Apart from studying hard, I spend most of the time hanging around with my [...]]]> Newcastle University was great, away from home, meeting new people and being able to do what I wanted without having to justify everything in front of my parents. I enrolled in Business Management and enjoyed both my fellow students and the course.

Apart from studying hard, I spend most of the time hanging around with my friends at the student union or in one of the many bars in Town. Each Friday night most of the students went to the student union. It was always a hugh party with the large dance floor in the basement, the two bars on the ground floor and another dance floor on the top floor. Where as the basement was know for pop and house, the top floor offered a much more relaxing but also more exciting. The music was better, a much more interesting mix of various styles like industrial, dance and independent. I am not to much into music but I enjoyed it more upstairs, where the lightning wasn't so flashy and the girls more grown-up.

That particular Friday Dan, Mike and I walked first to the sports bar on the ground floor. After a couple of pints in town we got another round of lager before we decided to check the union out. As usual most students got completely drunk in the basement and we walked upstairs. At 11:30 it was still quiet and we found a table to sit down, listening to the music, talking and checking out the girls arriving. Most of them looked average but even though, most of them had a nice body and dressed sexy, either in tops and tight jeans or short skirts. Some of them even turned up in nearly see through tops. As every Friday it was a good show and by 12 the place was crowed. Most of the girls danced in small groups, surrounded by fellow students watching them.

I got up and walked to the bar, getting another round of lager when I saw Clair. Clair is a cute girl from our course, a bit smaller than I, about 5'5. Her body seemed to be perfect and her tight top covered some nicely shaped breasts. She smiled at me when she saw me and I made my way through the crowed to meet her.

"Hey Clair, how you're doing?"

"Fine Tom, and you?"

"I am great, just thirsty. I am getting another round. You want to join us?"

"Sure… I am waiting for Sandra, she should be here."

"Haven't seen her, Clair." I reply.

"She's late, as always."

She took my arm and we tried to get through to the bar. Pressing through the body's was difficult. Just two bartenders to serve maybe 20 people waiting and as soon as one person was leaving, he was replaced by two new students. Clair guided us the way through to the bar since girls always got some space, where as I was pressed and pushed all the time. Clair turned around to me and I saw her smile…

"We're nearly there… what you get?"

"Three pints of lager."

Clair turned around and took my hands and continued leading the way directly in front of the bar. I saw her great body in the tight beige jeans and the red tank-top, I saw the straps of the red bra, her neck, her short black hair. Something happened in the back of the students waiting at the bar. I got pushed against Clair violently, getting in contact with her body… but she just looked at me, took my arms around her waist, holding me and leaning against me. I was surprised but said nothing, instead enjoying the feeling of her body.

Than it was Clairs turn, she bend over the bar, talking to the Student who was working as a bartender. I have seen him a couple of times around the university but didn't knew him. While Clair bend over to order the drinks, I felt her pushing her bottom even stronger against me, right against my hips. I felt something awakening between my legs. Clair got the drinks, turned around with two beers in her hands.

"You gonna help me?"

I was a bit lost, a moment ago enjoying a nice erotic pressure and now being pushed back into reality…

"Sure…" was all I could say.

She took the other two pints and this time she followed me to the place Dan and Mike were waiting.

"It was about time, Tom, we already though of deploying a SAR-Team."

"Yeah… I am thirsty. What took you so long…?"

And than they realized Clair was there as well. Both had a big grin and made some space so Clair could join us. Enjoying our beers we mainly talked about your courses and whether we liked our choices, the other students and profs. A bit later Sandra arrived with another guy we didn't knew. Sandra didn't stay long but headed of to dance not fare from us. The guy had his eyes over Sandra's body. Sandra was a bit taller than Clair, about my size and had larger breasts. And judging how they bounced up and down while dancing Sandra didn't wear a bra.

"who's that guy with Sandra" Mike asked Clair.

"Some 3rd year. Studies Law, don't know him much." Sandra replied watching them closely.

"Always the same…" Dan said.

"What?" I asked him.

"3rd and 2nd years always get the great girls."

Sadly I let my eyes stray from Dan to Clair and realized she was watching me…

"Lets go dancing" she said, taking my hand and pushing me up.

We moved on the dance floor and started dancing. Clair stayed very close, touching me occasionally, dancing very erotic. We moved closer to Sandra and that guy. It seemed to me that Clair was up to something but I didn't knew what nor did I care… dancing with Clair was great and I just wanted to enjoy this experience. Clair didn't only get us closer to Sandra but she also dance much closer to me, contact wasn't occasionally anymore but constant and I felt how hard I got…

Clair started to embrace me, I felt her breath on my neck and the bulge in my jeans pressing against her body. While dancing even closer, while feeling my erection growing, her lips touched my ears… some air was blown over my skin, it felt like electricity. Soon she started bitting and moaning softly in my ear while I had the feeling that an orkan was storming through my body and that my manhood would rip the jeans apart. The lack of space was uncomfortable but this strong erotic feeling… I didn't want to miss this, didn't want to stop.

The song stopped and Clair used to short break to look in my eyes. I felt electrified and had the urge to kiss her. However, the decision was taken from me… Clair kissed me softly… I looked again in her eyes and this time it wasn't a soft kiss but we looked our mouths, our tongues played with each other. ages passed… I don't know how long we kissed but Clair broke the kiss and dragged me to the door. Seems like she wanted to leave and I was already looking forward…

I followed Clair but she turned left into the first floor instead of continuing the way down to the basement where the cloakroom is…

"Lets find a place…"

"W…h.." I tried to say.

"Shhht" Clair said, killing anything I tried to say with a wet kiss… She grabbed my jeans and dragged me to one of the conference rooms in the side wing of the student union.

"Guess we won't be disturbed here." Clair sad, pushing me in this anonymous room and closing the door behind us. Apart from the streetlight which entered through the windows the room was empty apart from 4 large basic tables in the center and 12 chairs grouped around them. The walls were covered with some posters and a notice board. Nothing personal…

"Tom…" Clair said, looking at me. Somehow her voice sounded shy, insecure…

I walked up to her and took her in my arms. I felt her arms around me, her soft kiss against my throat and than she broke contact. Chris moved backwards to the table and took of her top and let it fall to the floor. I saw her in her bra, even though it was to dark to see the color I knew it was red. I followed her, we kissed again while my hands moved softly over her back…

Clair pushed my t-shirt up, we had to break our kiss so she could push it over my head. She pushed me a bit back and opened the buttons of my jeans, pushing them together with my boxer down. She dropped down on her knees and I felt the soft touch of her lips… it was so exiting, I though it was a dream and suddenly I will wake up alone in bed.

But instead of waking up I felt Clair softly liking my hard shaft, I felt the tip of her tongue gliding over my hot flesh leaving a soft wet track. It was great, I just couldn't believe it that she was giving me a blow job in the student union. I felt so hot, so excited and the energy waves raced through my body, the soft pressure in my balls. I knew if she continued like that I would explode shortly.

I took her shoulders and pushed her up. It was to dark to really look in her eyes. I felt like saying something but instead I kissed her on her lips, just to feel that her tongue tried to find a way between my lips to great me. I opened my mouth and our kiss was looked again.

I was standing nude, the jeans around my ankle in front of Clair… but I didn't care. I enjoyed her touches, her fingertips gliding over my back, her tongue playing with mine. I broke the Kiss and tried to step one step back but I fell over my own jeans hanging around my feet. Clair started to laugh loudly.

"Shhht Clair, someone will hear us."

"That's so funny Tom…"

"What?"

"You falling down…"

"You're making fun of me?" I said pretending to be insulted.

Clair came next to me… I saw up her legs as she stood there… Clair reached to her back and opened her bra, dropping it on my body. She slipped out of her shoes and started opening her jeans slowly…

"You… you're…?"

Clair stepped out of her jeans and let it drop next to us. She got down and kissed me and if felt her hand reaching for my hard dick. She turned around and started softly sucking my head again. Her hot, wet and soft lips felt so good. I touched her and I was nearly able to kiss her legs. I turned and started licking and kissing her soft skin. Clair moved over my head, spreading her legs… she lowered herself and I could smell her sex, touch it with my nose, feel the heat… I pushed my head up… touched her with my tongue… I felt a shiver as my tongue made first contact with her sex… it was wet…

I couldn't believe it, we were here, nude, sucking and licking each other. If someone would enter… I did not care, this was better than the dirtiest dreams and sexiest fantasies I had so fare.

She lowered her even more, pressing her sex on my mouth. I felt her soft hair, my nose touched her inner lips, it was wet… I let my tongue explore her womanhood, feeling the lips, feeling her slit, touching the outer side of the deep tunnel… it was so hot, so wet, so good.

Clair got up and turned around, she bend over and we kissed. Her hand was touching down her legs, taking my dick and placing the head softly between her wet lips. I felt her softness and slowly she pressed herself on my phallus. I was feeling this wet tight, hot passage which my flesh penetrated and it was feeling so good. I let out a soft moan… I touched her tits and started to play with her hard nipples. She was riding me softly crazy…

"Ahhh…" Clair moaned softly…

I was breathing loudly… I didn't know how long we making love on the floor but I felt the pressure building up…

"I…. i'mmm…."

Clair cut me of again with a deep kiss and her moves became faster as her tongue penetrated my mouth while she rocked faster and faster on my dick. I felt my balls tighten under her pumping, I felt my juices racing through my body while waves were pulsing from my head through the stomach into my hips. I was shacking when I felt my orgasm building up. Than I just exploded deep in her… letting out a load moan… while Clair still kissed me and continued riding me.

She came slowly to a stop, we were just holding each other while I tried to recover. I felt my penis shrinking deep in her. She was so wet…

"Lets go."

"Back?"

"No…" Clair sad… "where ever you want."

We dressed and walked hand in hand back to the corridor. It was 1:30 and the people were still dancing. We walked down to the basement and got our jackets. Hand in Hand we walked slowly back to our halls of residence. We walked past Security to our Tower. Clair was living on the 7th floor where as my room was on the 3rd floor.

"It's up 4 more floors, mine or yours Tom…?" Clair asked me… "mine got a nice view in the morning, we can see the sun rising."

"Lets get up another 4 flours" I day with a smile.

"If you can wait so long?"

We kissed and I felt her hands on my jeans again. She pushed me down on the stairs and she opened the buttons, pushing down the jeans and slowly taking my soft dick in her mouth. She slowly sucked my, while I rested, softly stroking her hair.

I felt my dick harden again, it was so good. Suddenly we heard a door, than steps, someone was walking up the stairs.

"Clair?" I asked her…

"hmmm" was all I heard… Clair continued sucking me but faster. I felt my head pressing against her throat. She was moving faster, taking me deeper, I felt her tongue under under my shaft, her hands playing with my balls…

The person came closer.. but the steps weren't fast…

"Clair.. h… hurrry…" I moaned while feeling the pleasure of her mouth but being afraid of someone catching us.

The steps came closer… soon that person would stand in front of us, seeing Clair in front of me, giving me a blow job. But this feeling made me even more excited, the feeling, the idea someone could walk into us… and I exploded.

Clair was sucking my juices. I pushed her gentle away and got up. Clair helped me closing the buttons and we kissed deeply tasting my seed. When the person we heard all the time coming nearer, passed us, Clair jiggled like a small kid. It was a fellow student, completely drunk, dragging himself up the stairs. I looked at Clair and saw some of my creamy milk flowing down her cheeks. I kissed it away and we walked the stairs up to her room…

Closing the door behind us, we pulled of our clothes as fast as possible. Clair guided me to her bed and she spread her long legs wide. I moved down between her legs, kissing the inside, moving up slowly to her wide open lips, still wet of my cream I left there when we loved us the first time.

I moved up to her fruit, touching it softly, parting her lips and searching her clit… finding it in the wet depths, hard… I touched it softly with the tip of my tongue.

"Ahhhaaa" Clair moaned loudly…

I touched her clit with the top of my tongue, licking it, feeling her shiffer even stronger…

"Ouahhh… Toahhhh… hhhmmm…. Ahhh!"

Clair pressed her sex against my face… I started sucking her clit. Placed my lips softly around it, sucked the small hard clit…

"Ahhhaaa…"

I sucked harder and than let my tongue glide down into the wet depths of her passion. Clair moaned louder…

"Tomm…"

I stop licking her, looking up in her eyes.

"Fuuuck meee pleeease…"

I moved up, turned her around and Clair kneed down on her knees in front of me. I moved behind her, inserting my hard phallus in her wet tunnel, thrusting in and out of her while she moaned loudly. She was so wet and I hardly felt any friction. I felt just her wetness, her hot fluids coating my hard dick deep in her. It felt good and I enjoyed how she moved her hips against my body, how her buttocks rocked against me, pressing me even deeper in her… I hold her bottom in my hand, massaging her firm ass, letting my thumbs circle over the soft skin while I pumped her. Soon I felt my fluids rising again but Clair started to shiver, to shout, to spasm while she trusted her hard against me. I felt my juice shooting through my body when she was shaken by her climax. I pumped my cum in her while she collapsed on the bed and I fell on top of her…

I woke up the next morning, I felt naked, I was naked… I saw a naked body next to me, the back of a woman with short brown hair. It wasn't a dream… and I felt my dick coming to life. I moved a bit nearer and but my arms around Clair, pressing my body softly against her back. I felt my dick reacting to the contact of her warm skin. Getting harder it rubbed against Clairs buttocks. It felt good…

Clair seemed to enjoy it in her sleep, it seemed like her body reacted to my touches, to my rubbing. Her buttocks moved against my dick or did I press myself so hard against her? I don't know but it seemed like she started rocking herself against my hardness and I got harder. I pressed her body harder against mine, I felt her back pressing against my chest and I felt my dick between her legs rubbing up her bottom. The heat seemed to increase, my pleasure was rising and I started to rub my hardness against between her valley between her buttocks. I kissed softly her neck when I felt her hands gliding softly over my hips. Soft moans escaped her half closed lips when I
pressed my shaft deeper…

It felt so good, it happened like two pieces just fitted together. My head pressed against her rosette and Clair pressed softly against my dick. Slowly she pressed herself on my shaft, my helmet entered her first…

"Ahhhaaa… ahhhaaa…"

"Shooot… I… stooo… stop? I asked her moaning…

"Nooo… juuust fuuuck… meee slooow… slooowlyyy…"

I thrusted gently deeper and I was overwhelmed by the heat, by this tightness. it was so dry, so hot, so intense.

"Ahhhaaa… haaa… haaa… ahhh! Clair pressed herself even harder against me… she seemed to shiffer, to bent, like a cat.

Somehow I was gliding, thrusting deep in her and suddenly I was in, letting out a load moan.

Clair shouted her moan out load as well… pressing herself on my shaft, burying me deep in her ass.

"Ahhhaaa…!

Clair collapsed, pressed against me, in my arms, my cock in her anus… we both relaxed feeling my hardness deep in her.

"Its so intense Tom…" she softly moaned…

"So hot, so hard…"

"Tom, take me…" Clair moaned… "cum in me"

She twisted her body, our mouths meet and while we kissed we started rocking again. Slowly and than faster, each stroke increased the pace. Soon I was thrusting into Clair and she moved against my body, i felt the energy building up in me, so differently… instead of the silky, wet and hot portal a very tight and hot tunnel… it was too much for me and I exploded instantly…

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A hundred bucks buys ten minutes. Upon payment approval, the [...]]]> It's a hundred dollars to use the sex machine in the public restroom. Insert a couple of fifty-dollar coins into the payment slot to remain anonymous, though of course it's more convenient to just let the data terminal do a neural scan and auto-debit your account.

A hundred bucks buys ten minutes. Upon payment approval, the mirror slides back, revealing an oval opening. Depending on the option chosen, the window gives access to either bare buttocks or an erect penis. That leaves the customer the choice of either penetrating or being penetrated.

I'm pretty conventional in my preferences, so I usually choose BUTTOCKS-FEMALE, and, depending on my mood at the moment, insert my hard flesh either into the exposed pussy or asshole. Every once in a while, I get an itch deep inside my gut and touch the selector for PENIS-(LARGE). Then I give in to my deepest, darkest desires and scratch that damn itch by easing myself down on a hard cock.

There's also the BUTTOCKS-MALE option for those preferring to fuck male ass. I've indulged in that often enough, but still find little difference between the sensation of being inside a male or a female ass. Real connoisseurs, though, claim that plundering a man's ass is the caviar of sex. Active-penetrative sex, anyway. That's probably somewhat of an exaggeration.

I stepped onto the Mu-metal platform and fed the last of my carefully hoarded spare change into the slot. I prefer the anonymity that cold, hard cash gives, and anyhow my e-bucks account has been flat-lining lately. Being jobless does have its disadvantages.

The auto-sensing hydraulics adjusted my elevation to optimal height opposite the service window. This puts the customer's groin (or ass) directly opposite the the opening. What would I choose this time?

Well, why not? Since I was now flat broke, I might as well have caviar. I stroked the keypad and the window gave me access to a perfect ass.

Slowly, reluctantly I withdrew out of that buttery-smooth, pleasure-giving orifice. Caviar indeed! I was still horny and ready for another go, but my time was up. And I had other concerns. Such as where my next meal would come from and where I was going to sleep tonight. I girded my loins, drew on my breathing mask, and steeled myself to step out into the cold, heartless night.

I had to admit it — I was an addict. A sex addict. I was no damn good at all at relating to real people, so that pretty much left the sex machines for physical release. And an unfortunate side-effect of being such a boob in social situations was that I couldn't hold down a job for very long. If there's anything more pitiful than a sex addict, it's got to be a friendless, jobless, *flat broke* sex addict.

I was about to go cry in my beer — if I could scrounge together enough for a beer, that is — when I caught the flashing notice on the sex machine display screen.

NOW HIRING. Sex Machines, Inc. [SM, Inc.] has openings for Customer Service associates. Earn a good wage doing something you enjoy! Choose your own hours. No experience necessary. Just enter code SEXYY%543 to start an EXCITING and GLAMOROUS new career.

Customer service? I guess you might call it that, since it *did* involve "servicing customers." It had a much nicer ring to it than prostitution. Still, it was an intriguing notion, all the more so since I didn't have a hell of a lot of options.

I spent an hour filling out questionnaires on an ancient vintage input terminal in the potted-palm studded lobby of the SM, Inc. Tower. My employment history, references, general state of health, and sexuality index — all the usual stuff. Though why did they need to access my genetic and psychometric profiles? It wasn't as if I were applying for a high-level security position, after all. But since I was hardly in a position to play stubborn, I thumb-printed the waivers.

The terminal printed out a visitor's pass. I was to report to room 13703. Hoowhee, the one hundred thirty-seventh floor. Moving up in the world, I was.

"Kindly step into the testing lounge, sir," the receptionist said. She was a cute little package, a tiny blonde with curves in all the right places. Her eyes were icy steel marbles.

The door clicked shut behind me. The only furniture in the room was a padded mechano-table with restraint devices at each corner. There was a very tall woman standing on the far side of it. She looked at me. Her eyes widened momentarily as if she knew me from somewhere, but I couldn't tell for sure.

"You are . . . Armin?"

I nodded.

"I am the regional SM staff supervisor and your examiner. You may address me as Galatea. Kindly undress. Completely." Her voice was unyielding as granite.

"Come here. Spread your legs." She took my genitals in her hand and palpated them for what seemed like hours. Her touch was cold.

"Turn around. Bend over with hands on knees, and spread your legs. Keep perfectly still." I felt her probing between my ass cheeks, then something cool and slippery was being inserted into me.

"It's only a finger. Stop squirming! Now get up on the table and lie down. Please. Flat on your stomach. Spread-eagle your arms and legs."

Galatea took my left arm by the wrist and began fastening a strap around it. "Hey, what's going on?" I croaked.

"I am securing your arms and legs for the next phase of the examination. So, how badly do you need this job?"

"Badly, Staff Supervisor Galatea," I said, and I extended my other arm for her to buckle.

"This shouldn't be too unpleasant," she said. "It's only a proctoscope. A colonoscopy is mandatory for all our candidates for customer service positions."

It didn't hurt going in. I've probably had thicker cocks up my ass. But she just kept on pushing it in, higher and higher up into my gut. It must have been a couple of feet deep and it kept going in!

"Excuse me, Supervisor. It feels like you're a plumber trying to unclog a stopped-up drain. Geez, you're using that thing like a Roto Rooter. Ahhh!"

"Oh, hush. It's not half as bad as that. We're required to examine the bottom foot and a half of your rectum and lower colon. You'll be pleased to know that your intestines pass muster. You'll do just fine."

Now I could feel that monstrous metal snake snaking its way out of me. Good thing it was lubed up or it would have pulled my guts right back out of my asshole. Funny thing, though. I had sort of enjoyed the experience. In fact, I had a raging hardon.

"Uh, excuse me, but what exactly were you looking for inside me?"

"Abnormalities and malformations, of course. But the purpose of the exam is to judge whether your rectum is suitable for intercourse . . . anal intercourse, that is. With a bit of conditioning, you'll do just fine in that area."

"Conditioning, Supervisor?"

"Yes. Shall we begin?"

"Well . . . "

"Climb up on the table again, my good man. This time on your back. Now raise up your legs, one at a time, and place them into the stirrups."

Stirrups? Her voice-command had transformed the examination table into something that would have been right at home in a gynecologist's office.

Galatea buckled my legs with the restraints, then my arms.

The bottom half of the table tilted upward, exposing my naked crotch and bottom. I felt totally vulnerable.

"This won't hurt a bit," she said.

She had pulled on a latex gloves and was reaching toward me. I felt an intense freezing shock as she sprayed something on my crotch area.

"A local anesthetic," she said. I'm going to insert a Sta-Hard implant beneath the skin of the scrotum. That will enhance your work performance."

I'd heard of those things. The implants consist of a sub-miniaturized electronic module that controls blood flow and nerve impulse propagation to the penis. They make it possible to sustain an erection for hours at a time.

I saw the flash of a excimer-laser scalpel, but didn't feel a thing. I was beginning to get drowsy.

I startled awake as she came back into the room. She had left me there, with my legs in the stirrups and my ass hanging out while the surgical adhesive set on the incision.

"Now we'll work on your anterior sex organ," she said.

She disrobed and I couldn't help admiring her full breasts, the nicely rounded hips and upholstered posterior of a classically voluptuous woman, and . . . and . . . her majestic erect cock.

An Androgyn, that's what she was. Hermaphrodites had for ages been a medical curiosity, but only recently has the Ragosin Procedure made it possible to support fully functional sets of *both* genders' sex organs in the same gen-mod body.

I'd never seen a cock that big. Nine or ten inches long and a couple of inches wide, it must have been. Pale, almost platinum in color. Of course — it had been force-grown from a stem cell culture. And she was rubbing something glistening and creamy on it. Syntholube.

"The purpose of what comes next is to condition and train your sphincter and rectum for the requirements of a Sex Machine operative. Depending on the assignment, you may be required to have anal intercourse a dozen or more times in a single four-hour work session. Shall we begin?"

"I'm ready if you are."

Of course, I was familiar with the techniques for relaxing the anal sphincter. Most everyone nowadays is bisexual if not outright reverse polarized, and anal sex between males is no big deal, unlike in the bad old days before the Anti-Reproduction Directives. I had already been sodomized more times than I could count, just not by a woman's equipment.

She slowly inserted herself into me, an inch at a time. With my legs strapped in the stirrups and my wrists pinioned by restraints, all I could do was let my abdominal and sphincter muscles go slack while I breathed in the prescribed rhythm and let her ass-fuck me.

Her groin pressed tight against my upraised buttocks now. She was all the way inside me and I felt no discomfort. She looked into my eyes and smiled. "Stage two," she said.

I felt myself gradually stretch open sideways. Damned if it didn't feel like the cock inside me was getting thicker.

"This is something newly out of our research labs," she said. "It's an expanding cock. I can widen it from its normally erect two-inch diameter to four inches. And lengthen it correspondingly."

I could feel the depth of penetration increase as the cock within me swelled up. Deeper and wider. That cock of hers was a damned sight better than my own equipment. One of these days I'd have to ask if I could be retrofitted with one of those.

"Variable width and length — that creates some intriguing possibilities, wouldn't you say?" She chuckled, and I felt her cock shrink down inside me. Then it ballooned up again. Then . . . she was rhythmically *pulsing* it — bigger, smaller, bigger . . . It was like a heartbeat down there, inside my ass. My gut was booming like an echo chamber.

I would have come a dozen times by now, but the Sta-Hard implant wouldn't let me. I was painfully hard and the pressure was building up inside me. I felt like screaming . . .

And once more she smiled. "I'll have mercy on you. I can remotely trigger your implant to give you release, but first . . . "

I felt the throbbing inside me quicken as she swelled up to maximum size. There was a cold wetness deep in my gut. She was spurting into me. Her orgasm, or what? Then I felt the electricity.

She was juicing me with an Electrovibe. It was shooting low-frequency AC current straight up my gut, and that tipped me over the edge. Now I was helplessly releasing my own ejaculate in gluey streams over my abdomen and chest. I moaned as we orgasmed together.

As she pulled out of me, a thick milky fluid began seeping out of my ass. It smelled faintly of lavender and honey.

"Yes," she said. "My ejaculate is specially formulated to act as an antiseptic and anti-abrasive coating inside you. It prevents disease and soft-tissue injury, and also increases the elasticity of the intestinal lining. It's scented to neutralize the fecal smell that all too often hangs in the air after anal sex. In short, it makes your ass eminently fuckable."

I had also heard rumors that Androgen come had life-extending properties, but I was afraid to ask about that.

"We'll provide you with an applicator bottle of the solution to use on a daily basis. Think of it as an extra benefit of working for SM, Inc. Oh, you lucky fellow!"

The first day on the job took a lot out of me. They had assigned me to the machine in the co-ed restroom in the municipal airport lounge. Encased in a Neuromesh bodysuit that reminded me of a wire-frame drawing of an Iron Maiden, I was ready for action. This metal lattice body-cage thing connected me both mechanically and electrically to the sex machine, and it would flex me into various postures and configurations, depending on the customer's preferences. It would also monitor my nerve impulses, control and stabilize my emotions, and tend to my personal needs. Shunts hooked up to the bloodstream, kidneys, and liver would remove waste and pump nutrients and stimulants into me. Plugged in and networked, I had become a peripheral node of the sex machine.

Things got busy after the first half hour. I ended my four-hour shift having serviced three women and eleven men. One woman couldn't get enough of riding my cock. Had to scratch the itch in her pussy and asshole both. Three consecutive sessions she bought. Then there was the guy with the inexhaustible cock. A typical day's work, I was told.

All in all I made sixteen hundred bucks that day for the company. My cut of that was one-third, less deductions, of course.

The inside of my ass felt a teeny bit raw, but the squeeze bottle of anti-abrasive solution took care of it. No major problems in the front equipment, except that my balls ached mightily. Ached from unrequited lust. I hadn't been able to orgasm because of the implant. Well, Supervisor Galatea had told me that if it became intolerable, to report back to the office for followup "treatment." I thought it was time to find out what that meant.

It meant being ass-fucked by her platinum pulsating cock and getting another jolt of electricity from the Electrovibe. Well, that fixed me up quite nicely. I got that elusive physical release, and got my rectum reconditioned while I was at it. Had a thoroughly cleansing bowel movement afterwards. Got my ashes hauled and got cleaned out, too. Just one more little benefit of working for SM, Inc.

I settled into the routine. Three days on, at four hours per, then two days off. My average take-home was about $1800 a week, considerably better than my old job as a welder on a construction site. And, I didn't even need goggles.

Isn't it every guy's dream to get paid for doing what you enjoy? I used to enjoy sex. I used to enjoy fucking and being fucked. Hell, I still do. Mostly. But after a couple of months of doing it fifty times a week, it became just one more boring job.

It had been years since I was in anything resembling a relationship. I'm shy around people and opening myself up to them is like pulling the scab off a badly-healed wound. Anonymous sex was easier — and safer — and that's probably why I got into the sex machine habit in the first place. But being an SM Inc. Customer Service Specialist — what they used to call a "whore" in the bad old days — was probably the ultimate in depersonalized sex. I began realizing what was missing from my life.

Touch. Simple human touch. And by that I don't mean body parts mingling and interpenetrating. I mean *lives* mingling and interpenetrating. Talking. Hugging. Kissing. Sharing with a partner what happened to you at work. Experiencing laughter and tears together. Living through joys and hardships together. Maybe raising a couple of kids. Walking the dog. Barbecuing in the back yard. Having the neighbors over. Sure, sleeping together. But also waking up next to each other.

What was wrong with me? I was staring to yearn for an old-fashioned marriage. Something like in the ancient sitcoms from the 1950's that they sometimes show down at the Retro Visual-Media Museum. Sheesh! Manning that damned sex machine was demultiplexing my cognitive nodes.

I had started confiding in Galatea. She was a patient listener, and her manner toward me had softened considerably. I think she was starting to actually loosen up toward me a bit, and she had even let slip a couple of times what a cute ass I had. Sometimes she seemed to have trouble prying herself loose from that cute ass of mine. . . . Lately our sessions had been lasting considerably longer than the allotted 45 minutes.

What was even more odd, she had begun showing signs of jealousy. *Jealousy*. She seemed to resent that, as an SM employee, my body was accessible to any stranger who could pay for it. Anyone with $100 to their name was entitled to stick their cock up my ass. *My ass*. The ass she was starting to get proprietary feelings toward.

When I last time saw her — I no longer thought of it as being therapied and readjusted — I had been sure she'd been about to tell me something. When I left, there was extra warmth in the goodbye kiss she gave me, and there was something shiny in her eye that might just have been a tear. Now what could that have been all about?

"Armin, I don't know how . . . how to say this."

"Teeya, I think I know . . . "

"These feeling I've been having, I can't . . . no, I don't want to . . . I have to . . .

"I care, Armin. I care for you more than I care for my own life. From the first time I saw your face, I somehow knew . . . knew that you were my destiny.

"I'm betraying everything I once valued. My loyalty to my chosen profession, the oath I gave to SM and their bloody-minded Directorate, my friends and colleagues, my clan group . . . everything. I . . . I . . . let me say it. I love . . . I love you, Armin. I love you more than myself, more than life itself. Because by telling you this I'm killing . . . killing myself, committing professional suicide, condemning myself to death or worse. SM will destroy me for this. But I love. I love. You. I love you!"

I took her in my arms and we cried together, and our tears mingled.

And that put us on the road leading to damnation and ruin — or to salvation.

"Our civilization is doomed, you know," she told me.

"Doomed has an ominous ring to it, Teeya."

"Doomed. It's been years since you could breath the outside air without a filter, the oceans are poisoned, the only way to grow crops is under glass in a culture of artificial nutrients, and epidemics of antiexinic-resistant strains of bacteria kill hundreds of thousands every day. It's only a matter of time before the entire social structure collapses. And there isn't much time."

"If things have gotten to that point, then I don't know that there's much that anyone can do about it. Let's love each other and make the most of the little time we have left, then."

"Sorry, Armin, no. I'm not the type of person to give up without a fight. I grew up in a shantytown wondering each day if I'd survive til nightfall, and I struggled and clawed myself up from poverty and somehow got an education and a decent profession and a secure place in society. And, you know, if I could manage that, I'm not about to surrender to fate now. And, damn it, I won't let *you* give up and die either!"

"So, what do you have in mind?"

"You'll think this is crazy, but . . . "

It turned out that SM had its own in-house R & D department, complete with resident "mad scientist," a certain Dr. Bezumna Morozov. Her brainchild, Project Blueskies, was investigating what happened to matter compressed to superdensity, beyond the theoretical limits allowed by the laws of physics. She had tried embedding a small capsule of isotope iron, Fe-57, inside a sphere of powerful shaped-charge explosive. The implosive force had been calculated to be sufficient to create a miniature black hole, a tear in the fabric of space. The iron capsule had disappeared in a violent burst of gamma rays. Vaporized? Or pushed into an entirely different physical dimension?

Some intriguing evidence indicated that the object might have traveled backwards in time. The equations hinted at this possibility, and Dr. Morozov had, in fact, found something that looked like it could have been a small iron object, embedded in a nearby table top. Tests confirmed that it was the rare atomic weight 57 isotope of iron and it had about a month's accumulation of rust on it. Had it traveled a month into the past?

Then there was the experiment by Dr. Morozov's colleague, Professor Flatus. He had placed a pair of specially bred albino roaches within a hollow iron-57 sphere, then inserted that into the detonation chamber. The implosion had made sphere and roaches disappear. Those particular roaches had never been seen again, but there were 20-year-old records of a nasty infestation of white roaches in the building that had previously been on the site of the laboratory. Were these the offspring of time-traveling roaches?

"And you say they're asking for human volunteers now, Teeya? HUMANS? It's *beyond* crazy! It's a suicide mission."

"They're desperate. The company Directorate has decided to cut off funding for the project. And there's something else — "

"The more I hear, the wackier it gets. Well, go on, woman, tell me more."

"I've told you we're living on borrowed time. What I haven't mentioned is just how little time we have left."

"How much?"

"Two months. That's the best estimate that SM's sociometrists can come up with. In just a couple of months this entire hemisphere will lie in ruins, destroyed and abandoned, and ninety percent of the population will be dead. For all practical purposes, it will be the end of the world."

It's dark in here in this hollow iron-57 shell. Absolute, total, mind-shattering darkness. But I can feel Teeya behind me, curled tightly around me, holding me in her embrace . . . and I can feel her cock deeply embedded in my cunt.

Cunt? Oh, yes, I'm a woman now, and Teeya's a man. Where we're going, sexual polymorphism hasn't been invented yet, so we had to make some adjustments. We both underwent radical gender reassignment surgery, the complete Ragosin Procedure, all the way down to the chromosomal level. Galatea — he wants to be called Galen now for reasons I'll go into later — is now fully capable of fathering children, and I, Carmina, am fully capable of being impregnated and bearing them. In fact, at this very moment I'm carrying twin embryos in my uterus, a boy and a girl. Our children.

Where *are* we going? As best as Dr. Morozov can determine, we're aiming for the early Eisenhower era, traveling backwards about eighty years in time. If everything goes as planned, Galen and I will end up at these exact spatial coordinates, where the sub-basement of the SM Tower exists in the here-and-now, but what used to be a residential town dotted with what were called "tract houses." Levittown, New York, circa 1953.

So here we are. In just a few moments, multiple shaped charges of mini-thermonukes will implode this iron sphere, with us in it, down to the diameter of a neutron. We'll collapse into a black hole and hopefully pop out into another era. I would never have let Galen talk me into it, but . . . for that ring.

Galen's great-great-grandfather had passed down a golden ring as a family heirloom. The ring was sculpted in the shape of a snake biting its own tail — actually swallowing itself. It was the worm Ouroboros, the World Serpent, the leviathan with no beginning and no end. Engraved on the inside of the ring was: "The future lies in the past."

Galen's great-great-grandfather happened to be named Galen, too. Hence Galatea's choice of of a male name and identity to assume. I can't help wondering, though, whether Galen is thinking of becoming his own ancestor and starting the whole cycle that led to us being here in this iron ball.

Any minute now. I'm scared –

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After living together for a year, the relationship was spiraling down [...]]]> We were making love maybe twice a month. "The problem," Joanne had once said to me, "is that you're just too damn unimaginative. Has it ever occurred to you that there might be more to lovemaking than just kissing my breasts and climbing on top?"

After living together for a year, the relationship was spiraling down into the doldrums. Jo wasn't even my type physically — I like 'em big, blonde, and curvy and she's a petite brunette. We didn't have much else in common either. We weren't even talking much. In short, we were just plain bored with each other.

One evening she brought home one of those weirdo magazines that they sell under the counter. I had never heard of "Swinging Couples" before, but we ended up poring over it for hours.

We placed an an ad there.

MF twosome in their mid 30's seek same or older to explore the swinging lifestyle. Adventuresome, willing to travel, willing to try new ways of expressing affection. We are both bi-curious.

An even dozen replies came in the mail, about half of which we classified as possibles.

After a few exchanges of letters and numerous phone conversations, we narrowed it down to two couples, then one.

Marv and Winnie Burton were intelligent people in their mid 50's. They lived in western Texas. He was a retired civil engineer and she a registered nurse. They were RV people, spending at least a couple of months of each year on the road. We agreed to meet.

On an evening several weeks later, the phone rang, and it was Winnie, telling me to expect them at our door momentarily. A half hour later, there was a throaty rumble outside as a huge vehicle painstakingly maneuvered into three adjacent vacant spaces of our apartment building's parking lot. At first I thought it was a bus, but Jo, laughing and nudging me, asked if I had never seen a mobile home before.

Winnie was a very tall, plump woman, with graying blonde hair. Her husband was couple of inches shorter, maybe 5'9", and a well-muscled flannel-shirt-and-hiking-boots outdoorsy type. We sat around talking while Jo whipped together some light snacks and got out the fondue cooker.

It was getting on toward midnight, and by then all four of us knew we could stand each other's company without discomfort. We were socially compatible, but now what? The conversation wound down, then stopped.

Jo broke the silence. "I'd like to spend the night with Marv, if he's willing." She smiled shyly at me. "Cal, could you possibly work something out with Winnie, if she's agreeable?"

She was.

Marv stayed in the apartment with Jo while I accompanied Winnie down to to their parked RV.

"This is a 26-footer, Cal. It's fairly small, as such things go, but it has most of the amenities of home. I'd be happy to show you. Step right on up."

Such a luminous smile she had, there under the stars and the orange sodium-arc lights. I followed her bouncy round ass up the metal steps.

She switched on the interior lights. "It's battery power when the engine's not running," she explained. With a distinct click, she bolted the door behind us. Down the aisle, in the very back, was a fancy-looking queen-size bed.

Her cool hand on my forehead momentarily startled me. "You're very tense," she said. "I know just what you need to relax. As a nurse, I'm professionally knowledgeable about such things. While I freshen up, you can take your clothes off and make yourself comfortable on the bed."

I was nervous, all right, but I undressed down to T-shirt and Jockey shorts. My feet ached from a long day at work, and that bed sure did look inviting. I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes.

"Wake up, sleepy head."

She was standing at the foot of the bed, smiling and holding something aloft. I recognized it, all right. It was an old-fashioned red rubber enema bottle.

"This is just what you need to unwind," she said, and winked. "I don't know if you've ever had an enema, but it can be a very soothing and enjoyable experience. And, after that, we can proceed to other matters, if you're up to it." That endearing smile again. Marv was a lucky man, all right. Maybe it was my turn to get lucky tonight. I smiled back.

She pulled back the covers and I tensed up involuntarily. "Oho, you're a little shy. No need for that. I'm a nurse, remember? Roll over on your tummy and put yourself in my professional care."

Lying face-down, I felt her gently slide my underwear down past my knees, then all the way off. She was caressing, then massaging my buttocks.

"A very nicely shaped little butt you've got on you, sir. We'll be cleansing the interior of that particular part of your anatomy momentarily. You're a beginner at this, so we'll start off nice and easy. You'll only get a quart this time. Just relax."

My buttocks were feeling nice and warm and loose by now. I loved the feel of her strong capable hands on them. Now she was lightly stroking between the cheeks, and I felt something cold and moist at the entrance to my anus.

"Just a little lubricant to let the nozzle slip in more easily. Ready now?" Her voice had gotten a little hoarse. Or was that an undertone of excitement?

"Carry on, nurse."

I felt a slight pressure, then something slid into me. A gush of liquid warmth spread through my insides, then there was a gradually building feeling of fullness. Somehow, in the midst of all this, I had gotten a solid hardon. Funny thing, that. I wasn't sure whether to be proud or embarrassed.

"Let me know if I should stop. If it gets unpleasant or painful, I can cut off the flow." Her soft reassuring voice came from above and behind me.

I was starting to feel unpleasantly full, as if something were blowing up my lower guts like a balloon. Manfully, I tried to hold out.

"Almost there. Just a little more cleansing water into you. You're a brave little boy. Momma approves." I felt a gentle slap on my butt.

She held up the deflated rubber bladder in front of my face with a gleam in her eye. "You done good. Not everyone can take a full quart their first time. Now, just hold it in for as long as you can. Five minutes would be fine, ten even better."

Damn, but I had to get to the toilet. The pressure inside me was screaming to be set free. I was ready to burst. To explode. To spew that stuff out of me. Anything to relieve the cramps.

"Hold it in just a bit longer. It works better that way. Make momma proud."

I tried. I really tried. Then I vaulted off the bed and dived into the small bathroom cubicle. Raised the lid on the commode and sat down just in time. Then came the explosion. An enormous, watery, gushing, smelly explosion. I heard applause on the other side of the partition.

About ten minutes later, with my guts thoroughly washed and emptied, I staggered back to the bed and collapsed. Exhausted and more than a little sleepy. Limp as a noodle. I didn't know if I were capable of much of anything. She was lying there waiting for me. Naked.

She gathered me into her arms and pulled my head down to her breast. I sucked on a nipple for a few minutes then drifted off, pillowed in her reassuring talcum powdery warmth. The last thing I remembered that night was the sound of her voice lullabying me to sleep.

I awoke to the crackle of hot grease and the smell of sausages grilling. My clothes were neatly folded on the nightstand. Stacks of pancakes with butter and real maple syrup and the sausages on the side. Grapefruit juice. She sent me off with a lingering kiss.

I walked back up to the apartment to check in with Jo before I took off for work. She greeted me at the door with an open-mouthed kiss and pulled me into the living room. Without warning, there she was, bent forward over the end of the sofa with her skirt flipped up. No underwear. (How long had it been since she had exposed her gleaming, naked bare ass for me?) Seconds later I was inside her, and she was slick with moisture, and I was holding on to her skinny hips and pumping. She screamed as she came. I was half an hour late for work.

Joanne had always been the dominant partner in the relationship. When it came to sex she called the shots. I was the shy one.

I remember the first time we made love. We had only known each other a couple of weeks. She was driving me home from a poetry reading and I noticed we were on an unfamiliar road. She pulled off into a dark side street, unbuckled, then opened her door.

"It's a beautiful night out and I feel like a walk. Look at how brilliant the stars are. I see them reflected in your eyes."

We walked and she pulled me close and we cuddled while we walked. Her cheek was cold. She took my hand and pulled it inside her blouse. Her breast was hot.

We kissed in that secluded place on a nameless street. "I love- "

"Hush," she said. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. You were so needy, and it touched something deep inside me. I can't resist wounded creatures. Come here."

We were behind a small grove of trees, and without any warning she had pulled down her skirt and was bending over. She presented her bare behind to me.

"Come here," she said. "Come to me. You know what to do now. I need you. I need you inside me. I'm so empty. Fill me."

Then and there I filled her, and it was the beginning for us. Things were never quite that good again.

That evening, Marv and Winnie were already there when I came home. Jo had fixed one of her Cal-Mex black bean taco specials (shredded cheese and hot sauce optional). The four of us were all smiles, and there was no shyness or hesitancy.

After dinner, Winnie insisted on putting on a "show" for the rest of us. I dimmed the lights, and she took center stage. She sang a couple of 1950s Broadway hits (quite a decent voice she had), then, with a few showbiz-type flourishes, removed her blouse. Another song. Her bra joined the blouse on the floor. Two more songs and she was wearing nothing at all.

She walked over to Marv and took him by the hand. Slowly she undressed him, then pulled his erect penis into her mouth. He huffed and puffed a couple of times, mimed steam coming out of his ears, then withdrew from her lips. He tongued her breasts, traced a line of kisses downward, then got on his knees and sucked her clit. She groaned, then laughed.

"We'll take requests," she announced.

Jo raised her hand and asked for the doggie position. Winnie bent over on hands and knees and wiggled her ass provocatively. Marv positioned himself behind her and got ready to insert. Winnie suddenly giggled, then farted loudly. Marv waved a hand in front of his face and laughed in turn. "Quite a sense of timing the gal has. And they call *me* an old gasbag."

He grabbed on to her hips and put himself into her, reached around to hold her breasts, then pumped. The sight of him bouncing off her plump round ass excited me, despite the rank fart smell filling the room. His own ass wasn't all that bad, either.

I pulled Jo onto my lap, reached down and began stroking her pussy. She stood up, shrugged out of her panties, and, facing away from me, eased down onto my hard dick with a practiced wiggle of her torso. With both hands around her, I tweaked her nipples while she milked me. All four of us were making love within sight of each other. It was the nearest thing to an orgy I had ever taken part in.

A bit later, we traded partners. Winnie lay on her back on the carpeted floor, raised her knees to her chest, and took me into her for the first time. She turned out to have a trained pussy. A nutcracker. The sensations were so intense that I couldn't spare any attention for Marv and Jo.

That just about wrapped up the evening. After a late snack, our guests left and I fell asleep in my own bed in Jo's arms.

The following evening, we took a break from sex. The four of us went to an outdoor concert in a nearby park. Sousa's military marches and Handel's "Music for the Royal Fireworks".

"There's a quaint little family-run Italian restaurant not too far out of our way," Jo said as we were walking back to the car. "Chewy, garlicky pasta, and the atmosphere's warm and home-like."

Garlicky indeed. Afterwards, enjoying wedges of key lime pie and fighting off heartburn, we got to talking about, of all things, finances.

"Yeah, we do like it out here in Simonton, but the problem is the high cost of living," I was saying between suppressed belches. "Rent for our two bedroom apartment runs $900 a month, and when you factor in electricity and the heating surcharge . . . forget it."

"Well, what's keeping you here then?" Marv asked. "Your jobs? Family attachments? Friends?"

I had to admit that it was mostly inertia. Pulling up stakes and moving was such a hassle, after all.

"You might consider settling out in our neck of the woods, out west of the Pecos . . . Van Horn, Texas," Marv said. He suppressed a belch. "Beautiful country — mountains nearby, cheap living, and I could probably fix up the both of you with decent jobs.

"You're a what? Systems programmer, you said? There's a new software outfit starting up a few miles down the road from us and I'm know they're desperate for skilled people. Jo can get a job teaching in a county school. Lord knows, there's a shortage of experienced teachers.

"As for living accommodations, you might consider an RV. You could get a used one for only a few thou, and space rental in a trailer park is pretty cheap. For that matter, you could buy a couple of acres of land to park the RV. Even paying a mortgage, you'd be considerably better off financially than you are now."

I had a mouthful of questions. We sat and talked. And snacked. And talked.

It was past midnight when yawns began to overpower the discussion, and we drove home to warm beds. To sleep. And think.

Now it was Friday night. "This will be something special," Marv had promised. I couldn't imagine how it could get any more special than it had already been, but he told me to wait, just wait.

"Winnie likes it in the ass," he said.

She laughed out loud at this. "I don't like it in the ass half as much as he likes giving it to me there. And as for taking it up the ass, ah-huh, well, that's it's a tossup as to who likes it there more."

I had often fantasized about fucking a woman in the ass, but had never actually done it. Jo had been willing to consider it early in our relationship, but had we had never gotten beyond talking about it. She was afraid it might be too painful, and I had some issues with hygiene.

"Show us," I told them.

Marv lovingly undressed Winnie. He kissed her long and hard, then moved down to her nipples. Five minutes later, she was arching her back and scratching long, red welts on his forearms. He traced a line of kisses down, down toward her pussy, then spent a good while tonguing, then sucking her clit. She was gasping as he raised her legs over his shoulders and inserted himself into her, then held still without stroking.

"Ready, honey?" he asked.

"Give it to me. Put the eight ball into the side pocket. Or rather, put your cue stick there."

He pulled out of her, and she positioned herself on hands and knees. I handed him the tube of lubricant he reached out for. Now he was gently massaging the valley between her ripe, round buttocks. He inserted a finger, then two, finally three into her rosebud. Her sphincter stretched and opened up as he rotated his hand, then slowly withdrew it.

"Ready, mate?" he asked.

"Check, mate," she answered.

He gradually pressed the head of his cock into her ass, rocked back, then pressed in again. Her opening dimpled, then yielded. "Here we go, baby. Sliding past the ring. Shooting the rapids now."

He was all the way in, pumping in and out, seemingly in slow-motion. The sight of his hard dick slowly disappearing into her backside then reemerging coated with gleaming lubricant was almost more than I could bear. Jo had moved in for a close-up look.

"I'm going into lecture mode," he said. "I expect you all to take notes. Look at how gently I press in. The friction, and much of the sensation comes from the out stroke, just the opposite from cunt fucking. The ass is considerably more fragile a vessel than the pussy, and it needs special care."

There was a faint pop as he pulled out of Winnie's ass. He pointed at me. "All right, demo's over. Cal, your turn now. Final exam time."

I was hard as a rock and Winnie's round, stretched asshole was beckoning, pulling at me like an electromagnet. There was a glistening drop of something (lube? come?) quivering at the crimson-rimmed entrance. I stood behind her and rubbed my hands over her lush cheeks. Holding on to her hips, I placed the tip of my dick against her innermost gate and gingerly pressed forward.

It was surprisingly easy to slide in. The sensation was almost like being inside a pussy, but tighter, and yes, somehow smoother, with a gently rippling texture. Like slipping into a silky, ribbed velvet tunnel. Fucking a silk-lined tube . . . a tube whose function was passing foul-smelling feces and noxious gas . . . yes. Yes! Then Winnie clamped down hard on my dick and I almost passed out as I came.

While I had been otherwise occupied, Marv had been instructing Jo in the theory and practice of ass fucking. "The side-by-side spoon position is the easiest and most gentle for beginners to receive in," he was saying. Winnie had her arm around me and was nuzzling my neck as I watched Marv inserting into Jo's ass, then comforting her as she winced.

"There, that's better now. Once I'm past the ring, all you feel is a gentle stretching, and possibly a mild burning sensation. I'll finger your clit while I'm in you." Jo's face relaxed, then she closed her eyes and her lips settled into a faint smile.

I must have drifted off with my head on Winnie's breasts (they made plush, comfortable pillows). Marv's voice wakened me.

"I saw you staring at my ass while I was doing Jo, Cal old fellow. Interested in getting inside me? Simon says, fuck him in the ass."

I was instantly hard again. I hadn't really been thinking of doing that, not consciously, but what had happened tonight must have stirred up old fantasies from the dusty recesses of my mind.

He took me by the hand and led me over to an exercise mat spread out in the corner. He handed me a tube of lube and positioned himself on hands and knees.

"Now, the trick is to slather the lube on. Squeeze some on your index finger and press it into my ass. Not so hard. Easy does it. Do it again, and repeat until the stuff is oozing out of me. Now, put two fingers in and stretch me a little. Side to side, and up and down. Spread the fingers and swivel them around. That's it. Now, more lube. Try three fingers. I do believe I'm ready for you. The door's wide open. Lube up your dick and come right on in."

By feel, it wasn't really all that much different than the inside of Winnie's ass. Well, maybe just a little tighter. I hesitantly told Marv that after I had fully inserted.

"No shit, fella. An ass is an ass is an ass. An ass by any other name." That's all I need, I thought, a literature-spouting smartass. I commenced fucking that smart ass.

Oh, that was good. I had come inside him, but was still partly hard when I pulled out. Still horny. Still wanting something or other. He noticed.

"You want to find out what it feels like? Inside *you*, I mean." Marv was smiling at me as he used a damp towel to mop up the semen seeping out of him.

I was curious. Very curious. His detailed explanation of the art of bottoming must have tripped a relay in my head. I was totally hard again and both my penis and anal sphincter were throbbing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

"Lay down on your left side. You'll find it easier to relax that way. Now I'm going to prepare you the same way you did me. Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

He lay down behind me and began massaging my neck. I closed my eyes and let my breathing slow. Then I pulled my top knee part way up toward my chest, as instructed.

"Good boy," he said. "Now, I'll lubricate and stretch your opening a bit. That'll soothe and relax it."

He stroked, then kneaded my buttocks. For a split-second I flashed back to the feel of Winnie's hands doing the exact same thing. The technique was identical. I jumped involuntarily as his fingertip stroked between the cheeks. It was like a jolt of electricity. But it felt (ah!) so good as he rubbed something slippery into the groove down there, and fingered my opening with a feather-light touch. Now I felt something gently inserting into me.

"Relax. It's just a single finger. Push out. Press out as if you were having a bowel movement. Gently."

I felt the finger slip in further, then slowly withdraw.

"Two fingers now. Feel the slight stretch. I'm going to spread them slightly and rotate. That will stretch and relax you even more."

Still doing fine. Dick hard as a rock.

"The final test. Three fingers. If you can take that, you're ready for the big time. How does that feel?"

I felt open and vulnerable . . . and eager to get on with it.

"Go ahead, Marv. Fuck me."

I could feel the stretch, the steadily increasing pressure as he gradually pressed against, then into my hole.

"I'm just past the entrance and holding steady. Ready to pop past the ring. Pop your cherry, so to speak. Are you okay with that?"

"Do it. Fuck my ass."

My sphincter stretched apart with a painless shock and he was inside. Inside me. He was sliding up into me with no resistance and there was a slippery column of flesh moving up into me and filling my intestine. I was filling up with him, then I was full and his thighs pressed against my ass cheeks. He was totally inside me. It felt a little strange, but there was no discomfort. It excited me in a way I had never experienced.

Again, he checked with me. "I'm going to rock and roll now, but stop me if you feel any discomfort."

(He was fucking me. Fucking me in the ass. Did that change me somehow? Make me queer?)

I felt him sliding in and out, and it was exciting me more and more. Was it my imagination, or was friction heating up the inside of my ass? I was burning with fever. Then, his hand reached around me and grabbed my dick.

"I'm almost ready to pop off, Cal, and I want you to come at the same time. You'll know why in a minute." His lubricated hand sang up and down my throbbing dick. I howled and spurted, and my asshole clenched and released, clenched and released against the hard shaft corking me up, which was now squirting bursts of hot liquid up into my bowels. Into the place where my shit came from. Into the dark, deep mystery. Into my guts. Into the very heart of me.

I heard cheers and felt blood rush to my face. The women had been watching our performance, watching me being ass-fucked, watching me being opened up and hollowed out. I was blushing like a teenage girl. What was happening to me?

That night I dreamed . . . I couldn't remember what I dreamed. I awoke short of breath and soaked in sweat. Jo made me some herb tea and told me to stay home from work. I took two aspirin and went anyway.

Saturday night. Over cheese lasagna, we discussed going on an RV trip together. A weekend outing seemed to be a good way to introduce Jo and myself to that way of life. We planned it for the very next week. Meanwhile, we had other matters to attend to.

"Do you know what 'double bubble' means?" Marv asked me.

"Yeah, it has something to do with chewing gum, doesn't it?" I wisecracked.

"El wrongo! It's a woman taking it in both openings at once. Winnie goes wild when she does it. It's an unusually intense sensation for the men involved, too."

"Hmm. Sounds interesting. I assume you brought it up because you want us to do it. I'm game if everyone else is."

Marv pointed at Winnie. "You on, honey?"

She had closed her eyes and was smiling dreamily. "Mmm. If my two strong men are up to it . . . "

I turned to Jo. "Baby, would it gross you out seeing that?"

She laughed.

Presently, I was on my back and Winnie was on top, facing me, and squatting as I put myself into her. She bent over forward and supported herself on hands and knees straddling me. Marv approached and grasped her hips. Meanwhile Jo was watching the proceedings with what looked like clinical interest.

I could feel when Marv inserted into her rear aperture. Her pussy seemed to tighten up, and there was a firm pressure against the one side of my dick. I could actually feel him through the back wall of Winnie's cunt. It was tight in there, like being wedged in.

"Just stay fully inside without trying to move," Marv said. "I'll do the thrusting. Wait'll you feel how tight she grips when she comes like this. It'll blow your brains out."

It did, too. She howled like a demon, bore down and spasmed, and that set Marv and me off at the same time. Holy shit!

"Some other time, we'll switch positions. Not now . . . Winnie needs about a week to recuperate from this."

An hour later, as we were sitting at the table sipping wine, I mentioned a long-time fantasy of mine.

"Have you ever heard of a 'San Francisco sandwich'?"

"Yep," Marv answered. "That's when the guy in the middle fucks the woman, while the other guy gets behind him and fucks him in the ass. Now that's something I haven't tried in a good while, but I used to be considered somewhat of an expert on it. Are you game?"

"Who gets the middle spot?"

"How 'bout you, tonight? I'm still sore from when you ass-fucked me a couple of nights back."

"Sounds like a winner. Let's see if Jo's up for it. Winnie looks a bit used up after what we did to her."

Jo was not only ready; she was eager. "Let's do it in front of the wall mirror, so I can see the action behind me. Just give me a couple of minutes to freshen up."

Actually, I also needed a few minutes to freshen up. I thought it might be a good idea to evacuate my bowels before Marv explored them with his dick (he might not appreciate encountering any digestive byproducts). A quick enema would leave me squeaky clean inside.

As I closed the bathroom door behind me, I could hear him in his lecture mode.

"There are three basic techniques for 'making a sandwich':

"The simplest has the woman bend forward over bed, the middle guy enters her from behind and rests his weight on her back, while the end guy fucks middle.

"Method number two is similar, but the end guy stays embedded in the middle without movement, holding onto him by his hips as he fucks the woman and comes, then finishes in him if necessary.

"Method number three, the most difficult, involves synchronized movement by middle and end (either both thrusting forward at the same time, or alternating in tempo). That takes a lot of practice to get right."

We agreed on the first method.

Marv piled sofa pillows in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Jo bent forward and rested her chest on them. She had already stripped for action — totally naked. I was hard and throbbing.

From behind, I slid all the way into that familiar velvet-lined pouch and stretched out over her back. I reached underneath and cupped her breasts. Marv asked if I was ready. I braced myself against the bend of Jo's posterior and told him to let fly.

His finger was rubbing lube between my cheeks, then massaging it into my hole. That almost brought me off right there, but I just did manage to hold back. Barely. Seconds later there was the feel of something large and hard slowly pressing into me. I relaxed my buttocks and pushed out gently to unlock the sphincter ring muscles. The mild stretching and the pulse of fullness rippling upward in my lower gut sent a wave of dizziness washing over me and my ears began ringing.

I was trying to figure out whether it felt better in front or in back . . . and decided it was more intense in back, but more soothing in front, and the combination was like eating a double-scoop ice cream cone with two wildly different flavors.

I was teetering on the edge, then I toppled. The rhythmically pumping piston in my ass seemed to be forcing stored up vital essence out of me and into Jo's cunt. Each time Marv bottomed out in me, it propelled a high-pressure spurt of my come into her. (I seemed to have been transformed into a hydraulic syphon!) I kept coming and coming and dimly heard Jo cry out, and her clutching pussy gripped me tighter and a thin scream escaped me.

I held on to Jo's swaying hips and stayed inside her moments more, as my hardness faded away. Finally, my deflating dick slipped out of her moist crevice and I collapsed face down, drained and depleted, while Marv continued pounding in and out of me. Intense! Too intense!

Limp and totally depleted of come and desire, I became a passive receptacle for the dick embedded in my stretched and distended asshole, thrusting in and out of the cavernous depths of my rectum. It must have been another ten minutes before I mercifully felt him twitching and spurting inside me. Now I knew what the filling in a cheese sandwich felt like. A grilled cheese sandwich.

We lay hooked up and inert a while longer before disengaging in a sweaty tangle of limbs and pungent smells and residual stickiness. Winnie had been watching and capturing the action on a hand-held videocam all the while. We were movie stars. Porn stars.

During the week, we saw Winnie and Marv only once. I spent a night alone with Marv in the rig, both fucking and being fucked, but when I woke up, I was in Winnie's arms. My ass ached, but my dick was hard and she comforted me and took me into her.

Packing for our trip took most of our free time. Mostly I was feeling totally depleted and needed a rest from sex for a while.

Jo shook me awake early Saturday. Early? It was 3:00 a.m. Time to leave and I was too groggy to do much more than throw on the clothes laying at the foot of the bed and grab a donut. Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in a padded captain's chair looking over Winnie's shoulder as she piloted the behemoth toward the entrance to the expressway.

Suddenly I jerked awake. There was a heavy weight on my lap. The false dawn glowed on the horizon and the console speedometer was steady at 70. I couldn't see who was driving.

Winnie was sitting on me, astride my thighs, facing forward. She fumbled with one hand beneath herself, trying to insert me into her. My fly was open and she didn't have anything on under her skirt. I popped in and she eased down on me. I slid all the way up inside her moist warmth.

An hour or so later we pulled into a rest stop. The women visited the facilities while Marv and I chatted.

"Winnie's at her peak early in the wee hours of the morning. Not like me — I need my beauty sleep. Looks like you left her satisfied, though. She was lit up like a 100 watt bulb just now."

"Thanks, but I think she just drained my battery. I'm depleted. How's about some breakfast?"

Fried eggs, hash browns, and juice did the trick. Those truck stop diners sure know how to rev a sleepy person up. An hour later, we were on the road again.

Late in the afternoon, I was catching a snooze in that soft bed in the back. We were highballing toward the state line and the clickety-clack road sounds had lulled me into a deep slumber. I jolted awake to the feel of a hand on my dick. Man's hand or woman's? I didn't much care at that particular moment. I was horny as hell, and either inserting or being inserted into was fine with me.

It turned out to be Marv's hand, and it was my ass he was after. He helped me onto my hands and knees, and lo and behold, there was Jo at the foot of the bed with a strange smile. She reached for my dick, still drooping, and pulled it into her mouth. The dick expanded rapidly to fill available space, and meanwhile Marv was parting my ass cheeks. He entered me and began a slow pumping rhythm as Jo sucked at my shaft. The sensations were similar to being sandwiched, to fucking and simultaneously being fucked. It was like being pulled apart like a strand of taffy, like dissolving in a glass of water, like being melted in a furnace. The wash of physical sensations blurred the boundaries between Self and Other, and for a moment I forgot who I was and I ceased to care. Awareness seeped back into me as I felt Marv's throbbing and wetness inside my gut as I simultaneously unloaded down Jo's throat.

There was laughter from up front, and I realized that the sliding privacy door had been open the whole time. Winnie had been viewing the entire spectacle in the rear-view mirror. Luckily, she hadn't rear-ended anyone while she was watching me being rear-ended.

We pulled into an RV park to stay overnight. Just sleep was on my agenda that night, but the next morning was a different matter. I had awakened with an inspiration.

The scenery on the mountain road was inspiring. I had my mind on other matters, though. We had stopped for a picnic lunch at a rest stop overlooking the winding descent down into a lush valley. There were a couple of cars and a tractor-trailer parked there. That would provide just enough of an element of risk for what I had in mind.

A rather bizarre fantasy had surfaced in my imagination. Just how much fucking could my ass take before it got too sore to continue? Add to that the titillating possibility of being caught in the act by strangers. . . .

I explained it to the others. Everyone would take turns fucking me. Marv could use his natural equipment, while the two women would wear strapons. The challenge was for me to hold out for an hour or more.

Jo was dubious. "You seem to have gone overboard on this ass fucking thing. And it's starting do do weird things to my mind. Sure, it excites me seeing you on the receiving end, but I think maybe there's a limit."

The rest of us were eager to try it, and Jo didn't want to be a spoilsport.

Uphill from the paved area, the mountainside looked to be densely overgrown with scrub pine, high weeds, and various species of brush. Perfect concealment for small game . . . and small games of the kind I had in mind.

Off we went, with picnic baskets, blankets, and knapsacks. There was a small clearing amidst clumps of waist-high undergrowth and thickets. Perfect for our purposes.

Food first — sandwiches, jerky, and trail mix, washed down with lots of lemonade. Then, quickly scoping the area and setting Marv and Jo as lookouts, we were ready to begin. I dropped my pants and bent over.

Winnie took the first turn with me, and she began fucking me with an nine-inch dildo. Our two "lookouts" kept glancing over their shoulders at us, and I could hear an occasional snicker. After about ten minutes of this, my ass was beginning to get sore, and I still hadn't come.

Marv traded places with Winnie. I was tired of standing bent over, so we got down on our hands and knees on a doubled-over blanket. He stuck his dick into me and began pumping enthusiastically. A cloud drifted over the sun and a sudden chilly wind gust blew a scattering of dried leaves over us. I was was breaking out in goosebumps. Not long after that, I felt the familiar twitching in my gut and the wetness. Marv motioned to Jo. She took her time walking over and there was a strange look on her face.

Jo was moving in and out of me, but her rhythm began dragging. I could tell she wasn't too keen about the whole idea. She stopped, paused a moment, then abruptly pulled out of me with a "splut" of leaking lubricant and second-hand sperm.

"I've had my fill of this," she announced, then turned around and began walking downhill. And that was the end of that.

On the road that evening, riding back toward our apartment, I had some painful issues to deal with. What, exactly, had I been trying to prove with that last escapade? What I had gotten from it was very little in the way of pleasure, a sore and abraded asshole, and an upset and alienated partner. Jo hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to any of us for the last few hours.

Maybe, just maybe, wall-to-wall sex wasn't what I was looking for in life. Since meeting Marv and Winnie, I had gotten no closer to personal fulfillment, or to fathoming the deeper meaning of life (if there even was such a thing). I was certainly no happier, and my relationship with Jo had not, on balance, improved. Something was very wrong here.

Sexual variety wasn't the cure for what ailed me, or what ailed Jo and me as a couple. There was something much more fundamental missing. We had been drifting apart for some time now, and swinging had widened the gap into a chasm.

I remember the first time I met Joanne. I was sitting in the waiting room at the dentist's office. Waiting. Reading a magazine and waiting to have my teeth drilled. Not a pleasant way to pass an afternoon. Nope.

There was only one other person waiting there in the waiting room. She was a cute little brunette with a nice smile and a pert little butt. I had noted that smile when we nodded and said hello in the elevator on the way up. I had noted that butt when she preceded me into the waiting room.

"You're interested in literature, are you?" Her voice had torn through my reverie. I was leafing through a copy of the "New Yorker," not because I particularly wanted to read it, but it had just happened to be in the most accessible part of the magazine rack. Anything to occupy my mind. I dreaded anything to do with dental work.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Literature. Greatest invention since sliced bread. Keeps the human race out of mischief. Sure."

She had chuckled, and there was that warm smile again. She was amused. She enjoyed my company! I was never much good at repartee, and my unrehearsed effort came out sounding somewhat near to spontaneous. It occurred to me in that moment that I could get to like this little lady.

We talked about many thing there and then in that bleak waiting room. Work, life, the state of the economy, and fear of flossing. Then the receptionist called her in. Only scant moments later, she emerged, and smiled at me again. "It wasn't so bad. You'll probably survive it."

I must have winced, because she came over and hugged me. The hug turned into an embrace. A warm embrace. She gave me a quick pat on the butt as I left to take my turn at being drilled. As the dentist probed my mouth with shiny sharp instruments I noticed a folded note protruding from my shirt pocket.

"Imagine finding a kindred soul in this cold, sterile place. I don't want to lose you. My phone number is . . . "

Marv and Winnie sensed that they had worn out their welcome. They chugged back to Van Horn, Texas in their rig. They wrote occasionally, but their letters made it clear that they had no plans to come out our way again any time soon.

Jo moved out a couple of months later. The last I heard, she was married to a radio evangelist, and had handily won reelection to the county school board on the strength of a promise to remove all "obscene and suggestive" material from classrooms and libraries.

It happened that some enterprising soul with a telephoto lens had captured our extracurricular activities on that fateful mountainside. The pictures have since graced quite a few Internet porn sites. Fortunately, none of the faces are recognizable. Imagine, an ultra-respectable school board member caught in sodomistic pursuits in the midst of pristine wilderness. . . . Not exactly a career-enhancing move.

I've been living in splendid solitude for the past year. Celibacy, I've found, focuses the mind wonderfully. I glory in the freedom to do what I want, do it when I want to, and without being accountable to anyone else. And, you know, I enjoy my newly quiet and predictable life, free of the complications and roller coaster peaks and plunges of a relationship. I'm totally my own man finally, and loneliness is a small price to pay for that.

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