist on the heavy oak surface of Go’s desk. No one seemed to hear her. As she watched, Chris levered himself up as if he was 21 again, rushing to drop to his knees behind Kelly. Sharon whimpered as her husband eagerly fitted his dripping cock to the young woman’s sex and speared into her doggie style. Kelly threw back her head, keening while the feathers adorning her ass shivered and the crowd went wild.

Chris roared, holding himself inside of Sharon’s lover, obviously cumming during the beginning of the song’s final chorus. He fell away, sagging back onto the dental chair which magically pulled him back stage while dream-Kelly rolled to her back and began to play with their mingled spend leaking from her publicly fucked pussy. Sharon heard herself saying ‘No, no, no,’ and any thought of getting off on Go’s amazing cock or of getting her boss off was long gone. She looked frantically for the door to his office, only to find that there was no longer any door… What did that mean?

“Give it up for Kelly and her partner, Chris!” the deejay announced, “And tell your friends-- they’ll be here all week…”

That’s when Sharon woke, desperate to stop it, far too late to have succeeded. As she calmed, she wondered what it all meant. She wished she could ask Kelly, but was sure she would be too embarrassed to mention it. Unable to simply go back to sleep, Sharon went in and used the toilet, applied more of the ointment, and managed to resist the temptation to masturbate with the residual arousal that her nightmare had triggered. She scolded herself, for calling it a nightmare-- strangely, she found herself wondering if having Chris fuck her lover in a way that he thought he had been the seducer would protect her. Thinking of the way Kelly had gyrated and performed in her dream… and knowing the real sexual gymnastics her young ZB Sister could demonstrate, Sharon was a little scared Chris would simply choose to trade her in for a younger sexier model. She scolded herself for the uncharitable thought-- she knew Chris loved her. Having sex with Kelly would be almost like having sex with their ********. And that thought made her feel guilty once again, even though Sharon knew she really had had no choice. Shaking her head, She tried to relax and find sleep once again, her last conscious thought nearly disturbing enough to rouse her once again: at least it hadn’t been Cathy.



Sharon overslept on Tuesday morning, finding only a note that Cathy and Kelly were shopping, Chris had been called in to work, and Scott was at practice and then would be ‘hanging’ with friends. The wizened little housekeeper was home, but stayed out of site. Smiling grimly that running behind schedule had always been a problem, Sharon rushed to shower and get ready. She had scheduled a manicure and pedicure for before lunch with her friends. Glancing at the clock she cursed and stopped trying to dry her hair-- the short sides at least made it easier to do that without her hair looking hideous-- and rushing for the Range Rover.

At the nearby Korean owned shop, Sharon ignored the women’s chatter and let them work. She had opted for the new ‘longer lasting’ gel but applied to fresh inch long extensions and after a hesitation went with a darker maroon instead of the bright red she had been wearing since Dave had first brought her home. The ZB Brothers might like the candy apple color, but she was sure they would appreciate the more luxurious darker red and was less concerned about such little things triggering the horrible consequences with which she had lived since almost the start of her freshman year. She was learning which were the important rules and which had been rules of convenience, meant to demonstrate who was in control. She made an appointment for Kelly the next day, leaving a text for her fellow student about the color. She pre-paid the treatment, and after a moment added Catherine, too. She was not sure why, but for some reason that left her feeling decidedly uneasy.



Back home, Sharon contented herself that Flora had lunch under control, and went into the bedroom. The urge to get herself off was so ever present she had wondered if Chris or the kids would notice; even sitting in the chair while getting her manicure, Sharon had found herself focused on the knowledge that her clit was aching for attention. Just brushing her hand down the front of her dress, she could feel it was swollen. Teasing it slightly, she wondered if becoming a BZ Bitch had done that, or if she had always been a hopeless slut, but just had not known it.

She frowned at the clothes hanging in her closet; though expensive, everything was depressingly conservative. A momentary thought of the closet in her rental only amplified her need. She found herself checking the clock on the nightstand, then scolded herself, wondering if she had truly been contemplating trying to hurry all the way across the city to the mall and the tattoo shop.

“Stop acting like their slut and remember who you are, Sharon,” she scolded the woman in the closet’s full-length mirror, “This is real life, not the fun and games at school.” She chose a button front green dress that would work well with her nails, grabbing one of the lacy bra and panty sets she had purchased to replace the dowdy undergarments she once had favored. Careful to protect the new nails, Sharon showered, then carefully did her hair and make up, toning down what she had grown accustomed to wearing. She was surprised when the dress was loose, then smiled, telling herself it was the dancing that had helped her to keep from gaining any weight. The wide belt she chose accentuated her narrow waist, and with some of the buttons undone she decided the look ‘would do’ but resolved to do some shopping with Kelly and Catherine before she had to go back to school.

The thought of her young lover triggered another spasm of need that seemed to echo between Sharon’s legs. She blushed, at thinking so wantonly about Kelly in the same thought as her ********. Ignoring the need lingering at her sex, Sharon deftly picked up the bathroom and the few things she had gotten out in the bedroom, then went to the kitchen. Perhaps a Pop of champagne would settle her nerves.



Sharon settled for a kir royale, from the pitcher Flora had left in the refrigerator to chill. There was a pitcher each of bloody mary and of mimosa. Sharon enjoyed the effervescent cocktail while padding through the house, pausing at pictures and mementos on the walls and shelves, smiling at the memory of all the things her ****** had enjoyed. She abruptly broke off, though, unsure why the trip down memory lane was leaving her increasingly unsettled. A second wineglass of the alcoholic mixture silenced whatever ghosts were trying to darken the morning. Suitably lubricated, Sharon sought out the housekeeper, thanking her effusively for the lunch preparations and for taking such great care of the ****** while she was away at school.

Flora eyed the usually straitlaced woman with a mix of suspicion and pride. Mrs. Sharon had always been more than stand-offish, as if their different stations precluded real interaction. Eyes bright, her employer was obviously enjoying the alcohol, but was not *****-- she had found Chris more than inebriated several times since Sharon had gone to school, and had reasoned escaping that boorish behavior would make any woman more relaxed and outgoing. She ducked her head in thanks, though, not ready yet to speak to the tall blonde as if they were friends or equals. Sharon laughed and turned toward the front door when the bell rang, the movement leaving it obvious to the housekeeper most of the buttons on the dress were open. While she was wearing a bra, the casual exposure of her cleavage would have been unthinkable before she had gone off to school. Shrugging to herself again at how much people she thought she knew could change, Flora hurried to make certain the brunch was ready. This was a much nicer employer to have than the imagined witch, shrieking that the food was horrid and had ruined the day; Mrs. Sharon had never behaved like that before, but given the obvious changes everyone else seemed ******* of, she was not going to risk a thing.

The women arrived over the next forty minutes. Linda and Madolen were first, laughing and cheering and hugging Sharon before starting on how great she looked, asking after whatever she was doing to have lost even more weight, and to have been so daring with her hair and nails. Sharon was delighted by the women’s response, having wondered if they would somehow take one look at her and somehow ‘know.’ Before they had calmed down or had finished their first drinks, the bell rang. Sharon stayed with her friends, enjoying the story on the latest goings on their street, as Madolen’s home was just four doors down.

“Royce-- he’s the neighbor on the other side, you know-- came home last month to find a man standing in his kitchen eating a roast beef sandwich.” Linda nodded solemnly,

“A black man,” she added as if it was an important detail.

“Royce was left to wonder if his wife was cheating on him or if this was the new handyman, but fortunately Evelyn was out with us shopping at the time.” Linda nodded seriously, eyes wide at the memory.

“He had slipped in through the sliding door at the pool,” she continued the story, “And would certainly have been looting their place if he had not decided to stop to make himself lunch, first.” Sharon found herself wondering if the intruder might stop at their home to offer her some relief; her clit was maddeningly hard and her friend’s words ‘a black man’ had made it twitch enough she had imagined the other women must see. She pressed a hand against her crotch, glad to be sitting down.

“Oh, don’t worry, honey,” Madolen leaned over to pat Sharon’s hand, right over her aroused crotch, “He ran off. When he ran, Royce was sure he was up to no good. He tried to chase him down, but… Anyway, they have stepped up the security patrols and warned everyone to lock all of their doors. It reminded me of the day there was a truck parked out front and several young men were going in and out. You had not mentioned it, but you’ve been gone, and they were obviously going in to work, not taking things out, so I was relieved Chris must have just had some work done. Did he have an in house sound system installed?” Sharon just blinked, surprised at what she was hearing. Chris had not said anything.

“Sharon, it’s been ages!” The girls jumped up as Jennifer Gowen swept into the room. She rushed up to Sharon, hugging her and offering each cheek a theatrical air kiss before pushing her away, still holding her arms, as she looked he up and down. “Goodness, you simply must come home more often, dear,” she said, the others easily discerning the disdain in the prissy socialite’s characteristic backhanded compliments, “You’re simply skin and bones… The dress is about to fall off of you, good heavens, dear.” Her eyes moved over Sharon’s dyed hair, nose wrinkling whether at the style or color Sharon could not guess. She clucked, seeing the high piercing, “Oh dear, I thought sending our girl off to school you would show the poor urchins what real class and style are, not fall victim to their hideous rituals.

“Jen, you’re just jealous you can’t go back and relive your college days,” Rhonda interrupted the older woman’s continuing evisceration of the hostess as she came into the room. She pulled Sharon away from their sometimes friend and hugged her, eyeing her seriously, “And I’ve thought about getting a high piercing like that… We have to do what we can to stay young, right girls?” She leaned close adding in an intentionally non whisper, “So did you get your belly button pierced, too?” Linda and Madolen laughed at Sharon’s response, but Rhonda was unfazed, “Well show us, girl!” Blushing, Sharon unbuttoned sufficiently to show off her belly, where the frat’s bauble shown in the room. The women clapped and cheered, Rhonda short circuiting another prissy tirade by shaking her head, “Damn, but you still have the body to pull that off,” she sighed, “I wish I looked that good. You must have guys falling out of their seats trying to watch you.” She winked at Sharon, then collected her drink from Flora as the women retuned the conversation to getting Sharon up to speed with what was happening in their world.

Apparently there had been a lot of things Sharon had missed, although she found herself musing as she listened and nodded that none of it had been important or very exciting. In fact, the only thing all of the other women agreed about was that the school board’s decision to have ‘rivalry games’ on the Friday after Thanksgiving as a break between the division games and the play offs had everyone talking.

“Who are we playing?” Sharon was mildly embarrassed that she did not know, considering Scott was not just a bench warmer. She assumed it would be one of the parochial schools, or maybe Shawnee Mission North-- they always seemed to find a way to beat the Vikings.

“When the mayors and school board agreed to do out of conference game I thought it would be Rockhurst,” Linda, whose son, Gavin, was a receiver, answered, “But they apparently decided we have a rivalry with Raytown.”

“Harold says we’re three touchdown underdogs,” Jennifer sniffed. She and her husband, the aforementioned Harold, had no children, although both seemed to honestly believe the brace of miniature schnauzers were equivalent to the other families’ kids.

“I can’t believe it!” Linda shook her head, “We haven’t lost yet. They’re saying we could still win state.”

“Well, they play in a different state,” Rhonda pointed out, “And they have more reason to play well.” Linda gasped.

“Are you implying they’re better because they’re black?” Sharon blinked at Linda’s statement, watching her friends’ conversation with a mix of horror and amusement. Rhonda rolled her eyes.

“Not directly,” she countered tiredly, “I’m just saying some of those boys only have a shot at college if they play well enough to get a scholarship.” Linda looked like she wanted to argue but swallowed instead. “And I’m not saying we can’t win,” Rhonda added quickly to change the subject.

“Right,” Sharon chimed in, acutely aware that sometimes the team that’s supposed to win doesn’t.

“Too bad their quarterback isn’t on our team,” Madolen lamented, “With your boys catching what he throws we’d be a shoe in for state.” Sharon just nodded; she followed her kids and her friends’ kids, but had never been ‘into’ sports.

“He will be on Sharon’s team next year,” Rhonda said, missing entirely the momentary shock that crossed her friend’s face.

“Uhm, what?” Sharon stammered, certain her friend was about to start in about BZ sex parties.

“It was in the news last week: He’s going to State to play football next year.” Linda nodded.

“Along with the team’s best linebacker. It’s a bit of a coup,” she added, “They thought he’d be going to Texas or one of the SEC schools.” Relieved it was just about football recruits, Sharon did not think more about it as the women began to ask her about what she had been up to.

“Hello, everybody… I’m so sorry I’m late!” The others just laughed when the busty young redhead came around the corner.

“Dorothy!” Sharon exclaimed, “You made it!”

“Better late, I suppose,” Jennifer rolled her eyes, but Sharon’s friend, the quintessential redhead, was bubbly and perky enough that the words bounced off of her. Smiling, she hugged Sharon, then arched a carefully plucked brow, eyeing the changes. “Oh, my God,” she laughed, “My ******** has been begging me to let her change her hair like that… and get that piercing… Would you believe she wants her tongue pierced, too?! Who does that?”

“Mine’s said the same thing,” Linda admitted. The women got done hugging and greeting the last of their little clique when Flora rang the bell, indicating lunch was served.

The meal was delightful. Flora served an airy broccoli and chicken quiche after pasta and fruit salads. Crème puffs were dessert, and of course there was always a pitcher or two at the table. The women talked and laughed. Sharon was delighted that to a woman her friends wished they were her. There had always been some jealousy where Jennifer was concerned-- Harold insisted they did not have the income for a housekeeper. The older woman was absolutely green with envy at Sharon’s being in college. Her snips and snipes about dress and hair and weight were obvious to all of the others.

For the most part Sharon told the truth. She found herself gushing about the Sisters, and how much fun it was helping the athletes. Linda’s obvious prejudice was something the ‘pre college Sharon’ had never noticed. She and Jennifer both sniffed haughtily at Sharon’s description of how hard the guys had to work once their eligibility was up and all of the perks went away. Like Rhonda had pointed out, most of the guys in the BZ frat would be working nowhere jobs if it was not for sports. Sharon insisted that once the school was done with them too many student athletes fell by the wayside and never made anything of their lives, so it was up to the frat to push and push and make sure the student athletes who were not pro bound still had a degree and a way to make a good living. She was proud of herself for remembering what she had heard the frat members telling potential recruits that had come through while she was in the house.

Dorothy was the most pointedly interested in what university life was like socially. She asked if guys hit on her, and Sharon insisted that the BZ Brothers watched out for her. Dorothy asked if she had been ‘tempted’ with so much ‘young stud’ testosterone around. Sharon blushed but managed a laugh as she assured them the ‘real hotties’ like Kelly and the other younger Sisters drew the attention and ‘had all of that sort of fun.’ Linda sniffed-- another clear sign she was horrified at the idea of Kelly and a black player ‘doing it.’ For a moment Sharon imagined telling the women how amazing sex with any of the members of the Frat was, reeling almost visibly at having had that thought as she savagely stifled the impulse. She was also terribly aware she was slightly aroused, she assumed at the topic, and waved a hand as she guessed she must be blushing, insisting that she ‘never thought about the Frat members like that’ and was embarrassed that the women were suggesting otherwise. The other women laughed, teasing Sharon for being so naïve, and Sharon felt a wave of relief. Only Rhonda seemed to be watching her more closely-- almost skeptically-- as she answered and afterwards.

Rhonda asked if Chris missed her, and how he liked the ‘new Sharon.’ Without thinking, Sharon answered that he had been delighted when she had taken Kelly’s advice to ‘try oral sex.’ Dorothy giggled at that, Rhonda laughed. Madelon seemed intrigued, while Jennifer and Linda expressed disgust. Sharon’s body took that moment to remind her she was in need of some relief, and Sharon found herself defending herself, pointedly asking if Jennifer and Linda were really such prudes, or whether the shock was just feigned. The women rolled their eyes.

“You sound just like my ********,” Linda rolled her eyes, then mimicked, “All the girls are doing it, mom, it’s no big deal.” Jennifer nodded, “I thought that’s why brides smile so broadly-- they don’t have to submit to that special horror again,” the other women laughed.

“Kelly and the girls act like it’s no big thing,” Sharon insisted, “They don’t even really think of it as being sex.” Without thinking she added, “Kelly told me if Chris likes it that much I should get my tongue pierced because he’d go wild.” She realized, too late, that she had just told two of her friends that their ********* were doing to same with their boyfriends. Dorothy and Linda managed to nod and smile, and Rhonda deftly turned the conversation elsewhere before Jennifer could explode.

“Had you heard why Professor Eller is delaying her next book?” Rhonda’s question made Sharon squirm. She had told the others how much fun she had had taking the Professor’s class and getting to talk to her, even ‘going out for a drink.’ Somehow she thought that admitting that the outspoken Feminist had been utterly compromised by her relation to the Frat would lead to other questions she would not want to “She has not been in class all the time,” Sharon started lamely, “And I haven’t made every class, either,” which made Jennifer smile cruelly.

“I told you she was out partying. Probably has a tattoo also,” and stared daringly at Sharon, who thought she managed to look innocent.

“Kelly and the others need a chaperone,” she argued, “And we’re doing some extra-curricular dance classes, so some mornings I’ve slept in.” The others seemed to buy that. Before Rhonda could push, though, she added, “I heard she is doing some new research… she has a new theory about pioneer women or something.” She nearly winced saying it, and choked on her mimosa when Rhonda said,

“Well, maybe you should stay for summer school and help her with research, so we get the next book sooner… I’m tired of rereading the others.

“The female double oh seven,” Jennifer rolled her eyes. She was not as enamored of the string of interlocking ‘romantic fiction’ works that had fed Sharon’s imagination and had prompted her to go back to college. The others in their group had religiously pored over each of the books, even putting together ‘book clubs’ to discuss the ‘most authentic and empowering author sine Jean M Auel,’ as the Star book critic had claimed in a review of the first novel more than a decade before. Sharon had tried to read one of the paperback copies that she had brought, hoping to have professor Ellis sign before school had started. She had found herself unable to get into it, though… for some reason, the, ‘sharp witted, resourceful beauty’ described on the back cover as a tag line suddenly seemed to Sharon a spoiled cocktease. She had put the title down within twenty five pages, certain no real man would tolerate the endless ‘later’ excuses the character offered her long suffering ‘confidant.’ It had seemed anything but romantic to the new, more worldly Sharon.

“You may like the next book,” Sharon argued good naturedly, unable to admit to the others she could no longer enjoy a shared favorite topic.

“So you DO know something!” Rhonda crowed, “Spill it… spill it!” For a moment Sharon considered answering, ‘She’s discovered the glories of black cock and is rewriting what happens to her protagonist.’ She blinked, wondering if she had said that. She shook her head.

“No,” she insisted, “She hasn’t asked me to help… I’d hoped she would,” ‘TWANG’ Sharon’s breath caught at the power of arousal that buzzed in her clit at the sudden image of her Professors panting and grunting taking three big BZ cocks at once. “I heard she’s talking to the athletes… you know, the guys in the Frat, had mentioned it…” Sharon shrugged, not trusting herself to say more.

“It’s a new angle?” Sharon shrugged.

“Maybe… or maybe it’s a new main character, I don’t know. I do plan to volunteer if she wants research help, so f she tells me I’ll be sure to email you all.”

“Professor Ellis?” Kelly leaned down to hug Sharon casually from behind the flustered, surprised housewife, “She’s great,” she paused a beat, “At least, I hear she’s great now.” The women clamored together, asking what the younger woman meant. Kelly shrugged, “I heard she used to be a real battleaxe, but it’s like she’s totally changed… I’m going to take one of her classes next semester, since word is she’s amazing… At least, that’s what Sharon says. One of the linemen who’s been struggling told me Sharon’s one of her star pupils, so I’d bet if Sharon asks she’d sit down with all of you next sometime to talk about her books or ‘the process’… whatever it is writer’s talk about, so long as there’s food and something to drink.”

Sharon spun in her seat but Kelly just shrugged; her eyes were wide and she looked pointedly from Sharon’s shocked glare down to the text screen on her iPhone. Sharon somehow immediately knew the truth… Kelly was passing on an invitation that had originated not from her friend, but Shaun and Dave. She shivered, wondering if Professor Ellis was as totally in their control as that suggested, and accepting that it was probably true, further proof that she had never had a chance. Looking at her friends, she wondered if the Frat brothers could really mean to turn all of the women into ‘Sisters.’ It was impossible… Linda’s prejudice was obvious, and they were married… She bit her lip at how stupid that thought made her feel, and was embarrassed and horrified that for some reason the thought of her friends writhing and moaning and begging for more black cock made her clit pulse again.

Stammering an ‘I’ll be sure to ask her…” Sharon recovered to explain, “This is Kelly, girls… Kelly, these are my friends… I’ll… I’ll let you all get acquainted, sorry but I’ll be back,’ Sharon broke off the awkward introduction and rushed to the bathroom off of the kitchen. Yanking her dress up, desperately glad she had not bothered with panties, Sharon settled on the elevated toilet seat, examining her sex as closely as she could manage… Nothing looked strange. She groaned at the raw hunger that blossomed the instant she touched her still engorged clit. Teasing around the swollen, sensitive bead, she managed to get herself off in short order, enjoying the climax despite her confusion at why she was so horny. Staring accusingly at the disobedient, still swollen nubbin capping her bare seam, Sharon remembered the ointment, then. She used the backstairs, retrieving the baggie from its hiding place. She nearly tore the bag open trying to get the Zip-lok to release, then dipped her fingers in, sighing at the cool sensation and almost immediate relief when she applied the salve to her clit and hood standing in the master bathroom. Relieved, she tucked the bag away and hurried back downstairs to find Kelly and Catherine were still entertaining her friends.



“… don’t have yours pierced?” Jennifer was asking Kelly pointedly. Laughing, Sharon’s young lover winked at Catherine, then thrust her tongue out,

“Thorry,” she said before bringing it back in, “I haven’t found Mr…. or Mrs.” and she winked at Jennifer, “Right yet. But I did tell Sharon Chris would go wild if she did it for him for Christmas.”

“Ewww… TMI!” Catherine laughed. The women seemed at ease, so Sharon took a deep breath and tried to look relaxed as she joined them, hugging Catherine.

“Did you girls have fun?” she asked. Kelly leaned over and Sharon threw a motherly arm around the young woman, as well.

“We’ll show you what we got later,” Catherine said, “Kelly is teasing Jen and the rest of the gang, mom. But what were you talking about,” she said in a voice Sharon knew meant she was teasing, “Suddenly they want to know if we have our tongues pierced.” She adopted a playful pout, “See, Kelly, I told you having my mom in college would ruin all my fun.” Although she felt trapped, Sharon managed to smile and then the women were saying their good-byes. Kelly laughed at how skittish Jennifer was after the wink she had given her. She looked at Madolen and Linda and wondered why Dave had been so specific-- they were to be sure to come up to ‘visit’ Sharon in the next semester. Looking around the house she wondered if the BZ Boys did not see everything that happened… Surely they just drove by the house now and then, she reasoned; there was no way they could be listening to everything that happened in the Sobel’s house.

Sharon belatedly realized Kelly and Catherine were both working on drinks… alcoholic drinks. She chose not to say anything-- a little alcohol was hardly worth worrying about. She found she was relieved that her oldest child did not have a tongue piercing.

The ****** enjoyed pork chops, cole slaw, and poppy seed rolls courtesy of Flora. When Catherine poured herself a glass of wine, Sharon glanced at Chris, who merely shrugged.

“You’re not going anywhere tonight?” Her ******** frowned, then realized Sharon was eyeing the glass.

“C’mon, mom, I’m 18... I’m an adult. And of course I’m not going to be driving anywhere. I thought Kelly might like to go to the movies with my friends, since you’ve been monopolizing her, the new Sunset sequel started last week and she hasn’t seen it either, so…”

Sharon nodded, glancing at Kelly. It was ridiculous that she had hoped to steal some time to spend with the young woman. When Kelly just smiled, she nodded.

“I guess that means you don’t want me along.” Catherine rolled her eyes.

“Mom! It’s a girls night out.”

“But I’m a girl,” Sharon argued teasingly.

“No, you’re a woman,” Chris corrected, wagging his eyebrows. Sharon blushed.

“Ewww,” Scott pulled a face, “Get a room, guys.” He pushed back from the table, “Flora! Dinner was great,” he shouted toward the kitchen, then turned back to the others, “***… uh, and mom, the guys are going to watch game tape for Friday’s game, then we may go to a later showing of the new horror flick.” Chris nodded, and Sharon’s son was gone as she mused at how easily they were getting along without her. She felt distressingly out of place.

“Well, girls, so long as someone else is driving,” Chris eyed the young women in turn, “And so long as there isn’t more drinking once you’re out with your friends…” Both women nodded, Kelly following Sharon’s ********’s lead, “I think it’s fine… Curfew is…”

“Daddy!” Catherine seemed horrified that Kelly might hear she was being treated like a child.

“Chris!” Sharon chided, giving him a look she had polished on the stage at Snake Eyes, “Let them go, they’ll be all right.” Her husband beamed,

“Flora, as soon as you have things set, why don’t you head on to your ******… We’ll take care of the dishes,” his call to their housekeeper thrilled Sharon Sobel-- her husband was indeed anxious to spend an evening just the two of them. She was pleased at the arousal she felt course through her body at the prospect of sex with her husband. The evening’s various activities decided, everyone hurried to finish, then by silent agreement carried the used table settings in to the kitchen to aid Flora. Flora flashed them all a grateful smile, as she hurried about trying to finish the preparations for the next day’s meal. For more than 10 years she had put everything together, leaving it and specific if somewhat simplified instructions on the door of the SubZero fridge, so that she could visit her ****** to enjoy the holiday.

***

There was plenty to give thanks for by evening on Thanksgiving day, although little had gone as anyone would have expected.

Almost the moment the kids and Flora had quit the house, Chris had swept Sharon into a fierce embrace, kissing her with a passion she barely remembered. His hunger took her breath away; he seemed remarkably like the young men who so frequently enjoyed her at school, and Sharon found her body was quick to respond. He smiled when he had managed to lift the front of her skirt, dipping his fingers over her bare sex.

“Mmmm, what a naughty girl,” he teased, “No panties.” Sharon blushed, having forgotten to put any on before dinner.

“I hoped you’d be interested in playing some more,” she giggled, moaning only partly for show as he curled his fingers up inside of her. Her own hand scrabbled at the front of his trousers. She could feel his erection, and wondered if they might actually have sex right there in the ****** room. It had been years since they had enjoyed sex anyplace but in bed.

“Oh, believe me, I am,” he breathed, kissing her again, lips trailing down to her neck. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” Sharon gasped as he thrust in and out of her sex; she could not remember the last time he had done so. She moaned encouragement, fingers deftly working to open his pants, eager to feel his hardness in her hand. A moment later she was wanking his length with one hand in time with his fingers working in and out of her sex. She pressed herself against him, welcoming his passionate kisses.

“Shall we do it here?” she asked, pleased she had not asked him bluntly to ‘fuck her’ right there… Chris’ wife would never use that word. Chris chuckled, stepping back, but still working his fingers in and out of her sex, the edge of his index finger applying a delicious pressure to her swollen, hungry clit.

“Well,” he paused, and Sharon refocused from her own pleasure to what her husband was saying, “I sort of… I mean, after that performance, I thought…” Sharon blushed, but immediately understood. He wanted a blowjob. She dropped to her knees without a thought, nearly gobbling him fully into her mouth before catching herself. She wanked his length with her left hand while bracing against his left thigh with her right. Looking up at him, she bit her lip.

“I don’t know,” she teased, “It’s pretty big…” Her husband chest puffed out visibly, “I’m afraid I may gag.” She kept wanking at him, leaning close, touching the purpled crown with her tongue, then kissing it lightly, “I want to, but it’s scary.”

“You were great last time,” Chris urged, hips unconsciously pushing toward her face as he tried to convince her without forcing her to do it. Sharon smiled up at him,

“That was in bed… I was on top,” she paused, managing to blush at such ‘forward’ talk, “This way…” she shrugged, kissing the crown and swirling her tongue over the tip at the same time, “OK, I’ll try, but I may need to stop.” Chris was nodding as she bobbed her head down, taking half of his length before pausing for effect. She sucked lightly, tongue swirling around his shaft as she bobbed back and forth just a little. After several seconds she paused, resuming wanking him as she ‘caught her breath.’ She was secretly delighted Chris wanted this… wanted to be more adventurous in bed. She was already imagining she would be able to be less careful about how she acted… and what she said, if they just ‘tried a few things.’ Moaning just loudly enough for him to hear, she dove back down at him, taking more than before, almost all of him, then pausing, retching visibly albeit purely theatrically.

Chris’ hand came down on her head, but instead of demanding she take him, as Shaun and the others did, he pushed her away,

“You okay, babe?” he asked in concern. Sharon blushed more deeply at having deceived him. She nodded,

“It’s okay, honey… I want you to feel good… I’m going to try…” And then she pressed her face down against his groin, taking him fully. She ‘gagged’ again a time or two before she began to bob her head, sucking at her husband eagerly. Chris groaned, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, a familiar sensation to the well trained white wife. Still, he did not force himself against her; it was more to steady himself.

“Oh God,” he managed, “That does feel…” And then Chris was erupting, firing so quickly Sharon truly did gag once, before managing to swallow, keeping pace with his release. She backed off a little, remembering how much he had cum before, but he was spent much more quickly than the time before. When she rocked back, looking up over his paunch, he was panting, face mottled as if he had been running. Her eyes widened in alarm.

“Honey!” she gasped, surging to her feet, not caring that his jism was smeared over her tongue, “Are you all right?” Chris managed to nod, smiling at his wife with something like open adoration. It was a minute before he caught his breath.

“Oh man,” he said, tousling her hair, “You’re amazing… That was… I mean…”

“It was better that I swallowed,” she asked in feigned puzzlement, “wiping at her mouth and making a face, “It doesn’t taste good, but if you like that…” Chris shook his head.

“No… I mean, sure, at least it saves cleaning up a mess, but…” he shrugged, “That was just amazing… I’ve never felt anything like it… I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you, but.” Sharon giggled, then.

“I was pretty amazed, too… I thought I might drown.” She looked down at his flagging cock, trying not to sound as disappointed as she had started to feel, realizing her husband was done for the night. “I may have to save that for mornings before work, though, if I want to get any action, too.” She smiled at him as she said it, to take the sting out of the complaint. And she chose not to point out that Chris could return the favor… She knew he had not seen her ‘up close’ since their sex had always been in the bedroom with the lights low or out or under the covers… Mostly he would just climb on top of her, hump at her for a bit, cum, then flop to the side and to sleep. She did not need him wondering what was bringing the ‘new Sharon’ about. And the Sharon that her husband knew would ever consider asking him for oral sex. She smiled, amazed that once upon a time she had considered it ‘dirty.’

Chris had lagged behind in the bedroom, which was unusual, though Sharon did not really think about it, except to slip the baggy with her ointment into their bedroom so she could apply it in bed after it became obvious he was not heading to bed very quickly. She had turned off the overhead light, leaving only the reading lights on their nightstands illuminating the big room when Chris finally turned off the bathroom light and came back into the bedroom.

Sharon did a double take as she realized her husband was sauntering toward the bed stark naked. She laughed-- he never wandered around bareass-- but the laughter faded as she realized in honest amazement that he was hard… Very hard. Her clit twanged and without thinking she bit her lower lip,

“Mmmmm,” she said, affecting a more ‘come hither’ pose on the bed, “Is all of that for me?” Chris beamed.

“I want to make sure you enjoy yourself, too, babe.” Sharon nodded, delighted, and grabbed at his waist as he reached her side of the bed, eager to have him beside her. Hell, she was horny, and was glad seeing him like that had triggered her arousal. She wanted him inside of her.

Without bothering with foreplay-- that was not a usual Sobel practice-- he moved over her on the bed, gently pushing her knees apart. Sharon flexed her knees, expertly tilting her pelvis, welcoming his thrust, sighing as he found her sex and began to thrust inside. Chris set a steady tempo which Sharon matched, pleased when the friction and pressure proved adequate to push her toward orgasm. Her clit nearly sparked, she was so aroused. When he readjusted, sliding higher on her, the pressure of the root of his cock banging against the top of her seam quickly triggered a small climax.

Anxious not to precipitate an end to what was proving an amazing evening, Sharon managed to stay quiet through her orgasm; she had learned that most men are easily ‘tipped’ by the right combination of moans and cries and movements. Even so, she was panting and whining in pleasure as Chris continued to hammer himself into her. After several minutes she found herself checking the clock, wondering how he was managing it. Such curiosity was quickly subsumed by her next climax, which she did not try to muffle, thrashing and crying out beneath him.

Still Chris went on, panting and huffing above her without pause. If anything he was humping into her harder than before. She blinked, puzzled, and increasingly aware that the friction was becoming a little uncomfortable. Surely he was nearly done. She moaned and pushed her sex up to meet his thrusts, little tricks of the trade to finish up with customers at work more quickly, but while it obviously spurred her husband on, he was not cumming. She was almost dripping with sweat, most of it, she realized absently, was his. She nearly giggled, wondering if sweat would be adequate lubrication.

“Babe?” Sharon managed after several additional minutes, “I need… can you…”

“What, Hon’,” Chris slowed, pausing almost completely out of her sex.

“I need,” Sharon blushed, hoping this wouldn’t be too much, “Can we try a different position? I can’t believe how amazing you are tonight, but it’s starting to tire me out.” She wondered if she could slip into the bathroom to grab some lubricant. As her husband slipped free of her sex, the head rose, brushing over her clit. “Ahhh!” she gasped as the sparks she had been feeling flared into a bolt of lightning. “God, you’re amazing,” she pressed a hand against her sex, catching his erection with the other, stroking to make sure he did not go soft.

“Do you want to be on top?” Often before she had gone to school, Sharon had elected to take the upper position in order to get better pressure on her clit. Some nights Chris has suggested it, she knew because he could lay there and do nothing to get off. In fact, since she had gotten her nipple piercing, he had seemed to prefer that, as he could play with the jewelry while she was riding him. Sharon considered that for a moment.

“Well, I love that, but my legs are sore from shopping and swimming with the girls,” she paused, hoping he would make ‘the suggestion.’ Chris eased into her and she winced unnecessarily to reinforce that they needed to do something different. He quickly pulled out, anxious about hurting her.

“I guess that’s the perfect reason to do it doggie style,” he said, a hopeful look that made him look like a little boy lighting his face, “I mean, since we’re trying new things this week… I mean…” Sharon had to struggle not to betray how eager she was to agree.

“Honey,” she said, pushing away from him and up onto her elbows, “Are you serious? I mean, that is such a degrading position.” Chris shook his head.

“No, no! I mean, I just thought… Well, I thought we could try it, even if it isn’t… well, if it’s too risqué…” Sharon shook her head.

“God, no… I don’t want to waste that amazing thing… I can’t believe how long you’ve gone at it tonight,” and she could not, but was not dwelling on it at that moment, “OK, if you want, we’ll try that.” She chose not to mention anything about ‘the girls talking about it.’ That was a well she might go to once too often if every new thing was associated with Kelly or the other Sisters. She sat up, wrinkling her nose, “But you don’t want me to get down on the floor?” Chris shook his head, where he was on his knees between her splayed thighs. He seemed unable to look away from her. He answered in a rush, as if he was afraid she would change her mind.

“Oh no, we can just stay right here on the bed…” He shifted back, “Get on your hands and knees here in the middle of the bed.” Acting as if he was the one in charge. Sharon rolled to her stomach and gracefully came up to her hands and knees, crosswise on the bed, so that Chris was to her right. She did not tell him, but wanted to be in a position she could look to the mirror on the dresser at the foot of the bed and watch as they were having sex. Chris caught her waist as if he might turn her, then thought better of it, scrambling to move behind her. He shifted close, his swollen glans pushing between her cheeks and at her experienced bottom. Clenching to make sure she did not allow him entry where she was supposedly a ‘virgin,’ Sharon gave a dramatic gasp and leaned forward,

“No, babe! That’s too high.” Chris flushed, reaching down to catch the root of his bobbing erection, tilting the tip down as he moved toward her once again. She arched her back, noisily catching her breath as he found her seam and started to ease in. Her loving husband immediately paused. She nodded her head after a moment, “That’s it… Go ahead, babe… Go easy…” Chris was already most of the way into her sex by then. He caught her hips and began to ease in and out. Sharon focused on her body, pleased that she was still aroused… was enjoying what her husband was doing to her. Chris set a faster pace than he had been fucking into her before, and Sharon moaned, nodding her head, “Yeah, Chris… God this feels good… Go on… Faster… God, why didn’t you insist I try this before… You feel amazing!”

She groaned again, delighted that Chris was hammering into her like a crazy person… Like Shaun or Dave, if she had thought about it. Without the clitoral stimulation, though, she could not seem to get over the hump. She surreptitiously reached down, trying to frig her wanting clit, without Chris noticing. She glanced over, trying not to stare at the image of her husband, gripping her waist and slamming into her like she was a bitch in heat. The image triggered a brief rise toward climax, but she just could not seem to peak.

Giving up the pretense of not playing with herself, the thoroughly conditioned housewife dipped her fingers over her nearly clean shaven mons to press firmly at her swollen, aching clit.

“Ahhh!” her stomach jumped, then her back arched as she nearly climaxed. Another press set her off. She humped back at Chris urging him on, sure he would climax too.

“Are you…” Chris was panting heavily, and she saw in the mirror his face was a dark pink, “Is it… safe?” Sharon nearly answered that her IUD was in place. She blinked, then managed to nod.

“Oh yeah, baby… Go ahead… we might not be able to after tonight.” Chris had never been interested in sex while she was on her period. Most of the guys in the frat weren’t either, though Go had some clients who would pay extra for the pleasure. The thought was distracting. She covered it with a feigned groan and shiver. Chris grunted, pushing into her even harder than before, but he did not cum.

They had been rutting together for nearly another 10 minutes and Sharon was seriously considering simply collapsing, before Chris shouted, holding himself buried in her sex from behind as he climaxed. Sharon managed a passable spasm to suggest they had finished together, and then gratefully slipped off of him the moment he was spent. She did not know how long they had been screwing but was sure it had never lasted that long. She ached pleasantly, a dim echo of the way she felt mornings after taking various men at work or after a party at the frat, she considered, that thought sparking a shiver of arousal that had almost totally faded well before Chris had finished. She cupped her sex, rolling to her back.

“God baby, that was amazing,” she cooed, “But you wore me out… I’ll just have to shower in the morning and change the sheets.” She assumed Chris would flop onto his side beside her and fall asleep, but he almost jumped up from the bed, waddling toward the bathroom. Sharon watched him go, puzzled, then lay on her back, absently fingering her still semi-aroused sex beneath the cover that she had pulled up.

Considering how long they had been fucking, she reasoned the ointment had long ago been worn away. Reaching into the pocket of the robe she had hung from the headboard post by her pillow, she retrieved the little sack-- careful to be able to hide it if Chris came out-- and reapplied the soothing gel. Using her knees to keep the sheet from resting against her mons or sex, she smiled at how amazing the night had been-- they had never had sex like that. Now she could ‘reluctantly’ ask to do it doggie style anytime. She was still ashamed at what she was doing at school, but the ways it had obviously improved their own sex life helped ease those feelings.

She remembered the day, smiling as she decided what she was going to get for Chris… for all of ‘her men,’ for Christmas. And if her friends were scandalized, well, who cared. She fell asleep with a smile, certain for the first time in a long time she could juggle her roles as wife and mother and slut and whore.



“Babe!” Sharon blinked, looking blearily at Chris. Was it morning already? A glance at the curtains was proof that was not the case. Why was he still up? “Babe!” he shook her shoulder again, more anxiously. She groaned, sitting up.

“What time is it?” she mumbled, trying to see the alarm clock around his shoulder. 4 AM! “What’s going on?” Too late the ‘mom instinct was kicking in-- something was wrong. She blinked again, sitting fully up and grabbing at her robe. “The kids!”

“Shhh! They’re fine… They got home around midnight,” Chris said, “They’re asleep.”

“I was asleep,” Sharon said crossly. If he wanted sex again… “Why am I not asleep now?”

“I think I need some help…” Sharon did not immediately recognize what she heard in Chris’ voice… Fear? She stared at him, horrified. A heart attack? The way he had been sweating and panting… She knew she should have made him eat better… And exercise. She stood, catching his shoulders, looking him up and down. He was not sweating… Or breathing fast. Her eyes paused at the tent at the front of his sleep pants. She blinked at that… He was erect again? This really was about more sex?

“You’re kidding me,” she said in barely concealed contempt. A little voice in the back of her head nearly said, ‘That’s not enough cock to wake me up for,’ and she had to pause to make sure she had not said just that. “Chris, I’m tired… I’ve already let you do it doggie style… I put your thing in my mouth… Take a cold shower.”

“I have,” he said, sounding miserable, “Twice. I watched that horrid religion show, with the shriveled up nun? Nothing.” He looked away from her, “I, uh… I looked at the internet,” Sharon inhaled sharply, horrified he was about to tell her he had seen her being gangbanged by black guys and it had made him hard, “There are some sites I found on Scott’s computer, and some sites I’ve heard about from guys at work… Places with pictures or stories when a guy is horny and alone…” He seemed to decide she could not scold him because of that, “I haven’t surfed them very often, but it’s been a long semester,” he tried a fleeting smile, but she could tell watching him he was scared, “I… I’ve masturbated three times. I’ve tried ice in a bag. I tried Benadryl… I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“What… I mean, how? You didn’t… I mean, we didn’t break anything,” she winced. She had heard the guys talking about someone who had truly broken their dick… No bone involved, but something about tissue tearing and an enormous hematoma. She shook her head to deny the thought, resolved not to look inside Chris’ pants. He was shaking his head. He seemed more embarrassed.

“After… After the last time when you… When you gave me a blow job and I couldn’t get it up… I decided I wanted to be sure I could give you pleasure, too…”

“But Honey, you did! You do! Last night was wonderful… Knowing I can do that to you? It’s… It’s sort of intoxicating,” she smiled at him, “But I still don’t understand.” Chris shrugged sheepishly.

“Some of the guys at work have high blood pressure…”

“You have high blood pressure!” Sharon interrupted. “And you need to lose weight.” Chris waved away the argument.

“I’m not on a med that kills funtime.”

“What?”

“Diabetes, some blood pressure pills… lots of things mess with a man’s equipment.” Sharon shook her head.

“Sure, but not yours… You’ve always been able to… get it up.”

“But you’ve seen the ads… I wanted to be ready again AFTER I’d already cum once.” Sharon sat back, beginning to understand.

“You didn’t!”

“I did,” he admitted, “A Viagra Leonard gave to me.” The Sharon that had been was horrified at the thought that Chris had told someone at work he wanted to be able to have sex with her twice… or knowing men, that he wanted to be able to get it up a third or fourth time. The Sharon that was nearly became sidetracked wondering how long Shaun or Go could keep it up if they took one.

“That’s why you felt… different?” She chose not to say ‘bigger.’ Her husband nodded.

“And while we were doing it, it was great… I knew you were getting off, and instead of my cumming and being done… It was great, right?” Sharon nodded, not admitting it had been ‘okay.’ The last thing she wanted to do was damage her husband’s ego and have him need the damn pill. “Well afterwards… it didn’t go away.”

“Oh God, how long have you been hard?” He checked the bedside clock,

“Five or six hours,” he winced as he said it.

“But the ads say ‘longer than four hours!’ We have to get you to the emergency room!” Susan picked up the phone, but Chris shook his head.

“I’m not having an ambulance carry me and this,” he gestured down at his ‘little friend’ out where the neighbors can see. Let’s just take your Range Rover.” Sharon nodded, stepping into her slippers. She hesitated, wondering if there would be something inside he would see that would make him suspicious… She was sure not, and there really was not time to worry about it. Five hours! She grimaced, wondering how they treated the situation, and if there would be problems afterwards. Grabbing her purse, she dug for the keys as she followed Chris down to the kitchen and into the attached garage. They climbed into the Range Rover and were heading down the drive before she paused to consider she was wearing a robe and nothing else. She cinched the belt more tightly, wondering if she could drop Chris off and go home for clothes.

“Quite the adventure, isn’t it?” Sharon could tell her husband was embarrassed. She was touched he had been so determined to pleasure her. Once again she wondered if what she was doing at school had ruined her for her husband, and shivered at how he could have guessed she had not been enjoying sex with him since school had started. Was all of it her fault, or was he still just trying to be the big man and impress her, long after any chance of that happening sexually had been destroyed by her Brothers, the BZ?



The Emergency Department was clean and recently renovated, and the staff took Chris’ condition seriously, but it had still been several hours before they were done. Sharon had been relieved and amused to see other wives dressed similarly, though she was reasonably certain most had nightgowns or nighties on beneath their robes. She nervously pinned her hair up, hoping to look less like she had just rolled out of bed, not considering that none of the other patients or their families were focused outward.

Fortunately, they had not had to wait out front more than a few minutes, Chris’ obvious situation and the history he provided to the intake staff quickly getting them taken deeper into the ED, where they were left in a room in the triage area. Chris lay back on the gurney, hunched to mask the persistent erection, while Sharon paced nervously, studiously avoiding looking at her husband or her reflection.

When the doctor had arrived, explaining that he would have to inject medication into Chris’ penis, Sharon had stood up, stammering that she needed some air and rushing from the room. Chris had called after her that everything would be fine, and she had managed a jerky nod, terrified that even looking back would mean seeing such an awful thing as a needle piercing her husband’s genitals. The rooms in the emergency department were glass walled, with off white curtains pulled, hiding most of the rooms’ occupants. She hurried randomly along the wide, sterile white corridor, pushing through an automated door to find herself in a long, empty corridor.

The lighting was less harsh, almost dim by comparison, and she had paused, relieved to have escaped the horror of the treatment Chris was going to endure. She looked around, seeing no sign to point out a waiting room, and randomly chose to turn right, mostly because that led away from the entrance to the emergency department. She continued, making at least three blind turns, not considering where she was going, much less where she had been. The lighting was definitely down, whether to save money or to help patients sleep since it was dark she did not know.

Still seeing no waiting room, she reluctantly decided to return to the ER, only to realize she was lost. The corridors looked the same. When she did find a sign at an intersection, it had arrows and the word ‘ER’ pointing both to the left and right. She paused, abruptly aware that she needed to pee. She thought she had seen a sign for restrooms before and turned, trying to retrace her steps, and quickly becoming more totally lost. And the need to find a bathroom was becoming more insistent.

She sighed in relief upon turning another corner to find a pair of custodians mopping the wide linoleum floor. The men paused, obviously surprised at her appearance… and she guessed looking down, at her clothing, too. The younger man, a heavy set Hispanic cocked his head, while the taller older black man working with him rested his forearms on the top of his mop.

“Help you, mees,” the younger man asked, in a heavy Cuban accent. Sharon nodded.

“Bathroom?” The younger custodian nodded. He pointed beyond them in the direction she had been going, then pointed left, then pointed right. She nodded, pausing after two steps when the older custodian spoke,

“That first corridor there, that’s where you turn. Then it’ll be on the right side, probably halfway down the hall. You a patient here?” Sharon shook her head.

“Oh no, my husband is in the Emergency Department, I was just… I was just taking a walk.” The man nodded,

“Didn’t think they let patients wear earrings usually,” he shrugged, “Guess it must’ve been a real emergency, kept you in your robe.” Sharon managed a nod.

“It was, but they said he’ll be fine. Thank you again,” and she had continued, wondering why she was so unsettled at the encounter. She decided it had to be that she needed to pee so badly, and was relieved when she made the turn and saw the ‘Ladies’ symbol hanging from the ceiling beside a door midway down the corridor. She slipped gratefully inside, squinting at the brighter light inside when the fluorescent bulbs switched on automatically. She found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. It was tilted, so that from her position she could see all the way to her slippered feet. The tattoo at her ankle seemed especially obvious, her skin a faintly green tinge in the harsh lighting. She realized that the contour of her pierced nipple was not only visible, but that the metal was slightly obvious through the thin silk. It was no wonder the night cleaners and even the doctor had seemed unable to keep from staring when she had been talking to them.

Blushing, Sharon stopped looking at herself, carefully lifting the hem of her robe after lining the toilet seat with paper. She peed, wiped, then stood and flushed, checking that she had not gotten the robe wet. She had stepped to the sink and was washing her hands when the door opened.

“Sorry, it’s occupied, but I’m nearly done, so you can…” she had stopped, eyes going wide as she looked at the new arrival…



Sharon was still struggling to control her panting when she slipped back into Chris’ room in the ED. She clutched at the front of her robe self-consciously, relieved and simultaneously worried to find her husband was awake.

“I was about to send a search party out for you,” he smiled. Sharon tried to smile calmly. She shrugged.

“I needed to get out of here.” Chris nodded understandingly.

“Doc McAllistair said it was a good idea, so he didn’t wind up with two patients.” Sharon nodded absently. “Geez, you still seem spooked.”

“Spooked?” Sharon stopped beside the bed, then hit his shoulder with a small fist, “You scared the shit out of me! I was worried you could die.” Chris laughed, but patted her hand, which he had caught the second time she went to hit his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Shar,” he said, seriously, “I was scared too… I mean, if I lost the use of… you know,” he waggled his eyebrows and glanced down at his crotch, smiling as Sharon’s eyes followed, “I might as well be dead.”

“Don’t say that!” she yanked her hand free to pop his shoulder again, but Chris just chuckled. She bit her lip at a sudden thought, “But are you… I mean, will it be… Can we…” Chris laughed.

“Of course… Doc just said not to play with pills I don’t need anymore. And I’m supposed to visit a urologist next week. He said he hoped we’d had a good time, because he couldn’t recommend a repeat performance until after I see the him.” Sharon sighed and nodded, smiling at her husband. “I told him I thought I could think of some tricks to keep you satisfied until then…” Chris slipped a finger under the edge of Sharon’s robe, then, as if to pull it open. Sharon lurched back, clutching her robe tightly.

“Not here, Chris!” she hissed, “Someone would see.” Her husband just laughed, then grimaced, “Ouch, I can see why he didn’t want me messing around… that still hurts,” he cupped his groin, “And I won’t tell you what it felt like when he stuck the needle in me.” Sharon winced, nodding sympathetically.

She glanced in the small mirror over the sink at the side of the room, pushing her hair back over her shoulders; ran her fingers through a tress that was especially unruly a few times, then put her hand behind her hips, away from Chris. Her husband did not noticed, having turned his attention to the doctor who had just walked in. Sharon was sure the way the physician eyed her he knew why she was still so jumpy. She found herself looking repeatedly at the windows, scared someone was going to come by and see them.

“Say, doc, can we get out of here now,” Chris asked, reaching up to shake the younger man’s hand, “My wife looks like I felt, I need to get her home.” Sharon blushed, refusing to meet the physician’s gaze. Her eyes came to rest on the clock. It was 10AM!

“We’ll never have dinner ready in time,” she had said, tears threatening to overwhelm her fragile control. Chris patted her hand.

“The kids called at 8, worried when we weren’t around. I explained that I’d had an… an accident,” Chris clearly had not elaborated, “So Kelly and Catherine are taking care of the food. It’ll be fine.”

“He isn’t going to be admitted?” Sharon’s gaze skittered off of the physician standing on the other side of the bed.

“Nope,” Chris answered, stretching with exaggerated gestures, “Doc says it isn’t that uncommon a a problem… Nothing to worry about except a little needle in the dick and an office visit next week to be safe.” Chris looked at the doctor, “But seriously, Doc, when can I…” He waggled hid eyebrows.

“Don’t push it,” the physician reiterated, “But in a few days…”

“If I wake up and he’s ready to play, I can follow his lead,” Chris finished. Sharon blushed, and her relief was obvious, even though neither of the men could know why she was relieved. Or at least all of the reasons; it was wonderful that Chris was going to be fine. And he wouldn’t ever have to wonder about what had happened while the doc had been stabbing a needle into his cock.

“Honey, I am SO embarrassed being here in just my robe,” Sharon said then, after the hundredth glance at the window, “Can I go out and get the car and wait to bring it around?” Chris blinked, and Sharon guessed it was the first time he had realized she was bare beneath the robe. She almost laughed, sure that he was the only one.

“Uhm, that might be a good idea,” Chris nodded, “I’ll be ready pretty quickly, won’t I Doc?” The jaded ED physician shrugged, assuring them his staff would try to get them home for their Thanksgiving as quickly as they could. Sharon grabbed up their things, making sure she had the car key. The last thing she wanted to do was have to ask for security or the custodial staff to help her get into her car. She shivered, backing out of the room in case her robe had a wet spot, and then nearly ran to the car.

Safely in the Range Rover, Sharon glanced about, making sure no one was approaching or paying her any attention before she spread the bottom of the robe to look at her crotch. It always surprised her how quickly semen dried. She brushed at the whitish material smeared over her inner thighs, embarrassed as it flaked and collected on the back inside of the robe. Her embarrassment grew as her body responded to the memory of what had happened.

Twang! She moaned, sagging against the car door, pressing a hand against her bared sex, thumb tight against the swollen bead of her clit as the echoes of it’s spasm spread and ebbed in her body. Her free hand moved to the pocket of her robe. She managed to extract the zip-lock baggie and get it open with one hand, careful not to tear the plastic, then swapping fingers to apply the gel to the top of her thoroughly used seam. God, she wondered, what was wrong with her? Whatever it was, she was grateful that the ointment seemed to help. Eyes closed, she let her fingers continue to circle her clit as the memories flooded back….



“… I’m nearly done, so you can…” Sharon’s breath caught as the second janitor calmly entered the women’s bathroom, his eyes fixed on her robe.

“Thought sure you was some Hollywood tease,” the man leered, not really talking to her, but to himself, “Knew what I’d heard, but ya hear all sorts a things…” His eyes came up locking hers, holding her in place. “I know, see.”

“Y-you know what?” Sharon had stammered. The man has simply smiled more widely.

“I know what you need,” he continued, running a hand down to his groin that Sharon’s eyes had followed unwittingly, “Gots lots a that for you. And I know you can’t say ‘no’ ‘cuz I know your secret.” Sharon’s heart was suddenly hammering in her chest. How could he know?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she had said, horrified at the thought of having sex with a stranger while Chris was lying in a hospital bed not far away. The older man pursed his lips, clucked.

“Sure would be a shame, iffin’ I had to tell your sponsor you’ve refused a Brother a taste,” the man paused and licked his lips suggestively. He smiled more broadly at the woman’s obvious shock at the prospect of finding a BZ in the hospital. “Think I might get more than a taste, then, and maybe right in front o’ old hubby. How does that sound?” Sharon whimpered. “So there is a hubby? You ain’t just a slut pretending at being a wife?” Sharon managed to nod, and shrug at once… how to answer that question? “And he don’t know?” The man obviously liked her answer, “Damn… An I’m guessing you don’t want him to find out…” She shook her head. He unzipped, “Then I guess it really ain’t a question, is it… No wonder you such a slut, if you can’t let him find out,” the maddening leer grew, “But this isn’t what usually happens to me, Sharon… I tell you, this may be the best ever for me, no lie,” he had fished out a long thin jet black cock. And Sharon had shuddered in a powerful and immediate wave of arousal upon seeing it. She had tried to fight it,

“We can’t do it here… someone will come.”

“Oh, someone gonna cum, all right,” the older man had chuckled, “I think someone’s more likely, watchin’ you get all hot and bothered… I know I’m gonna cum. But I put the sign up outside,” he waved his mop handle at the door, “Ain’t nobody I don’t want gonna bother us.” Sharon had managed a nod, not really listening to his explanation after the mention of a sign, so relieved no one would barge in on them unexpectedly. “You couldn’t think sauntering around like that you wouldn’t get somebody calling you out.” Sharon had blushed, wanting to argue she wasn’t doing anything that should have encouraged his taking advantage of her. Instead, she had shrugged, holding perfectly still as the man had reached out to untie her robe.

“H-how did you know,” she had asked, expecting him to tell her he had recognized her from ‘her performances’ on video.

“The symbol on that earring, of course,” he had winked, nodding toward where her hair was pulled back, ******** her ears, “And you got the right ink, too,” he had added, glancing down at her ankle. She had bit her lip, understanding, “They mark you sure as a neon sign. Little Sugarpot, we look for that… ain’t every day we get to enjoy something so sweet.” had had answered honestly. And Sharon had shuddered… or trembled, by then, as her robe had fallen open, ******** her to this stranger. His eyes had been alight as they wandered over her form. He had whistled, “Damn, you ain’t just movie magic.” She had blinked, certain that he had seen her, then, too… had everyone seen her acting like some cock crazed slut? “Well, Little Sister,” he had smiled at her, “Better get to work.”

Without really thinking about it, Sharon had dropped to her knees, her hand rising to catch his heavy cock, bringing the uncircumcised tip to her mouth. She had thrust her tongue at the tip, trying to burrow under his foreskin, teasing around the head, kissing and nipping in a way that had long since become something akin to instinct, ignoring the strong and less than pleasant taste of what Tawny had laughingly called ‘dick cheese’ during a training break one day. Sharon’s hand had already begun to work the custodian’s shaft as she continued to teasingly lick at this tip before bobbing her head down, sucking more of his length into her skilled mouth. Fingers, tongue, and mouth worked at him firmly.

His hand had come to rest on her hair; not forcing, just supporting, she had realized with some relief. And he was responding, getting harder faster than she had expected, considering his age. Within another minute the broad mushroom tip was jutting through the taut foreskin, hungry for contact. By then, Sharon had been working his shaft, sucking and licking, taking more than half of him with each bob of her head. When she had pressed forward a moment later, taking his impressive tool fully into her throat, he’d groaned

“God, you’re amazing. I’m not… not gonna be able… gotta slow down, girl,” his hands had caught her hair then, pulling her away. Sharon had begun to lose herself to the rhythm, and whined, trying to take him back into her mouth when he had pulled his erection free. Blushing, she had tried to convince herself she was just trying to get it over with as quickly as possible, but that could not explain why she was fingering herself, too. The older man had been almost leaning on her, and for an absurd moment Sharon had imagined him keeling over, having a heart attack while she was blowing him. The thought had nearly made her giggle, even while she was horrified at a baseless certainty that she would be found out if that happened.

“Up, little filly… I wanna enjoy that sweet cunt.” She had hopped up obediently, wondering how he would want to use her. Unable to really recall those first nights when Shaun and Dave had been breaking her in, despoiling her thoroughly in the frat bathrooms, she had no understanding of what it was about her present situation that was so incredibly arousing. She had shivered as the stranger’s callused fingers pushed into her dripping box. “Damn, but aren’t you a hotty?” She had merely nodded, having slipped into the Sharon persona that could enjoy having sex with strangers; it happened anymore without conscious thought. She had thought he might take her there on the filthy checkerboard tile floor, and would have let it happen without protest.

“Bend over, slut. Brace yourself on the toilet.” Sharon had done so, groaning pointedly when the old man had eagerly moved up, pushing his jutting cock against her ******* and flowing cunt. She had spread her feet, pushing back to take him as he caught her hips. Then they had been moving together, long steady strokes… God he had an impressive cock. Sharon had wanted to frig herself, too, but the seat covering the stool was not bolted in place firmly, and she had struggled to hold onto the sides to keep from plunging an arm or more into the bowl.

“Oh yeah… oh yeah,” the guy was panting, the pace picking up, when she had remembered… “Wait!” she had managed to husk, rising up before the surprised custodian could pin her in place. Instead of slipping free, though, the move had impaled her fully as her momentum had pushed the bigger man back toward the sink.

“Unh,” he had grunted, watching as the white housewife struggled to disengage from his cock. Not caring that he was watching her, Sharon had grabbed her purse off of the floor, quickly unzipping the nearly hidden side pocket, which was a feature she had searched out among her various oversized handbags. Deftly she had extracted a condom.

“You need to wear this,” she had reminded the stranger who had just been thrusting into her bareback. The man had wrinkled his nose.

“You’re shittin’ me.” Sharon had felt a pang of alarm. Was he not really a BZ Brother? He was already reaching for the package, though, “Damn, I thought you might get so hot and bothered you’d forget. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Sharon had smiled-- it was not an uncommon tactic. She had watched as he tore the package open.

“I can put it on for you,” she had offered coyly. The older man had offered a crooked smile.

“Oh, no, I’ve seen… Hell, I’ve experienced how good that mouth of yours is, and I’m ready to really pound you now, little filly… Get back in position and we’ll start in where we left off.” Trembling in real anticipation, the sex-addicted housewife turned and caught hold of the seat again, shimmying her hips enticingly, and missing entirely as the grizzled custodian deftly stripped the sheath back off of his swollen cock. Aware he might try just that, she had started to rise, one hand bracing on the wobbly seat, which tilted two or three inches in response. Sharon’s breath caught as she franticly grabbed at the seat, trying to regain her balance. She had winced, the fingers of her left hand pinched under the shifting seat.

BAM, the janitor’s big cock had driven balls deep into her open, still hungry cunt. Sharon mewled in pleasure, arching her back, welcoming his invading shaft. In the moment when she had teetered on the edge of plunging headfirst into the toilet, she had seen that his right hand was empty. She could do nothing more to be sure except stop to check, and that thought never occurred to the aroused housewife, since her new partner had already found his rhythm, and the push of him deep inside of her triggered a climax.

Panting, she had gasped that she was cumming, no longer worried about anything else. Bang! The increased pressure she was putting on the seat made it shift abruptly the other way, and as the seat rests dropped off of the toilet bowl her right fingers were pinched sharply. Crying out, Sharon had snatched her hand free, lurching back against her lover’s thrust. Gingerly working her fingers, the impaled white wife braced her palm on the top of the toilet seat to regain her balance.

The custodian was really hammering into her, the friction and pressure of his big cock hitting the inner walls of her twitching pussy quickly getting her off a second time.

“God, yes!” she groaned, “Fuck me! You’re so good!” Mouth open, head back, Sharon had begun rutting back against his steady thrusting, when the bathroom door swung open. Too close to stop, Sharon was horrified as the first custodian stepped in, then paused, watching what was happening while holding the door partway open.

“Ju gave the sign, meng,” he complained. Sharon had been too close to a third orgasm to focus, much less speak, and she had a hard time understanding what smaller man was saying. She blushed, aware that he was talking to the stud getting her off so thoroughly.

“I was just… getting the little slut… off,” the tall black man panted, “It’ll be… your turn… in… a minute.” Sharon had shaken her head-- sharing her with non BZ was only for Shaun or Dave to decide… or Go. But the sparkle in the smaller custodian’s eyes made her hesitate; she had seen by the bulge in his pants that he really aroused, and there was an aura of danger that she sensed-- an intuition she had learned to listen to working at Snake Eyes. She worried he would… react badly if she tried to say no. And she knew she really could not do anything to stop him anymore than she had been able to prevent what was already happening. Leering, the swarthy Hispanic had stepped closer,

“Ees ok, meng… the puta can start weeth her mouth. Abre la boca, puta.” Sharon had known what he was saying without understanding the language… His opening his pants and extracting his ready cock had been ample translation. Without thinking about it, she had taken his thick cock, turning a little on the stool, to get a better angle. She had and relieved when the older custodian caught on, stepping closer to the wall and turning with her. She had been left astride the stool, one hand on the cold wet front edge of the bowl where the seat was cut away, something that once would have made her cringe in horror. The first custodian had kept his pace while his friend fed her his cock, neither trying to match the other, but that had been fine with Sharon. Sure that the big man plowing her cunt would soon be done, she had focused on getting the second janitor off with her mouth, not anxious to prolong the little episode when Chris might need her at any moment.

“Ahhhh!” She had almost smiled at how correct she had been as she felt the first guy stiffen. He was done… She redoubled her efforts on the Hispanic janitor’s cock, and then the older janitor had begun to blast his seed into her. Sharon had cried out around the Cuban’s cock-- she could feel it… knew he was cumming inside of her. She was horrified-- the condom must have torn. It was dangerous… he could be infecting her right then, she knew, but even so, the feeling of it made her cum again, and she had found herself pressing back at him, hungry to take his load.

Chuckling the older man had spanked her ass as he had pulled out a minute later. He took advantage of the pretty white housewife’s face mouth being filled with cock to tear the end of the condom with his thumbs when he pretended he was stripping the useless prophylactic off of his spent cock.

“Damn,” he said apologetically as his Cuban buddy smiled cruelly, “Sorry the condom tore like that… I guess you’re prepared in case that happens…” Sharon had nodded without releasing the second man’s cock, without really thinking about it. She had caught hold of the Cuban’s ass, desperate to get him off, but he chuckled, pushing her away.

“Oh no, puta… I geet to enjoy that, too… An’ we can ride bare, now… no steenkin’ condom,” he had laughed at his bad movie misquote, but had not waited for Sharon to answer, moving around to thrust into her sex. Sharon had shaken her head once, but as he had penetrated her she had simply groaned… he was shorter but fatter, and the greater friction felt delicious.

“God, yesss!” she husked, spasming with a bit of dramatic flair; true, it had felt wonderful, but she was also aware she needed to be wrapping things up. Chuckling, the Cuban had picked up the pace, really hammering into her from the first stroke.

“Chu like, eet, puta?” he had teased, and Sharon had responded, nodding, and managing a ‘yesss.’ “I show you a reel man,” the custodian had gripped her hips almost painfully as he brutally fucked into her. She had gasped in relief when he let go after a minute or two, only to cry out as he slapped her haunch sharply. He had reached around, then, his callused hands catching her breasts, thick fingers pinching her nipples, grimy nails digging in painfully. Sharon had whined and shimmied in a useless attempt to escape, the movement pushing her back against him. Realizing there was only one escape, she had begun to pump her hips, anxious to get him off so he would stop hurting her. She had been ashamed that her body was also responding to the pain, creeping toward yet another climax.

“… told y’all not to leave…” Sharon had gasped and tried to rise up, covering the Hispanic janitor’s hands with her own as the bathroom door banged open and a man in a black uniform barged in. He had paused as the white housewife began to plunge toward the toilet, uttering a shrill cry and desperately catching at the back of the seat and the front edge of the stool once again. Eyeing the scene, he had shaken his head . “Jonesy, this why you left your calling card out front?” The black custodian had laughed as the security man stripped off his utility belt, draping it carefully on the sink, using Sharon’s robe to keep it from getting wet before he had opened his pants.

“Hell, you don’t mind following our lead, I’m happy to share… And she’s a peach,” the janitor the guard had called ‘Jonesy’ had leered at the younger bigger blacker man, “Recognize her?” The guard had paused, looking down and tilting his head. He had scratched at his chin.

“Damn, she does look familiar… Kind of hard to picture her in clothes walking the halls, though… She the new speech pathologist?” The custodian snorted.

“That is one frigid bitch… Only way we’ll ever see her like this is a heavy supply of rope. Naw…” the black custodian had laughed, “I KNOW you seen this filly… Seen her just about like this, too.” The security guard had obviously been skeptical until a particularly vicious pinch from the Cuban caused Sharon to whimper, thrashing her head back in search of some relief from the cruelty.

“No way,” he had said quietly, moving around to look at her from the front, “Look up here, little slut,” he had ordered, and Sharon had found herself doing whatever the big man said, part of hating herself for it. “Are you shitting me?” And then he had yanked at his uniform pants. “You’re done, Jesus… Out of the saddle or I’ll sic ICE on your illegal ass.”

“Pendejo! Chivato!” Jesus was unhappy but he had reluctantly pulled out of Sharon’s dripping sex. “Chinga tu madre cabron!” The big cop had cuffed the Cuban custodian playfully, then caught Sharon’s hips, dragging her ass around so she was facing the pipes coming out of the wall to supply the toilet as he pulled her back onto his jutting cock.

“Let her suck you off, little man,” Sharon found her mouth was already wide-open as if for just that-- the guard was big and he was taking her roughly, like the Cuban had been doing. She had shivered, certain she would be so marked up Chris would notice… She had found herself praying that they had given him some heavy pain killers. Glowering at her as if she had been the cause of his ouster, the Hispanic janitor slapped his erection against Sharon’s cheek, and she dutifully turned her head, sucking him into her mouth again, while trying to spread her feet to take the brute thrusting into her sex more easily.

Unbalanced by trying to take the Cuban to one side while the guard was hammering into her from behind, Sharon’s hand had already hit in the bottom of the bowl before she had realized she was falling. The men had laughed, as she struggled to get back up, never letting go of the cock pumping into her mouth.

White light had flashed on the wall of the bathroom, creating an enormous shadow of the guard eclipsing the helpless nude white woman. Sharon had barely noticed, since her face was buried in the Hispanic custodian’s crotch, the brute having decided he wanted a prolonged deep throat. Sharon had pushed back the panic that threatened whenever she could not breathe because of oral sex, redoubling her effort to get him off so he would stop.



“Careful… Gonna go… Don’t think… Damn! Can you believe?” Sharon shook her head, but her mouth was full of something. She swallowed, but nothing changed. She groaned, then coughed, aware of a salty fluid that she struggled to swallow down… Her body was twitching and she heard garbled moans that sounded like her voice, the thought making her blush. Things were gray, then for a time there was nothing.

Sharon blinked, dimly remembered the bathroom in the hospital, taking on the three men while Chris was being treated for a Viagra reaction. She had tried to sit up, managing only a groan as her head lifted, but she was not sure she was strong enough to actually sit up. Looking around, she had realized she was still in the bathroom, but instead of being bent over the stool… She blinked, trying to focus and think. The world had been upside down. Wincing at the unyielding surface supporting her mid back, letting her head and shoulders sag almost painfully, she finally understood: she had been draped over the stool, face up.

Her body was rocking and she managed to look down her body to see the big guard was steadily fucking her… No, she had a sense of feeling him cum inside of her before, a delicious orgasm that had obliterated all thought. So what was he doing, she had wondered. She had struggled to lift herself higher, aware that there was an erection steadily pumping into her sex, and the guard was between her legs, as if he was responsible. She whimpered, horrified that hours might have passed and Chris would be looking for her.

The thought had propelled her up off of the seat, and she had nearly slipped onto the linoleum floor bare-assed, since the stool had provided support only to her back. The movement was halted, though, as she was ‘caught’ by the thick handle of the nightstick, which the guard had been using to fuck her. Uncomfortable pressure built as her weight pressed her sex against the ‘business end’ of the nightstick, but the guard chuckled, easily supporting her by her abused cunt.

She saw the bright flash again, looking around to find the janitor who had turned her out was snapping away with his cell phone. She was resigned to it now, telling herself Chris would never see such pictures. Blinking, though, she realized belatedly that it was her phone that was being used. She gasped, putting a hand up.

“Stop! Don’t do that!” If she didn’t get those erased Chris might see those. The janitor just laughed.

“Oh, you don’t want some souvenirs of tonight’s little party?” he had said, then shrugged.

“No problema, puta,” the Hispanic janitor had added, “Thees for texteeng to us.” His partner had just nodded.

“See, we don’t have our phones when we’re at work…. But we been mailing LOTS of amazing pictures to our phones.” Sharon moaned, embarrassed to be getting off suspended by the guard’s nightstick, but unable to stop it or her body’s reaction. There was a deep, familiar ache, the feeling she was used to after being thoroughly used at school. Almost pleasant, an echo of the pleasure she had experienced and offered.

Abruptly she had found herself sitting on the cold wet linoleum beside the stool. She was panting so hard she thought she might pass out. Had she cum that hard again? The guard checked his watch. She had realized then, that all three were dressed again. He had held up her driver’s license.

“Well, Mrs. Sharon Sobel, I’ll be sure to visit one of these days. Just don’t think I got enough of that tight little cunt, and the way you came, I don’t think you were done, either.” Sharon blushed, but shook her head.

“You have my cell number… you can call, but please don’t come to my house!” she pleaded, “My ****** can’t find out about this.” The men shrugged, clearly they did not care, but she decided they also were not interested in ruining her. At least, she had desperately wanted to believe that.

“Oh no, chica,” the Hispanic janitor leered, “I wan to have you een your own home. Een the bed you chair weeth your pendejo hoseband.” The other men laughed.

“The second coming of Jesus,” the first man… Jonesy, Sharon had remembered, teased, “Well, we’ve had enough fun for now…” He had finished fiddling with her phone, “Just let it finish sending and then you can delete to your heart’s content.” He had looked up at her, “But remember we have your contacts, too, so don’t try to interrupt the file transfer or I might get upset.” Sharon had managed to nod jerkily. She was covering her breasts with her raised knees, arms circling her thighs and calves, ankles crossed to cover her sex. And she had been awfully aware of their mingled jism leaking steadily out of her sex. “We’ll leave the ‘do not use’ sign out until you get put together and gone,” Jonesy told her, and then told her how to get back to the ER. Sharon had sat shaking, terrified at the new knowledge that the bathroom was almost in the emergency department. She tried to remember if she had been so loud someone might have heard.

They had left without a backward glance, and Sharon had found herself crouching naked beside the stool like a savage. Blinking in dawning realization that it was finally over, she had jumped up, clutching at the wall and sink as a momentary wave of dizziness threatened to put her back on her ass; part of her was desperate to escape before someone else came in. Struggling to get her breathing under control, she had thrown the robe on before glancing in the mirror. After drawing a shaky breath, she had responded automatically to the bedraggled, cum spattered visage in the mirror, methodically setting about cleaning up. She had grimaced at the rough paper towels the automatic dispenser provided in too short lengths. It had been a struggle to maintain her composure when she had seen the bruising already marring the skin of her breasts and at the front of her pelvis. She had been ashamed at the relief she felt knowing Chris would not be able to suggest they have sex for the rest of her Thanksgiving vacation.

As she had wiped at the ebbing flow of jism, trying as well to collect the smeared ooze already smearing her inner thighs, the memory of her climaxes increased her shame. She worked more gingerly at the the viscous strings of the three strange men’s cum coagulating on her labia and clit, trying not to think about how much better those climaxes had felt than anything else she had enjoyed during her vacation. Sex with Kelly was amazing and she loved her husband, but the raw pleasure of…

Sharon had shut down such inappropriate thinking, forcing herself to remember her husband was nearby, having suffered for trying to give her such pleasure. Sharon the slut was pushed into a dark psychic corner to await the next time she was needed.

TWANG, as if on cue her clit had pulsed. Sharon had doubled over at the sink, nearly striking the mirror as she pressed one hand firmly between her legs, while the other scrabbled over the slick porcelain surface, trying to maintain her balance. Pawing at her robe, she had been relieved to find the baggie still in place, and had smeared a dab over her sex before she had cinched the robe tight, checking her appearance in the mirror… no streamer of cum drying in her hair… no hickey marking her neck. She was relieved her make up had already been a ruin, and wondered not for the first time at how men could find her attractive when she knew she looked hideous. .

Exiting the bathroom, she had half expected to find her ‘admirers’ with new ‘guests’ standing outside. The corridor was empty except for the ‘do not enter’ janitorial sign set outside the bathroom door. Hoping she did not look as ‘just fucked’ as she felt, she had hurried farther along the hall, remembering Jonesy’s directions, and he had not been kidding-- the row of rooms with Chris’ was almost against the opposite side of the hall from where the men had been making Sharon scream and moan for most of an hour.

Lifting her chin, Sharon had ignored whatever looks those she passed gave her as she had hurried to her husband’s room, hoping he did not ask why she was breathing so hard or looked such a mess…



Sharon stopped the movie reel of her memory and glanced to the ED entrance, where a young candy striper had just appeared pushing Chris in a wheelchair. Putting the truck into gear, Sharon pulled out, her eyes moving past her husband to the security kiosk conveniently located by the automatic doors. To her relief it was empty. She focused on Chris, who was struggling to rise from the wheelchair, when someone stepped up to help him. He turned and Sharon saw him say ‘thank you’ as her eyes tracked up to see that it was the security guard. The guard was leering openly at Sharon as he guided Chris the few steps past the curb to the Range Rover.

“This your ride, sir?” Chris nodded, bracing a hand on the much taller guard’s muscled upper arm.

“It is, Pete,” Sharon’s husband nodded, “And I don’t mind telling you I’m ready to get home to enjoy Thanksgiving.” The guard nodded, looking into the car at Sharon as he spoke.

“Well, with someone like that waiting to take you home I can imagine so.” He winked at her, then swung the door closed, but did not move away. Maddeningly, Chris rolled the window down.

“Well, I certainly hope you get to go home to enjoy some of the day,” he told the big guard. The man shook his head,

“That’s not going to happen, but you’d be surprised what I have to give thanks for right here,” he patted the door, “But thank you for sharing.” And then he turned and sauntered back toward the kiosk, whistling happily. The tires squirrled briefly, Sharon was anxious to get away from the hospital.

“Careful, babe,” Chris laughed, “I want to get home, not wind up back in the ER.” Sharon nodded, trying to deny the sudden fear that somehow her husband already knew what she was doing at school and was somehow involved.

“How did you know him?” she asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

“Who, Dr. McAllistair? I just met him, though I think someone at work mentioned he had taken care of some minor medical issue last summer. He was good… Talked to me, explained things…”

“No. That man. The security guard.” Chris shrugged.

“Another new friend,” he shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat, “Let’s get the pain medication before we go home. I didn’t think I’d need it, but apparently whatever they were using is wearing off and I’m not sure I want to wait to see how bad it gets.” Sharon nodded, changing lanes to head to the Walgreens near their home.

“You called him by name.”

“What? Oh, Pete. That was on his name badge. He was so tall it’s what I was looking at when he helped me to the car. Something wrong, babe?” Sharon flushed. That was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“No. No, I was just ready to get home. I was glad he was there to help you get up into the car.”

“True enough. I doubt little Maggie could have managed without your getting out to help.” Sharon managed not to ask who Maggie was. Her husband, she had forgotten, was adept at getting people’s names. More than once he had surprised wait staff by speaking to them by name while the ****** was dining out. Sharon was more distracted by the thought of his statement-- if she had gotten out of the Rover he or someone else might have asked what had made the prominent wet spot at the back of her robe where the continued ooze of other men’s spend had collected.

Fortunately, there was a drive through window for the pharmacy. Except for narcotics they had to wait, and for a moment Sharon had thought they would have to go in to sign at the main counter. Fortunately the pharmacist had seen the cause for the ER prescription and wincing empathetically, he had passed the meds through the drawer while wishing Chris a ‘safer Thanksgiving,’ which her husband had happily agreed he hoped would be the case.



The homecoming was a minor event. Kelly and the kids circled Chris, asking if he was okay and what had happened, and whether he needed anything. He wanly assured everyone he was fine, deflected specific answers while promising there was nothing ‘really wrong’ and turning the conversation to the meal preparations.

As they got Chris into the house, Kelly had glanced back at Sharon, who had managed to climb gingerly down from the driver’s seat; she was more sore than she had expected, and wondered how long she had been out in the filthy bathroom while the trio were using her. Kelly arched a knowing brow and Sharon had managed a smile and a subtle shake of her head, before mouthing ‘later’ as promise to fill her young lover in about what had happened later.

Instead, she slipped up to the bathroom, and after carefully reselecting clothes so she would not parade through the bedroom to show off the proof of her being used, she luxuriated under the hot spray of the shower until Catherine shouted that dinner was ready.

The kids had done amazing work, Sharon had to admit. The food was perfect, and the table decoration-- tables cape, Catherine insisted, after some cooking show she enjoyed watching-- looked professionally done. Sharon barely ate, though, insisting when the kids asked that it did taste wonderful, but insisting she was just worried about Chris. And even Kelly seemed to accept that explanation. After struggling through half of a small piece of pumpkin pie, Sharon set about cleaning up. In short order the holiday meal was done, the leftovers set aside for dinner, and the dishes were in the washer. Catherine and Kelly were in Sharon’s ********’s room, and the men were watching whatever teams were playing football when they should have been home with their families, so Sharon slipped gratefully back to their bedroom.

Standing in the bathroom before the mirror she examined the reflection, critical for anything Chris might note and wonder about. She was relieved that the bruising was in areas he had pawed at in the last twenty four hours. She was surprised, though, at the fan of faint red dots marring the skin of her neck and chest. Leaning closer to the mirror before simply looking down at her body, she found a spray of acne had appeared. There were tiny zits on her shoulders, as well, more than she ever remembered having as a teenager. That suddenly she felt dirty. She shuddered, making a mental note to return to the clinic; there was no knowing what she might have been ******* to in that filthy bathroom.

She grabbed a cleanser from beneath the sink, swabbing the affected skin areas before slipping into lighter pajamas, as she wondered if it was some sort of heat rash from getting too warm while she was sleeping. Sharon climbed into bed and fished the blinder out of her drawer, sure it would not be necessary, as tired as she felt. Despite the total lack of light and her exhaustion, though, she found sleep was elusive. For most of two hours she tossed and turned, before finally dropping to fitful nap.

Sharon’s first image was of Chris leaning over her smiling as he shook her awake.

“… going, sleepyhead. We have a busy day, or don’t you want to see your baby play ball? You’ve missed every game this year.” Sharon groaned as she sat up. She was amazed at the light pouring through the windows. She looked at the clock. 11 AM!

“I slept all night?”

“Like a rock,” Chris paused, “Well, not a rock… you were tossing and turning and mumbling, but you were really out when I came up at 9PM.

“Well we know who’s fault that was, don’t we?” Sharon was surprised at how angry she sounded and caught hold of Chris’ arm as he reeled away from her, obviously as surprised. Where had that come from she wondered, “Sorry, baby… I know you were only trying to…” she managed a blush, looking down coquettishly, “Make sure I enjoyed myself. And I love you for it.” Chris smiled, mollified, and stepped back, waving at the bathroom and closet.

“Well, get moving, or we’ll be late. This kids already left so Catherine could introduce Kelly to her friends and save us seats.” Sharon was a little surprised the girls were going to sit with them, but the thought made her smile.

She hopped up and hurried into the bathroom as Chris left the bedroom. Glancing in the mirror, Sharon frowned-- the acne was worse. In touching the subtle bumps covering her skin, she realized that her nipples were sore as well-- that was easy to explain, she knew, considering what she’d done the day before. Although she had done almost nothing since her last shower, she chose to take another, scrubbing carefully over her neck, shoulders, and chest with the heavy sponge that she had bought years before to aid in exfoliation before getting spray tans. Pausing long enough to apply the ointment and her make up, she tied her wet hair back, then dressed, choosing University sweat pants and a hoodie adorned by the kids’ high school mascot over a BZ strappy tank. She was not sure how that had gotten into her drawer but did not really dwell on it, since Chris was calling that they needed to go. Pausing in the kitchen, she grabbed some leftover turkey and rolls rather than the usual granola bar, and then ran out to the garage.

She was a little surprised that Chris was behind the wheel of her Range Rover, but climbed in, kissed her husband good morning, and enjoyed the drive to the stadium. She had been terrified her time at school had ruined any chance of their being a normal ****** again, and everyday ‘normal’ activities proved she should not have worried. She smiled, confident there would be no repeat of the prior day’s impromptu BZ duties, dressed as she was. She left her coat in the Rover because it was unseasonably warm, and with her arm laced through Chris’ they spoke to other parents, friends, and acquaintances as they worked their way to the bleachers where the girls were waiting.

Sharon was a little surprised to find they were down near the front, instead of at the back where she and Chris had sat in seasons past. Catherine was on the drill team, but seniors had been given permission to sit with their families or friends during the first quarter. She nodded at other nearby moms, surprised that a few were obviously made up as if they were planning a night on the town. Sharon shook her head, checking her phone to be sure it was an afternoon game. She chatted with the girls and with Heather Gakle, whose ********, Myra was also on the drill team, and a friend of Catherine’s, a distinction Sharon remembered was important-- some of the girls and more of their mothers were complete bitches.

“I’m glad you didn’t treat this like a black tie dinner,” the bubbly brunette whispered once they had settled. Sharon frowned, and Heather laughed, “Oh, you didn’t know?” She eyed their matching hoodies, “Well, I’m glad anyway. I’d assumed Cathy told you all the families are going out for some ceremony before the game.” Sharon laughed, understanding at that point the dresses and make up she was seeing down the row of bleachers.

“Well, I didn’t know, but I’d still be dressed like this,” she answered Heather, “After all, it’s for our girls, not us.” Sharon answered questions about how she was liking school and about their holiday before the commotion began as school administrators waved for the families to come down onto the field. There was similar commotion on the far side as the visiting team’s seniors and their families assembled, too.

Sharon smiled as Scott jogged over to join the ******, helmet in hand. He hugged his parents and sister, then with his ****** moved toward the middle of the field. Sharon was focused on her kids and their friends as the announcer droned on about the importance of the new ‘historic’ ‘city wide’ games, and the spirit of friendship and diversity that were being nurtured. As part of that, the seniors for both teams were to be announced together. And then he began to spiel off the names, in alphabetical order, including band, flag, cheer, drill, and players.

Someone nearby laughed that hardly anyone was left in the stands, and Sharon nodded, then waved to Kelly, who had stayed in their seats on the bleachers. She was proud of her kids and was glad that Catherine was getting recognition for something she had worked hard to do and do well.

“Catherine Sobel, senior… co captain drill team,” the voice echoed after a long time reading two schools’ role. Catherine waved as Chris and Scott shouted and clapped along with Sharon. They waited as more names were called. Sharon moved over to hug her ********. The guys were talking sports or cars or women… maybe even football with the Kris Sparks and his father.

“I’m proud of you,” Sharon started, “And I know you’re going to enjoy college next year.”

“Just like you are,” Catherine agreed with a big smile, missing the momentary slip of her mother’s smile. “Who knows, maybe we can be roommates.”

“I, uh… are you coming up to state?” Sharon had not really thought about that. “I mean, aren’t freshmen supposed to use the dorms, well… I mean young freshmen,” she caught herself too late. Catherine laughed.

“Geez, mom, worried I’ll cramp your style?” Her ******** was amused by the suggestion, “I was kidding; having you right there watching everything would drive me nuts. But yeah, I may come to State, too… You and Kelly seem to be having a great time.” Sharon just nodded and kept her smile in place as she considered what might happen. She banished away the momentary image of Catherine arching her back, head thrown back crying out in pleasure as Dave thrust into her. She shivered… had she been standing behind them, smiling?!

“Mom? That guy’s calling for you…” Sharon blinked, then looked where Catherine was pointing, farther down the line. She saw a black football player smiling their way… leering, really. He looked familiar, but Sharon did not place him at first.

“Surely he’s talking to you,” she started to tell Catherine, when the young man cupped his hands to his mouth.

“Signed on the dotted line, yo,” or at least Sharon hoped it was ‘yo’ and not ‘ho,’ “You gonna be my BZ Sistah,” the boy’s smile grew, “Damn… gonna enjoy that. Bring yo’ baby girl along.”

“What’s he talking about?” Catherine had heard, but Sharon was relieved to see Chris and Scott were blessedly oblivious. She shook her head.

“Uhm, I think he’s saying he signed to play for State next year,” she began lamely.

“Well, duh, everybody knows he did… That’s Zeke Storm. Everybody says he’s gonna be a pro.” Sharon nodded absently, though she remembered where she had met the boy before. ‘Zeke’ had been the only thing on his nametag the day Dave had marched them into the store in the mall.

“Damn, your girl a hottie, too,” Zeke was shouting, aware that he had Sharon’s attention, “She gonna be a BZ girl, too? Can’t wait to get me some…” His gaze changed slightly, and Sharon looked over to see that Scott had seen him yelling their way, “That your little boy, little BZ Bitch? I’ll show you what I can do today… then you’ll see me later.”

“What an asshole!” Catherine huffed, catching her brother’s arm as Scott started to move toward the still leering linebacker. “Whoa, Scott… That’s just what he wants you to do. Don’t let him get to you. He obviously just saw mom’s sweat pants and wants to get a rise out of you… Get you off your game.” Scott reluctantly backed off, turning his back on Zeke, who hooted, taunting Sharon’s son for another moment before sending a pointed wink her way and turning to job back to their sideline-- the senior announcements were done.



Sharon found herself shaking as the game started. When Chris noticed, he put an arm around her, asking if she wanted him to run to get her coat from the car. She smiled, but declined, and was relieved when Kelly suggested they visit the ladies room. On the way, she told her young lover about the brief conversation with Catherine and the more concerning episode with Zeke.

“And how did he know you?” Kelly asked, “There’s no way he saw the earring that far away.” Sharon shrugged, then explained she had met him in the mall with Dave. “Oh, so that’s who you were looking for in that store.” Sharon blushed, but did not answer. How could she answer? “Don’t worry about Catherine,” Kelly continued, “She may not even go to State,” she shrugged, “And I thought you were having fun… I know I am.” Sharon found she had no answer to that, either… Explain she did not want her ******** banging all of the frat members and she would sound judgmental about what her lover was doing… what SHE was doing. It was a cruel Catch-22.

She had no better understanding of what she should do or say when they got back from the restroom. The game was just under way, and the kids’ school was already 10 points down. The women looked at each other. It could be a long game.

Mid-way through the first quarter, Scott ran a crossing pattern from his position at the right side. Almost directly in front of Kelly, Sharon, and Chris, the opposing school’s middle linebacker broke off a feint blitz, stepping back and left, to hammer his shoulder into Sharon’s son’s unprotected side as he went up for a pass. Her breath caught as Scott managed to not only catch the ball but hang on as his momentum was reversed. He hit the ground with tremendous force, but never let go off the ball. The coaches and fans were screaming for a pass interference or unnecessary roughness penalty… hell, both. The officials moved the chains and the clock kept winding.

Scott lay on the ground for several moments before getting wobbly to his feet to stagger toward the sideline. And as her eyes stopped tracking his progress toward the safety of the bench, Sharon realized who had just hit her son. It was Zeke, who was standing posed near where the play had ended. He was staring straight up at her. Sharon looked away in embarrassment, searching out Scott, who was being tended to by the team doctor. Part of her wanted to flip the arrogant little prick off-- her son had just caught the ball despite that hit, and their team had a first down in the other team’s territory. Instead, she asked Chris if he thought Scott was all right, resolved not to give the cocky prick any more satisfaction. Or attention.

It was impossible, really. And she hated to admit it, but Zeke was impressive reading the play before the offensive players, it seemed at times. He shed would be blockers and was involved in tackle after tackle after tackle.

“Was that hit on Scott harder than these others?” she asked Chris after watching Zeke upend a lineman before hooking one arm around the school’s leading running back and spinning him to the ground with a ‘thud’ audible to the bleachers.

“Babe, that’s a man playing among boys,” Chris said quietly, aware that there were too many parents convinced their sons had ‘it’ enough to go all the way playing football. “They have two of the nation’s top 100 players, so it’s no wonder they’re lighting us up. But hell, at least with Scott’s help we got a field goal. When the gun sounded the end of the first half, it was 24 to 3, and there was no sign things would improve in the second half.

The half time was longer than usual, allowing both schools’ bands and drill teams to perform. Sharon was glad her ******** got to start out-- she remembered hating the wait during games in high school, worrying whether she would make a mistake.

Catherine was clearly distracted, Sharon thought, though she hid it well. After their two brief numbers, there was a commotion… Sharon looked to the end zone nearest the locker rooms to see several of the other team’s players had come out to watch. As the band started to do it’s number, they hooted and clapped and waved as if they wanted the drill team to come join them.

‘Mother, they’re horrible,’ Catherine texted Sharon before the band had finished their pieces. Sharon answered with a simple ‘who.’

‘That player who was eyeing you before the game and the quarterback.’

‘I’m sure he was really eyeing you, dear,’ Sharon answered, hoping her oldest would accept that.

‘Whatever, they said they’d be happy to enjoy us next year at school. What assholes. Are all of the athletes like that? How do you stand it?’ Sharon shook her head,

‘When did they say that?’ Sharon thought they had been part of the group behaving like asses in the end zone, far from her ********.

‘As we were lining up. He came up and told me he’d be sure to choose me next year. As if!’

‘The athletes I know aren’t like that at all,’ Sharon sent before she stopped to think about it… Were Shaun and Dave really any different? Neither really cared about her, she was sure, except to make her imagine they did at first… until it had been too late. The thought made her hate the way she had felt around Shaun the weekend before… Had it only been a week ago? She could not believe she had been so stupid… was still dumb enough to imagine the boy really cared for her, the way he shared her with any other cock.

It was a shock to understand her position in Dave and Shaun’s eyes was just that: a BZ whore. And it was unsettling that she was not destroyed by it… could already be sure she could handle whatever further humiliations they had in store.

Sharon looked at Kelly, who was in animated discussion with Heather about the drill team performance and the team at State. She could not save herself or this young woman… would she be able to save her ********? Chris interrupted her thoughts, nodding at the phone.

“Is it important?” Sharon shook her head.

“No. That player on the other team that was taunting her before the game said something to her as they were lining up,” she left it at that and Chris just nodded as if that was totally understandable. Her phone buzzed again and she looked down, expecting another text from Catherine.

‘Walk to the concession stand by the north end zone.’ She blinked, then realized it was a message from Shaun. Puzzled, she nevertheless nearly jumped to her feet, hating herself for being to ready to obey.

TWANG. For the first time that day the too familiar pulse of almost debilitating pain / need bloomed in her groin. Sharon bit back a groan and bent at the waist, trying to ease the pressure without touching herself.

“Fuck!” she growled, getting Heather’s attention as well as Chris’. She blushed, “Sorry… I just got a cramp… I need to walk it off.” She started to move toward the aisle, waving Heather and Kelly back to their seats, “It’s okay, I’ll be back… Can I get anyone anything?” She was relieved when nobody needed anything. She hoped whatever Shaun had in store would not take long. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Kelly look at her phone. She wondered if her young lover was being given some instruction, too, but Kelly settled in her seat after glancing at the phone, and turned to continue her conversation with Heather.

Trying not to feel too jealous that she wasn’t part of whatever they were talking about, and wondering why she had responded with such anger over a page she had honestly expected earlier in the week, Sharon hurried through the crowd as soon as she was out of site of Chris and the others. She wondered along the way about the persistent episodes she was experiencing, as if her body was demanding more sex. Had she been so totally ruined… so conditioned that she needed it like that? Was that even possible?

She was not surprised when her phone buzzed seconds after she had reached the lines at the concession stand at the northwest corner of the end zone. The other school’s band was just starting to play. She glanced at the clock… still 12 minutes before the game resumed.

‘Go knock twice, then once on the door marked ‘employees only’ to the west of the concession stand.’ Sharon deleted the text, as well as Shaun’s prior text, as she followed the directions. She envisioned a custodian who was in the frat asking Shaun or Dave for a hook up. Were there so many BZ Bitches that they could confidently ask that? Sharon blushed at the realization there probably were… she was not special at all.

She hesitated, then knocked twice, paused, and a third time. Before she had pulled her hand back, the door had opened just enough for a muscled black wrist and hand to hook the hem of her sweat pants, yanking her into the dark corridor.

“Hey!” Sharon gasped, aware as she did that no one had seen more than her knocking. And aware that her phone was buzzing again. She looked down at the screen.

‘Do what you’re told. He’s a BZ now.’ Sharon felt herself go cold as she reread that before looking up at the person who loomed in front of her. He was taller than Zeke, she thought and relaxed slightly.

“W-what do you want?” she asked, hating the tremor in her voice, and the uncertainty whether it was out of fear or anticipation.

“You’ll see, little slut,” the voice was young, and he turned and moved down the hall in long, easy strides that Sharon nearly had to run to match. They past a corridor where she saw various people working with food for the concession stand, then turned down the next corridor. Sharon knew she should be relieved it was empty, but her sense of anxiety was building with each step the stranger led her away from anyone else. He paused, rapped once on a door, waited, and when there was no answer, opened it, catching her hand in his impossibly large one and pulling her in after him.

“You know me, little BZ Bitch?” his voice was a rumble… a younger version of Go, Sharon thought and felt an immediate flush of arousal. She was glad it was dark as she blushed in shame.

“No,” she managed.

“I’m Marvin… Marvin Love,” the big man waited as if she should know the name. She tried to think… Coach? Reporter? No, he was too young. Her breath caught as she remembered Heather and Kelly’s discussion. Love was the name of the quarterback who had also signed to play at State. “Good,” he had judged from her reaction that she knew him, “Now, little slut, I signed for State in part because Zeke introduced me to Shaun and he promised me grade A pussy. And I can’t argue… you are surely grade A pussy. Shaun told me you’d be happy to show me your gratitude for signing to play with your boys. Sharon bit her lip and nodded. Her arousal had continued to grow, faster than she was used to; she fully expected her clit to spark angrily at any moment.

She dropped to her knees without a thought, hand reaching for the player’s fly. She hesitated, finding the intricate lace of the football pants… it was the quarterback.

“No sweat, little bitch, here…” His big hands were remarkably nimble in loosing the tie and pushing the pants to his knees, baring his cock. Sharon found it with her hands and pulled him to her lips. “Whoa, whoa, little bitch,” the big young man set a palm on her forehead as if she was wanting to blow him, “Get outta those clothes.

“But,” Sharon stopped, too late.

“No buts,” the growl was more menacing, “Ain’t gonna have you working my tool with that school shirt on… And who knows, I may want a taste of that pussy or ass.” Blushing, Sharon pushed her pants down, then jerked the hoodie off, tossing it toward where she thought the door was. She caught his shaft in her hands again, and began to slurp at him noisily, licking up and down teasingly before taking him not just into her mouth but without difficulty into her throat.

“Damn! You are shit hot,” the boy chuckled, “Gonna have to be careful if’n I want to plow that nice cunt.” Sharon ignored him. She remembered something about athletes not having sex before games to keep from being tired… several of the football players had declined open offers from she or other BZ Sisters before games. If she could get him off, maybe he’d be bad the second half… Instead, he caught her head after only a few more strokes, pulling her off as she went on trying to suck at him.

“Nice try, little Slut,” he chuckled, “But if you’re gonna take my nut, it’s gonna go in your little white cunt.” He had pulled her to her feet and easily spun her around, pushing above her waist until she bent over.

“W-wait,” she huffed, “Condom… rules.”

“Ha… Nice try, little slut, but Shaun knows you already *******… took some BZ Brother yesterday, didn’t you?” Sharon blushed, and chose not to respond. Which was obviously sufficient response, as the big quarterback laughed, “You amazed how much the boy knows?” Sharon could not answer, as he had speared into her easily in the same moment and she was struggling not to moan encouragement, not wanting her son’s rival to know he had so totally mastered her. Even so the little rational thought she could still manage was wondering just that… how was Shaun always so aware of what she was doing?! The big janitor had likely called, especially after the condom had failed, she told herself, as Marvin’s rhythm picked up, his big cock steadily pushing her toward an orgasm.

“Hope you got some good undies,” Marvin taunted, “Gonna fill you up so bad you’ll leak a river back to your seat.” Sharon had to struggle to focus… God, she was so close… He knew how to fuck… She’d worn a thong… Did she even own other panties anymore? Her body began to shake, and she was there when her clit pulsed angrily.

“Aiieee!” she screamed, unable to stop it, barely aware her entire body was thrashing.

“Damn, are you kidding?” It felt like she was floating… disconnected from her body, but the voice had sounded different, and it wasn’t behind her. “Here… gonna get me some of that now…” And hands searching in the dark landed heavily on Sharon’s shoulder before someone found her head, pulling her against a second jutting erection. Her mouth sagged open and she accepted the stranger without hesitation… eager, in fact, bobbing her head almost violently as a different haze filled her mind. She wanted more of that pleasure… Now. “Ahhhh…. Take it easy, little BZ cocksucker,” the second big hand patted the back of her head like she was a dog, “There’s plenty of time… we got years to take advantage of this little body… And your little girl… She’ll be fun to break in, too.”

The men using her were quiet for a moment, before she heard dimly ‘five minutes’ called by someone outside the room.

“I’m too close, I think,” Marvin panted behind her, “Besides, I told her I was gonna fill her up. Allison, you ready to go if she’s worn me out?” Sharon wondered what he was saying, when another voice answered,

“Sure, if you’ll turn on the damn light so it’s not just hearing this… I don’t know about the others, but I still say that could be the two of you putting one over on us.”

“Your wish, my good man, and remember, come to State, pledge BZ, and the little bitch is yours to ball…” There was a flickering brightness and Sharon realized the room’s overhead light had been turned on, ******** her naked, bent at the waist, humping against one high school senior while someone else was feeding her his cock. She knew it was wrong… knew that flashes of camera phones could ruin her, but her only focus was on cumming.

“She’s great,” the guy fucking her face, stepped back, pulling out of her mouth and unbalancing the helplessly aroused white housewife, “But I ain’t risking a bad second half on a nut.” A big hand caught her chin, lifting her head until Sharon could see she had been sucking on Zeke’s cock. “But trust me, both you and yo’ little girl are gonna get plenty of this,” and he leered, tucking his still engorged cock into his pants with some difficulty, “Good thing we have the ball first. And don’t worry, I won’t break your precious little boy… gotta respect a man who can hold on like that. But you and your little girl… We’re gonna see how well you can hold it, too…” The others… several other younger football players, Sharon realized dimly, laughed. She wondered why no one else was stepping up to take a turn… needed to cum.

“Fuck!” she husked, her voice a low angry growl similar to what she had heard when Marvin was talking, “Fuck me! Get me off. She threw herself back, impaling her hungry sex on the quarterback’s driving cock. “Fuck… me… fuck me… fuck me!” The players went quiet, watching her.

“A’ight… you asked for it, cunt,” And Marvin’s big hands closed on Sharon’s hips as he began to hump into as hard and fast as he could. Sharon found she couldn’t catch her breath. She was going to cum… wanted to… needed to. She heard the guttural moans, and was surprised to realize it wasn’t Love, but her making the noise.

“Two minutes,” a voice sounded, much closer, “Don’t make me find you, boys.”

“Shit!” several of the others began to head toward the door.

“Gonna…” Marvin was panting behind her, “Gotta go… but gonna… gonna… Damn, you’re sexy… Ahhhh!” He went still, buried fully, and Sharon felt his jism spurt into her, a combination of searing heat and chilling cold. She pressed back, needing it, still mumbling incoherently but aware that she was angry. Chuckling, Marvin let go of her hips, and Sharon barely had time to get her hands up to keep from bashing her face against the cold concrete floor.

“Sorry, bitch, but I know you came once… We’ll get you off better later. For now gotta go back and beat your team. Have a fun second half…” He paused at the door, “Seein’s how I’m your new quarterback, and that I’m most definitely gonna fill that box up again soon, I wonder if you’ll find yourself cheering me on… what do you think?”

“Fucker!” Sharon hissed, “Limp dicked cocksucker, come get me off!” She blinked, shocking herself with the tone and words… What the fuck was wrong with her? She heard Marvin Love’s laughter in the corridor she guessed leading to the locker rooms fade. The red haze of her anger eased, and was replaced with a new sense of self-loathing… had she really demanded that he fuck her? She knew she had, and that she had wanted it… part of her still wanted it.

She realized she was on her hands and knees with her ass in the air, dripping a high school senior’s cum onto the floor. Cupping her soaked, still aroused pussy in one hand, she got up and gingerly moved around the room, reluctantly settling on the discarded towel one or another of the players had left in the room where they’d been watching their teammates use her. The towel had obviously been used in the first half-- there were dirt and grass stains and even a smear of blood. Selecting the less soiled side, she wiped at her sex repeatedly, before using her teeth to tear a strip that she tucked into the crotch of her thong, hoping to staunch any continued leakage of the quarterback’s jism.

Dressed, she found herself hesitant to leave the room… She wished she had a mirror to make sure she didn’t look as fucked out as she felt. Finally, she slipped out the door that Marvin had led her in through, and retraced her steps, slipping out of the employees only entrance to dash the short distance to the nearest women’s room.

When another woman started to reach for the sink Sharon had zeroed on straight through the door, she growled… literally growled, and the woman stepped back in surprise and obvious fright. Part of Sharon reveled in that response, but she suppressed it an managed to mumble an apology before ducking her head in the sink to begin scrubbing, just in case some of Zeke’s pre-cum was drying on her cheeks. Only when she was sure it was not obvious what had been happening did Sharon retie her hair and head back for their seats. Her phone buzzed, and she considered ignoring it, but knew that was not an option. Pulling it out of the pocket of her sweats, she saw that it was Chris, asking if she was okay.

“Of course I’m fine,” she said angrily, adding, “Fuck!” loudly enough under her breath that everyone heard. She flopped into seat beside him, glaring straight ahead, heedless of the sudden quiet that had arrived with her as the others looked at her in varying degrees of shock. “I’m serious,” she said through clenched teeth, “I was just walking around.” Reason regained some measure of control, and in case anyone had seen her at the far end of the field, “I even tried to sneak back to make sure my baby was okay. Scott could really have been hurt by that hit, but nobody did a thing.” She lapsed into silence, increasingly embarrassed about her little outburst, and the others’ reactions. ‘Damn them,’ a small voice tried to rail at their shitty attitude. Shocked that she was thinking like that, she forcefully quashed the anger, sitting back and sighing before offering everyone a sheepish apology for ‘being so moody.’

There was no real improvement in the second half… their boys were simply outmatched or had been cowed by the other team’s brash attitude. The general good cheer that had prevailed despite the score after the first half was gone. While trying to encourage the others not to give up, Sharon was more focused on what was wrong with her. Her behavior was scary, and not just the way she had learned to put up with sex with strangers… that she could understand. But she had said ‘fuck’ in front of Chris! And she could not understand why his simple call borne of concern for her had left her feeling so mad; another anxiety she would have to deal with, a question without an apparent answer.

The game ended 37 to 13. Scott caught a nice touchdown pass, and while everyone was cheering, Sharon found herself wondering if Zeke had missed the crossing route on purpose, and hating herself for feeling grateful to him for it. Marvin only played in the first two series before the opposing coach substituted a younger quarterback, and once again Sharon found herself wondering about what it meant… had he been too tired after fucking her to be on top of his game? Both young black men paused, talking to her son for several seconds after the game as the teams came onto the field to exchange congratulations, and she found herself terrified that they would be taunting him about what they had done, but both were smart enough or had been sufficiently warned by Shaun against killing the goose with the golden egg, that when Chris asked Scott about it during an early dinner, their youngest son threw out his chest and told them the college bound players had congratulated him for being the best on his team.

Chris was obviously impressed and assured Scott that was ‘what he had been trying to say,’ but it obviously meant more to her son coming from another player, and she could understand it, even if she was not sure it was really what they had meant. She hated that her secret life had her second guessing how good her son was, and whether it was really his skills that had prevailed that day.

Despite the compliments, the truth was the kids’ unbeaten team had lost the game. And just a week before the delayed final championship games. Scott and Catherine were both understandably quiet. Sensing the mood, Kelly suggested they all go to a movie, offering to treat, and suggesting Cathy see if Myra wanted to join them. When Scott asked if he could check with friends, Kelly shrugged and told him she did not mind, but asked if he would not rather be seen as the only guy with three ‘hot ladies’ on his arm. After wrinkling his nose and pointing out that one of them would be his sister, Scott agreed that he could go out just one night ‘without a wingman.’ Sharon handed them enough cash to be sure they could get something to eat after the show, and waved as they pulled out, laughing as if they had no care in the world.

Chris was watching the day’s highlights on SportsCenter when she went back inside. Flora had finished putting away dinner. Sharon meant to curl up with her husband to enjoy some together time, even if they could not do more. She knew that in just a couple more days she would be back at school, living the other life that seemed more her own than the one she was trying to protect with her ******. And in truth, she was glad Chris would not be pushing for a repeat performance of what they had done earlier in the break, not wanting to ****** her husband to anything the janitors, guard, or players might have had. She gritted her teeth at the thought… wondering if adult women could still get the Guardasil vaccination. A clinic visit could not come soon enough.

Chris held her without protest or suggestion. She had managed to fall asleep when he shook her awake,

“Babe, your phone’s buzzing.” He leaned forward when she just blinked at him, picking her cell phone off of the coffee table. “Here… You have a message.” Sharon came fully awake with the fear that her husband might be holding a text message from Shaun or Dave in her hand. She snatched it out of his grasp.

“Shit, I was asleep…” she mumbled, and then hoping to hide the abrupt way she had grabbed it away from Chris, “I hope the kids are all right.” She eyed the screen, aware that Chris could easily see it too, if he had not bee refocused on some slow motion replay of something from a College game.

‘Sharon, sorry to be a bug, but if at all possible I need you here tonight… before tomorrow night at the latest, to help with some research before school resumes. Thanks, Professor Eller.’ She sat up, groaning.

“Shit!” It took a conscious effort not to hurl the phone at the wall.

“What, babe?” She held the phone up, showing him the screen,

“My English Professor… my mentor. I’m supposed to help her with research, but I didn’t think she would be working over the holiday,” Sharon was not about to admit to her husband that she had no idea what research she was supposed to be helping with. “She wants me to come back up to help her.”

“Tonight?” Sharon handed the phone to Chris, who read the message, then shook his head.

“What’s she researching?” Sharon shrugged,

“She’s a novelist, too, remember? I help make sure her books are as factually correct as possible, and I help with the papers from the classes I’m not taking…” Chris hugged her,

“Well, if that’s what it takes to get to where you publish your own book…”

“How did you know I want to be a writer?” she asked in genuine surprise. Chris laughed,

“Baby, you’ve wanted to write as long as I’ve known you. You didn’t think I knew that’s why you wanted to go to State for school? To build the network to help make sure you’re the Sandy Brown of the Bible Belt?” Sharon leaned over, kissing her husband passionately.

“I love you so much,” she said, adding a hug, then pulled away, groaning as she looked at the clock, “But it’s so late…” She had almost convinced herself she could enjoy one more night of real life.

“Better not keep the old battle axe waiting,” Chris smiled, hugging her again, “If what Kelly says is at all true, you’ve been a positive influence on the Professor, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that.” Once again Sharon was surprised. She shivered, wondering if Chris really knew what she was doing but was somehow all right with it, and was just torturing her, feigning ignorance. He could not really want his wife to be having sex with other men? She snorted at the thought. No, he was just a good listener. Still, she knew she would have to be careful, and would have to remind Kelly, too.

She realized she was frowning at her husband, who had noticed and was obviously surprised.

“Trying to get rid of me?” The anger in Sharon’s words made Chris flinch. “Can’t wait for me to be back at school so you can do whatever you want?” She barely managed not to mention the porn on his computer. It was a real struggle to close her mouth. She focused on long, slow breaths, like she had learned in yoga years before.

“Whoa, babe,” Chris waved his free hand, while gently pulling her close with the arm he had looped around her shoulders, “Damn, you’re tense… You should get a massage once the Professor cuts you some slack. All I was saying was I did not want you to stay here if it would make her angry. I love you, remember?” Sharon blushed. She knew that, no matter how she had snapped at him. She kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry, but it’s been such a great weekend… And I appreciate how supportive you’ve been,” she kissed his lips, then sat back, “So you’ll really be okay if I leave?” Chris feigned ‘deep thinking’ for a moment, then nodded,

“We miss you when you’re gone, but I understand what you’re doing, and you’re not asking that much of me… besides, we can’t play slap and tickle tonight, anyway.” Sharon giggled.

“Well, I’ll be back before you know it, and for a couple weeks this next time,” She wondered why the statement left her with a sinking feeling, “I need you and the kids to send me your Christmas lists.”

“You won’t be back before the break?” Sharon shrugged, trying not to snap irritably at the whine in her husband’s voice.

“Dunno,” she sat up, patting his knee, then levering herself upright, “You know, projects, finals, and working with the research… I just hope she doesn’t demand I go back up for some of break.” Chris obviously had not thought about that. But he just nodded. Catching her hand, he pulled her down for another kiss.

“Drive safe, babe,” he held on to her hand, “And call when you get home.” Sharon smiled, then went up to the bedroom, collecting her things, double checking that nothing was left that would leave Chris wondering. When she went back down for a good-bye kiss, Chris had gone into the kitchen. He handed her an aluminum travel mug of coffee.

“And hurry home.” Sharon nodded, loving that her husband missed her but was so totally supportive. “Do you think you’ll have some new surprise when you get back?” For a moment Sharon was rocked by the certainty that he did know, and was just now revealing his awareness that she was a slut for other men. He laughed at whatever her expression was, “That… blow job was amazing. I may never let you graduate if you keep getting tips from Kelly and the other… Sisters.” Sharon slapped him, harder than she had meant to, but he took it as playful.

“Be a good boy and tell me what the doctor says and we’ll see,” she said, pausing after another prolonged hug and kiss at the door to go out to her car, “But what sort of surprise do you want?” She realized she was batting her eyes, baiting her own husband like a mark at the club. Chris shifted, pressing a hand against his crotch.

“Whoa!” he said, looking away, “That’s not playing fair! I’m not supposed to use him, remember?” Sharon laughed, surprised at the almost cruel edge to the sound. I’m sorry baby,” she said, stepping outside, “But I’ll ask Kelly what she thinks I should bring home as a surprise.” Chris waved, and was still watching when she looked through the window before pulling down the long drive to the street.

Her phone buzzed, and she made a mental note to activate the ringer once again, as she lifted it, clicking to see the new text message.

‘Text when you are on the way.’ She responded with one thumb while negotiating the turns out of the neighborhood, ‘I m otw now.’ After hitting send, she realized the text had not come from Professor Eller, but from Dave. Her phone buzzed again-- an incoming call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, there, sexy little bitch! So you missed us so much you had to come home early?”

“Uh, Professor Eller wants me back to help with something…” Sharon found herself wondering if the older woman was calling her back to help her service a line of eager young men. TWANG! Her clit pulsed, the Range Rover veering as she struggled to maintain control, amazed at how strongly her body had responded to the errant thought about doing a group sex session with her mentor.

“Uh-huh,” Dave said.

“It’s true,” Sharon answered curtly, mad at the tone the young man had used-- as if he did not believe her.

“Well, not exactly,” Dave said, and the butterflies came alive in Sharon’s stomach, “See, didn’t want ol’ hubby worrying if the frat called you back. But Professor Eller was kind enough to help us out… She does that all the time now, thanks to you.” Sharon was silent, hating herself for the way she had so willingly turned a woman she had long admired over to the same men making her life a living hell.

“Anyway, little bitch,” Dave went on, “Do you still have that shit hot costume?”

“I have lots of costumes,” she answered, “It’s a requirement to work at Go’s, remember?” There was a pause, Sharon guessed at the impertinent tone she had used in answering. She could not believe what she had done, but was smiling triumphantly. Damn, that had felt good.

“Watch it, little bitch,” Dave warned, “I meant the devil costume from our big Halloween party.” Sharon blushed, remembering.

“Yes, I kept it, why?”

“Well, I thought you’d want to get the mask, at least… See we need Mrs. Sharon Synn to join us in about 90 minutes.” Sharon checked the clock reflexively. That was not much time.

“The text said tomorrow would have been fine…”

“Well, now that you’re back, we’re gonna don this tonight,” Dave’s tone held more than a little warning.

“Okay,” Sharon said, increasing her speed as home disappeared with the lights of the city in her rear view mirror. “I’ll be there.”

“Oh, I never doubted it, my little bitch,” Dave assured her, “Trust me, you’ll have fun.” Sharon watched the passing lane markings, wondering what the BZ Brother had in store for her, and ashamed that she was partially looking forward to it…

“All right!” Dave shouted, gesturing to some of the other frat members who had stayed or come home early, “Make sure the link up is set… Gonna see if we can’t make the big time with our married white bitch.” He made a mental note to point out to their pet wife that if she did not drop the attitude the mask could go away… She would probably not want a few million people to see her as the sex star they had made her, but then he was also sure that by the time the cameras went on she would be more than willing to do anything they wanted. God, it was great being a BZ he thought, smiling broadly as he anticipated the new wealth their little white wife was going to bring in…

NEXT, Chapter 15: Ornaments, gift wrap, and the ball