Baby's Back

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Baby’s Back - The Best in Fetish Erotica Volume 1 Copyright © 2004 Ann Vremont ISBN: 1-55410-186-7 Cover art by Jane Sommers Cover design by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.Extasybooks.com

Baby’s Back - The Best in Fetish Erotica Volume 1

~~~Featuring~~~ Magenta Trailer Park M.D. Behind the 8 Ball Pleasure Cube Backstage Pass Ice Princess Backshore

Dedication: To author Lora Leigh, whose bold writing has encouraged me to climb ever higher up the heat index. ☺

Ann Vremont

Magenta

V

alerie Quim glanced up from the cash register, her reporter’s mind quickly memorizing every detail of the newest client of Belinda Lee’s sex parlor. “What’ll it be?” she asked, trying to mimic the disaffected drawl of the women she had spent the morning interviewing. The man’s gaze raked her petite body, lingering over her full breasts before dropping straight to the feminine flare of her hips. “How about you and a trip around the world?” he suggested and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Belinda was in the corner processing credit card payments and she stood up, wagging a crimsontipped fingernail at the man. “No health certificate,” Belinda told him. “You can book a flight with her next week.” The man frowned but didn’t protest. “I’ll get you Salome,” Belinda offered. “They’re twins, these two.” Valerie bit back a laugh. Salome was black and weighed about twenty pounds more, giving her heavier breasts and a rounder bottom. Valerie had 1

Baby's Back last seen the woman entering a room with a paddle in hand and wearing a white blouse, plaid skirt and knee high white socks that disappeared into patent leather shoes. With Salome’s stories alone, Valerie already had enough material to fill two newspaper features. The man handed Valerie his card and she rang up his request for a blowjob, straight fuck, and ass fuck. When the transaction cleared, she walked him back to a room and put a blue order ticket in the bin next to the door. The whole thing, from the tables to the notification system, reminded her of visiting her doctor. When Valerie returned to the reception area, Belinda was just hanging up the phone. She turned to Valerie. “You wanted to interview a customer, right?” Valerie nodded. “Well, I got one for you.” Valerie picked up her notepad and pen and waited while Belinda finished generating an order ticket. “What’s that for?” she asked, as Belinda took her by the elbow and steered her down the hall. “Patience, cricket,” Belinda answered. They still called Valerie 'cub' at the paper, and Belinda’s use of 'cricket' irritated her. Her cheeks were flushed red as Belinda opened the door to a room, shoved the ticket in Valerie’s hand, propelled Valerie inside and shut the door. Valerie would have screamed had she not known the smug bastard sitting on the table and wearing the damn smirk she itched to scratch off his face most mornings. “Damn it, Craig,” she hissed. “If you’re here to check up on me…I swear, I’m going to punch you.” 2

Ann Vremont “Cool down, cub,” he said, the smirk widening into a predatory smile. His gaze dropped to the order ticket. “I’m here to make sure you write the best story you possibly can.” “I certainly don’t need your help to write my story.” Her voice began shaking halfway through her protest as she realized he was wearing one of the black robes used by both clients and staff. Her gaze jumped to the side counter where his pants and jacket were neatly folded alongside a condom wrapper and bottle of an almond-flavored lubricant. “This is some joke,” she said. Her breathing had become erratic, heavier, and she tried to control it. “Not a joke,” he said. “A game. Like freshman year of journalism school. You remember?” Valerie nodded and he continued. “Twenty Four Questions, Confidence Up/Confidence Down?” She nodded again and he smiled. “Well, I like to call this one Magenta.” Valerie repeated the game’s name and looked at the order ticket--$375.00 without any description of the acts to be performed. She tried to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat but it only swelled in size. “Don’t you want to play, cub?” he teased. Valerie hated it when he used that voice. She generally did whatever he wanted then before her nails came out or her knees went weak. “Stop calling me cub,” she bit out. Craig stood and took the ticket from her and pulled her robe open to reveal the black lace bra and panties she had picked out that morning to get a feel for the 3

Baby's Back environment. He gave an appreciative growl and explained the rules of the game. “It’s very simple, when you want to stop, you say ‘Magenta.’ And I’ll stop calling you cub when you stop holding back and write the story I know you’re capable of.” Valerie nodded her understanding. Craig grabbed her and turned her until her stomach was pressed flat against the table. He unhooked her bra, fondling her pebbled nipples while he kissed the back of her shoulder. Slipping a hand across her stomach, he pushed against the center of her back with his other hand until she was leaning over the table, ass pushed high in the air. “Nice,” Craig murmured and dropped to his knees. Reaching behind him, he took the almond lube and condom from the counter and placed them on the small of Valerie’s back. Then he pulled her panties off, kissing his way across her ass and down her thighs as the fabric slipped from her body. He pushed against the inside of her knees. “Spread your legs, cub.” She did as he ordered, a surprised gasp escaping her as the room’s air brushed against her wet inner lips, cooling the fire that Craig was slowly stoking. He put his thumb against the opening to Valerie’s pussy, covering it in a thin layer of her juices. Then he rubbed it against her clit. He took the bottle of lubricant and squirted it into her pussy, his tongue following the slick liquid, tasting the mix of her cream and the almond flavoring. Valerie gripped the edge of the table and rocked against his mouth, moaning. “Mmm.” “Mmm…Magenta?” he teased before swiping his 4

Ann Vremont tongue along the smooth skin of her perineum. His finger stroked her clit while his thumb thrust in and out of her pussy. “No,” Valerie gasped. “More.” “My pleasure, cub.” Craig took the bottle and shot a stream against her tailbone. The liquid dripped down the crack of her ass to where he now had three fingers buried deep inside her tightening cunt. He started with his tongue at the opening of her pussy, laving the perineum and circling the rosy ring of her anus. He felt her tense and he pulled back. “Magenta?” She gave a vigorous shake of her head and milked his fingers with her pussy. He swirled his tongue around the little red rose, dipping into it. Reaching onto her back, he took the condom wrapper, quickly standing to sheathe his cock. He positioned his cock against the opening to Valerie’s now empty pussy, tormenting her with its thick, flared cap. She moaned, squirming against Craig, encouraging him to enter her. He spread her ass cheeks and squirted the lubricant down her tight little hole, his thumbs working its exterior, massaging the round globes of her ass as he pushed the head of his cock into her pussy. He slipped his thumb into her ass and she pushed against him, burying his cock in her. “Shhh…” Craig said and wiggled his thumb inside her. “You’re the cub here, remember?” “Yes.” The word escaped in a hot moan. He pulled his cock from her pussy and pressed the tip against the opening to her ass. The rosy hole puckered and he massaged it with his thumbs, 5

Baby's Back forcing it to accept the head of his cock. “Breathe it in, baby, breathe my cock into you.” Valerie slowed her breathing, her body straining around the invading tip. Her pussy contracted around its emptiness. He entered her ass another inch and she moaned, her cunt contracting again. “Relax,” Craig ordered. Valerie complied and he buried his dick the rest of the way in her in one solid thrust. She clamped down on him, her body threatening to explode in orgasm. “Shhhh…” he cooed. “Relax again.” She relaxed and he pulled back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside her ass. “That’s good, baby,” Craig moaned. “That’s what I paid for. To fuck this tight little ass of yours.” Words deserting her for the first time in her life, Valerie squirmed against the tip of his cock, making soft mewling sounds as she hovered at the brink of orgasm. “Just contract and relax, baby,” Craig said. “Okay?” She nodded, her knuckles white from the death grip she had on the table’s edge. His hands left her plump ass cheeks and centered around her waist, kneading the tense muscles of her lower back. His grip tightened and he thrust into her. Pussy and ass contracted and she released a visceral scream of pleasure, her pussy flooding with the cream of her excitement. She relaxed and he pulled out to the tip, then thrust again. “Again!” she screamed and contracted against him, her thigh and ass muscles trembling as she tried to 6

Ann Vremont retain some semblance of self-control. “Again!” Craig began to thrust and withdraw more quickly, Valerie’s body bouncing along the tabletop, her hips smacking against its edge as she pushed and pulled with him, her body wildly bucking in orgasm. Craig’s cock swelled inside her, his orgasm rumbling through his expanding shaft, massaging the walls of her canal as it rippled through him. He collapsed on top of her, his breathing ragged. Nuzzling her, he kissed the curve where neck met shoulder, his hands running along the sides of her trembling body. When he finally eased off her body and covered her with the robe, Valerie turned and offered him a lazy smile. She stepped up to him, her full breasts pressing against his chest. She curled her arms around his neck, her gaze still heated, ready for more. “What are you doing after work?” she asked, sucking her lips in to wet them. He felt his cock swelling, anticipating the sweet taste of her pussy and rosy ass. His first taste had only increased his appetite for her. “No plan,” he said casually. “Why?” She pressed her stomach against his renewed erection and whispered her answer across his lips. “Because I never said Magenta.”

7

Baby's Back

Trailer Park M.D.

H

earing a car pull onto the gravel drive in front of his double-wide trailer, Ronnie Stover put down the magazine he was reading and pushed the lace curtains to one side. The car was a brown sedan nearing its first full decade of use. The garbage can alongside the drive obscured part of his view but he didn’t need to see the door panel to know it was a county car. His gaze flicked to the driver. She was a bleached blonde, her hair piled high in a knot on the top of her head. Her attention was focused on a clipboard, her mouth pinched tight with disapproval. Ronnie moved to the screen door to get a better view of the woman’s face. Her head jerked up and she caught him watching her. He was still too far to see her face well, but he could imagine the angry flare of her nostrils as she tossed the clipboard and driving glasses on the front seat. She stepped from the car, a pained expression pinching her features even tighter as she straightened. Ronnie pushed the screen door open, his gaze playing over the woman’s curvy, compact body 8

Ann Vremont tightly wrapped in dark navy clothing from top to bottom. The shoes were sensible two-inch pumps, but the skirt fell mid-calf, constricting her gait to a sassy, hip-swaying tease. The starched, long-sleeve blouse opened to a deep V. “You’re too pretty to be a social worker,” he said in his best Georgian drawl. His gaze traveled up to her face, his heart skipping a beat when he looked into her sky blue eyes. “Mr. Stover?” she asked and flicked an ID wallet open in front of him. Amanda Graham, Lumpkin County Prosecutor’s Office. Ronnie took a step back and gently pushed the ID away from his face. “You’re with the county prosecutor?” He gave her body another look, lingering at her curvy hips. “You don’t look like a lawyer to me.” His hand played over his chest as he spoke. “I’m an investigator,” she answered. “We’ve had complaints about an …” she paused, her cheeks flushing a soft pink, “…an illegal home business.” Ronnie’s gaze flicked to the trailer next to his. Old lady Cobb was peeking from behind a tattered curtain. His mouth curved in a smile as he remembered how Mrs. Cobb had threatened to report him after her thirty-five-year-old daughter, fresh from a divorce, had purchased a special toy from him. “Mr. Stover.” Her voice was sharp with irritation, the blue eyes darkening when his attention returned to her. She had one hand pressed to the small of her back and she turned her head to the side, a small cracking sound relieving the pressure that had built in 9

Baby's Back her expression. “Are you operating a business from your home?” “I sell medical supplies,” he answered, his gaze returning to Mrs. Cobb’s window. He stepped back into his trailer, holding the screen door open for Amanda. “Why don’t we talk about this inside?” He caught the scent of her perfume as she passed him. It was a heavy mix of vanilla and cinnamon. The muscles of his stomach and those at the base of his cock contracted in unison, both hungry for a taste of the petite blonde. Before he closed the screen door, he discreetly extended his middle finger in Mrs. Cobb’s direction. Seeing her curtains flutter closed, he smiled and turned to Amanda. “Sit down, please,” he said and gestured to the vinyl couch along one wall. She sat down in slow stages, the pained expression resurfacing on her face. Grabbing a chair from the dinette set, he sat down opposite her. “So, what do you want to know?” She took a notepad from her handbag. “You said you sold medical supplies?” He nodded, a sly smile curving his full lips. “What is the nature of these…supplies?” “Hmm?” The smile widened. “I’m afraid I don’t get you, Miss Graham … it is Miss, isn’t it?” Tapping her pen on the notepad, she ignored his question. “What medical conditions are the supplies used for?” she asked. “Diabetes…emphysema… what?” “Oh, well,” he paused. She was leaning forward, the white lace of her bra exposed and distracting him. “More like stress relief, muscle relaxation.” He 10

Ann Vremont glanced at her midsection and shifted his chair closer to her. “Back pain, too.” She drew back and closed her notepad with a snap. “Mr. Stover, you’re going to have to show me your supplies.” “Oh, I don’t have to, Miss Graham,” he answered. “Not without a warrant. Don’t think those baby blue eyes of yours are gonna make me forget my rights.” Her cheeks flushed but Ronnie couldn’t tell if it was in anger or something else. He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, studying her. “But I will show you, if you really want to see them, Miss Graham.” She flushed a darker shade of red. “If you’re waiting for me to say pretty please or something, Mr. Stover, this isn’t going to go well for you.” “Don’t get in a tizzy, Miss Graham,” he said. A speculative softness coated his words and she glanced away. Ronnie stood, doing nothing to hide the press of his erection against his blue jeans, and went down the hall. He returned a few minutes later with a thick, black briefcase. He opened the case and smiled as he heard her sharp intake of breath. “Those are not medical supplies, Mr. Stover!” Her voice was near hysterical and he raised a hand, trying to calm her. “Now, Miss Graham, hear me out,” he said. “You wouldn’t want to prosecute an innocent man, would you?” “I told you, I’m an investigator,” she reminded him. She kept her gaze fixed on the contents of the briefcase, her blue eyes wide. “I merely report my 11

Baby's Back findings.” Ronnie pulled a nine-inch latex covered vibrator from the briefcase. The latex was only semi-soft and had the impression of veins running through it. He felt a small, exultant swelling as she tracked the dildo’s movement, her lips parting. It was the same expression Mrs. Cobb’s daughter had displayed upon seeing the toy. Ronnie thumbed the small switch at the base of the dildo, setting off a heavy vibration. He reached out, trapping Amanda’s hand, and placed the thick toy in her palm. Instead of refusing it, her fingers curled around the object. “Mr. Stover, these items are illegal…” her voice trailed off as he pulled a small black jelly plug from the briefcase. “How can something that helps people be illegal, Miss Graham?” Ronnie asked. He was on his knees in front of her, one hand tracing the curve of her calf. His hand under her skirt, he reached the bend of her knee and felt the shift of her body as her legs opened to him in a slight part. “You’re going to get me fired, Mr. Stover.” She was breathing heavy, her words thick with arousal. And, when Ronnie reached up, cupping the back of her head and pulling her to him for a kiss, she didn’t resist. “Not if there isn’t anything for you to report, Amanda,” he said, teasing her bottom lip. “And call me Ronnie.” Ronnie pulled the knot of hair at the top of her head loose, her hair cascading around her shoulders 12

Ann Vremont in blonde waves. He tossed the hair holder on the end table and began unbuttoning her blouse. The white lace bra she wore had a front closure and he unsnapped it, bending his head to gently take her nipple into his mouth. He pushed the blouse and bra off her shoulders before cupping her breasts, his mouth moving hungrily over her hot flesh, sucking at her nipples until they beaded to hard pink tips. “Stand up, Amanda,” he ordered. When she obeyed, he reached behind her and pulled the zipper on her skirt down. He stripped her slowly, removing first the skirt, and then the pantyhose, until she was standing in front of him in her white lace panties. He slipped his fingers beneath the lace, testing her arousal. She moaned, widening her stance to his probing fingers. Backing up, he told her to turn around and remove her panties. “Slowly,” he cautioned. He unbuttoned his jeans, his hand leisurely stroking his cock as Amanda pulled the panties over her hips and past the curve of her ample bottom. She bent at the waist when she reached her knees and he let out a rough groan, one hand reaching out to caress her ass. “Slower.” He reached between her cheeks, his hand forming a 'c'. His fingers pushed against the entrance to her pussy while the pad of his thumb played across the tight pink opening above. She stepped out of her panties and spread her legs wider, her open palms resting on the couch for support. “Haul that beautiful ass down here, Amanda,” he suggested and pushed the small coffee table out of the 13

Baby's Back way. She started to sit but he stopped her. “Hands and knees, baby,” he said. “Doctor Ronnie’s going to give you a special treatment.” Amanda was shaking as she got on her hands and knees, her ass facing him. He rubbed his palms over her rounded cheeks and then massaged the small of her back until he felt her begin to relax. He stuck two fingers in her cunt, slowly fucking her that way until her inhibitions fell away and she was pumping against him. “That’s it, baby girl, just relax,” he coaxed. Reaching into the briefcase, he pulled a tube of Astroglide™ from it and applied a light coating to the latex dildo. With the motor off, he began fucking her pussy with the toy, a slow torturous in and out that had her moaning for release. “You like that, baby girl?” he asked and pushed the dildo all the way into her. When she moaned her approval, he switched the motor on. “Then you’re really gonna love this,” he said and applied a heavier coating of Astroglide™ to the black jelly plug. Slowly, he worked the plug into her ass. With it fully inside her, he put the pad of his thumb against its base and wiggled it while he began to slowly fuck her with the dildo once more. “Yes,” she panted, straining against him, her body hot to the touch as she moaned and squirmed. Her fingers knotted in the plush carpet and she pressed against him. “More, fuck me more,” she pleaded. Ronnie buried the dildo deep inside her cunt again and wiggled the jelly plug while he lubricated his erection. “Yes, baby girl,” he promised. “I’m going to 14

Ann Vremont fuck you some more. You want Doctor Ronnie’s extra-special treatment?” Her assent was a mindless moan, her ass contracting wildly around the plug as he teased it from her. Grabbing a cheek in each hand, Ronnie spread the opening to her ass and pressed the tip of his cock against it. He slid into her slowly, savoring her tightness and the electric hum of the dildo inside her cunt. He could feel its vibration against his balls and pressed closer to her, his cock embedded in her ass. “You got a perfect little hole, baby girl,” he murmured, drawing his cock out to plunge it into her. His balls slapped against her ass and he could feel her muscles contract as she hovered on the edge of ecstasy. He withdrew and thrust again, his hand on her hip, guiding her ass over his cock in rhythmic bursts. He felt his own muscles contract as his orgasm built. “I’m gonna cum inside you, Amanda,” he warned, pumping her ass in a final frenzy. “A thick stream of pleasure that’s gonna run from your ass like pearls.” Lost in her own orgasm, she didn’t answer him. Her ass squeezed the cum from his cock as her pussy fluttered around the vibrator. She lost control of her arms and legs and he had to hold her to him while the last of his climax pulsed through his cock, filling her with his seed. Finished, Ronnie gently let her fold to the floor. He pulled the vibrator from her pussy and wiped the Astroglide™ from his cock before collapsing next to her, his hand reaching under her arm to cup her 15

Baby's Back breast. Content, he closed his eyes and listened to her soft breathing. Stroking her nipple, he smiled when she jerked against him in pleasure. In the kitchen, the phone rang and Amanda gave a disgruntled snort. She started to sit up but Ronnie pulled her tight to him. “Ignore it,” he said and pressed his mouth to her neck in a kiss. “It’s probably your mama,” Amanda protested but relaxed against him. “Wanting us to pick the kids up early.” “We’ll tell her we didn’t hear the phone,” he suggested. “We were doing yard work.” “We don’t have a yard,” she laughed. Ronnie rolled her over, spreading her legs until the light brown patch of pubic hair was open to his questing mouth. He dipped his head, teasing his wife’s clit and she moaned, her hands finding his hair and pressing him closer. He glanced up at her, saw the sultry curve of her smile inviting him to take another lick. “Well,” she agreed and raised her hips to meet his tongue. “I guess it wouldn’t be a lie if we tell her you were mowing the grass.”

16

Ann Vremont

Behind the 8 Ball Hardwick pulled his silver Lincoln Navigator in Josh front of the discreet, single-story building. There was no sign on the building and the windows were tinted black. Glancing around at the shabby parking lot and surrounding structures, he frowned and double checked the building’s number against the slip of paper he had folded in his wallet: 269 Souter. He shrugged and stepped from the Navigator, activating its security system as he did so. The building’s metal doors were heavy but unlocked. He tugged at them, his sense of unease ebbing as the doors opened to reveal a brightly lit showroom with a dozen pool tables on display. Directly across from the entrance was a long wooden counter, stained a dark oak and manned by a young Latina. She was reading a trade mag when he came in and she put it to one side, tilting her head, her dark eyes watching him as he crossed the room. When he was a few feet from the counter, she dropped another glance at the magazine and tucked it under the counter. She looked at the clock before turning her attention back to him. He knew, without looking, that 17

Baby's Back it was late, just a few minutes before the store’s advertised closing time. “You here to buy?” she asked. “Yeah,” Josh answered. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he tried to avoid looking at her. She had silk black hair and nearly black eyes. Her lips were red and shiny, but he couldn’t see that she was wearing any other makeup. “I called earlier, talked to…ah…Mr. Angelo?” “Angelo Valenzuela,” she corrected. “That’s my dad—he’s gone for the day, but I can show you around.” She picked up a remote control and aimed it at the door. “You a pro?” she asked after she had locked them in. Josh shrugged, managing to suppress a cocky grin. He was flush with cash from a five-state regional tournament, but she was probably used to guys bragging in the store. She turned, offering her side profile and he examined her from the corner of his eye. Small breasts, a flat stomach, and a generous backside curve that disappeared behind the counter. She would definitely have had her fill of guys bragging that they were professional pool players. “I’ll be with you in a sec, okay?” she said with a smile half a second before she disappeared behind a door. Josh turned away, pretending to look at one of the nearby tables. He picked up a cue ball, dropping it on the table when she came out and around the counter. He picked the ball back up, looking at her reflection in the tinted window. “I thought there were some Craftmasters?” he asked after his gaze had made the 18

Ann Vremont long journey up her reflection’s legs—from the red sandals to the equally red mini-skirt. She pointed at another door and gestured that he should follow her. “Next room. My name’s Annette, by the way.” “Josh,” he answered absently as he followed, his gaze fixed on the soft sway of her full bottom. “You play?” he asked. “Only on the best and with the best,” she answered and picked up a cue stick. She stopped in front of a Connelly Biltmore. Canting a hip, she leaned against the table and ran one hand lovingly over the wood’s dark spice finish. “This is what you should buy,” she suggested. “Nice,” he answered. “But a little more than what I had in mind.” He stepped in front of a Craftmaster covered with a dark royal blue felt. The balls were already set on the table, still kept tight by a matching oak pool triangle. Annette brushed past Josh and began to roll the balls back and forth with the triangle. Each forward motion raised the hem of her red mini-skirt dangerously high. Each backward motion made his heart sink in disappointment, only to have it rise again with fresh hope as she moved forward. Satisfied with the balls’ placement, she stopped and turned to him. Placing a fingertip under his chin, she slowly raised his gaze higher until he was looking into her dark brown eyes. “The Biltmore’s on sale,” she said. “Just another 2k. It plays better.” “It’s not the table,” Josh said, his words nearly lost 19

Baby's Back in soft contemplation of her mouth. He tried to decide whether the lips were strawberry red or a light cherry. Her tongue darted out, pointedly touching the tip of her upper lip. Strawberry, he decided. “It’s the player, right?” Her mouth parted in a broad smile and she turned back to the table, picking up the cue ball and handing it to him. “Tell you what, Mr. Player. I’ll play you for it.” Josh cleared his throat and gave his jeans a discreet readjustment. “What do you mean?” “I’ll play you for the difference,” she answered and forced the smile into a luscious pout. “I win, you buy the Biltmore.” “And if I win, you’ll take 2k off the Craftmaster?” he asked. The cocky grin he had kept suppressed earlier surfaced now. He could afford to buy the Biltmore…he even wanted to buy the Biltmore. Win or lose, he’d still have a good deal. She shook her head. “No, that’s not what you get if you win.” Before Josh could ask what he would get, she answered him by sliding up onto a nearby table. She leaned back, her hands on the felt, her legs just wide enough and her skirt just high enough that he could see that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He felt a painful jerk in his pants and readjusted his jeans a second time—this time without trying to hide it from her. His gaze returned to her crotch, his lips parting when he noticed that her pubic mound was smooth— shaven or waxed to a bald perfection. Josh looked around the room, wondering if he was on some adult version of a reality show. The walls 20

Ann Vremont were covered in cue cabinets and soft neon signs telling him that he was, indeed, in a store called Behind the 8 Ball. “You’re saying,” he started, stopping when his voice squeaked. “You’re saying that, when I win, you’ll have sex with me?” “Should you win,” Annette answered with a pure Latina pout before sliding off the table. “But you won’t.” She turned around, facing away from him, her arms folded on the pool table in front of her, her caramel brown ass high in the air. The dark red maroon of her labia glistened, their shine reminding him of her glossy lips. “Your break,” she offered. Josh bent low over the table, his gaze fixed on the cue ball and the perfect triangle of balls at the far end of the table. Annette widened her stance as he brought the cue stick forward. The stick connected with the ball a fraction of an inch from where he intended to strike, leaving him with only the 15 and 11 in the pocket. Annette gave a little displeased grunt and spun around. Josh took a deep breath and tried not to notice that her cue stick was between her spread legs, her weight resting on the center of the shaft. She shifted forward, watching him, her pussy sliding like silk along the stick as Josh stepped behind the 14, pocketing both it and the cue ball. “I get a turn?” Annette smiled and retrieved the cue ball. Josh didn’t answer or return her smile. His balls were aching, yearning for the same unclothed freedom Annette’s ass was enjoying, while his cock 21

Baby's Back wanted nothing more than to be fully sheathed inside her. Her face turned to him, Annette shot and sank the 3. “The 5 looks nice, don’t you think?” she asked. Josh glanced down at the table; the 5 was directly in front of him. He shrugged but barely backed up as she stepped between him and the table. Lining up her shot, she bent over the table, the cleavage of her ass pressing around the zipper to his pants and the bulging erection on the other side of the cloth. He put a hand on each side of her ass, massaging the firm globes, parting and then compressing them until they smothered his jean-clad erection. “No hands, Josh,” Annette admonished him. “You’ll make me miss my shot.” “That’s hardly fair of you,” he said, his hands lingering on her hot flesh. He wanted to dip his fingers into her pussy, feel her wet and excited, but knew he’d never shake the sensation long enough to finish the game. “True,” she agreed and he could hear the smile in her voice. “Why don’t you take your cock out and step around the table…maybe the sight will throw my game off?” “Maybe,” he said. He unzipped his jeans slowly so that she could hear the unmistakable slide of the pull over the zipper’s teeth. He lowered his jeans and boxers an inch, just enough to allow the tip of his cock to push free. “But I think I’ll stay on this side of the table.” Annette shrugged. She bent over the table again, her ass no more than a centimeter from his cock. Her 22

Ann Vremont body was tense as she slid the cue stick back and too loose as she released the shot, missing the 5 and sinking his 10. She turned, her gaze traveling down to the exposed tip of his erection. Her mouth formed an appreciative o at its girth. “Your shot,” she said, her voice smoky and subdued. Josh studied his next shot carefully, his hand dipping into his pants to stroke and expose the full length of his shaft. A smile curved along the edge of Annette’s mouth and he stopped. “I’m not used to girls laughing at it,” he said, aiming his shot for the 9. “Not at that size, no,” Annette agreed. “I was smiling because you decided to play hardball.” Josh gave a nonchalant lift of his shoulders before sinking the 9. “House rules,” he said. He lined up a combination shot with the 12 and the 13, his position placing him opposite where she was sitting on another pool table once again. “Oh, Josh, I haven’t even started to play by house rules,” she said, the heat in her voice stopping him cold before he pulled his cue stick back. He stood up, the shot unfinished, and looked at her. Her right hand was in her lap, her middle and index fingers spreading the lips of her pussy wide. She licked her left index finger and stuck it inside her. Her finger withdrew, spreading a mix of saliva and her own creamy lubrication over her clit. Josh took a deep breath, blew it out in a short burst through his nostrils, clearing his senses of the intoxicating aroma of her excitement. He leaned over the table, pre-cum beading along the tip of his erection, and lined his 23

Baby's Back shot up once more. “You really think you can make that shot, Josh?” Annette asked. Her fingers were still racing in and around her cunt, her breathing rapid, her pupils dilated to the point that they obscured her irises and left him staring into her volcanic black gaze. “Go ahead, Josh, make your shot, baby, make your shot.” She was moaning, her body locked in orgasm, as he sank the 12 and 13. He came around the table and stood in front of her, an arm on either side of her body as she writhed, still deep in her climax, on the table. The head of his cock, swollen, near bursting, pressed against the entrance to her cunt. Her knees and thighs, as heavily muscled as her ass, pressed against him, forcing him back. “You haven’t won yet, baby,” she panted. “You’ve got six balls to clear, you’ve lost,” Josh protested softly. His hands massaged her thighs, tried to coax her legs apart and allow him entry. “Face it.” “Uh-huh, Josh.” She tightened the muscles along her perineum, treating his tip to a lingering squeeze. “I can’t lose until you win.” He reached under her shirt, teasing her nipples to hard points. His voice was tortured passion as he pleaded with her. “I can’t pick up the fucking stick, I want to be inside your pussy that bad.” “You’re conceding?” She was sitting up now, leaning into his hands as he fondled her breasts. Her mouth nuzzled his neck, her breathing ragged and hot. “No,” he moaned and arched his back until his 24

Ann Vremont erection was once again poised at the entrance to her pussy. “You know I’ll make the shot, damn it. Just let me fuck you and I’ll buy the Biltmore anyway.” He reached between them, his hands finding the base of his cock to throttle the building pressure. Annette pushed his hand away and squeezed his erection. His cock filling both her hands, she pumped it gently, her tongue tracing a circle around her lips. “Double or nothing?” she suggested, her hands falling away before she drove him to the point of climax. Josh stared at her, dumb with passion, and she gently pushed him back. She got down on her knees and pulled a condom from the small hip pocket on her skirt. Taking his cock in her hand again, she unrolled the latex rubber down its length. “Make your shot while you’re fucking me,” she said and turned her back to him, her hands planted on the Craftmaster’s sides, her legs spread wide. “From this position.” “And if I sink the 8 ball?” Josh asked. He was standing behind her, his hands roaming the full curve of her ass, his fingers dipping into her pussy, playing in the heated honey that coated her insides. “What do you want, Josh?” Annette asked. Her own need rumbled through her question, thickening his cock with the need to plunge into her. Josh dipped his finger inside her, swirled it until it was heavy with her cream and then he spread her ass cheeks. He pressed his fingertip against the puckered hole of her ass. She pressed back, moaning and clenching her pussy. “I want to fuck you in the ass,” he answered, his 25

Baby's Back finger entering the tight hole while his cock throbbed in jealousy. “And I want another 2k knocked off the cost of the Biltmore.” “Then make the shot, baby,” she answered and backed up until his cock was buried inside her pussy. She passed his cue stick back to him. The muscles of her cunt danced around his cock, squeezing it and then relaxing in a slow release that had him in a state of near orgasm. Josh shook his head and placed his palm against the small of her back. “I want to make you cum first,” he said. Annette squeezed down tight, locking him inside her. “It won’t count if you cum before you shoot,” she warned. “I said I wanted to make you cum,” he corrected her and placed the cue stick back on the table. One hand held her hip, while his other reached below his balls to stroke her clit. “You’re so close, baby, aren’t you?” he asked, plunging into her. She moaned in answer and he twisted her clit gently, tugging at it. The top of her skirt fluttered against her ass, the heavy cotton making a soft slapping noise against her skin. He thrust harder, leaving the engorged button between her lips to spread her ass cheeks wide. The little hole was locked tight as her pussy contracted around his cock. He licked his thumb and then inserted it into the tight channel. She exploded in orgasm as his thumb entered her, her cunt riding him in a wave of rapidfire contractions. She picked the cue stick up, shoving it at him, 26

Ann Vremont almost screaming in her ecstasy. “Make your shot, Josh. Now!” Balls tight in anticipation, he picked the cue stick up. “Stay still,” he warned and rested the stick in the bend between her shoulder and neck. “Center pocket.” He drew the stick back, his cock retreating until only the tip remained inside her pussy, and then released the shot, filling her again in one smooth stroke. The tip of the stick hit the cue ball straight in the center but without the force he had intended. The 8 ball rolled forward, hovering at the edge of the pocket. Beneath him, Annette trembled and he put a hand on each shoulder. “Shhh…baby, it’ll go in,” he assured her. He had the sudden urge to blow on the ball and his grip on her tightened. He held his breath, waiting while fate decided whether the ball would come to a full stop or fall into the pocket. He blinked. The closing of his eyes took less than a single beat of a hummingbird’s wings, but the 8 ball was gone when he opened them. He thought he saw Annette’s hand creeping back under her chest and his mouth opened in a disbelieving smile. “You didn’t—“ “Shut up and fuck me, Josh,” she answered in a sotto voice. She reached behind her and spread her ass cheeks, teasing him with the sight of her ready flesh. His erection, still pumped full with blood, throbbed an urgent plea. Josh slid his cock out of her pussy and let the tip rest against the thickly muscled opening above it. Gently, he pushed her hands to the 27

Baby's Back side, bunching her cheeks in his hands. He entered her slowly, savoring the sensation of her ass enveloping his cock. He’d imagined a hundred times over that a woman’s ass would be like this…hot velvet clamped tight, sucking his cock in inch by slow inch. Annette contracted the muscles between ass and cunt, drawing him further into her yielding channel. He grasped her cheeks tighter, controlling her movements before he erupted inside her. “Slower,” he pleaded, the pressure of his oncoming orgasm building. “I want to take you slowly.” Annette moaned, her hands wrapped around the table’s edge in a white-knuckled death grip. Josh could feel the muscles of her pussy working, pushing her closer to her own climax. He plunged his cock into her, burying it between her firm cheeks. He withdrew to the tip and thrust again, the first ripple of his orgasm moving through his cock, caressing the inside of her channel. “Again!” she moaned the command and retreated along the length of his shaft. He pulled her to him as he pushed into her, the thrusts becoming erratic in their urgency. The ripple built to a heavy wave of cum that shot through his cock. “Don’t stop,” Annette cried, her ass and pussy contracting, holding him tight while she slid along the length of his shaft. He buried himself in her again, his body paralyzed and at the mercy of their mutual pleasure. Releasing one last scream, Annette flung her body back against his chest and Josh wrapped his arms around her, stroking her as she mindlessly rode his cock. He 28

Ann Vremont backed up, taking her with him, until he was sitting on the edge of the Biltmore. His hands traveled over her sides, soothing the trembling flesh that threatened to burn him. Slowly, her body returned to normal and she relaxed against him. Still disbelieving his good fortune, Josh kissed her neck, stroked a nipple, gently pinching it when she turned and moaned into his mouth. After a long minute, Annette broke the kiss. She smiled up at him, her voice dancing with a drowsy mischief. “Tell me, Mr. Hardwick, the part of this table that you actually have to pay for…will that be cash or credit?” Josh started to answer until he realized she’d used his last name. “I didn’t tell you my last name,” he said in a stutter. Annette eased herself off of him and turned, legs weak from loving. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smothered his mouth in another long kiss. “My dad just works here,” she explained. “I own the store. And I sure do know you, Josh. Regional champion, state champion three years straight.” Josh shook his head, tried to clear the confusion. Annette trapped his face between her hands and teased his bottom lip with her teeth. “Kind of like a groupie,” she explained, her pink tongue darting inside his mouth and laving his top palate before retreating. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. I was heartbroken when I couldn’t travel to regionals and watch you play.” He circled her waist with his arms, pulled her closer to him. “You travel to watch me play?” 29

Baby's Back “Mmm-hmm.” The pretty Latina pout was in place once again. “But this is the first time I’ve been able to distract your game.” “It won’t be the last,” Josh promised, dipping his head to taste her strawberry kiss.

30

Ann Vremont

Pleasure Cube

M

errick Keogh scrolled through the weekly report on his biotech firm’s Internet usage. As the information systems’ security manager, he was on the hunt for two things: large file transfers to outside systems and the heavy abuse cases—those people spending the day in chat rooms, gambling, or sites that could get the company sued for sexual discrimination. He smiled, his progress halted, when he came to an anal erotica web site. He had the site bookmarked on his home system and had spent countless hours in his bedroom, masturbating to the hardcore videos. A definite favorite but not something he could allow the company’s employees to indulge in on the clock. He pulled up the user log file, the smile quickly fading from his face. Katelyn McMurphy. He closed his eyes, calling up an image of the delicate pre-med student that worked part-time for the firm. Her hair was a halo of pale copper, framing a porcelain white face with a pink pout of a mouth and wide, sea-green eyes framed in the same shade of red. Her smile was set with small even teeth, like pearls, but more rarely 31

Baby's Back glimpsed. Merrick cut his visualization of the little Irish beauty short before he ventured lower and busted a zipper thinking of her petite breasts and slim hips. Looking at the clock, he switched programs to check her system’s current use. It was 8 pm and her system was not only logged on, but also was downloading video files from the site. Merrick slapped his desktop, swearing at his monitor, “Damn janitors!” He stood and stalked down the hallway to the stairwell. Her cube was two floors down. He’d catch one of the janitors in the act and warn Katelyn in the morning that she needed to log off her system before going home. The stairwell opened onto a warren of cubes—wide aisles with smaller branches shooting off. He could see the glow from her desk’s cabinet light and approached quietly. The soft, rhythmic squeak of an office chair from inside her cube made Merrick stop. He could hear someone breathing, the sound a low pant. His cock swelled as he realized the faint moans of pleasure were distinctly feminine. Steeling himself, Merrick stepped into the cube’s entryway, his gaze taking in the scene before him. On the monitor, a large Latino had his face buried in the crotch of a petite Asian chick. A thin wire that ran from the computer case’s speaker plug to Katelyn’s ear silenced the woman’s moans. Seeing Katelyn, he drew a sharp breath. She was poised on the edge of her chair, each hand gripping an armrest. Her thin white linen blouse was tucked 32

Ann Vremont into a long black skirt that dusted the floor. Her position pulled the skirt tight to her body and he could see her ass and thigh muscles clenching and relaxing as the man on screen rim-licked the Asian woman. “Katelyn…” His tone was hesitant and he thought for a second that she hadn’t heard him. She didn’t jump or jerk, but froze in place. His gaze traveled from her ass to her chest and he saw that she was holding her breath. He noted she was blushing heavily, as if the heated blood that had been joyously circulating through her thighs and ass had raced to stain her cheeks crimson. Merrick put his hand on the back of her chair and pulled it far enough from her desk that he could step in front of her. Her gaze widened but, instead of looking up at his face, she dropped it to stare at the thick bulge of his cock pressed against his khaki pants. Her pink lips parted, gracing him with a flash of the pearl white teeth before her tongue darted out to flick her upper lip. Merrick moaned, his cock jumping forward to blindly search for the pink temptation of her lips and tongue. He knelt before her and his hands traveled over the silk crepe of her skirt until he reached her ankles, where he started an upward caress of her nylon-covered legs. The nylons stopped mid-thigh, secured in place by a garter belt. He groaned again, his hands moving quickly to whip the skirt up high and expose the coppery blonde triangle of pubic hair. His gaze traveled slowly upward. Her arms and shoulders were trembling. Her mouth quivered and a 33

Baby's Back feverish light danced wildly in her eyes. Merrick restarted the video before placing an open palm, fingers spread wide, on each of her bare thighs. Her skin was hot to the touch and soft, like butter the second before it begins to melt. He looked at the computer screen and then at her pussy, wet with excitement. “Tell me what he’s doing,” Merrick ordered. “He’s got his mouth on her.” Her voice was shaky and feverish, too, and he could smell the heat coming off her. “That’s called eating her pussy,” Merrick explained firmly. “Now, tell me again. What’s he doing to her, Kat?” “He’s eating her pussy.” Merrick dipped his head, his tongue darting out to swipe her clit in one long stroke. She moaned and pushed forward hesitantly. “And where are his hands?” He murmured the words against her labia, inhaling the aroma of her arousal. “Under her,” she moaned and lifted her ass. He cupped the small globes, dipping his thumbs into her wet pussy for lubrication. He circled the entrance to her ass with the rough pads. “And where are his thumbs, Kat?” “In her,” Katelyn panted and parted her legs. He slid his thumbs back up to the spongy entrance of her cunt. “No!” she protested, the word a desperate groan of need. “Then, tell me, where are his thumbs?” “Lower.” Merrick moved back to the red pucker of her ass. “Here?” 34

Ann Vremont “Yes, there, please.” She squirmed against him, her flesh sucking at him. “He’s got his thumbs in her ass?” he asked. He laved the walls of her labia again, then pointed his tongue and teased the smaller hole below with shallow thrusts while he waited for her to answer. “Yes.” Breathless now, she pushed against him. “In her ass.” Merrick waited for her next impatient push and plunged his thumbs into her while he attacked her tender clit with his tongue, nibbling at it with his lips while he withdrew and thrust into her again. Licking and thrusting, he had Katelyn squirming against his mouth and hands. Her fingers were wrapped in his hair and she pulled his head closer, demanding more as she screamed out in orgasm. She bucked against him and his grip on her ass tightened, his tongue hard against her trembling cunt. Merrick stood and unzipped his pants, his cock protruding past the band of his boxers. He pulled Katelyn to her feet and pushed his erection against her stomach. Hands once again cupping her ass, he nuzzled her ear. “I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long, Kat.” Katelyn stiffened and started to push away from him. Her gaze was wide, frightened. “My parents…” The image of Katelyn’s mother, Bridget, popped into Merrick’s head. She was a pinched, drier version of Katelyn, and her hand seemed perpetually clasped to the crucifix pendant she wore. Her father was just as dry and solemn. Even though Katelyn was twenty and in college, Merrick had never seen her arriving or 35

Baby's Back leaving work without being driven by one of her parents. Merrick stepped back and pointed at the open surface of her desk. “Lean over,” he ordered. She complied and he lifted the black skirt over her hips. He slipped two fingers into her pussy, tentatively exploring until he brushed against the velvety membrane of her hymen. She wiggled against his fingers, a small moan escaping her parted lips. Imagining the stern lectures Kat had received from her parents on preserving her maidenhead for her husband, he withdrew his fingers and circled the rosy circle of her ass with one tip. “Are you a virgin, here, too?” She nodded, heat warring with fear in the seagreen eyes. Leaning over, Merrick left clicked through to the video he had been watching at home last night, cock in hand as he thought about Katelyn. As the video loaded, he rubbed the small of her back, the tense muscles relaxing beneath his firm hands. “Now, I want you to be very specific, Kat, when answering my questions, or I’m leaving. Got that?” he asked. She nodded and he dipped his fingers into her moist cunt again, lubricating his shaft with a mix of her juices and his pre-cum. On the monitor, a black male with the largest cock Merrick had ever seen had a blonde bent over a kitchen table, his cock rammed into her ass. Merrick poised the tip of his cock against the tight entrance. He clamped down on his need to pump a 36

Ann Vremont stream of cum across her pretty little cheeks. “Now, tell me, what’s he doing?” “He’s fucking her in the ass,” Katelyn moaned and wiggled against the swollen head of his shaft. Merrick pushed an inch into her, her muscles snugly embracing his cock. He pushed another inch in. “God, that’s tight,” he groaned and moved forward another inch. With a sharp push, he buried the rest of his cock in her ass. Katelyn’s pussy offered a jealous clench and he groaned as he felt her muscles pushing up against the length of his shaft. “That’s good, baby,” he said and gripped her hips. “Hold that pussy tight for me.” Katelyn pressed down. Her legs were shaking with effort and need. She had turned her head away from the monitor and he forced her gaze back to the screen. “How is he fucking her in the ass?” he asked. “Hard,” she demanded, her voice a harsh pant of arousal. “Hard?” he asked and withdrew until just the tip of his cock remained inside her. “Are you sure he’s fucking her hard?” “Yes, hard. He’s fucking her hard.” Her words were a babble of desire and she clamped down on his cock, urging him on. Merrick tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her to him as he thrust into her. Her chest rose from the desk as he withdrew to his tip once again and then she slammed back down as he rammed into her a second time. “Faster,” she moaned and he could feel the flutter of her pussy as she neared orgasm. 37

Baby's Back Merrick’s cock, a piston thick with need, pounded into her. His balls ached, eager to fill her, to pump his semen into her ass and hear her moan his name. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled as he drove his cock into her ass. “Cum for me.” Gripping the edge of her desktop, Katelyn jerked against Merrick, her torso lifting up. He wanted to grab the length of coppery hair, to force her back to him while he rode her, but he kept his hands locked to her hips. All but his thrusting cock was immobilized as his climax erupted inside her. Spent, Merrick collapsed into her chair, pulling her with him, his shaft still embedded in her. He wrapped an arm around her chest, felt the small swell of breasts beneath. He put his other hand under her skirt and caressed the distended clit before circling the swollen entrance to her pussy. “I want to taste your pussy again.” He breathed the words against her neck. “And that sweet little hole of yours.” Under his gentle touch, her body was a bundle of exposed wires, electricity arcing from her as she moved against him. He dipped a finger inside her, stroking her gently. “I want to show you all my favorite sites, feel your mouth on my cock, lick you from head to toe,” he offered. “Are you going to let me do that, Kat?” Her consent caught in her throat and she moaned, her body straining against his still probing fingers. Merrick forced the hesitancy from his voice, turned the half-entreaty to a hard demand. “Yes, Kat?” “Yes,” she answered, her small frame slowly 38

Ann Vremont relaxing into his. “Yes.”

39

Baby's Back

Backstage Pass

F

elix pulled the edge of the velvet stage curtain to one side. His hooded gaze scanned the diamondclad crowd of New York’s elite, quickly spotting the man and woman sitting in the fourth row. They were in their mid-fifties, the woman a faded blonde. Felix knew from their New England, middle-class attempt at dressing up and the Puritan scowls they wore that these two were the cause of the brewing backstage tempest. A feminine voice hissed in his ear. “You aren’t ready to go on stage!” Felix bit down on the urge to jump. Instead, he turned calmly to the speaker. It was Miriam, his leading lady, the tempest herself. Her mouth was a pinched crimson pout, her face otherwise colorless from the white stage powder and cold white anger that gripped her. His gaze dropped to the swell of her powdered breasts pushed high by the tightly corseted dress she wore. He felt his cock bobbing to life in his pants. “Oh, I’m ready, ‘demoiselle Beatrice,” he sneered and cupped his crotch. “I was just taking a peek at 40

Ann Vremont your parents.” He fixed a smile on his face. “How nice of them to come all the way from Plymouth to show their support.” “Boston, and they’re here, undoubtedly, to pass judgment on my soul.” She whipped the words out with a waspish sting and Felix braced himself for the full force of her anger. Instead, she smiled, her eyes like dancing blue flames. She reached out and gently squeezed his erection. “I know how bad you are at reading script.” She dropped her hand lower. Her finger ventured between his legs to roughly caress his perineum through the cloth with her knuckle. “Perhaps your improvisation skills are better?” Miriam didn’t wait for him to answer. She spun around, her hoop skirt dusting his shoes, and strode onto the center of the set. She sat on a high stool and the prop manager put the remains of a broken teacup in her lap. The curtain pulled back as she studied the shards, her face filled with a desperate longing. Felix tried to shake off the effect of her touch and words, but his now angry erection wouldn’t fade. He marched onto the stage, his hands balled into fists at his side. He heard a murmur of appreciation from one of the women in the front row at the heavy bulge pushing against his skin-tight coachman’s breeches. He stepped closer to his leading lady, the pulse of his cock drowning out her soft invocation of his character’s name. He saw her lips move, shaping the name. Louis. “Enough, Beatrice!” he shouted and swept the teacup from her lap as he grabbed her by the wrist. 41

Baby's Back He jerked her to her feet, more violently than usual and her breasts were forced flat against him, threatening to spill. The stiff silk of her skirt rubbed at his erection and he released an unscripted moan. “Louis,” she protested again, her breasts heaving. Her tongue darted out to wet her upper lip and it was all he could do to remember that he had to drag her to the crate at the front of the stage. She put up a weak fight, her body trembling with her character’s need for punishment. “Please, I beg you, don’t do this!” Blood pounded through him at a deafening pace. He sat down on the crate, pulling her onto him so that her stomach was flat across his thighs. He could feel her squirming against his cock and he closed his eyes for a moment to bring his need for release back under control. A paddle was on the crate beside him and he picked it up. He twirled it by the handle to test its weight. Before she had time to prepare herself, he brought it down hard. They both groaned at the sound of the wood finding the silk skirt and soft skin beneath. He brought the paddle down again, his gaze fixed on her face and not her bottom. Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed over. She was panting when he brought the paddle down a third time. Her breasts were pushing against the top of her gown, teasing him with a glimpse of her pale pink nipples. He put his palm hard on the center of her shoulder blades and pushed her forward as he hit her again. The added movement brought her nipples into full view. His fingers itched to pinch the hard pink 42

Ann Vremont tips and he reached down to squeeze her breasts. She gasped, the sound a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Her hip rubbed against his cock as her ass rose to eagerly meet the paddle’s downward fall. He let the paddle drop to the crate and he lifted her skirt. This time it was the audience that gasped. Her bottom was bare, the pale flesh shining a bright red. He drew a deep breath, the perfume of her evident excitement filling his senses. His open palm slapped her ass and lifted, her skin instantly flushing with his palm print. He brought his hand down lower and felt the flutter of her pussy as he slapped her again. She made a small mewling sound and he slapped her in the same spot, harder. She spread her legs, exposing more of her cunt to him. Again he hit her, this time with his fingertips slapping against the fleshy entrance to her pussy. “Don’t…stop,” she screamed breathlessly, her mound pumping against the outside of his thigh. She was climaxing and the thought infuriated him. She would walk off the stage, smug and satisfied while he retreated to the bathroom to jack off. He dumped her on the floor and rose to his feet. She started to stand, her voice indignant as she called his character’s name in reprimand. “Enough,” he bellowed, a real rage trembling through his voice. He needed the charade to end and he spun her around, forcing her against the stage wall. He lifted her skirt, ready to play fuck her for the crowd. He paused as the edge of the skirt passed over her ass. The cleft of her ass was shiny. He spread her cheeks to find the entrance to her ass well lubricated 43

Baby's Back with a clear, slick jelly. “Do it,” Miriam demanded in a heated stage whisper. He strained his gaze to see her parents without looking directly at the audience. Her mother was pale, perhaps even on the verge of fainting. Her father’s face was flushed a heavy red, his hands gripping the back of the seat in front of him. “Do it, you worthless fuck!” Miriam said and pushed her ass against his erection. Felix let her skirt pile against his stomach, obscuring the audience’s view as he reached beneath the fabric and released his cock. He gave her ankles a rough tap, signaling for her to spread her stance. He grabbed the smooth globes of her ass, pulling the cheeks apart as he centered the tip of his cock against her slick entrance. She wiggled impatiently against him and he plunged into her. She stifled a scream and retreated along the length of his shaft. “Again, Louis, again!” He rammed his cock into the tight channel. His hands moved to her hips and he began to pump in and out, his moans mingling with her pleasured grunts as she rode his shaft. She contracted the muscles at the base of her perineum, her ass folding around his shaft like a tight fist. His balls slapped against her pussy in an excited rhythm and his orgasm thundered through his cock. She squeezed tighter, milking his cum from him. “Mine, mine!” Her voice was triumphant as her own orgasm ripped through her. He collapsed against her, possessed by her heat and the sweet contractions 44

Ann Vremont that trembled through her. As the roar of blood through his head subsided, he heard the loud applause and peeked through closed eyelids to see that all but two members of the audience were standing and cheering. Miriam’s mother hid her face behind her hands while her father’s face was streaked with tears. “Listen to them,” Miriam murmured, pleasure continuing to ripple through her body. “Do you hear what they’re saying?” Felix stilled his heavy breathing and lifted his head from Miriam’s back. The audience was chanting, the single wording bringing a fresh swell of blood racing back into his cock. Encore!

45

Baby's Back

Ice Princess

V

incent Bowers was perched over a team file folder when someone knocked on his open door. He looked up, saw that it was Candace Lodge, and immediately flipped the folder shut. He glanced at the small clock radio on his desk. It was a few minutes before 10 pm and he asked the obvious. “Still here?” Candace nodded and Vincent noticed she was near tears. He allowed himself an internal groan. She was here, no doubt, to argue over his cutting her from the Nationals’ team. “Look, Candace,” he started, trying to keep his tone gentle but firm. “The selections are final.” He wanted to say more, to assure her that she was good, that she was grace on ice, but he stopped himself. She would only use his compliments against him in her argument and he didn’t want to have to tell her that her beauty and swan-like movements would take her a million places in life, but never to Nationals. “It’s not that,” Candace said. She was holding her right hand behind her and tears were starting to slip down her pale cheeks. “Mack isn’t here,” she said, her chest giving a little hitch as she mentioned the team’s 46

Ann Vremont first aid technician. Vincent jumped up from his chair and crossed his office in three long strides. He reached out, afraid to touch her, not knowing where or how badly she was injured. “Did you fall on your wrist?” he asked. Candace shook her head and took a step back. Her cheeks, tear stained, flushed a soft pink. “There was a blade tip or something on the ice.” She turned, offering him a view of her right inside thigh. She had a towel pressed against the cut, but he could see blood seeping through. “It’s not too bad,” she said, but the tremble in her voice made Vincent’s stomach feel like a hollowed pit. “I just need a butterfly or something…” He pointed a stern finger at the front of his desk. “Wait there while I get the first aid kit,” he said before leaving the office. He jogged down the hall to the locker room, announcing 'male on the floor' in his deep voice before fully opening the door. It was empty, as expected, most of the skaters out celebrating or pouting over the final selections. He trotted over to Trisha MacKenzie’s office and retrieved the first aid kit. A minute later, he was running back into his office. He stopped just inside the door, suddenly lightheaded at the sight of Candace leaning over his desk, her right hand still reaching behind her to hold the makeshift compress in place. Recovering, he stepped behind her and dropped to his knees. He pushed her hand away, wiping the blood off her thigh with the towel. “Well,” he said, examining the inch long cut in her 47

Baby's Back thigh. “It looks like it stopped bleeding, at least.” He took an antiseptic swab and wiped the cut clean. Candace gave a little hiss. “Don’t be a baby,” he complained playfully while he searched through the kit for one of the chemical sealers and a large bandage. He brought the applicator tip to the edge of the cut. Her legs trembled and he placed his free hand just above her knee. Vincent started to move the applicator along the line of the cut, stopping with a hard swallow as the cut disappeared into the line of her skate suit. A stray pubic hair, a shade darker than the light blonde hair that fell to her waist, peeked from the suit’s elastic banding, momentarily caressing his index finger. He dropped the applicator back into the first aid kit, forgetting to recap it. He unwrapped the bandage, his hands shaking. “How’s your fiancé? Tim, is it?” he asked, trying to keep his attention focused on her cut and not on the curve of her firm ass. “Todd,” Candace corrected him but didn’t answer his question. “Spread your legs a little,” Vincent suggested as he tried to line the bandage up with the cut. Her thighs clenched, blocking his hand. “Come on,” he coaxed, unintentionally massaging her thigh until she relaxed and let him secure the bandage over the cut. He stood, waiting for her to move, but she remained as still as a statue. “Todd wants me to quit skating,” she said suddenly, her voice a little girl whisper. “Are you going to?” “Yeah, I guess.” She gave a little shrug as she 48

Ann Vremont answered. “My parents wanted me to start skating, Todd wants me to stop.” She reached under the band of her skate suit and pulled out a folded piece of paper for Vincent to read. His body brushed against hers as he took the note. Her hair and skin held the faint scent of lilies. Not breaking contact with her body, he read the note one handed, his other hand resting on her hip. He tossed the note on his desk and softly ran his lips across the back of her ear as he asked, “And what about your wants, Candace?” “I don’t have that many.” There was another slight lift of her shoulders and then her body began to shake. With a hand on each of her hips and his erection pressed against her Lycra-encased ass, Vincent trailed his lips across her shoulders. “Why are you here, Candy?” He let the more familiar form of her name slowly roll off his tongue, tasting the sweetness of how it sounded as it slipped from his mouth. She didn’t answer his question, choosing instead to ask one of her own. “Why have you kept me on the team so long?” “I love watching you move,” Vincent confessed. “Your energy is so refined.” His grip on her hips tightened and he pressed his erection more firmly against her. “Although, you might get higher competition scores if it were a little rougher.” He noticed that she had stopped shaking. A light film of perspiration made her skin glow and her breathing had grown impossibly shallow. “Why are you here?” he asked again. 49

Baby's Back Candace reached down between her legs and unhooked the opening to her skate suit. “To say goodbye.” Vincent closed his eyes, one hand leaving her hip to caress her thigh. He slid his palm between her labia, feeling how hot and wet she was. “You’re engaged, Candy.” Vincent’s cock pulsed angrily forward at his treacherous reminder. He thought of his arrival as the head skate coach three years before. Candace had just turned 21 and the other 21 and over members of the team and staff had pulled both of them out to a club for a joint birthday celebration and welcoming party. She wore her hair down that night, the pale blonde tresses sparking his imagination despite the eight-year age difference. Even now, the sight of her hair down gave him an instant erection. “It’s not really cheating, is it,” she began, her voice so faint he had to strain to hear her, “if you go where Todd won’t?” Vincent released a deep groan that was half growl. He gave her shoulder a gentle bite, trying to restrain himself from consuming her whole. “Candy, do you know what you’re asking for?” “I…I’ve done it before,” she said, breaking into an embarrassed stutter. “If that’s what you’re asking.” Vincent turned her until she was facing him. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, which suited his intent. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic bands of his boxers and track pants, pulling them down to reveal his erection. Candace swallowed, hard, her gaze widening and the soft pout of her lips opening to 50

Ann Vremont reveal the tip of her tongue. She reached out, tried to wrap one of her able hands around the shaft, but couldn’t. She drew a deep breath, tentatively wetting her upper lip. “I still want to,” she said. “I really want to,” she added and squeezed his cock for emphasis. Vincent lifted Candace onto the desk before locking his office door and searching through his gym bag for a condom. Not satisfied with the amount of lubrication the condom would provide, he dumped the first aid contents on the floor and sorted through them until he found a small container of a waterbased lubricant. He put the rubber on and quickly gave it a thick coat of the jelly while he stepped out of his boxers and pants. He turned to find Candace, as limber as any skater on the team, sitting on the desk, her legs spread wide with a foot off to each side. Her hands gripped her ankles to hold the position. Vincent wanted to taste her honey-covered lips and he bent down. But Candace saw his intent and pushed him away. Suppressing a growl, he kissed her thigh, trailing his tongue down the curve of her ass. He put his hands on her ankles and told her to lean back. She did, her cheeks spreading further to reveal the pale rose pucker. He slid his tongue over the hole’s entrance, his balls contracting as she moaned in pleasure. He wanted to make her cum first, to relax her body before filling her with his sizable cock. He dipped his tongue into her cunt before she could protest and quickly returned to the rosy hole below, inserting the tip into her. His top lip played 51

Baby's Back firmly along her perineum, just below the split that led to her wet lips and distended clit. She began toying with the engorged button, her ass pumping the air in time with his shallow probing. He released his hold on her ankles, borrowing some of the jelly covering the condom to coat his index finger. He stood and inserted his finger into her ass, his gaze shifting back and forth between her pleasure-filled face to her cream-covered pussy and his finger thrusting in and out of her. Candace began to jerk in orgasm, deep ohs escaping her. As she continued climaxing, he removed his finger and began the slow slide of his cock into her. “Pull me in, Candy baby,” he moaned as the tip of his cock, swollen with need, entered her. Her ass contracted with the pulse of her orgasm and he rode the next wave of her pleasure, sinking several more inches of his cock into her. When her body pushed back, he waited for the next wave. Three inches, six, nine, and then the final two, his length and thickness fueling her orgasm. Keeping her legs spread, Vincent brought them up so that her ankles rested on the top of his shoulders. Her hands had left her cunt and were now kneading her small breasts. He watched his cock sliding in and out, thrusting to the hilt in one long stroke and then quickly retreating. The muscles of her ass rippled against his cock as they struggled to absorb him and he could tell from the rapid throb of her cunt that her orgasm hadn’t subsided, that she was riding one climax after another as he pounded his cock into her 52

Ann Vremont ass. Vincent slid one hand down her legs, insinuating it between her labia to thumb her clit. Candace moaned, the heavy muscles between her cunt and ass tightening, pressing down on his cock until he thought he would faint from pure pleasure. When she didn’t protest his playing with her clit, he smiled and grew bolder in touching what she had hoped to keep in reserve for her fiancé. His cock still power pumping her ass, he made a triangle of three fingers and inserted it into her pussy. She clamped down on his fingers, not to impede their progress or push them out but to hold them to her, to ride them as deliriously hard as she was riding his cock. Vincent’s smile grew wider, more satisfied, as his own climax neared. He had waited three years, wanting her, loving her from afar, always afraid that approaching her would be an abuse of his position. Now she was before him, offering her body up to him, surrendering her mind to the pleasure he was delivering. He wouldn’t wait anymore to pursue her, he promised as the first ripple of his orgasm pulsed through his cock, teasing the walls of her ass. Candace screamed her desire for him to fill her, to keep fucking her until she dissolved into nothing, into no one. He collapsed against her, ramming his cock into her as the last of his cum emptied from him. He kissed her breasts, sucked from the hard nipples like an infant in search of sustenance. He laved the hollow of her neck, murmuring words of love, of need, of tomorrow. In answer, she wrapped her arms around 53

Baby's Back him in consent, her body still locked in a process of death and rebirth, waves of renewal washing through her.

54

Ann Vremont

Backshore

C

assidy Danville stared out the window from the backseat of the Montero she was riding in. Her brother Nick and his best friend Steve were in the front, a wall of silence between them as Nick pouted over Cassidy accompanying them on the fishing trip. Cassidy was sitting directly behind Nick, but she knew that, if she could see his face, it would almost mirror her own. There would be the same high cheekbones and blue-black hair that hinted at their Cherokee heritage and contrasted sharply with the strong Nordic profile, blue eyes and fair skin their mother had passed on to them. Even with three years separating them in age, strangers still would stop them to ask if they were fraternal twins. Only their mouths were different. Nick’s lips were a dark ruby, like their father, and thin in a way that sometimes made him look merciless. Hers were fuller and much more pale, a cherried pink. The difference between their mouths was even more marked as she sat in the back seat, her lips drawn tight in anger instead of pushed forward in the selfish pout Nick was wearing. 55

Baby's Back “We could drop her off at Polly’s,” Nick suggested, breaking his silence as Steve pulled onto the highway. Nick’s voice still had the soft edge of a young man who has only recently set his teenaged years behind him. Cassidy bobbed her head from side to side, silently mimicking his suggestion. Watching her through the rearview mirror, Steve caught her in the act and tossed her a wink before shooting Nick’s idea down. “Your mom would have my balls,” Steve protested truthfully. “And it’s not what I told your mom I would do, anyway.” Nearing his thirtieth birthday, he was older than Nick, his voice richer and more confident. If Nick had listened to Steve’s voice, he might have realized that there was no arguing against Cassidy staying with them. But he either didn’t listen or was too stubborn to relent. It was, Cassidy sighed, probably a little bit of both. “I don’t see why she couldn’t stay at home,” Nick complained. His arms were folded tight against his chest and he had his head turned to the passengerside window. “Your mom’s out of town, your neighborhood has had four break-ins in the last month, and you still don’t get it?” Steve asked. His tone was somewhere between incredulous and angry. “Don’t be a fucking moron, Nicky!” There was a sharp puff of air as Nick tried to keep his temper in check and then he threw his hands up in the air, signaling his surrender. “I’m just saying that she’s eighteen now,” he said. “At some point, she has 56

Ann Vremont to start taking care of herself.” Cassidy listened from the back seat, too close to crying to trust herself to say anything. Her anger was replaced by a hurt that spiked deep into her chest. Nick had always been her protector growing up, their dad having died in an offshore drilling accident when Cassidy was six. The death hadn’t produced much of a change in their small household. Their mom, Sandra, still spent her days working and her nights partying. But Nicky had officially changed status in those first few weeks following their dad’s death. He became the man of the house and no longer just her big brother. He helped Cassidy with her homework, pummeled the neighborhood bullies who were foolish enough to target her, cleaned the scrape knees, and comforted her when she cried. Having put off college to avoid leaving her at home on her own, he had even helped her study for her SATs. But that had all changed two months ago. It was as if, in blowing out the candles on her birthday cake, she had simultaneously erased the years of close companionship they had shared. Almost overnight, Nicky had morphed from superhero to Class-A asshole. Steve popped a CD in the Montero’s stereo system, masking the silence that had crept back into the vehicle. Forty-five minutes after leaving her house, they reached Oologah Lake, but Steve spent another two hours driving back roads until they reached the more deserted northeast shore. Stretching as she climbed from the vehicle, Cassidy gave a little groan. “I thought we were getting out of 57

Baby's Back Back Shore for the weekend,” she teased. Bringing her arms back down from the stretch, she caught Steve’s speculative gaze as her full breasts settled back into place. Her nipples hardened to instant peaks at the thought of Steve looking at her like that and she blushed, suddenly regretting having only a thin Tshirt over her bikini top. Nick brushed past her, momentarily making her forget her embarrassment. He had pulled two beers from the cooler and handed one to Steve. He turned to Cassidy, popping the lid on his own beer and holding it tight to his chest. “Don’t even think about asking for one,” he said with a flat warning. “There’s pop and water in the cooler for you.” Steve was pulling the sleeping bags and firewood from the back of the Montero and he gestured toward the lake. “Got an hour or so before the light is gone and we won’t do any fishing until tomorrow.” He pulled a beach towel from the vehicle and handed it to her. “Might as well get a swim in while we set things up.” Cassidy put the towel over the back of a folding lawn chair and began pulling the t-shirt over her head. Once again, she was acutely aware that Steve’s gaze was caressing the now exposed skin. She felt the muscles surrounding her pussy tighten instinctively, catching her off balance so that she almost fell in taking the t-shirt off. Steve reached out a hand to steady her and she had to bite back the moan that was building in her chest. Another twitch at the entrance to her pussy and she could feel the warm syrupy liquid of her excitement slipping from her to soak into 58

Ann Vremont her bikini bottoms. She decided it would be better to take her shorts off at the shore and picked up the towel. As she walked by Steve, he caught her elbow and drew her close to him. “I can’t believe you still have this,” he said and stood behind her to unclasp the glass-beaded necklace he had given her on her fifteenth birthday. “You’re never too old for pink,” she said. Her voice was too nervous to carry off the joke and she closed her eyes to keep her body from shaking at the touch of his hand on her bare back. She imagined that she could feel the press of his erection between her ass cheeks and then he leaned closer to her and she realized it wasn’t imagination filling her lower cleavage. “Well, I’ll hold on to it while you take your swim,” he offered. Cassidy waited for Steve to back away from her, wanting him to stay but terrified that Nick would notice how close their bodies were to one another. When Steve didn’t move, she felt her knees go weak and stumbled forward, her feet numbly carrying her to the water’s edge. Finding a large flat rock, she put the towel down and stripped her shorts off. She dipped a toe in the water. It was colder than she usually preferred but she waded out into it, the water’s chill cooling her flushed skin and forcing its way between her heated labia. She moved away from the shore in long, swift strokes, not stopping until she felt the beginning of a side stitch. When she did stop, she was surprised to 59

Baby's Back feel a sand bar beneath her feet and she stopped wading. The water was still deep, covering all but her neck and head, and she turned to look back at Steven and Nick. In the fading light, she couldn’t see their faces, just Nick’s black head of hair and Steve’s strawberry blonde. Steve was building the fire, puffs of smoke curling up from the wood. Nick already was pulling another beer from the cooler. She frowned at that and hoped beer was the only alcohol Nick had brought. Cassidy’s attention floated back to Steve. He must have worked up a sweat from stacking the wood because his shirt was off. She couldn’t see the muscles or flat abs but she knew they were there, had spent the last two summers contemplating his hard chest and bulging biceps. Sighing, Cassidy slipped her hand underneath the band of her bikini bottoms. Bending her knees, the water up to her chin, she pushed a tentative finger between her labia. The cold water had done nothing to dampen her excitement. Her pussy was still slick, the spongy entrance to its interior swollen in anticipation of folding Steve’s cock into her depths. She brought the finger up higher, playing over the jolt button that was her sensitive clit. On the beach, Steve’s erection pressing against her, she had almost climaxed. Her body was still on edge, still ready to explode in orgasm and she started making long strokes along the line of her cunt, from hole to clit and back again. Half a second away from erupting, she pinched her clit, closing her eyes and counting until the sensation ebbed. When she regained some semblance of self-possession, she 60

Ann Vremont began to rub the line again, harder, more urgent than before. Her ass was squirming in the water, making small ripples around her. She bit down on her lower lip as the delicious fire made her nipples and toes ache with a hot tingle. Another furious rub of her finger over her clit and she jerked. A soft groan escaped her, spilling into the night air at the same time liquid shot from her urethra. Another jerk and she removed her hand from her bikini. Cassidy opened her eyes, trying to focus on the fire that was now blazing. Someone was walking down to the shoreline, his hands cupped to his eyes as he peered into the darkened waters. She looked back at the fire and saw Steve’s strawberry blond head. She raised one trembling arm and waved it at Nick. He gestured with his arm, letting her know that he wanted her to finish her swim. Her arms exhausted, Cassidy rolled onto her back and peddled to the shore. Nick was standing by the rock, holding the towel for her when she emerged from the water. “It’s cold,” he said, clipping his words. “Cover up.” “I’m eighteen, remember?” She took the towel and dried her face but didn’t wrap it around her body. “I don’t need to be reminded how old you are,” Nick said with an unfamiliar harshness. “Or of what I said earlier.” She bent and picked up her shorts and then tried to sidestep him but he blocked her. He reached out and ran a hand over her bare arm. “You’ve got goose bumps, Cash,” he said, his tone soft once again. “Cover up, for Chrissakes.” 61

Baby's Back His use of her childhood nickname made tears well up in her eyes and she wrapped the towel around her in habitual obedience. It was over a year since he had last called her Cash. Nick smiled and put an arm around her shoulder. “That’s my Cash baby,” he said. He half walked, half staggered with her like that back to the campfire. Nick plopped into the lawn chair and then reached under him, retrieving Cassidy’s T-shirt. She took it and went behind the Montero. She took the bikini top and bottom off and placed them flat on the hood before she dried off and put the T-shirt and shorts back on. Even with her skin dry, the T-shirt hugged her body, sensuously outlining the curve of her tits and the tips of her hard nipples. When she re-joined them at the campfire, Nick’s features darkened into a scowl and he took his windbreaker off, tossing it at her as he rose to get another beer from the cooler. “You want a pop?” he asked after taking a mouthful of the beer. Cassidy looked down at the five empty cans by his lawn chair and shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah,” she answered. To her right, Steve leaned over and handed her a coat hanger that had been straightened into a hot dog cooker. “No fish?” she asked and forced her expression wide in mock disbelief. “What kind of fishing trip is this?” Steve’s veiled gaze darted to where Nick was slowly falling asleep in the lawn chair. His mouth puckered thoughtfully as he listened to the deep breaths Nick was drawing. He stood, leaning over 62

Ann Vremont Cassidy to pluck the almost empty can from Nicky’s hands. The thick blond matting of hair that covered his legs brushed against her and she tightened her grip on the hanger. “Hot dogs Friday night, fried up fishes on Saturday and take-out on Sunday,” he explained. Nicky’s chair began to lean to one side and he stepped over Cassidy to shake her brother into a semi-wakeful state. “Into the sleeping bag with you,” he said and forced Nick into a standing position. Cassidy jumped up and unzipped the sleeping bag. She spread it open, her chest tightening as she watched Nick tumble into it. She took his shoes off and then his socks, stuffing the socks into his shoes in case any scorpion or centipede was brave enough to venture that close to the fire. Having performed the same services for their mother over the years, her movements were practiced and executed without emotion until she zipped the bag up and pushed the hair back from Nick’s face. In his sleep, he said her nickname, the alcohol giving the word the same lisp he had spoken with as a child. Cassidy turned back to the fire, her hand darting up to her face to wipe away a stray tear before Steve could see it. He was running her necklace of glass beads through his fingertips while he stared into the fire. “You can use my sleeping bag,” he offered after a long minute of silence. Cassidy looked at Nick. He was snoring softly and she knew from recent experience that the alcohol would keep him in a deep sleep for hours. Steve 63

Baby's Back would have to shake him awake if he wanted to fish at dawn. Her gaze drifted to back to Steve. He had pocketed the beads again and was staring at her. “Where are you going to sleep?” she asked. Her voice trembling with inexperience, she had to push the question out of her. Steve was the first to look away. He stared out at the lake, his mouth moving to form some answer that he was hesitant to deliver. “Cass…I…” He turned back to find her on her knees in front of him. The sides of the windbreaker had fallen back, exposing the thinly covered, ripe handful of breasts. Her nipples brushed against him and she moaned, arching her back while her hand snaked up his leg, entering the leg of his shorts to stroke his inner thigh. “I feel so lost, Steve,” she whispered when he moved to stop her hand. “Everything is changing…” He cleared his throat, his hand still covering hers through the denim shorts. “Cassidy, I’m twelve years older than you,” he reminded her. Cassidy shook her head, denying his logic. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Steve.” She pulled her hand from him and whipped the windbreaker off. The rose red circles of her nipples were visible in the firelight and Steve reached out to thumb one straining peak. He groaned as Cassidy arched her back again, filling his palm with her breast. He sank to his knees, joining her on the sand, and covered the nipple with his mouth, wetting the thin cotton barrier. His fingers found her other nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger until she was wriggling against him, moaning in ecstasy. 64

Ann Vremont When he broke from her, his eyes were glazed with heat. He nodded at his sleeping bag, his voice thick with need as he told her to take the bag down to the edge of the water. Her body protesting each step that took her farther from him, Cassidy complied. She spread the sleeping bag next to the flat rock she had found earlier and sank onto it. Her thighs were trembling and she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them while she listened to Steve rooting through the back of the Montero. Away from the firelight, it was dark and she couldn’t see what he carried with him from the vehicle. He sat it down next to him in the sand before reaching out to pull her T-shirt off. “God, baby girl,” he said and pushed her against the ground. “You’ve got such beautiful tits, baby.” He was kneading her breasts as he spoke, mixing little flicks of his tongue against her nipples with his words of admiration. He pulled her shorts from her and groaned at the downy triangle of pubic hair that glistened black in the moonlight. He pushed against her thighs, urging her to spread her legs for him. “Let me taste that pussy, baby girl,” he said and dipped his mouth to cup her pubic mound. Cassidy bucked against him and she felt his tongue part her labia. “Fuck me now, Steve,” she pleaded and curled her fingers tightly through his hair. “I want it to be you, I’ve wanted it for so long.” His breath was hot against her cunt as he broke the news to her that he didn’t have a condom with him. “Don’t worry, baby girl,” he promised. “I’m going to 65

Baby's Back make you feel so good. Your sweet little pussy isn’t going to miss a thing.” His tongue worked her clit, quickly bringing her to the brink of orgasm. She pushed against him, her voice anguished as he refused to fill her with his cock. Steve drew up even with her, his hands massaging her clit as she squirmed against him. He kissed her, covering her lips and tongue with her own juices. “Cassidy,” he warned. “Just because it’s the first time doesn’t mean you won’t get pregnant.” “I want you,” she pleaded. Her fingers worked his zipper down and closed around the shaft of his cock. She stroked it, her mouth parting in anticipation. “Haven’t we had to wait too long already?” she asked. Steve’s fingers left her clit and dipped into her pussy. Her honeyed cunt was dripping, lubricating his fingers with her arousal. He pushed in, coating them, and then withdrew to circle the tight hole below. “You really want my cock in you, baby girl?” he asked. Understanding his intent, Cassidy stiffened. She started to speak but could only stutter a weak protest. Steve continued teasing her asshole with his fingers while his thumb stroked the entrance to her cunt. She relaxed beneath him and drew close to orgasm once again. Steve stopped the shallow thrusts of his thumb inside her pussy and urged her onto her stomach. “Trust me, baby girl,” he said. “What I’m going to do to you, it’ll blow your mind.” Wanting his touch to continue, she softened 66

Ann Vremont beneath his caress, lifting her stomach as he bunched her clothes up and slid them beneath her. She heard the clink of glass against plastic and looked to the spot in the sand where he had placed something earlier. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she saw the vague outline of a white tube. Steve unscrewed the cap and ran the tip of the tube over her glass beads. “Shhh…” Steve coaxed as he felt her tense beneath him. “I’m going to make you come first, baby girl, get that tight ass all ready for my cock.” Cassidy gave a heated whimper and willed her tense muscles to stand down. Forcing her ass cheeks apart, Steve gently wiggled the first glass bead into her ass. He waited, stroking her pussy with one hand, until she unclenched her ass cheeks and then he inserted another bead. “Twenty more to go, baby girl,” he said. “Then I’m going to suck that pussy dry.” Cassidy raised her ass to meet the fingers that probed at her cunt and he slipped another two beads in. “I want you to tell me when you start to cum, baby girl. I want you to scream it out,” he said and quickly popped five more beads into her ass. The sensation of her muscles sucking the beads in only to try to spit them out a second later had her grinding against his hand. “The sooner we get these in, Cassidy…” “Yes,” Cassidy panted and pushed her ass higher. “Stick them in me, Steve.” Her voice was already loud and an uncontrollable tremor rumbled through it. His hand left her cunt to circle her asshole, pushing 67

Baby's Back the sides apart as he forced the remaining thirteen beads in. She bucked against his hand, mini-climaxes coating her pussy in another creamy wave. With the last bead in, Steve lowered his head and began eating her pussy from behind. His tongue pointed to a thick tip and he fucked her with it. Thrusting against the swollen entrance to her cunt, he attacked the bulb with his lips. With one hand still holding the only bead that wasn’t buried in her ass, he forced the other hand beneath her and rolled her clit between his thumb and fingers. Cassidy bounced against his mouth, her hands reaching out for some support and finding nothing. She bunched the edges of the sleeping bag up and buried her face into the nylon. “I’m cumming, Steve,” she screamed into the sleeping bag, her body pumping his face. “I’m cumming.” Continuing his mouth’s assault on her pussy, Steve pulled the beads from her ass one by one. She jerked as each bead left her, the tight entrance to her cunt constricting in time with the tightening of her anal sphincter. When the last bead popped free, Cassidy released a satisfied scream and collapsed against the ground. “You’re a natural, baby girl,” Steve said. His voice was thick with his own unanswered need. He reached beside him and uncapped the tube again. He pushed the gel out onto her still-quivering asshole, dipping his finger inside to allow more of the lubricant to enter. Then he coated his cock with it. “It’s going to be tight at first.” Steve’s warning had a wistful quality to it that had 68

Ann Vremont Cassidy eagerly reaching back to spread her ass cheeks for him. Her excitement was too fresh and, when the tip of his cock pressed against the opening, her body jerked in a new climax. Steve put his hands on her hips, forcing her to be still. His hands stretched wide, he pulled at the sides of the hole with his thumbs until his cum hole and the small area of skin surrounding it where covered by her flesh. He wiggled the tip against her, urging the muscles to part. “I’m going to make your pussy so jealous, baby girl,” he promised and shifted his weight against her. Cassidy let out a small whimper as the engorged head of his cock forced the ring of muscles guarding her ass to expand. The muscles stretched, angrily accommodating him and then snapped shut around the head. Steve’s fingers bit into her hips as he clamped down on his need to climax. Trapped by the exquisite clench of her ass, Steve moaned her name. “Sweet, sweet, Cass.” His hands played over her back, treating her to an impromptu massage. “You’re so fucking tight, baby girl.” He waited patiently for the walls of her ass canal to become accustomed to his swollen cock and then he pushed into her. She bucked against the long stroke he delivered to her insides. The thickness of his cock seemed to fill her ass and pussy at the same time, making her lightheaded with lust. “Yes, Steve, yes,” she groaned and began to grind against him. Steve started to thrust in and out of her. His balls slapped against her pussy and Cassidy began to make 69

Baby's Back small mewling sounds. Her cunt, near orgasm, pulsed and added its own rhythmic squeezing of Steve’s cock. His balls tightened, ready to shoot his cum into her tight little ass. “Are you loving this, baby,” he shouted as he rammed his cock into her. “You cumming for me, baby girl?” Her body melting into a pool of pleasure, Cassidy growled her answer at him. Steve grunted his approval and grabbed her hips, power pumping her ass while her orgasm swept through her. She felt his cock thicken and then pulse as his cum rolled in waves through his cock. She tightened the muscles between pussy and ass and rode the waves of his ejaculation. Spent, she let her body sink onto the ground in an exhausted heap. Still locked inside her, Steve rested on top of her, his weight burying his cock to new depths. Slowly, he pulled himself from her, a fresh ripple of pain spreading through her as the tip breached her ass in reverse. Steve rolled onto his side and urged Cassidy to lift her body long enough for him to wrap the sleeping bag around them. Inside, he folded her to him and kissed the back of her neck. She knew she needed to get up…to wash the evidence from her body before Nicky woke from his drunken stupor. She tried to move but Steve only drew her closer to him. “Shh…baby girl,” Steve whispered against her ear, his own voice sleep laced. “Go to sleep and dream of me.” Cassidy blinked once, tried to remember why she 70

Ann Vremont needed to get up. She couldn’t and her eyes closed a second time. Imagined lights danced against the inside of her eyelids, enchanting her into a worn but satisfied sleep.

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About the Author

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ho Ann Vremont is depends on which of her many personas you happen to ask. She’s a mother and wife, a licensed attorney, a high school dropout, and a former Russian linguist. She’s called bingo for a living, waitressed at a strip club, scooped ice cream, and conducted political surveys. Now, when she’s not working to pay off her student loans or spending time with her family, she can be found writing at that juncture where modern meets myth, playing with graphic art programs, or updating her web site (www.elfenwood.com) for her own personal amusement.