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From: Rachael Ross <rache_696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sorority Girl Ch2 by Rachael Ross (M/F, Prostitution, Safe Sex, SciFi, Fantasy)
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Date: Fri, 06 Oct 2006 12:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "sorority_girl_2.txt" begin>

Sorority Girl Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.  Story
Codes: F/M, Prostitution, Safe Sex, Romance, SciFi, Fantasy

   Note: This is written using the alternative universe setting I wrote in
Dabara and so it has elements of FemDom and Transgender in it.  I decided
to use standard time/ages in this story, and I'm really still feeling my
way forward.  -rr

   =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

   Sorority Girl By rache

   Chapter 2

   "I can't forget about him." I sighed.

   Susan was sitting on a chair in her underwear in the kitchen, cleaning
the cleats of her soccer shoes.  She'd had a game the other day and it had
been muddy, I guess.  At least she put some newspaper down to catch the mud
he was prying off the soles with a butter knife.

   "God made a lot of boys, Jen, no sense getting hung up on one." Susan
shrugged and took a swig of beer.

   "Yeah, I know." I was drinking beer too, like my third in half an hour,
sitting on the kitchen counter in a pair of shorts and nothing else.  We
were pretty casual by ourselves, especially when we were drinking.

   "You still got a few days, find a different guy." Susan grinned at me.
"Just make sure he's a virgin."

   "Ah" I made a face, waving her off.  "It isn't that, I shouldn't have
fucked what's-his-name, the guy at the party."

   "What?  Why?" Susan looked stabbed at her shoe.

   "Cause, I mean I should have been with William, not at that party at
all. If he finds out..."

   "What, he's Mormon?" Susan looked at me.

   "Huh?  No, of course not."

   "Well, so what if he finds out then, you're not married anyway, and the
only ones I know of who get pissed about that stuff is Mormons." Susan
laughed and shook her head.

   Mormons were sort of strange, believing that women shouldn't have sex
with more than one man.  They were big time monogamists and their beliefs
started as soon as a person hit puberty, which was right about the time
everyone else was saying go out and have fun.  Girls were supposed to be
sexually adventurous, at least until they were married, while boys were
supposed to tease and play hard to get.  So far as most people were
concerned, it wasn't just okay for a single girl to have sex with different
men; it was encouraged...unless you were Mormon.

   But knowing that right was on my side didn't make me feel any better.

   "I think I love him." I sighed, taking another big swallow of beer. 
Cold condensation dripped off the bottle, falling on my right breast.  "I
don't want to lose her."

   "Love?" Susan shook her head.  "You just got here, don't fall in love
yet."

   "What happens at the initiation?" I asked.

   "You'll find out." Susan shrugged.

   "No, I'm serious, girl, I need to know.  Cause I don't wanna find a
different guy, okay?  I want the one I have." I frowned.  "But I'm not
gonna hurt him just so I can be in some club."

   "It's not a club, it's a sorority." Susan sighed and dropped her show on
the floor.  "We got 3000 members, all across the country, the world even,
girls who will be your sisters, helping you meet people, get the right job,
find the right house, whatever..."

   "Yeah, yeah..." I nodded.  I'd heard it all before.  From Susan, from my
mom, from everybody.  "They're lawyers and bankers and used car dealers, I
get it.  But I love him, so..." I held up my hands.  "...I gotta know."

   "I can't tell you." Susan looked genuinely sad, but I think she was a
little hostile too.  I wasn't exactly embracing the sorority party line or
anything.

   "Who can?" I challenged her.  Susan hesitated.  "Come on, I'm serious, I
won't do it if I don't know."

   "You gotta ask Kylie probably.  If someone can tell you, it'll be her."
Susan shrugged.  "The rest of us, we'd just get in trouble if we said
anything, trouble for us and you."

   We were quiet for awhile then, Susan going back to her shoes, and me
just drinking beer and rubbing cold moisture around my breasts, remembering
the way William liked to kiss them.

   "Or..." Susan said suddenly, like a thought had just occurred to her.

   "Or what?" I stared at the girl.

   "You could always ask your mom." Susan looked at me.  "The initiation
hasn't changed in like 50 years or something, so..."

   "It's the same thing my mom went through?" I blinked at that, mostly
because I just hadn't thought about it.

   "Yeah, pretty much." Susan nodded.

   It was Saturday night and I'd been thinking of calling William all day,
or at least since I'd woken up at noon.  It had been a very long, and very
drunk Friday night as I'd tried to drown my sorrows.  I was still paying
for it and I wondered if my hangover would ever go away.  Drinking more
beer probably wasn't helping, but it didn't seem to hurt either.

   "...leave your message after the beep..."

   "William?  Hey, are you there?  It's me again, um...I'm sorry, okay? 
Can we talk?  Call me, please." I left my third message in two hours,
wondering where he was.  One more and I'd get a free toaster.

   "Still not there?" Susan asked, she'd put on some jeans and a t-shirt.

   "Nope." I shrugged.

   "Well, uh, I sort of figured you'd be going out tonight..."

   "Yeah, me too."

   "...so I hate to do this but..."

   "But?" I narrowed my eyes a little.

   "But Lance is coming over and I kinda wanna get him, you know...alone."

   "Oh." I nodded.  "Right."

   "Hey, take my motorcycle, go have some fun.  Go up to the house and hang
for awhile, that's what it's there for." Susan hated asking me to leave,
but she wanted to get laid too.

   "Nah, I'll walk." I waved off her keys as Susan held them out.  "The
exercise will do me good."

   I dressed quickly, if not carelessly, pulling on some khaki trousers and
a big Property of WSU sweatshirt in the school colors of gold and red.  I
combed my brown hair, which was starting to get a little long, just over
the ears, and reminded myself to get a haircut one of these days.  I wasn't
sure where I was gonna go, but Susan was going to need some time alone,
probably a lot of time, so...

   I wandered off campus, into the small area of shops and bars and coffee
shops that constituted the local hangout.  It was already crowded, being a
Saturday and a college town.  The nearest real city was some three hours
away, so business was always good, even an hour past sunset.  There were a
lot of couples, men and women walking around together smiling, holding
hands, exchanging little kisses.  It made me feel even more lonely, as if
that were possible.

   Girls weren't supposed to pine for boys, but that's what I was doing. 
Every time I heard a boy giggle I'd turn my head, half-hoping and
half-dreading that it might be William, out with someone else, some other
girl, but it wasn't.  There were more guys than girls in the world, that's
a scientific fact, and it affected society in small barely understood ways,
but all it really meant to me was that I had a smaller chance of finding
the perfect guy, than he did of finding me.  And that was a pretty deep
thought for a girl shuffling past closed shops with her hands stuffed in
her pockets.

   I ended up in one of the nicer places, a downstairs jazz club that
didn't really get started until late.  I wasn't a big jazz person, but
William was, he loved the old stuff and we'd come down there once in
awhile, drinking coffee spiked with Irish cream, talking about how the
world turned.  It was dim and sexy and full of good memories, so I sat at
the bar, listening to an anorexic waif of a man playing the piano, and
watching eager young students solve life's problems around me.

   All I needed was a cigarette and I'd have been the picture of
loneliness.

   "Hi." A soft masculine voice surprised me and an attractive young man
was sliding onto the barstool next to me.  We were the only ones there,
everyone else in the place sitting at tables, or in booths.

   "Hello." I nodded, turning the rum and coke I was holding on the bar,
spinning the coaster beneath it.

   He was tall, perhaps 5'10" with a nice slim body, dressed a lot nicer
than I was, but not overdoing it.  He had a one piece mini, navy blue with
spaghetti straps and a hemline that barely came mid thigh as he crossed his
legs.  I looked down, of course, because all girls are dogs, especially the
lonely ones, and I could see the lump pressed upward between his tightly
closed thighs.  He had a nice face too, attractive like I said, with blonde
hair in a French curl around his bare shoulders.

   He was definitely out of my league and I envied whoever the girl was
that he was waiting for.  I was never the most outgoing person anyway, and
so this was a situation designed to drive me away.  Sitting alone at a bar
with a stunning young man, listening to some piano jazz; it wasn't normal
and I finished my drink before I did something really stupid, like forget
who I was and try to pick up the guy.

   "Do you have a light?" The man asked me just about the time I was going
to stand up.

   "Um, no." I turned to him, smiling apologetically, and of course he was
so beautiful just sitting there I felt like an idiot for not carrying a
lighter for exactly this sort of situation.  "Sorry."

   "That's okay, I'm trying to quit anyway." He smiled, putting the
cigarette he was holding down on the bar, flicking it a few inches away
with one long red fingernail.  I just watched it roll.  "It's a dirty
habit. I'm Valentine."

   "Valentine?" I was feeling particularly stupid and I was barely aware
that he was holding his hand out.  I took it, feeling his fingers soft and
dry.  "That's a pretty name, I've never met a Valentine before."

   "My friends call me Val." He gave a slight nod of his chin as I let his
hand go.

   Val was a girl's name, short for Valerie, and he didn't look like a girl
at all, so I had to smile with some disbelief.  I didn't know what sort of
friends he had, but I couldn't ever picture myself calling anyone who
looked like that Val.  Of course I couldn't imagine having a friend who
looked like that either.

   "I know." He giggled lightly, "It's a girl's name, but I don't mind. 
What's yours?"

   I groaned inwardly that he had to ask.  "Jennifer, uh, Jen." I smiled
self-consciously.  "I mean you can call me Jen." I shook my head, smiling
sheepishly and afraid I was going to blush.

   "Okay, Jen." He nodded.  "It's nice to meet you."

   "Yeah." I nodded too, being clever as a doorknob.  "Do you um, go to
school?" Which was only slightly better than asking him what his sign was,
I suppose, but he was generous.

   "Uh-huh, I'm a psych major." He shrugged with a little self-deprecating
smile.  "Predictable, huh?"

   "Uh, no." I answered seriously and he giggled at that.

   "How about you?  Mmmm..." He looked at me closely, making suddenly very
uncomfortable, especially when her green eyes found mine.  "...you look
serious, law school?"

   I swallowed hard, wondering for a brief second if he knew me from
somewhere.  "Yeah, I'm..."

   "Get you another?" The bartender interrupted me, a short woman dressed
like an old time New Orleans doorman, complete with the red dinner jacket
and bow tie.

   "Yeah, um and..." I looked at Valentine and he smiled, asking for a
glass of wine.  "...white wine." I echoed him, just in case the bartender
missed it.

   "You were saying?" He touched my knee and forgot entirely what we were
talking about for a second.

   "Oh, yeah...uh, I'm pre-law, first year." I nodded and cleared my throat
a little.

   "I knew it." He laughed lightly.  "I'm good at reading people." He said
and I couldn't tell if he was serious or not.

   "Reading strange women alone in bars?" I smiled, thinking maybe I really
was clever.

   "Especially them." Valentine agreed, running the tip of his pink tongue
across his lower lip.  He had extremely red lips.

   The bartender brought our drinks and Valentine held his glass up for a
bare second, tilting his head in a silent gesture of appreciation before
sipping it slowly.  I just watched him, appreciating the effortless grace
of the simplest act you can imagine, but sitting there, watching him, it
was like watching a drama unfold.

   I rolled my eyes at myself and I looked down quickly, stirring my own
drink with the little plastic straw that came with it.  I had a small
thought of trying to call William again, to invite him out and find a table
with a candle on it so we could lean close together and whisper.  I felt
guilty sitting with Valentine, not so much because we were talking, or
sharing a drink together, but because I found this other man so attractive.
It makes little sense, I know, but right then I didn't want to find
anything else beautiful, nothing but my memory of William.

   "You're thinking of a boy, I think." Valentine's voice jerked me back
and I looked at him.  "But not me."

   "I'm sorry." I sighed, trying to smile and having no clue as to what I
was supposed to say right then.

   "How do I change that, I wonder." He was looking at me again, fixing my
eyes with his.  It wasn't fair at all.

   "I..." I shrugged helplessly.  "...I have a boyfriend, sort of."

   "But not right now." He licked his lips, not smiling, but still giving
me impression that he was playing with me.

   "No." I lifted my glass.  "Not right now." I took a drink.

   "We could go someplace, if you want." He was closer, touching my leg,
rubbing my thigh.  "I have a place, upstairs."

   "You have a place?" I had to think about that for a second, and it
suddenly hit me all at once.  My eyes widened and he smiled, giving me the
barest nod.  "You're a..." I didn't want to say it, for fear of getting a
glass of wine in my face, as if I hadn't said too much already.

   "Fifty dollars." He was whispering, leaning so far over I could feel his
sweet breath on my face.  His hand was reaching towards my clit, his
fingertips pressing down just enough.  "And you can forget him for a little
while."

   I knew there were prostitutes in town, I mean I'd heard they were out
here, but I always imagined them standing on the corner, dressed in leopard
print pants and feather boas, with too much makeup, chewing gum, and...

   "Alright." I said softly, wondering what I was doing.  Was I that
desperate?  And did desperation have anything to do with it really?  He was
incredibly beautiful, stunning in fact, and I felt my stomach knot up with
the realization that he wasn't really interested in me at all, just my
money.

   But still I was going, for no other reason than I wanted to punish
myself, I suppose.  William loved me and now I was going upstairs, into
some anonymous little room with a man whose name I might, or might not
know, for no other reason than to be special for an hour or so.  His eyes
promised me that much at least; he was a very good actor.

   I paid for the drinks and we walked up the stairs, to the sidewalk, and
I felt a momentary flash of panic.  What if everyone walking past knew I
was with a prostitute?  It was an honorable profession, perfectly legal in
every state except Utah, but still...My real worry of course, was that
William would happen along, just at the precise wrong moment in my life,
and see me with this beautiful man.  Would he be jealous?  Probably and
unreasonably, but maybe not, and that was the scary part.  I hoped
Valentine's apartment wasn't very far.

   "Welcome home." Valentine smiled as she unlocked her door, pushing the
door open for me, and I thought it was an odd thing to say.

   It was a small loft, just three rooms probably, but I didn't get the
grand tour or anything.  The main room was small, but cozy, nicely
decorated and much more tastefully so than what I was used to around the
university.  Prostitution must have paid pretty good.  There was a bathroom
just off to the left, the door slightly ajar, and what I assumed was the
kitchen to the right.  A large bed dominated the place, old fashioned brass
and made up prettily with silk lavender sheets.  There was no television,
and just enough books in a large bookcase to make the place look lived in,
but mainly it was filled with porcelain figurines and dolls.

   Valentine closed the door, locking it behind us and picked up a remote
control from a wicker end table near the door, turning on a stereo so that
soft classical began playing.  It was simple and somehow elegant all at
once and I just stood in the middle of the room wondering what it would be
like to really come home to something like this every day.

   "Do you like Vivaldi?" Valentine's mouth was against my right ear and
his hands encircled my waist as he pressed himself against my back.

   "Sure." I replied, hoping he meant the music and not something else, but
the name did seem to ring a small bell in the back of my mind.

   "Me too, it's so romantic, but..." He was turning me gently, looking
almost level into my eyes, he was so tall, especially in heels.  "...Let's
take care of the unromantic part first." He wrinkled his nose a little,
smiling at me, and I nodded dumbly reaching for my wallet.

   Fifty dollars didn't seem like very much, but then I'd never paid for
sex either.  That was another thing that made me vaguely uncomfortable,
knowing I was with a professional and hoping I knew what I was doing.  I
mean everyone knows how to do it, but I really wanted to be good at it
suddenly, because standing there looking at Valentine there was little
doubt in my mind that he was going to be very good at whatever we did.

   Once Valentine had my money safely in her purse it was as if we'd been
together for years.  Whatever I might have expected, a cold businesslike
aspect, or a rush to get me off and out the door, that wasn't what
Valentine was about at all.

   "Let's relax a little." He said, and every movement was slow and
deliberate.  We didn't sit down, we didn't even undress, he just let me
take him in my arms and we danced slowly, if dancing was what it was.  We
moved together, and feeling him against me was wonderful.  He smelled soft,
so masculine and sweet, and I buried my face in Valentine's silky hair
while he kissed my cheek and neck.

   This was foreplay like I'd never experienced in my life, sex without
being overt or aggressive.  We just touched and kissed lightly, and used
our senses.  My breasts ached the way they hadn't since I hit puberty and
they'd started their slow painful development.  My nipples flashed hot and
cold under my sweatshirt, and the warm fleece was rubbing my skin as we
moved.  My sex was tropical, my vagina almost trembling with growing
anticipation, and my clit hardened noticeably, sending little shocks of
electricity through my entire body.

   Valentine had me breathing hard and flushing with such little effort on
his part that I might have felt embarrassed, like a little girl on her
first date.  I could feel his penis, a hardness trapped under his skirt,
coiled in his panties, pressing against me.  I wondered how he felt doing
this, it couldn't have been an act, not all of it.  He was moving his hands
along my back, murmuring in my ear and tickling me with his tongue and
lips. It was like magic and it wasn't long before my lips found his for a
real kiss.

   I pushed my tongue into Valentine's mouth, trying to be gentle, to treat
him like the beautiful delicate man he was.  I brought my hands down his
spine, feeling the curve of his back, down to his pert round ass.  I felt
his narrow hips and waist, moving beneath me, the contours so subtle and
manly.  My breasts pressed to his flat chest and I hungered to see his
nipples, to know if he was excited as I was.  But first we kissed,
listening to the fragile strains of violins and cellos, moving in that
small room in the soft golden lamplight.

   "Do you want to undress me?" Valentine smiled, licking his lips and I
could see his lipstick barely upset by our long kiss.  He was still
perfectly beautiful, or even more so perhaps, as I'd forgotten everything
else completely.

   "Oh yes." I nodded and he waited patiently, watching my eyes as I
slipped the thin straps of his dress off the man's pale shoulders so they
fell loose down his arms.  He was holding me, squeezing my round hips, and
letting me pull the dress slowly down, as if opening a particularly
delightful present.

   I held my breath as his chest was exposed, the shape of his breasts
defined by his muscles, and so smooth and pretty I would have been afraid
to imagine them swollen and ripe with milk.  But that was fascination for
me, as with many women, the magic transformation that only a man could
enjoy.  And we spent our imaginations on such things, my sisters and I, all
the while professing our admiration for the classic unspoiled male form.

   Valentine gasped softly as I paused, unable to help myself as I placed a
hand against his bare chest, moving my fingers across his left nipple.  It
was hard, like my own, but smaller and darker.  I bent my mouth to it and
he didn't stop me, but cradled my head as I kissed and then sucked that
small nub of tender flesh between my lips.  I did the same with the other
and then kissed his lips before returning to my task, pushing his dress
down across his flat stomach and then his narrow hips.  He wriggled
slightly for me, helping me undress him until I could let the material go.
Valentine let go of my own hips then, and the straps fell past his hand and
the whole thing settled with a whisper around his feet.

   He wore a silvery G-string, just a pouch really, filled with his cock
and balls, running back to taper in the soft crevice of his ass.  I touch
him gently, cupping the bulging material in my hand and feeling the warmth
radiating from his flesh trapped inside.

   "Go ahead..." He whispered, guiding me with his hands on my shoulders,
sensing my desire and giving me more than mere permission to do whatever I
wanted.

   I knelt down for him, tugging at the thin fabric encircling his waist,
pulling the G-string down so that Valentine's thick penis seemed to spring
free all of a sudden, as if coming to life before my vary eyes, and it was
perhaps the most beautiful penis I'd ever seen.  It stood there, not quite
fully erect, just in front of my face.  The tip was just faintly wet with
precum, glistening on the pinkish head.  It was large and smooth, with soft
whitish skin just under the crown, giving way to the long darkening shaft,
smooth but for the intricate pattern of veins just beneath the skin.

   I kissed the tip, which was something I'd done only a few times in my
life, and never with as much pleasure as I felt doing it for valentine just
then.  Men loved to get oral sex, but I was one of those girls who didn't
find the idea of going down on a man particularly exciting.  I'd do it for
William, once in awhile, but he was a virgin and hadn't wanted too much
attention down there anyway.  Valentine was anything but a virgin, of
course, and I felt his fingers in my short hair, coaxing me to give him
pleasure.

   I did my best, wanting it to be good for him, despite my inexperience. I
licked around the head and down the shaft, kissing his flesh and taking the
man's heavy balls in my hand.  I played with them carefully, enjoying the
weight of them, wondering how much sperm he might have.  He was a
prostitute afterall, and it seemed likely there would be little, but he was
growing hard, his penis stiffening to it's full majestic size, and I took
that as a good sign.

   "In your mouth, Jen...Please...that feels so good..." He was whispering
and I could do nothing but what he asked, prostitute or not.  I opened my
mouth and pressed my stretched lips around the head, moving my tongue over
it as I tried to take more of him.  Part of me, a very small part, rebelled
at this, wondering if I wasn't tasting some other woman's cunt right then,
but it was a foolish thought.  I tried to concentrate on taking as much of
Valentine as I could, but he was large and thick, and I gagged slightly as
his cockhead felt the back of my mouth.

   He didn't seem to mind though and my ears were filled with words of
encouragement.  I wasn't very good, I knew, but he was the consummate
lover, patient and generous.  I went down on him for 15 minutes perhaps, no
more than that, but it seemed both longer and shorter.  My jaw was tired
and wetness ran down my chin as I looked up at him.  He was smiling and
stroking my hair, lifting me to my feet and telling me it was his turn.

   I was fairly trembling with excitement when Valentine undressed me. 
Pulling my sweatshirt over my head at first, exposing my own larger female
breasts.  He played with them, kissing my skin and telling me how handsome
I was, how masculine and sexy my body was, and if her was patronizing me I
wasn't aware of it.  I believed every word the man uttered and I groaned as
he chewed my nipples, using his teeth and giving me a subtle mix of
pleasure and pain that I'd never dreamt of before.  It was as if he knew
exactly where to touch me, where to bite and nibble and suck.  I could have
cum I think just from the attention he was giving my tits and I was
reminded of William who loved me much the same way, but with nowhere near
this result.

   When Valentine lifted his mouth I had to fight the urge to pull him
back, but I wanted so much more as well.  It was his turn to kneel, and he
did so easily, kissing my body as he moved until his hands were removing my
shoes and then my socks, caressing my feet for several minutes, like a
tease that felt too good to resist.  I'd never had a man touch my feet like
that and I wished I were sitting, or lying down, wondering what this man
could do with me then.  He'd probably have me swimming in girl goo, I
thought, with a little smile.

   It was short lived however as Valentine made me groan, pressing a hand
against my sex through my trousers, bringing my clit to throbbing life with
the momentary flash of pressure.  He smiled up at me, asking me if I wanted
him to take off my pants yet, and that was such a foolish question it made
me giggle like a little boy.

   "Oh God..." I moaned, watching as Valentine undid my trousers, his
nimble fingers making short work of my belt and buttons.  He unzipped me
slowly, letting my pants come down slowly so that I could feel the cool air
on my bare thighs.  He helped me step out of the legs one at a time, my
hands on his shoulders.  I could see his penis between his legs, still
hard, bobbing up and down playfully as he moved.  I thought I'd never seen
anything so sexy in my life as that beautiful man on his knees right then.

   He massaged my sex through the tightness of my briefs, teasing me,
kissing my thighs and blowing hot moist air across my skin.  Valentine
moved his arms between my legs, using them to force my feet apart,
spreading myself for him as he reached up to feel my taut ass in his hands.
He squeezed me like that, his hands reaching from below and pressed his
mouth to the faint contours of my pussy, kissing and licking at the soft
cotton of my underwear.  I was practically begging him to release me, to
give me direct contact with his mouth.  My stomach was churning wildly and
my sex clasping like a starving mouth, dying to be filled.

   "I don't want to make you cum." He smiled up at me, knowing I was on
edge already and I'd only just gotten my pants off.  "Not until I'm inside
you, Jen." His voice was husky with lust, or something so close to it that
I wouldn't know the difference in a thousand years.

   He kissed my sex once more, gave my ass one last squeeze, and then he
was rising, bringing me to the bed.  I sat down on it, feeling the mattress
give only a little beneath the slinky satin sheets.  Valentine was opening
the drawer of the closest nightstand and I watched him, regaining my
breath, willing my heart to slow down.  I wasn't sure what he was doing
until I saw that he was holding a small package, a condom, tearing the foil
with his fingers.

   "Do you have to wear that?" I asked him.

   "I'm not on the pill." He said, looking at me.  "Are you ovulating?"

   I thought about lying to him, I confess, but that would have been
impossible at that point.  "I don't know." I licked my lips, looking into
his blue eyes.  "Do you have to?"

   "I don't want us to get pregnant." His voice was soft, reasonable and I
knew it wasn't my decision.  "Bareback..." He smiled, perhaps wishing for a
new language just then, "...it costs extra if you really want it."

   I nodded quickly, whatever he wanted would be worth it.  "How much?" I
asked, feeling no embarrassment at all, and I wondered what had changed so
much in the last half hour or so.

   "Two hundred more." He said, holding the condom in his hand so I could
see it.  The foil was torn, just a little.  "It'll still be good, I
promise." He kissed my thigh.  "You won't even know the difference."

   I didn't have two hundred dollars on me.  I barely had that much back in
my room, my weekly allowance from my parents wasn't but a hundred dollars.
I wanted to feel him though, his skin against mine, I wanted to feel his
sperm swimming inside me, mixing with my own fertile juices, and then the
great unknown, the small chance that maybe I'd climax, we'd get pregnant,
this beautiful man and myself, this Valentine that I was falling in love
with.

   I nodded weakly, surrendering to his decision and taking comfort in
knowing that my regret would be a small one at least.  I believed Valentine
when he told me it would still feel good, and besides, I told myself,
condoms break all the time.  I watched as he pulled the thin latex sheath
free of the package, holding it out for me.

   "Do you want to put it on me?" he asked, and I nodded dumbly.  I'd never
touched a condom before in my life, except once in my old Sex Ed class. 
We'd all taken a turn putting a condom on a male dummy's penis, laughing
and teasing each other.  But Valentine was no dummy, and there were handy
instructions written on the blackboard, still, it wasn't all that hard to
do, except for my nervousness.

   "Some girls like to put it on with their mouths." Valentine said. 
"Pinch the tip, leave some room." He was speaking gently and not laughing
at me at all.  Just telling me how to do it, smiling and rubbing my
shoulder.

   "How do they do I do it with my mouth?" I asked him, deciding if I was
going to have safe-sex I might as well get my money's worth, so to speak.

   "Just get it started, not too far..." he watched as I rolled the condom
down a little, just to the widest part of the head, around the ridge-like
crown, "...now just put your lips around it and push." He smiled and I kept
my eyes up, looking at him as I did it, but of course my lips slipped right
off.  But that was okay, a couple tries later and I found it wasn't so hard
afterall.  I managed to get the condom halfway down his cock, straining the
back of my mouth against his cockhead as I did so.

   "Mmmm..." Now you know." He said and I used my fingers the rest of the
way, smoothing the latex down his shaft as far as it would go, leaving a
bare inch, or maybe two of exposed skin between the base of his cock and
the rubber.

   "You have the most beautiful cock I've ever seen." I told him seriously,
wanting to say that since I'd first seen it.

   "Thank you." He giggled and stood there, sexy as hell and ready for sex.
"How do you want to do it?" He was enjoying himself, I could tell, and he
might even have thought I was a virgin, for all I knew.  I doubted he asked
many other girls what position they wanted though, more likely they knew
already and pushed and pulled him into the place they wanted him.  Wasn't
that what you were supposed to do with a prostitute?  I had no idea and it
was hard for me to remember that he was really bought and paid for.

   "Just, um...Just missionary?" I said, but it sounded like a question. 
That was the only way I'd done it, the man on his back, me straddling his
legs, fucking him in the oldest position in the book.  Or maybe the oldest
was..."Uh, doggy style." I changed my mind and I even blushed a little, but
Valentine didn't seem to notice.

   "That's my favorite." He nodded, smiling and reaching for my underwear.
I lifted my ass, letting him pull my briefs down my thighs and legs. 
"Mmmm...nice, you have a big clit." He said in his husky voice, reaching
with his hands to spread my thighs a little.  "Nice and hard too."

   I knew my clit wasn't that big, but he sounded sincere and it made me
feel good.  It was the size of his pinky finger, just the tip really, all
of half an inch long, but hard and pink and throbbing.  He touched it, just
barely, stroking it and I shivered.  I was close, very close and I think
Valentine wanted to kiss it for me, suck it and make me feel really good,
but we both knew that if he did, I'd cum.  Once I came he wouldn't get that
beautiful cock inside me for twenty minutes at least, my hymen would close,
ignorant of the empty void inside me.  When I came I wanted him inside.

   I was soon on the bed, on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder
at Valentine as he knelt behind me.  I groaned as I felt the head of his
cock rubbing along my slit.  He teased me with it, deliberately I think,
making me quiver with anticipation.  I was moving my hips, pressing back
against him, begging with my body for his sweet penetration.

   "Put it in, Val...Please...I'm so close, baby..."I finally had to urge
him and he smiled, brushing his golden hair back out of his face.  I was
almost ready to speak again when I felt it, that unique sexual sensation of
my labia being split slowly, yielding around his bulbous head, and then the
inner lips, protesting weakly as it had been some months since I'd enjoyed
the pleasure.  He pushed with slow deliberation, holding my wide hips,
keeping me still against all of my instincts.  He was pushing in, deeper
and deeper and I could feel my tight muscles resisting and then
surrendering, one by one.

   It was like a fire was being lit between my legs, or a fuse burning
deeper and deeper towards my womb.  I clenched my teeth against the
pleasure which had quickly overwhelmed the slight discomfort of being
stretched.  His cock was fat and long and it seemed never ending and I
wondered if he'd reach all the way to my cervix.  He didn't, but it had to
be close.  I was breathing hard and the butterflies were swarming in my
stomach, the fireflies blinking behind my tightly shut eyes.  Oh how I
wished he was unsheathed inside me.  I was so close, the slightest movement
could set me off now.

   And we did move.  I felt his skin against my ass, his cock as deep as
possible, his heavy balls brushing my erect little clit, or so I imagined.
And he backed out slowly, not all the way, but close, and then pushed deep
once more, faster and harder, pulling me with him and I felt on of his
hands reaching down, underneath me, looking for my clit and he was all the
way inside when I felt his fingers, just that slight pressure, the little
circular motion that I knew was coming.  It set me off like an explosion.

   I couldn't breath suddenly, and my heart stopped as my whole body just
seemed to collapse in on my cunt, surrounding Valentine's cock, squeezing
him suddenly.  I was cumming hard, like I'd cum only rarely before.  My
senses were lost and I was only aware of his cock sliding back and forth,
tugging at my hymen occasionally as if he might withdraw completely and
couldn't.  And my muscles were rippling around him, trying to contain the
man, to hold his cock deep inside me, coaxing him to join me and spill his
seed into my womb.

   He fucked me for five minutes I think, or maybe even ten, I had no
ability to tell.  All I knew was that unlike every other man I'd been with,
Valentine wasn't cumming, at least not immediately.  He had some
self-control, some iron discipline perhaps, able to ignore the sensations
of my cunt squeezing his penis, stroking him with a rhythm as much like
swallowing as anything else.  I was pushing myself back against him,
rolling my hips, groaning with delight at the feeling of his cock moving
inside me.  And when he did finally cum I felt him slamming his cock as
deep as possible, even deeper than before, and the head did find the
entrance to my womb finally, touching my cervix and making me gasp, the
strength failing my arms so that all I could do was collapse onto the bed,
my ass in the air.

   Valentine was moaning softly, his sweet voice joining mine as his penis
jerked and spasmed uselessly inside me.  He pressed himself down on top of
me, pushing me flat until my legs were straight, my body pinned to the bed
with his body straddling me.  His mouth was on my ear, kissing me and
urging me to turn my head.  We kissed hard, our tongues fighting for
passionate supremacy between open gasping mouths.  My body burned and his
weight was like a heavy blanket, comforting without suffocating.  We stayed
like that, kissing and moving our hips, working ourselves together while my
cunt spasmed uncontrollably, prolonging his orgasm for five, ten and then
fifteen minutes at least.

   When it was over, when my body had decided I'd bathed in his
non-existent sperm long enough, my muscles relaxed.  My hymen loosened
around him, releasing his penis and he slipped out of me quickly, knowing
all too well that I was desperately anxious to cum once more.  I was primed
for it, for another orgasm, to lock Valentine's beautiful cock inside me
for another long round of fucking.  But he denied me that pleasure, as he
had to I suppose.

   "Like this..." he whispered, unwilling to leave me completely wanting.
He brought his mouth to my sex, which was soaked with fluid, all of it
mine. It had spilled out of me with his penis and he turned me, pushing me
so he could lick my clitoris, taking it into his mouth like a tiny cock.  I
was thrusting my hips, my fingers digging into his hair, damp with sweat
from his efforts to please me.  I held him tight, my thighs closing against
his flushed cheeks and I came again, this time with nothing inside me but
the man's tongue.

   I sprayed my juices into his hungry mouth, feeling his lips move as he
swallowed.  I was flooding him, my second orgasm nearly as good as the
first and he continued to lick and kiss and swallow for many long minutes
after, while my cunt spasmed as before, but with nothing to work themselves
against.  It still felt good, like an endless series of mini-orgasms, but
it wasn't the same either.  I was empty inside, and all my juices poured
through me, into Valentine's tender mouth.

   Valentine was without a doubt the best lover I'd had in my life.  Even
without feeling his sperm inside me, it had been intense and wonderful. 
He'd kept his mouth on my sex for so long that my clit had begun to scream
in protest, becoming all of a sudden too tender for any more of his
attention, and that was when I pulled him up, heedless of my juices, just
needing him right then to hold and kiss.  I tasted myself on him and any
other time I would have resisted that possibility as disgusting, but right
then I was beyond caring about such trivial things.  I kissed him and let
him rest against me until my body finally began to calm.

   "I love you." I whispered, not caring if it sounded stupid, or naïve, it
was how I felt and he didn't laugh at me.

   "No you don't." Valentine kissed me, snuggling his body to mine,
pressing his cheek to my right breast.  "You love that other man, the one
we left in the bar." He sighed softly.  "But it's a nice thought anyway. 
Thank you."

   End of 2

   To be continued immediately Rache696@yahoo.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm
Final Note: I haven't written a long love scene in awhile, so this
seemed like a good chance to do it and check out alien sex at the same

time. Fifty bucks was waaaaay too cheap.




   

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