Amorous Goods: Season 1
Prologue:
A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Open the door, and take a step inside:
Amorous Goods: Gaudus
Invited a friend to safeguard me enjoying sexual artifact.
Based on a post by ShowTime8. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.
Prologue:
A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.
Funny how much the preparation centered on my friend, Marie, and choosing a date when her husband was out of town at the same time my husband was traveling. Then the excuse to have her sleep over was not forced. Falling in October, I was incited to try the third gaudus, the last adventure, the forbidden.
"The box is ornate," Marie said. "Very unusual. Where did you get this?" She hesitated but I encouraged her to trace the delicately carved design with her fingers. I perceived a small shudder and a momentary loss of focus before she fixated on the illustration, very similar to my reaction the first time I touched the motif and then all sorts of symbols and figures within the pattern seemed obvious. Hearts and circles with lines symbolizing classical gods of love, serpent-like marks fitting tribal archetypes of fertility, an arc pierced by an arrow from the occult, and more of the phallus and sexual feats.
"I found this odd little shop in the city," I answered her question. "You'd probably call it the shady part of town. It was mixed in with smoke shops and sex boutiques and other stores selling incense and tarot cards and touristy kind of voodoo paraphernalia. I don't know why this shop seemed more authentic. As I entered, the owner led me to a back room where I could examine this box. She was like a gypsy, telling me small things about where I lived and my marriage that she probably guessed from my clothes or my words or my facial expressions to the things she was saying. She told me of her vision, of how I would visit and this box was meant for me, and it all became very convincing that somehow by fate I came to unite with this artifact.
"And how does all this work?" Marie wanted to know. "Why do you light these candles around your room and place these crimson towels beside of your bed?"
"I make it a ritual. Maybe it's my own doing. I wipe them lightly with the towels when I'm done and then I won't erode the natural oils with soap. The experiences guide me, like each time I do the gaudus I learn something new. I let my feelings guide me. For this occasion, for this third gaudus, I bought this special robe, this black satin robe. And I ask you to watch over me, to make sure nothing bad happens. Because I'm nervous. I'm anxious but more, I'm afraid."
"What do you call them?" Marie wanted to know. "Each one is a gaudus, or a gaudu, or all three are gaudi?"
"I don't know, the woman said 'Experience the gaudus' and I called each one a gaudus."
I opened the lid and showed Marie the three wooden objects laying in their molded berths of velvet. Three small knobs like shoe horns or the neck of a bow that could fit in your hand and nest with your palm and the crook of your thumb. The shape and etchings evoked millennia of women seeking gratification. I touched the chestnut colored horn in the middle, and then the dark mahogany horn on the left. But not the light birch horn on the right.
"They don't look like much," Marie commented, but her tone was friendly and light.
"I thought that, too" I agreed. "But after you encounter one and you appreciate the way it grows on you, you won't look at them the same. The first one I experienced was this caramel colored piece in the middle. I was seduced by a bronzed Italian stud on the Riviera. It's crazy, but I think it happened."
Marie looked surprised and also concerned for me.
I continued, "This dark piece on the left took me to a wild adventure in the jungle, where I was forced to submit and yet I woke with rejuvenation. If you watch you will see, I know. But if you can, I fear what this third journey will bring, and I want you to safeguard no physical harm comes to me."
"What makes you worried?" Marie asked. "Why is it different?"
"There's a symbol on the bottom of it," I explained. I lifted the piece and showed her the end. "It's faint but that looks like a Christian cross, and roughly hewn. I feel a strange mixture of emotions when I touch it. And the color is pale, like death."
"Let me touch it," Marie suggested.
"It will be safer if I go first. You'll see how quickly these pieces transform. I'm certain of that. There are many aspects still unclear, as to what took place and what was imagination, and I questioned if I was losing my mind. But you will see the transformation. Watch."
I rolled the pale wood in my fingertips and rubbed my thumbs up the smooth shaft of the bow. Instantly it was larger in my hands. I rubbed it across my chin and smelled the ruddy mix of blood and dirt and sweat. I brushed my cheek flush against the tip. I kissed the soft surface and let the round head nestle on the inside of my lips.
My tongue tasted the underside. I made it wet with my saliva yet savored its own moisture. Heavy and masculine and aggressive. I was offended at first but became accustomed to it. Like the first time when that boy, Jared, kissed me. I wasn't expecting it and I could smell his breath and he must have eaten something like meat. The smell put me off but then I accepted it and learned it like coffee or liquor, and I could anticipate the depth of the kinship like knowledge itself.
My thumbs and fingers worked the shaft, firm and full and slippery from my saliva. The slickness helped the shaft swell. I created friction through a circle of thumb and forefinger. It swelled in in my mouth as I pushed down to receive its length. I felt the ridge of the helmet bump my lips on each pass. I tried to extend my tongue to simultaneously tease the meaty underside and the tender skin along the middle ridge.
A bright light pierced the darkness. The light shone in my eye and made me squint. I could barely discern the pale tip of the cock before my face as I held it in my hands. Above, the dark silhouette of shoulders and hood eclipsed the beam of light but I saw no facial features.
"Do not hesitate," he commanded me. "You will accept the sacrament."
I tried to catch my breath. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue to receive. He pushed into my mouth roughly, forcing to the back of my throat. It made me gag. At the same time I felt my vagina clench and send a tingle through my pelvis. His hands on the back of my head held me down.
I pressed my hands against his thighs to hold him back but he moved my hands one at a time to his testicles. "Feel the weight," he commanded me. They were large and hairy as they hung in my fingers. I looked forward to the time I could make them retract and yield their juice.
"You will stand and be naked before us," he said sternly. I stood as he raised my hands. He untied the front of my robe and pushed the collar back off my shoulders. I pulled the robe off the rest of the way and let it fall at my feet. Though the air was warm, I felt a chill on my nipples.
"You have sinned," he yelled sternly.
"No," I screamed. "I have done nothing wrong.
"Do not tell us the lame tale that you are a victim! We are not ignorant of your ways and the methods you young girls use to tease men. You led him to defile your body!"
"No, I never asked for that," I said. "He forced himself on me."
"Do not lie to us! We can make you tell the truth."
"I said 'No' yet he forced himself."
"Did he force himself in your mouth or in your womb?" The man's voice shook within my head.
"First in my mouth," I answered. "We were kissing in the back of the car as any teenagers do. That is not a sin. He grabbed my head and forced me into his lap. I had not even seen in the darkness that he unzipped himself and his cock was hard. He shoved my mouth onto his cock. He smelled bad. I don't think he had showered in days. And his friends in the front were laughing as he fucked my head."
"You enjoyed it!" the man demanded.
"I did not want it," I protested.
"When it happened, you took him in your mouth and you enjoyed it." I did not deny this. "And you led him to take your maidenhood?"
"No, he stole my virginity. I never consented. He pushed me back on the seat and ripped my panties off. His friends leered at me over the front seat and one took my panties as a souvenir. He was too strong for me and I could not stop him. He pushed his cock inside of me and it was all I could do to withstand the sting as he took my virginity."
"Do not lie to us!" he commanded again. "You did not close your legs or try to stop him. You did not scratch him or punch with those little fists of yours. You wished the others would have fucked you, too, that night."
"They did not," I asserted.
"You wished it," he insisted. "You wished as he thrust his manhood in your vagina and squeezed his hot sperm in your body that the others would follow."
"I could not stop my body," I argued. "I was young but my body was disposed to mate. When he took control of my vagina and he stimulated my genitals then my mind could no longer stop it."
"Look how wet you are," he demanded, shoving his fingers in my cunt. He pushed two fingers inside, sliding deeper in and out. Then he put those fingers to my mouth and made me taste my stimulation. "The devil has possessed your womb and makes you lead young men to sin."
"They force their will upon me," I protested.
"You will atone for your transgression." My hands were lifted roughly above my head and back, forcing me to fall back on the bed. I expected to feel the soft cushion of my mattress but it was hard and firm, a wooden plank to angle my body elevated and vulnerable. My hands were tied to the upper corners and I could not defend myself. The strain on the sinews of my shoulders sent a rush of adrenaline through my body. Standing between my legs, he opened his robe completely and revealed his erect cock at the edge of my vagina. It was not large or attractive, but he rubbed the tip on my lips and made them swell and open to want him.
He pushed his cock slowly inside of me and the strength of his cock felt good against the tight cincture of my cunt. As he cleared the rim of my entrance and lubed my vagina, I felt wetness spread through my pelvis. I relaxed to take him and ease him deep within. The silhouette of his hooded frame hovered over me before the dancing flame of a torch ensconced on the wall.
"You consort with the devil," the man breathed heavily in my face. His pelvis bumped my clitoris as he thrust completely inside. The electricity running up my spine prevented me from thought or speech. "He has chosen you and he will possess you."
The man withdrew and left a hole of want and loss inside of me. I whimpered for him not to stop. My hands were taken and turned to force my body over, my nipples rubbing against the hard grain of the wood. I tried to press up on my elbows so my swollen nipples would not be scraped. The man pushed my legs apart sternly.
"You wish to yield your anus," he commented.
"No, I've never done that," I denied him.
"You wish it," he corrected me. "You desire to take my cock and lose your anal virginity." He pressed his cock at the entrance of my anus. It was wet and firm and it set all of the tender nerves in my pelvis on fire. As he forced the head of his cock in the tight cincture of my ass I was powerless to relax but I could enjoy the friction of his strength within the trying rim of my muscles. My ass was struggling to stay closed and at the same time desiring him to push further. When he more fully entered my ass and fucked it as he had fucked my cunt, I appreciated the tight swish of his gnarly stick firing impulses all around my pelvis. Slick and tingling while tugging the sphincter. I wanted him to cum in my ass.
"You will prepare him," the man commanded. I did not understand him. I was lost to his cock.
"You will prepare him," the man repeated. I opened my eyes and saw the small dark knob before my face. It was the mahogany gaudus now brushing my cheek. I smelled its musk. The deep, meaty odor of animals rutting in the jungle. I opened my mouth and sucked on the head and then the shaft of this black cock. It was instantly swollen, much more quickly than I had experienced before. The foreskin protecting the helmet retracted and I could run my tongue on the edgy rim of the head. It tasted earthy and scorched like burnt wood or incense. I licked more eagerly to understand the complexity.
The black cock was full now and impaled in my throat. I relaxed my esophagus to deep throat the shaft. Bigger than I remembered but pushed slowly without coercion to allow me to swallow. When I choked for air he withdrew. He pressed his testicles to my face and I kissed them. I snaked my tongue under his balls and teased the meaty bulge between his scrotum and anus. He lifted one leg before my face to let me lick this area and taste the nasty, dirty ooze of his sweat and filth. I longed to lick his testicles and suck his cock at the same time.
The man stopped fucking my ass but held still within me. He rolled me over and now I lay back against his chest with his cock fully up my butt. His legs wrapped around my ankles and held my legs spread open. He grabbed my wrists and forced my arms behind me to the small of my back, clutched in one of his hands, arching my frame and tilting my hips.
"You will receive his wonder," the man commanded in my ear. "You will take the darkness and feel the utter glory of his power.
The black cock pushed into my vagina. I had never felt two at once. The pressure within was unbearable as the man in my ass pressed my muscle wall against the black cock. The black man sensed the limits of my body and slid slowly. Contortions flashed across my face. My cunt melted to a river flowing on his shaft. When he was completely inside, and the crux of his groin bumped against my clit, then he increased the pace and hit all the ribs of my vagina in cycles of fire.
His body was so hairy over me. I saw the hair shooting from his head before the fire of the torch. There may have been smoke from the torch or incense burning that made it hard for me to focus. I could smell the obscure and foreign aroma of incense mixed with his sweat as he grunted close to my face. I thought for a moment those might be horns or was I imagining shapes from his spiky hair in silhouette? His hands were rough like paws on my shoulders to hold me down as he thrust inside and bumped my cervix. Fortunately, the man behind laid still within my ass to let the black man dictate the progression, but he teased my nipples with his free hand. His fingers were normal and soft enough to titillate me without harm.
"That's so beautiful," the woman whispered in my ear. Her voice surprised me.
"Is that your disciple?" the man behind asked me gruffly.
I tried to see her face to understand who. Her hair was darker, straighter and a little longer than I remember Marie's. Her eyebrows were full and thick, but sharp above her eyes. Her lips were red with a tint of lipstick between rose and blood. And she wore my robe, or she had found a satin robe almost identical to the one I had been wearing. By the way her nipples pressed the fabric, I perceived she was not wearing anything else.
"Did you bring a disciple to assist your breeding?" the man behind asked further. The woman only smiled at me and brushed my cheek gently. The lightness of her nails barely touching my skin contrasted how vigorously the black man thrust in my cunt. She leaned down and kissed me with those red lips. It was wrong and I tried to turn away. She held my chin and edged her tongue between my lips and tried to fuck my mouth with it.
The woman withdrew. She traced the caramel gaudus down the bridge of my nose and poked my cheek with it. Then she leaned back slightly with a smirk and inhaled the tip of the gaudus. I tried to focus, to understand if it was Marie, but she seemed more like a relative, perhaps Marie's younger cousin. She slobbered on the gaudus and then turned it sideways before my eyes, sliding her tongue under the length to tease me. As it grew, the woman sucked it within the O of her lips. She let it pop out with a distinctive smack and touched it lightly to my lips. I tasted the rich Tuscan sun that I knew so well but mixed now with the woman's slaver. I tried not to react so it would not encourage her but I knew the waves of vigor from the dark cock that owned my cunt overwhelmed me and sent ripples of submission across my face.
The woman smiled and formed her lips to an O again, yet overly demonstrative to make me watch. She sucked the cock deeply. I saw her tongue poke out to tease the tender bulge, as I had done, and letting her spit pool to a drop running down to his balls. He stepped close to my head, which blocked the dim light of the flame, and I could only see shadows of his testicles near my forehead and the massive curve of his thigh and the intricate curve of her lips sliding on his cock. It seemed that he wanted me to watch the cock I loved being sucked by another.
The man in my ass started to hump slightly. Just a subtle counter movement to the large, black cock stuffing my vagina like a piston. My eyes rolled back as I lost control.
The caramel cock pushed at my lips now. He was standing over me and I saw nothing. I tilted my neck back to take the length of his cock directly down my throat. I enjoyed the familiarity of his shape. But I also tasted the unusual saltiness of the woman. Or it could have been a mix of the woman and his pre-cum. I was swimming in the simultaneous fucking of my cunt, my ass and my mouth.
Fingers playing lightly over my nipples. It completed the sensation on all parts of my body. Delicate fingers pinching and rolling my nipples, and barely brushing over the tops like wind. Small, graceful touches. Not his fingers but hers.
The proctor stated in my ear, "You like her touch."
I mumbled on the cock, "No, I did not seek sex with another woman."
"Yes, confess it!" he countermanded me. "You have fantasized about a woman touching you." My Italian lover withdrew his cock, now dangling over my face. The woman leaned forward and slurped at the tip, as though trying to taste my sex with him as much as to pleasure the cock itself. As she leaned over me, and her robe fell open, her tit was pendulous over my face. Her tit was ample and younger than I knew for Marie. The nipple was engorged and protruded near my lips. I turned my face slightly so her nipple would not fall to my lips as I watched her suck on him. She swept her hand down my belly and fingered my clitoris. The tingling was extreme with the cock filling my cunt and the cock filling my ass. She knew how to alternate between pinching my labia against the cock and flitting her fingers over the hood of my clit.
She relinquished her oral grip and the stud reinserted to my mouth. He coaxed the first half of his cock in my lips so I would not choke. She used one hand on my nipples and one on my clit.
The proctor stated, "Yes, you enjoy her touch. You want her to lick you."
I could not argue because of the cock in my mouth, but I whimpered against him. Proctor repeated his insistence of my desire. The woman kissed down between my tits to my navel. I felt her bare tit against my shoulder. She drew a twisted, crimson rope down my torso to run across my leg and add to the friction. The black man sat back, his cock pulled out halfway, and his pace slowed. I felt her breath above my pubic mound and she laid her cheek there. She let the crimson rope fall against the outside of my labia and wrap around under my butt, moving all of my flesh around my vulva while rasping my skin with the subtle fiber of the rope. The proctor sensed the transition and quickened his pace in my ass. He maintained the pressure around my pelvis and vulva. The black man popped out and I felt the fat shaft of his cock sliding up and down through my labia. I knew that he was pushing his cock into her mouth and she was tasting me. The proctor tried to compensate with his fucking but it would not fill the void. I needed the fat black cock in my cunt.
The black man pushed the head of his cock back in my vagina. I felt the wet, slobbery skin where she had spit all over it. As he rocked slowly back in halfway, the tip of her tongue flicked over my clit. It sent a shiver through my body. The black man pushed deeper and her tongue ran fat down my labia to his cock. He was most of the way in and she sucked on my cunt lips and tapped her tongue on my clit as though he were bumping me. The sensation impeded my will to fight.
Proctor said, "When you were sixteen and you played with your friend, and you girls kissed, you wanted her to lick you."
I whimpered on the cock in my mouth. I tried to articulate that we were young and it was meaningless, almost innocent for two girls to explore a little kiss of friendship.
Proctor said, "You wanted her to lick your cunt. That night you dreamt that she dropped her head between your thighs and licked and sucked your cunt until you orgasmed. Confess it!" As he said this, the black man used his angle to pull in and out the full length of his shaft. He was pulling out more than I wanted because I had this screaming feeling each time he might pull out completely, but the long continuous rub along my vaginal wall was exhilarating. The woman sensed that we were closer and became more fervent with her teething and the lightest glance of tongue dancing over my clit.
Proctor said, "Master is going to let you cum now. Can you feel how he's taking you to the precipice to throw you into the void of darkness?"
Proctor became almost violent in his attack of my anus. I felt the swelling head of his cock pushing along a nerve in my ass and it paralyzed me. The others responded to my convulsions. My Italian stud shoved deeply to the back of my throat. The black man thrust deeper and without pulling out as far. She timed her tongue to his retreats to tease my clit past the edge.
Proctor ordered, "You will submit to the desire" and I could not stop the tears in my eyes. Proctor pushed hard against the nerve, and there was a flood into darkness.
When I came to, I wondered how long I had been out and whether I had fallen asleep or blacked out or totally lost memory. The black man was holding my arm by my face and I was on my side now. He continued to fuck me from this position, sitting on one of my thighs with my other leg draped over his legs. He had no regard whether I was conscious and sought only his own desire. The scissors position allowed him to fuck me deeply, contacting my entire groin and running his testicles over my thigh. I could feel the length of his shaft running up my thigh when he withdrew, as though my pussy continued outside and between my legs. Proctor was no longer in my ass but I felt a flood of fluid in my ass and my pussy and my mouth. I wondered who had cum in parts of my body.
The pillowcase was soft against my cheek and I could turn my face into the pillow and concentrate on the black man fucking me. I was thankful not to suffer the hard rasp of the wood. The black man seemed intent to build his rhythm to orgasm. I wondered if that would be his second time or if it was my own fluid that I felt gushing inside. The pillowcase was wet, either from my saliva or cum that dripped from my mouth. I breathed through the cotton weave, almost evanescent, like the swish of his strokes.
"Uh" I moaned to his thrusts.
As if that were a cue of my consciousness, other bodies surrounded me. Proctor came behind me, pulled the hair back from my face and coaxed me by saying, "You have recovered. We take this sign you are worthy and may accept his seed. You are prepared now."
The woman knelt by my head spread with one knee by my arm and one knee on the pillow at the top of my head. I smelled her sex. I looked up into her crotch as her robe was open, and her naked vulva was before me. The Italian stud scooted up behind her and lifted the back of her robe. His cock thrust between her legs, as if to show me, and then he entered her from behind. His cock was foamy, and it seemed he had cum in her or in my mouth and then fucked her with his creamy cock. Her pussy was not unattractive. She was neatly trimmed, and the dark, fertile pubic hair looked young. Her lips were swollen with delight and meshed firmly around his cock.
Proctor said, "Remember the woman you met at the club, and how you touched provocatively when you danced." He was talking from a distance and not right in my ear. The black man grabbed the back of my neck with his other hand and quickened his pace. His grip was firm, and he massaged my neck at the same time controlling me. My mind separated from my body and I could feel him fucking me but I could not control my limbs.
Proctor stated, "You fantasized about her licking you, too. Not as a dream, but as a volition. Your wanton impulses mixed with the lascivious fondling as you danced." I gave a whimpering wine in protest to his prod. He continued, "And you found her pretty. You liked the short bob of a haircut and she was clean and young. You would have licked her in return if she licked you."
The Italian stud withdrew from the woman and pushed his cock to my lips. I did not open my mouth. His cock that I loved was slimy with cum and with her juice. The black man held my head there. He fucked me hard. I begged him to fuck me harder. As I opened my mouth to moan the Italian stud pressed forward into my mouth. I tasted his salty cum and the tangy juice of her cunt. My convictions fought this assault but I did not stop him.
I acclimated to this new taste of cum and vaginal fluid. The swelling head of his cock on my tongue and within my cheeks, as I remembered laying in the hot sand of the Mediterranean Sea and the smoky flavor of the bonfire, made me want to taste his cum. I wanted him to pump my mouth full of his jism.
He withdrew and pressed his slippery cock against my cheek and nose. I stretched my tongue up to his shaft, to coax his return, but he teased the weight of his cock across parts of my face. As he played this game, she squatted over my forehead and slid back to his cock. Their hands reached together and guided the tip of his cock into her cunt. I licked the base of his cock and his balls as he dodged the tip of his cock within her. I accepted that we could stimulate him together but I avoided touching her.
Proctor commanded, "It is your turn to give." The muscular black man changed his rhythm and held his prick deep within me. His grip on my neck was firm and held my face close to their sex. I cried a bit for what I knew would come to pass. The woman slid further forward and brought the junction of their sex to my mouth. She forced my lips against her labia where his thick cock slid in and out.
Proctor commanded, "You will give to the desire." I pushed my tongue out and let her rock their intercourse against my tongue.
Proctor asked, "Are you ready to receive his seed?"
"Uh-huh," I moaned my consent. I begged, "Fill my body with fire." The dark man sensed my impending orgasm. He quickened his pace. She, too, could sense my motions and breathing and quickened her pulse against my tongue. There was tingling through my arms and legs and a swelling, molten sand about to burst inside me.
She slid off the cock and laid down before my face, holding my mouth to her vulva. My nose brushed her pubic hair and I smelled his musk and their sex.
Proctor commanded me. "You will drink from the well."
I held out my tongue for her to press but she did not rock as before. She pulled my face hard into the crux of her sex and I pushed my tongue in and out, fucking her pussy with the fatness of it. As he banged his cock fully to my cervix and held tightly against my clitoris, she convulsed on my tongue and assisted the frenetic rotation of our kiss. I savored her sweetness and the firm, engorged labia in my teeth as his hot seed flowed into my womb. The spurts were endless and transcended into oblivion.
Daylight was clear when I woke. I was naked in the sheets and the clean, warm cotton caressed my skin. I rolled over and saw Marie lying next to me in her cotton tank top. She sensed my awakening and turned her face to mine.
"Well, you had quite a rest," she whispered.
"How did I get here?" I asked.
"I cleaned up a little for you," Marie shared. "I think I did it although I admit it might have been my imagination. I bathed and dried your skin. And I wiped off your artifact and set them back in their case, as you had directed."
"Thank you," I told her. "I'm totally embarrassed."
Marie gave me a little smile and brushed the hair back from my face, leaving her hand on the side of my head and cradling my ear. She said, "You talked a lot. I didn't know before last night how you felt." She kissed my forehead, brushed my nose, and gave me a gentle peck on the lips. Her lips were a soft pink without lipstick. She seemed to spy for my reaction.
Marie asked, "Is it possible those objects have drugs on them? Something you absorb through your skin or your mouth? After I touched it, my mind floated and all my senses were firing and it was like a light show. I can't remember the details but I'm sure it happened."
"Are you being charitable?" I asked.
Marie said, "No, it was real. My reality may have been different than yours. I couldn't create a report with any certainty. Maybe if we repeated it, the same way, then I would compare for you."
"I need time to recover," I admitted.
"OK," she cooed, "but we should do it soon while it's fresh."
I saw the tender, inquisitive smile from Marie and she did not fault me. And I thought if she was willing, there is no reason to let the rules of others block us from this knowledge. "OK," I told her. "Let's do it again after breakfast."
Amorous Goods: The Sapphic Earrings
A pair of earrings unleash desires but her man's or hers?
Based on a post by ShowTime8. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.
Discovery.
Andrea discovered something she didn't know existed.
A new store.
And it was 'new' only in the sense that she hadn't seen it before. It was an old house just outside town and she spotted it as she drove home from work Thursday afternoon. Luckily her career trajectory in IT allowed her to work from home most days. Today was the exception during Covid, not the rule. She noticed the store, really an old house, for the first time today. She wasn't even sure she saw that house on her drive home from work two weeks ago. Or two weeks before that. Or the other times she came down this stretch of highway. How odd.
The old house, gray and foreboding, would have made a perfect location for a horror movie. It was tucked back from the road, nestled in the tall evergreens that lined the highway.
Andrea pulled in to the small parking lot big enough for only six cars. She maneuvered to a middle spot as macadam crunched under the tires. There was only one other car, a silver Honda, parked in the lot. She looked up at the house, still mildly concerned as to how she didn't notice it before and walked toward the front door. She ascended the sagging steps leading to a veranda wrapping around the house. She stopped a second before her hand touched the doorknob. A small shiver flittered through her. Maybe it was just a residence before the pandemic and only now was it available for shopping. Seriously, how had she not seen this place before? Hell, who knew these days?
She adjusted her mask and walked inside. Door chimes twinkled above. The smell of old books and comfortable furniture from a grandmother's house met her as she stepped over the threshold. It was almost 6:00 pm and night came early to Michigan in late October. Street lights shone through the big picture window facing the street. The store was dim, lit by overhead chandeliers with electric candles in place of lightbulbs. The shelves cast long shadows into nooks and crannies and there seemed to be no order to the curious goods and antiques. Yet everything was clean on the shelves and Andrea was impressed at the dedication to dusting the surfaces.
"Hello," a female voice called out from the back.
"Oh, hi," Andrea replied to the voice.
"The two of us are back here! Call out if you need anything!" The voice sounded young, 20s maybe, whereas Andrea had expected a great-aunt to be working the store. The great-aunt would at least have stories about all the items in the place. She would have lived the history, not just recited it.
Andrea enjoyed looking through the items. She found an old microscope, from what seemed like the early 1900s. She looked at hardware, home goods, decorations, and ran into stacks of books. Many were rotting away or in less-than-perfect shape. Andrea imagined that was what people wanted when they came here: a sense of antiquity.
Here's a book! She selected an old atlas that could fit into a coat pocket. She flipped through it and she could tell it was out of date despite having no education in maps and geo-political current events. She saw countries she hadn't ever heard of. Luke would love it. The price was right too. It was had a $6 sticker on it. Sold.
She held the book, enjoying the musty scent of the aged, yellowed paper, and strolled purposefully to the jewelry. Now she had an excuse to get something for herself. She looked at the baubles and earrings and necklaces and bracelets with interest. She liked colors and sparkles and flashes of gold and silver.
Ah! Here we go!
She held up the sapphire earrings, glinting beautiful blue in the low light.
"Those would look good on you," the young woman said. She was wearing a smock identifying her as an employee and she pushed her glasses up her nose and squinted, "I'm certain from the way you're looking at them that they're not a gift for someone else."
"I like shiny things," Andrea said without apology. The woman not much younger than her, in her mid-20s, laughed and nodded. Shiny silver earrings bounced on her earlobes.
"Oh," said another voice, male, "Sapphires! Muy sexy!"
The woman rolled her eyes at the guy. "That's Dylan and I'm Vikki. We're glad to have you at our place." The guy looked at Andrea with interest.
"Your place? You own it?" Andrea asked, surprised. They seemed a bit young to be business owners.
"It was bequeathed to us," Dylan said with mock formality. He peered at the earrings in Andrea's hand.
"Sapphires," he said, now with a goofy professorial air, "come from the isle of Sapphos. And we all know what kind of women lived there ;�
"No," Vikki corrected him, her fingers massaging her temples. Andrea thought she looked like she was fighting an oncoming migraine and imagined working with Dylan would do that to a person. "Sappho was a Greek poet from the island of Lesbos. "And the name 'sapphire' comes from the French word "Saphir" which derives from a Latin word. It's related to Saturn, not lesbians. And I'll not have you harass the customers!"
Dylan took a necklace off the shelf and twirled it around a finger.
"I don't know," he said while hissing the S sounds like a snake, "Sapphire ; Sapphic ; Sapphos ; sure sounds sexy to me."
An eye roll from Vikki.
"But, if you insist," he said, "I still like my etymology more. No lesbians? I'm out."
He turned and walked away but not before gently placing the necklace back where it came from. Vikki turned with an apology in her eyes and shook her head. She informed Andrea that Dylan came with the place He inherited it and she couldn't very well get rid of him. He was light entertainment for her and he was trying to learn the business, at least when he wasn't being a chowderhead.
"These earrings do have an interesting history, though," Vikki said, "The woman who brought them in many years ago had an arranged marriage. She must not have liked her husband because she misbehaved in every way possible to get him to divorce her. He must have been terrible to her because they finally did divorce and she swore off men forever," she paused, "And maybe Dylan is right. Rumor was, back then, she had any number of lady friends she entertained in her house. Nothing was ever official but she had an awful lot of fun and was known for having loud parties with women in the area. It was quite the scandal at the time!" this last bit was almost whispered.
"Luckily," Vikki continued, straightening up and taking the earrings and the book from Andrea, "We womenfolk are allowed to have a good time without them," and poked her head toward Dylan lurking in the storeroom. "Shall I ring you up?"
Andrea nodded. They walked through the aisles of curiosities and came to an old-timey register that had a "NO Sale" sign on it. Andrea paid, declined a bag or gift-wrapping, and thanked Vikki.
"You'll enjoy them," Nikki said with a knowing smile. Andrea smiled, slightly confused, and found her way out of the odd little shop.
Bar Night
Luke and Andrea sat the tall stools at their two-top. Bars and restaurants were open with limited capacity in the state and Kildare's was their favorite place in town. It was a mix of professors from the university, aging hipsters who flocked to the quirky town, run-down parents escaping their children for a night of freedom, bikers, watchers of sports, and an eclectic mishmash of humanity. The bar didn't define itself as being a hipster bar, a sports bar, a dive bar, or any other type of bar. The crowd was joyfully diverse
And somehow, by God, it worked. Everyone generally got along and the various cliques of life rubbed elbows amicably and with great show of tolerance, even acceptance, for each other.
Andrea loved the old building. Exposed beams ran overhead and original wood floors and walls from the late 1800s tied the bar together. Luke could see his games on the TVs scattered throughout and she could sip her beer and observe the various walks of life.
Things were quieter with Covid but the bar was still popular. Killean, the massive pile of Irish muscles and frowns serving as doorman, took the virus more seriously than he did Catholicism. One was to wear his or her mask while away from his or her table. There were no second chances. He had a short temper and a long memory and those unimpressed by science were motivated by fear of not being invited back. It was all very civilized as Killean cruised the stained creaking wooden floor of the bar hunting for anyone daring to go mask-free while up and about. He nodded politely at Andrea and Luke as he rumbled by their table.
An all-girl band called The Kicks was setting up in the corner. Andrea enjoyed live music and looked forward to hearing something different than the same pop hits over and over on the radio. The band was late-20s, looked lively, and a scattering of applause rippled through the bar while they quickly warmed up.
Andrea turned to Luke.
"I have something for you," she said. Luke laughed. Andrea went shopping, huh?
"I'm sure you got something for me because you first got something for you," he said. Andrea shrugged and owned it. She loved the earrings but hadn't put them on yet. She wanted to surprise him first.
"Not incorrect," she said, "But you'll like this. Here."
She handed the book to him. Delight lit up his eyes as he looked at it. A hurrump of approval escaped his throat as he flipped through the atlas. Andrea thought she was rather clever picking it up. Luke wasn't one for presents but he loved his geography what with being a cartographer for the USGS. He paged through the old book, studying the images and investigating the insets. Andrea took this opportunity to slip the earrings out of her pocket. She unclipped the hooks and ran them through her piercings. She snapped them on.
"So?" she asked him, "How do I look?"
He glanced up and assessed her.
"Those look like heirlooms," he said thoughtfully, "They look intricate. Where'd you get them and should I ask how much?"
She laughed and waved a hand, "Twenty bucks for these and six for your book there," she said, "What a deal!"
"Sounds like a good one," he nodded, "And on that note, we should take advantage of the Harp special going on. I heard they ordered too many kegs and need to drain them. I'll take two pints when the waitress comes over." With that, his head dropped back into the book.
Andrea turned to locate the waitress. She found her and was taken aback.
What was this? Did the waitress change her outfit? Andrea saw her in passing as they picked a table but now she looked ; different. Better. Andrea caught herself staring a bit as the waitress's shirt pulled tightly around her body when she pivoted around a chair. Her tits, unnoticeable before, looked soft, heavy, and perfect.
Andrea shook her head to clear it. Was something in the air? It was getting closer to Halloween and she suspected a full moon tonight. She never internally commented on another woman's body; that wasn't her style. She glanced back. Apparently, she had a change of heart. The waitress had on dark red lipstick and Andrea more than idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those soft warm lips. She could plunge her hands into that thick red hair, rip the twist-tie holding the ponytail, and drag the woman's face to her own.
She felt warm in the face, her stomach, and between her thighs. She looked down and took a shaky breath. Luke hadn't noticed anything. She looked back up. The waitress headed directly toward their table. Andrea was attracted to how lightly she moved and how agile she was. She had never seen the young woman all the other times they came here. She must be a new hire.
Be cool. Be cool.
Andrea ignored Luke's request for a pair for himself and ordered only two beers. She caught herself batting her eyelashes and smiling a little extra, flirting with the waitress, who's nametag introduced her as "Faye." Faye smiled back for an extra heartbeat and turned away. Andrea's eyes slid down her back to her ass and watched her wiggle off.
"Whatchya doing'?"
Shit. Luke caught her.
"Nothing, just impressed she can handle the work load," Andrea said in a failed attempt to answer lightly.
Luke looked around the bar. It was not packed. He looked back at Andrea.
"Is that a blush?" he poked, "Do you have a little crush on our girl?"
"She's not our girl and that's not nice!" Andrea said with more venom then she meant. She was taken aback by her reaction. Luke was too and sobered immediately, the playful grin on his face wiped off by her words.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't know what came over me there." Luke waved it away. He was, if anything, never one to linger on an insult or an argument. He moved on quickly and thanked her for the book. Just then, the band started up in earnest and the opening chords of Stealers Wheel pumped through the bar. Cheers and approval flooded the bar.
"Aren't Joe and Gerry Scottish?" Luke asked, "I wouldn't think Killean would abide. Maybe he's just anti-English."
"Shush!" Andrea hissed at him.
"Since when have you seriously cared about a live music sideshow?" Luke asked, baffled by her reaction.
Andrea didn't answer. She had never cared before. But now she watched the lead singer with interest. The light-haired woman could sing well and move even better. Her husky voice touched Andrea like a live wire.
"Well, I don't know why I came here tonight ; I got a feeling that something ain't right ; "
Wasn't that the truth? The singer's hips swayed, her feet moved effortlessly to the music, and Andrea found herself attracted to her. This was confusing since Andrea had never been aroused by a female body. And now two in one night? She couldn't figure out what had changed.
And her hearing apparently had gone too. Luke was holding her wrist.
"Hey," he said, perplexed, "I was just trying to talk to you! What's wrong?"
Andrea shrugged, warmth kindling inside her. Her gaze flicked from the singer, who was rolling her hips with considerably skill, and turned to face Luke. Her eyes focused over his shoulder. Faye was headed toward them. Faye's tits were magnificent, drawing Andrea's attention.
Is this what it's like to be a man?
Faye came up to their table.
"Would you like another round? Maybe something more potent?" Faye asked, directing her attention at Andrea.
"Two shots of Jamison, please," Andrea said. Luke maintained his composure. Andrea hadn't done a shot of whiskey in front of him before. She often excused herself when a round appeared.
The whiskey arrived shortly after and she knocked back the amber liquid with nary a grimace. Luke followed suit, not even finding time to clink glasses. He looked at her with questions in his eyes.
Andrea felt insatiable. Thoughts swirled in her head and it occurred to her that men stared at women all the time because women were just so goddamn sexy. How could one not? Take the waitress and the singer, their curves and how they moved. They oozed sensuality. They radiated sex. Andrea found herself pleasantly warm despite the chill in the crisp October air pouring in from front doors that constantly banged open and close.
Luke could tell something was in the air as well.
"Okay, you know your eyes change color when you lie and you haven't lied to me in years," he told her, "So fill me in on what's going on."
She paused and thought it over. They had over three years of dating and things were going well. He was right in that they didn't keep many secrets from each other. Neither of them were into secrets to begin with. Whatever was happening to her shouldn't be a deal-breaker and it wasn't like she was doing something wrong. He'd probably be happy to hear about it since he was a guy.
"Our waitress ; " She started. Luke nodded, prompting her. "I wanted to..," she said, "She's so hot," she finished lamely.
Luke, if anything, was a patient and thorough listener. He always gave her time to explain without interruption. He let her finish before asking for clarification. He believed a person knew when they weren't making sense to others and would seek to make themselves understood. It's impolite to interrupt with asking a person what they meant while they were trying to figure it out themselves.
He should have been a therapist.
She tried the next several minutes to explain the change that came over her. She suddenly found women beautiful and sexy and gorgeous and had thoughts about them. Luke laughed while listening.
"It was like that for me too, you know," he added, "One day it was baseball and trucks and mud and then Bam! Girls."
"It's not like that, though," Andrea said, slapping at his arm.
"You just told me it was exactly like that," he countered. She couldn't argue.
He slid his chair closer to her and put his warm hand on her thigh. He rubbed her leg under the denim and her feet moved wider apart. He took that as a good sign and moved his palm up her leg.
"At least you're still interested in men," he said with a grin. She nodded and turned back to watch the singer dance. She wasn't into PDA but she didn't stop him when his touch moved between her legs.
"Keep doing that," she breathed. His fingers knew her body and he circled over her sensitive spot. Just then a waitress rounded the table with empty mugs on a tray. Andrea clapped her legs together before the waitress could see what Luke was doing. The waitress glided by and Andrea drank in the sight of her.
"I wanted to touch that one," she said, watching the waitress, a dark-haired beauty, head toward the batwings to the kitchen.
"I have an idea," Luke said, "Let's go." He threw some money on the table, more than enough for a tip, tucked his atlas into his coat pocket, and led Andrea out the door
After Hours
Two blocks down 4th Street, Andrea and Luke descended the stairs off the street to a muted green door. They pulled it open and went in to what could only be described as an antechamber. Two small backless love seats sat on the marble floor. A heater hummed loudly, the only sound in small room. A doorman stood ready to check their IDs in front of the brass doors leading in.
He held an arm out, his face covered by a beaked plague mask, worn by physicians in the 17th century. It added to the surreal environment. He granted passage through the doorway into the club.
"You know, as hard as they're trying, you'd think they would come up with a better name than Big Red One," Luke observed.
The bar, Big Red One, was classy in a way that made drinkers wonder if it was trying to take itself seriously or if it was enjoying a joke at its own expense. Tasteful nude art, black and white and strictly female forms, graced the walls. The drinks were expensive and each took the bartenders no fewer than two minutes to concoct, beer from the taps included. Low chairs, oddly-shaped tables, and high-end decorations populated the floor. Neither Luke nor Andrea had been here before.
People, well-dressed and faking one night of high society, casually draped themselves over the knee-high couches.
The weather has cool but most of the women were in beautiful shimmering dresses. The men wore jackets or fancier and Andrea was mildly surprised they were allowed in even though she was wearing her 'good jeans.'
No TVs or cover bands played here. Big Red One classed it up. A real piano with a real musician plinked away in a corner.
The two found an open table shaped like a kidney bean tucked in another corner and devised a seating arrangement. Moments later, a waiter arrived to take their order. Andrea ordered a martini with lychee (whatever that was) and Luke stuck with Peroni in a bottle. It would run them over $25. The waiter whisked the menu out of Andrea's hand and turned on a heel to report their drink order.
"Well," Andrea started to say. She was cut off but two people arriving at their table.
"May we sit?" asked the tall man. He had dark hair and wore a sports coat over a pastel blue shirt.
"By all means," Luke said, standing for the lady. She smiled and took the seat pulled out by the man. This put her next to Andrea
"I like your earrings," the woman said as she sat next to Andrea. She looked Korean and wore a shimmering blue dress with plunging neckline. It displayed a narrow strip of pale skin almost to her navel. She was whipcord thin with petite tits and no cleavage and she didn't need any. Andrea thought she looked really good.
"I love your dress, it's beautiful. It shows your body nicely," Andrea said and clapped her hand over her mouth. She'd never say something like that before. Red curled up from her neck to her cheeks.
The waiter came over with four drinks on his tray. He set them down, each drink correctly in front of its drinker, and stood back politely.
"Here you are, good sir," the tall man said, handing over folded money, "And I'm Brian, by the way. This is Lacy," he said to Andrea and Luke. Introductions went around the table with smiles and nods. Luke made a show of thanking Brian for their drinks.
The Asian woman, Lacy, smiled and fluttered her fingers, mostly at Andrea.
"I like those earrings," Lacy said to Andrea, "They're beautiful and intricate. And look, they basically match my dress! May I look closer?"
Andrea nodded.
Lacy leaned over, closing the gap between them and intimately invaded Andrea's personal space. Andrea picked up the smell jasmine and vanilla and her ear tickled lightly from Lacy's examination of her earring. Lacy's fingers were warm on her ear and a shiver ran down her spine as Lacy exhaled lightly.
"Your hair smells really good, too," Lacy breathed, too quietly for either man to hear. Andrea's eyes flicked over to Luke who was rapt watching the scene unfold. Lacy's fingers went from barely touching Andrea's ear to stroke her hair. She ran her fingers along it, then through it, combing it out. Andrea responded instantly. This was one of her favorite things and the woman seemed to know how she'd like it. She sighed, feeling warmth spread over her body at the light touch of another woman. Overcome, she turned, not caring anymore, and found Lacy's mouth with her own.
Kissing a woman is not like kissing a man, Andrea discovered.
Lacy's mouth was soft and supple. Her face didn't have the itchy stubble Luke often had when he skipped shaving. Her tongue met Andrea's and they danced together, teasing, caressing, and stroking. They both gave and took as they needed.
Eyes closed, Andrea felt Lacy's fingers close around her wrist and guide her hand toward the blue (sapphire?) dress and the body underneath. Lacy slid her hand under the soft blue material and Andrea's palm grazed the nipple of another woman for the first time. She felt it pebble and harden under her stroke and her fingers delighted over it, lightly pinching, grazing it with her fingertips. Lacy's back arched, pushing her body into Andrea's palm. She reached with her other hand grabbed a fistful Andrea's hair and pulled her deeper into the kiss. Andrea sighed with pleasure.
They broke apart at last. Andrea was shocked she had done such a thing. She was soaking wet, though, and insanely turned on. Lacy, too, looked a bit dazed, her eyes reacting like she was surprised at herself. Andrea's hand was still under Lacy's dress, teasing and pleasing the sensitive skin. She took her hand back and reached for her drink. The glass shook as she brought it to her mouth.
Both men were all smiles.
"You guys look like assholes," Lacy said, glancing over at them, "You two are pleased as punch. Creeps!"
"What creeps?" Brian asked, laughing, "That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen!" Luke was nodding in agreement, his gaze fully focused on Andrea's face, searching for her reaction.
"I've never done anything like that before," Lacy said under her breath, "I liked it."
"Should we do it again?" Andrea asked, both baffled and driven by her desire.
Lacy didn't answer. She turned toward Andrea again, took Andrea's face in her hands, and kissed her deeply. Andrea let herself get lost in the kiss, sensation overwhelming her. Head radiated from between her legs and her hands roamed freely over Lacy's body. She only pulled herself away when she found a hand stroking Lacy's underwear between her legs. Andrea looked down, found herself rubbing Lacy's inner thighs. Lacy's legs were spread to allow more access and Andrea simply helped herself. Her hand found Lacy's underwear.
Am I'm actually doing this? Andrea thought to herself just as Lacy started making light whimpering noises. Andrea committed and kept stroking, circling Lacy's clit, building her up to climax. Lacy's whole body went taut and she murmured something in Korean and sighed. Her whole body relaxed in the seat. Andrea peeked around the room. No one had noticed what happened except their boyfriends. Both were grinning from ear to ear.
"So, switch?" Brian asked Lacy after she recovered. Her head rolled on her shoulders and she was grinning from ear to ear. Andrea took some pride in how easily she could get another woman off and she scored herself a silent "1" for giving Lacy her first lady-gasm.
"It is your turn," Lacy said, still catching her breath.
"Thanks, but we'll pass," Luke said, standing up, "It's Our turn."
"But wait," Andrea said as he hauled her up.
"Thanks for the drinks," he said over his shoulder to Brian, "Great time had by all!" He moved quickly toward the door, dragging Andrea along with him. They barely got up the stairs before he pulled her into an alley. Their breath clouded in steam around them in the cold air as he turned her away from him and pushed her up against a wall. Andrea, needing to fuck, undid the jeans and pulled them halfway down her thighs. She heard Luke pull his zipper down and work his own pants down over his hips. He forced himself against her into the brick wall of the alley. She bend forward, offering access and his hard cock slid easily into her pussy. She was dripping wet after the whole night. One hand braced her against the building and the other pushed on her clit. Luke's hips pumped, thrusting his cock deep into her. He cried out from the wet warmth and fucked her, driving her harder into the wall.
It didn't take long. Andrea felt her orgasm building and ripping through her body, exploding in a ball of ecstasy that radiated through every nerve and fiber of her body. Her whole body went rigid, then released as she came, gasping for breath and fighting to stay upright. She cried out as the waves of pleasure rippled through her.
Luke followed suit, grunting and cursing as he pumped faster and drove his cock as far as he could into her. He came hard, unloading into her, gripping her forearm with his hand, leaving red marks where his fingers dug into her skin. He pumped his load into her until he was empty, spent, and sighed, putting his weight on her shoulders.
Andrea gave it a moment then tapped his hand. Luke nodded, they were in public after all, and pulled out of her. He fixed his pants and she mentally noted bringing a towel in her purse the next time they went out.
They put themselves to rights and went to truck. Neither needed to say a word and his hand rested comfortably on her thigh as they drove home.
I Did What?
Andrea usually had good orgasms but this one had been amazing. She was looking at herself in the mirror of the bathroom, cleaning up and getting ready for bed. She smiled lazily, thought about how much fun they had and wondered what other adventures would being coming.
She took the sapphire earrings off.
It came rushing back to her; a flood of images filled her head.
What the fuck? What. The. Fuck!
She kissed a woman? She groped a woman?? She Masturbated a woman To Orgasm?
The happiness drained out of her body and shame flooded in. She slid to the bathroom floor. Lying on the tile, shocked, she couldn't reconcile with what happened. She vaguely remembered finding the other women attractive but that was long gone. She pictured the waitress and the band member. They were just women. She picked Lacy. Cute enough, whatever, but a female. None of them were sexy. How could she have thought that? What the fuck did Luke slip her to drink?
But, no, she hadn't had anything before those ; thoughts ; entered her head. Did this mean she was a lesbian or something?
Lesbian? Lesbos? Wait ; Something that guy said at the store earlier caught her attention.
She sat up and looked at the earrings. She squinted at them, harmlessly lying on the marble countertop. She poked one, then the other, with a pair of tweezers. No magic powers here. She didn't dare put them back on again. She left them were they were, not throwing them out nor putting them in her jewelry box.
Goddamn shame, she thought with unusual anger as she stared at them, trying to unlock their secret. They were very beautiful.
She stared at them for a long time..
Returned Goods?
The chimes jangled as Andrea pushed the door open and marched directly to the counter in the back. Vikki and Dylan were in the office behind the desk, going over the books. Vikki wore her glasses on the tip of her nose and peeked above the rims at Vikki, heading straight at her.
Andrea tried not to slam the earrings on the polished wooden counter. She glared at the two employees as she set them down. The beautiful blue sparkled as the earrings picked up the low light in the store.
"Ah," Dylan said, "You wore them. Did you have fun?"
"I wore them, yes," Andrea spoke directly to Vikki, ignoring Dylan's stupid grin, "And I have to ask: Did you know?"
"Are you returning them or just asking the question?" Vikki returned politely, leaning forward.
"Hey," Dylan interrupted, "Here's an idea! Put them on and let's see what happens here!"
Vikki turned and fixed a glare that would have rattled even the hardiest customer service representatives. Dylan had no chance. He retreated to the office.
She turned back to see Andrea stalking out of the store, obviously angry with them. Vikki looked on the counter for the earrings, fully prepared to refund the purchase. They weren't on the counter. She leaned over to peek on the ground. Not there either. She walked around the counter to the jewelry area and searched high and low. Nothing. Smiling to herself, Vikki went back to finish the books.
"You know," she called out to Dylan, "None of this stuff works on me anyway, right?"
Just outside, Andrea climbed into her car and turned the key. She smiled to herself as the engine roared to life. The earrings were safely tucked away in her pocket. She'd hold on to them just in case. After all, Valentine's Day was coming up, and then Luke's birthday. Wouldn't Luke like those surprises?
Amorous Goods: I Want You.
Randy�s new guitar has a strange effect on his wife.
Based on a post by ShowTime8. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.
I saw the guitar in the window and something drew me to it. I've walked down Main Street in our town a hundred times and I'd never noticed the store before, so I went in to check it out.
There were all sorts of trinkets and old used goods laying around, but that guitar called to me.
There wasn't anything special about it, it was old, clearly used, and looked like it's best days were long past.
"Hi," said the shopkeeper. "Go ahead and check it out."
"Thanks," I said as I took the guitar off of its stand. "Can you tell me anything about it?"
"Not really," She answered. "As you can see it's old, and the name has long worn off of it so I can't even tell you what brand it is."
I strummed the strings and was surprised that it was in tune. I played around with it, and I knew that I had to have it. The tone was so deep and rich. The nylon strings sounded new and sound hole picked up every nuance from their vibration.
"How much do you want for it?"
"$200"
I didn't balk at the price. Knowing guitars as I do, it sounded amazing and was a bargain at that price.
"Sold," I said handing her my credit card.
"There's a case for it in the back. Let me grab it for you."
I played it some more, while she was gone and when she came back she said, "You play beautifully. It's like it was made for your hands."
"Thank you. It's really playable. Say, how long have you been here? I've never noticed your shop before today."
"A couple of weeks. I inherited all of this stuff and I have nowhere to keep it all. Being a shop owner isn't exactly what I want to do with my life, but it is what it is."
"Well, thank you, and good luck."
When I got home, my wife saw what I bought and shook her head. "Not another guitar, Randy."
"It was a steal, Dee. I couldn't pass it up."
"Yeah, yeah. Dinner will be ready in an hour."
I kissed her cheek and went to my den, or as I call it my music room. She's never been happy with my collection of guitars. She thinks it's a waste of money to have more than one, but I've only got ten.
I sat on my stool and started playing it. I don't know what caused me to play it, but I played the devil's triad. It was used as the riff in the song "Black Sabbath," by Black Sabbath. It sounded incredible.
Out of nowhere, my wife walked into the room and started taking off her clothes. "I want you, now!" She demanded. Who was I to turn her down?
She dragged me to the bedroom and roughly stripped off my clothes. Once I was naked she pushed me onto the bed and straddled my hips.
She wasted no time lowering herself onto my hard shaft and rode me like a banshee. Her eyes were rolled back as she bucked and slammed down onto me.
"Yes! Yes! She screamed as her body tensed from her orgasm. The moment it ended, she climbed off of me and walked out of the room.
"What the fuck?" I said to myself. "Hey, I didn't cum, I shouted out to her. Hearing no response, I walked out of the room, my hard cock leading the way.
She was dressed and in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove.
"Hey!" I said. "Forget something?"
She looked at me like I had two heads and said, "Quit playing around, Randy. Dinner will be ready soon."
"Playing around? You left me high and dry. Aren't you gonna finish the job?"
"Go get dressed," she said. "If I'm in the mood later, we can go to bed early."
What in the fuck was she playing at? I left the kitchen annoyed, got dressed, and went back to playing with my new purchase.
I was running some chords and scales and playing flamenco style when I had the urge to play the devil's triad again. G, then D, finished with D flat.
It was mere seconds when she burst into the room again. Her eyes were glazed over and looked black instead of their usual blue. "I want you, now!" She demanded again. I barely had a chance to set the guitar down, before she dragged me into the bedroom again.
Well, I certainly was going to finish that time, so I didn't let her ride me. I rolled her over and took her doggie style. Slamming into her for a few minutes, I felt her squeeze my cock. Knowing she was close, I doubled my efforts. I pounded into her hard and fast and was able to shoot my load as she had her own orgasm.
She wiggled out from underneath me and walked out of the room again, without saying a word.
"Jesus, that's fucking strange," I thought as I dressed. I wondered what was happening, so I went back into the kitchen. She was on the phone like nothing happened as she talked and stirred the chili.
She ended the call and said, "Randy, my mom is gonna stop by for dinner. You know how she loves my chili. I hope that's okay."
"Uh, yeah sure," I said, still lost as to what the fuck was happening to my wife.
Nothing strange happened before her mom showed up and then we had a nice dinner.
They got into talking about whatever mothers and daughters talk about and I excused myself to play with my guitar again.
I noodled around for a bit and then had the compulsion to play the devil's triad again. I played the notes and within seconds, both my wife and my mother-in-law burst into the room, both shedding clothes. In unison, they both said, "I want you, now!"
Oh, fuck!
To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods; a collaborative storyline for Literotica