Susan was on her knees, tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks as she begged and pleaded through piteous sobs. Implacable as granite, I deigned to sneer down on her and then I turned my back on her to stare out my window. 

“Oh, Des, I have been such a fool! Please take me back!” she sniffled. “Look, I really mean it! I know I have been a complete bitch and I need to make it up to you! What can I do? Tell me. Please?” her sobbing continued.

“Oh, very well, then. Let’s see if you can pass this test.” I was nude under my dressing gown. I untied my belt and sat in my favourite armchair and spread my thighs, crooked a finger at her, and pointed down.

A look of dismay crossed her face. “Seriously?” she asked.

I shrugged. “You ask. I answer. All else is up to you.”

“Yes. Yes! Of course. You’re right.” With that, she fell to her knees. 

“Wait! You’re still dressed!”

“What? Why?”

“Visuals matter and you do have gorgeous tits. Either top off or the door’s that way.”

In less than a heartbeat, the equivalent of an average week’s salary in the form of her haute couture blouse and luxury designer bra were on the floor. As she tried to lower her head onto my lap, her long, blonde hair cascaded over my thighs. I snared a handful of hair. 

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Susie.”

“It’s Susan!” she snarled.

“Start with a hand, nice and slow. Gentle. Sensual as you can make it.”

“Yes, Des.” Her hand was feather light, her soft strokes sending maddening little pleasure shocks up and down the shaft. My pleasure doubled when my hands found her breasts, her stiff nipples heaven on my palms. She leaned down to wrap her full lips around my cockhead and draw it into her warm, moist mouth. Her tongue trapped and rolled me against her hard palate. Dangerous!

“No!” I snarled. “Slow! Easy! Make it last! Just lick the shaft, bottom to top, then again with slow, sexy, lingering kisses. Got it?” 

She glanced up with a sly grin. “Of course, Des. Whatever you say.” She straightened up and suddenly she had buried my cock in her cleavage. “Does your cock love my tits as much as your eyes do? Oh my! Yes!” Now she was massaging her perfect C-cup breasts with my shaft, rubbing her hard little nipples on the ridge of my crown. I moaned just as the doorbell clanged. I awoke with a start. It rang and rang and rang again. Somehow I knew it was Saturday and bleary eyes read 6:43 AM on my bedside clock.

Startled but still half asleep, I rolled out of bed, pulled on a robe and stumbled down the stairs.

“Coming!” I shouted, trying to tie the cord and navigate the stairs without breaking my neck. I made it.

“Where’s the fire?” I yelled as I yanked open the door with one hand while holding my robe in place with the other. 

It was Lucy, my best friend, my one true love, a hardcore lesbian, and the very last person I wanted to see today. She sauntered past me with a “Morning, sleepyhead!” 

“Do you know what time it is?”

“My wedding’s in two weeks and my party’s tonight, so it’s Lucy-running-late time. Is what’s-her-name upstairs?”

“Her name is Susan, and no, she’s not.”

“Good! Come along.” She took the stairs two at a time, me plodding behind. By the time I caught up she’d doffed her coat and was sitting in my chair with her booted feet on my bed.

“Go on. Get dressed,’ she said. “You can buy me breakfast.” 

I yawned. “Too damn early and no mood for food.” Still half asleep, I slumped onto on the bed. 

Lucy grinned a wicked grin. “Oh, dear! My naughty little poet’s been a very dirty little boy!” 

I glanced down. My robe had come open and pre-cum was still glistening on the tip of my not quite flaccid cock. I covered up. She got up, sauntered over to stand beside me with a feral grin on her face. She grabbed the lapels of my robe, yanked it open, then held it there while her greedy eyes drank in my nudity and the viscous ooze from my meatus.

“You filthy wanker!” she said in her gorgeous north London accent. I snatched my robe back but modesty seemed pointless. She straightened up but kept staring down at me and grinning. 

“Said the pot to the kettle!” It was the best I could do on short notice. That and glare up at her.

Bad idea. Not just that my chances of surviving a glaring contest with Lucy were non-existent, there were also her knee-high boots, her skin-tight leggings, and her breast-hugging top, which was shamelessly flaunting a matched pair of prominent nipples. The mere sight of her standing over me with her hands on her hips and her body angled at me in a fighter’s stance was turning me on. A deeply erotic CFNM–dominatrix vibe radiated from the swollen camel toe flashing me from her parted thighs. I wanted nothing more than to lie back and open myself to another rough and proper ravishing at her merciless hands. 

“I wasn’t jerking off, I was dreaming,” I said as I turned away from her, trying to hide my arousal.

“Was I in it?”

“No.”

“No? Then it had to be the ‘lovely’ Susan?” I nodded. “What the hell do you see in her?”

“Just leave it!” I snapped. “OK?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” It was petulant more than the snarl I’d been going for, but it worked. She frowned.  

She heaved a sigh and sat beside me on the bed and gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Okay, hon, I get it. Relationship shit. Didn’t mean to pry. Sorry.” A pause, then “Forgiven?”

“Yeah. Sure.” 

“So are you bringing her to the wedding?” 

“No.”

“Why not? Oh! Oops. Sorry. Again.” 

“All right, dammit! She dumped me. There! Are you happy now?”

She scowled and slapped my face, hard. “You little bitch!” Another stinging slap. My cock was fast getting a fair bit fatter. “When the hell did that happen? Why the fuck am I just hearing about it now?”

“Just last night, out of nowhere.”

“Oh. OK. Great!” she beamed, then caught herself and her face morphed into pseudo-sympathy and her hand was on my thigh, stroking gently and working its way higher. “Oh, you poor thing!” I shrugged and her sympathy evaporated, like desert dew at high noon. “Oh, well. I always knew she wasn’t right for you. So, who are you bringing?” 

“I’ll be there for the vows, but I’m skipping the reception.” Her face morphed into an angry dark cloud, but I was ready. “I am not going to be one of those pathetic singles everyone thinks is only there for free drinks and a hope of scoring with a drunk bridesmaid.”

The storm cloud evaporated. She grinned and her hand left my thigh to cup my chin. “Not to worry, sweetie, Your Lucy will find you a proper date.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Her answer was to slap my face yet again, only the once, and not nearly hard enough to reinforce my blossoming erection.

“Great! That’s sorted.” Her hands cupped my face and she leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. “Now. Can we talk about tonight? My hen party, remember? The RSVP you’ve been ignoring?” 

“I did not ignore it! I texted you - TBNT - thanks but no thanks.”

“We’re meeting up at The Nag’s Head around eight for food and fuel, and then on to my suite at the King Eddie.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I am not going! Do I really want to be the only guy at a hen party? Seriously?”

“Don’t be so fucking sexist! It is gender neutral, and you won’t be the only penis in the room. You’ll have a great time. I’m talking booze, poker, porn — lesbian of course — and the best little stripper in the city.” 

“Don’t you mean the ‘only straight penis’?” 

“The only straight guy, maybe, but you will not have the only straight penis! I’ll be wearing mine!”

“Ha-ha!” 

She sighed, shook her head and took a new tack. “Des, please? I need you there.” She put a hand on my knee and I pushed it off. I was in no mood for some Lucy style manipulation. “You are my best friend in the whole world! Please?” She put her hand back on my knee.

“Really? Even so…” 

Her hand moved up a bit and her slender fingernails raked my inner thigh with maddening effect. “Yes! Really. Don’t you get it? This is my very last fling. It can’t be the same without you!”

“It’s hardly the end of the world though. Is it?” I pushed her teasing hand away. 

“It’s important! I really want you there.”

“My graduation was important. To me. And a few dozen other milestones you were too damn busy for. But they weren’t all about YOU either.” She glared and her face flushed, but she said nothing. “I’d never miss your wedding, Lucy, but this other crap? No way.” 

“I had no idea…”

“What! That I have feelings? That I can be hurt?”

“No, stupid. That I mean that much to you. I had no idea I'd be missed. You never said a fucking thing, it was all like ‘You can’t come? Oh. Okay. No prob’.”

“Well pardon me! I don’t twist arms. If you’d wanted to you’d’ve been there.  It was always up to you.” Tears welled up. “Of course I bloody missed you. Tough shit now. Water under the bridge. Go away so I can get back to bed.” 

There was a long pause. “Can I have a glass of water before I go please?”

I nodded at the en suite. “Help yourself.” 

“I’d prefer filtered if it’s not too much trouble. ”

I gritted my teeth but got up and went downstairs to get it. When I got back the en suite door was closed but I could hear the tap running. As I put the glass down on the bedside table the door opened. I turned around and breath and time stopped. She had taken off her top and boots and she stood there, her face blank but with her pert breasts not at all hidden by her sheer black bra. 

A tidal wave of powerful emotions surged through me. 

Surprise. 

Lust. 

Shock. 

Lust. 

Fear. 

Lust. 

Delight. 

Lust. 

Plus a few others, but mostly Lust. My face was on fire and my chest was caught in a vice. She smiled then and cupped a breast and caressed her nipple with a slow circling thumb. 

“Remember I said I was going for one last fling tonight? Well, ‘fling’ is spelled ‘d-e-s’ and since you’re being a party pooper, it has to start early. Like  now.” With that, she came a step towards me and took hold of my robe with both hands, pulled and swivelled. I stumbled, and with a hard push, she slammed me into the wall by the bed and followed it with a knee to the groin. More surprised than hurt, I grunted and bent over as she swivelled the other way, spinning me with a pull one way and a push the other and with an almost delicate touch of her foot to my ankle, she swept me off my feet and flung me onto my back on the bed, my robe open, my cock already swelling.

She stood over me, leering. “Does dainty little Susie know how rough you like it?” 

I shook my head and tried to sit up, but she put a knee on the mattress, leaned over, grabbed me by the wrists and with a measure of strength surprising for her slender build, she pushed me down onto my back and pinned my arms to the mattress over my head, her face mere inches from mine her breath warm, moist, and honey-sweet. 

“Don’t let this go to your head! I’m getting married to the woman I love, and you’re still stuck with a dick, remember?” 

“But - “ She shut me up by planting her lips on mine and jamming her tongue into my mouth. Without letting go of my wrists or lips she lifted her other knee onto the bed and over me to first straddle my hips and then lower her full weight onto me trapping me in a full body pin with her legs snaked around mine, grapevining them wide and holding my lower body open to her whims. I could feel the heat of her crotch on my now fully hardened cock. 

Oh my God! How I had longed for this! How many years had it been since she’d ravished me? Too damn many.

She shifted into gear, her hips rotating, grinding, the wet heat of her cunt and the satiny feel of her leggings were heaven-sent kisses on my tender cockskin. 

“Why now?” I gasped when she finally relaxed her lip-lock. “Fourteen years on?” 

“Anyone ever tell you your timing sucks?” she growled. “Shut the fuck up!” She reared back and yanked one of my arms across my chest then pinned it there with her body. Her free hand took a handful of hair and pulled my head sharply to open my neck to her teeth and lips. I moaned and rolled my head a bit further to ease the pressure of her grip and to offer her more of me. She yanked my head off the pillow and slammed it back down. I grunted. She chuckled let my hair go so she could catch my throat in a grip of iron. Without missing a beat her lip-nibbles left a trail of fire as she kissed her way to my ear and then my earlobe was between her teeth. She bit me, hard, and I groaned in pleasure.

“OK,” she said in a throaty whisper, “it’s like this. Neither of us got laid last night, you need a consolation fuck, and I’m just horny as hell.” Her plump lips went on exploring my face, lighting little fires wherever she kissed me, her hips in rough motion the whole time, her pubic bone doing wondrous things for my cock. 

She stopped dry-fucking me just long enough to again adjust her position with a fluid speed and precision that allowed me no chance to escape even if I’d wanted to. She let my wrist go just long enough to wrap an arm tight around my head to pin my arm to my ear. Satisfied with my immobility she lowered her boobs onto my face and went back to masturbating on my penis, only now with her hips pumping hard in overdrive, her breathing heavy, her gasping loud and unfettered and then her climax, sudden, screaming, and shuddering.

She paused a few moments and then her lips, now soft and light as a summer breeze, teased mine. She paused. “I do love you, you know. It’s not your fault you’re the wrong gender for fucking. I’m also making a point. Besides, all that someone has to straighten out your fucked up love life, find you the kind of girl you want and deserve. Nobody, but nobody knows this side of you better than me!”

She relaxed onto me, her breathing heavy and a moment later she shifted her weight the side and her hand took the place of her crotch on the top half of my cock, her grip tight and cruel, her strokes short, fast, and rough. “Want me to finish you like this?”

“Not yet, please. I want this to last forever.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Her grip lightened and her pace slowed.

My hands were now free to explore her wiry little body. They wandered freely from her delicate face to her firm breasts and from her flat abs to her curvy buttocks. Finally, my fingers slid under the waistband of her tights and panties to probe her sopping cunt, my long fingers rolling her pussy lips and kneading the wings of her clit, her vestibular bulbs.

She moaned softly. “Sweet Jesus! You’re nearly as good as a woman! Do not stop!” She rolled onto her back and I half-topped her, my free hand fondling a breast, enjoying the texture of her silk bra while my lips and tongue and teeth wandered over her upper body, her armpits, neck, ears, face, lips, pleasuring her as they went. Somehow her body was telling me she wanted it faster and harder, and her pumping hips made it easy. Her gasps got louder and she shuddered into her second climax. We slowed down a bit, my fingers gentler and slower, probing less now.

In a moment, she slid from under me and almost effortlessly rolled me onto my back. I turned my head toward her and again her lips were crushing mine and her tongue pushing its way into my mouth. Nice, but not rough enough. I wanted her to leave my lips bruised, if not bleeding. Too soon, yet not soon enough, her engorged lips kissed their way off my face and down, onto my chest to clamp onto my nipple, and her lips, tongue and teeth kissed, licked, and nibbled, and sent waves of bone-melting pleasure radiating through every fibre of my being.

My fingers kept on playing with her hot wet pussy, her lips and clit, loving its slick, almost oily texture, its wet heat. She moaned as I probed her vagina and I worshipped the feeling of her taking me in, the not so gentle way she tightened herself on my fingers. How good would that feel on a cock? What would she taste like? Salty? Sweet? Musky? How would she smell? I withdrew my hand to learn her taste and her scent, both surprisingly mild, a hint of salt and a slightly heavier scent of musk. I glanced at her, she was smiling at me. 

“May I?” 

“Please do.” She raised her butt and once her leggings and panties were off, she positioned her parted thighs over my face and lowered her pussy onto my eager mouth. At the first lap of my tongue on her clit, her thighs closed on my ears. Her face was on my tummy, and she was massaging my cock with a hand and now and then planting a wet kiss on the shaft.

Her orgasm came quickly and was quieter, yet somehow more profound, more deeply satisfying. Her steel thighs loosened their grip on my head and she rolled off me and opened her arms and we embraced.

“Memories!” she murmured. “Reminds me of when we met. Our first year at Uni,” she murmured. “I picked you up at that dorm party. Remember? The tequila made me do it. I needed to know why so many girls were making such a fuss about cocks.” 

“You were rougher then. It was almost rape.” 

“Really?”

“You sat on my face, rode it bareback and hard, as good as raped me with your pussy.”

“You loved it!”

I nodded. “Afterwards, when you told me you were a lesbian I said you made me wish I’d been born a girl!” 

“Yeah, I remember. I really rocked your world, that night, didn’t I?”

“You sure did.”

“That reminds me. Unfinished business.” With that, she mounted me with a giggle and wrapped her arms around my face to cradle my nose and mouth firmly into her breasts, still clad in the sexiest bra in history. They were too small to actually smother me but there was enough sex fire in the merest touch of them on my skin to inflame me. My throbbing cock was pressing firmly against some part of her lower body, a thigh probably. Gasping in arousal, I started grinding furiously against her.

She let go of my head and pushed me away with a laugh. “Let me have the pleasure of finishing you. What’ll it be? Oral? Anal? Vaginal?”

“Whoa! Are you kidding me? I thought that penetration is strictly off your piste.”

“Not today. Not for you. Besides, I already let you finger and eat my pussy, so in for a penny, eh?”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be.”

“If you brought your strap-on, you could fuck my ass.”

“If I’d known you were going to be a prat I would have. What’s Plan B?”

“I’ve always loved your tits, Lucy.”

She looked surprised and took her B-cups in her hands as if to measure them. “A bit small for a boob job, aren’t they?”

“If you leave your bra on, we’ll be fine.” 

“OK. If that’s you want, you can try fucking my tits but if you cum on my face, you’re a dead man!”

She got back on the bed kneeling between my open thighs and again pushed me down onto my back. I wrapped my legs around her waist as she lowered her perfect little breasts, beautifully cupped in her gorgeous black see-through bra onto my pulsing cock. She let me have my fill of savouring the tactile heaven of the delicate embroidery before taking me under her silk to let me frot myself between her breasts. 

It was far from my first boob job, merely the best. Yes, her breasts were small, but with the help of her bra and my eager hands pressing them together they were more than big enough, her cleavage more than tight enough. 

Which mattered not a damn. The only thing that mattered was that MY cock was nestled between HER tits. More powerful than the mere mechanics was the idea of breasts and cock in skin-on-skin contact, the urge for it strong enough to drive me far beyond wild to the most powerful orgasm of my life. It left me thoroughly drained, almost paralysed. 

Later, cuddling and still basking in the afterglow, I asked, “You said you were fucking me to make a point?” 

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Fair enough. Did I or did I not rock your world?” 

“You know it!” 

“As good as Susan?”

“Better, by a mile.”

“And all the others?”

“Ditto.”

“Great! I’ll tell you the rest after your date with Chantal.”

“Who?”

“Chantal. Your date for my wedding.”