My Weekend in Portland -- Chapter 9 of 15 (MF FF MFF)

By Chaz Thain

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WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
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When I woke an hour later, Ruth was still deeply asleep, so I
eased out of bed and dressed quietly. Downstairs I let myself out
and got in my rental car for a little shopping. Some time later I
let myself back into the townhouse carrying a brown paper bag.
Tiptoeing into her bedroom, I added the fifth volume of Ruth's
journal to the bag.

I woke Ruth and we cuddled for awhile before going downstairs for
a light dinner at her kitchen counter, just a few mouthfuls of
omelette and a glass of wine apiece. I made sure Ruth's glass was
a large one. Then I ordered her to put on her trench coat and
tennis shoes (and nothing else) because we were going out. But I
wouldn't tell her where. I grabbed my shopping bag on the way out
the door.

I drove, and 20 minutes later we pulled up outside a middle-sized
apartment complex on the southwest side. I carefully studied the
buildings, then pulled into a parking space in front of one.

"WHAT are you doing?" Ruth said uneasily.

"It's a surprise," I replied cheerfully.

Turning off the car I leaned over, kissed her deeply and thrust
my hand under her coat. There wasn't room between her thighs for
me to reach her sex, and she wouldn't spread them to admit my
questing hand.

"Open your legs," I ordered irritably, breaking the kiss. I had a
feeling her resistance stemmed from uncertainty, being out in the
open away from the warmth and security of her home. But I
intended to overwhelm her reluctance.

Ruth's legs parted and I delved into her pussy with my middle
finger while resuming my rough kisses. Her breath hissed through
her nostrils and she moaned into my mouth as my finger pressed
into her opening and discovered wetness. I pushed deeper and she
moaned again. My finger could go no farther.

I pulled my finger out and spread slick juices up her slit
towards her sensitive little bump. Then I pushed inside her
again, rewarded by more wetness, and again pulled out to
lubricate her clitoris. She broke our kiss for a few seconds,
gasping for air, then furiously attacked my mouth with hers,
driving her tongue inside. Lightly my finger rubbed up and down,
stroking her channel and clit. She was moaning steadily now,
building quickly towards an orgasm. I marveled at how responsive
she was.

Then I stopped, pulled my hand out of her crotch and broke our
kiss.

"You're not STOPPING!" she cried with frustration, staring at me
wide-eyed.

"Yes," I said, "It's time to continue our adventure."

"You are a BASTARD!" Ruth hissed angrily. The top of her coat had
fallen open and I could see her right nipple in the faint light,
swollen and dark with arousal. I got out of the car, stopping for
a moment to rearrange my erect dick in my pants. Carrying my bag,
I walked around and helped Ruth out of the car. She was angrily
tugging her coat into place.

I led her into the building and upstairs to the second floor.
Checking apartment numbers, I stopped in front of #206 and
knocked.

"Don't speak or do anything unless I give you permission," I
ordered Ruth. She gave me a brief glare that faded into an
expression of timid curiosity.

The door opened a few moments later and I heard Ruth's gasp of
surprise.

"Hi, Denise," I said. "Do you mind if we come in?"

Denise A----- was barefoot, wearing a pair of silky, gray harem
pants and a tight-fitting sleeveless top of some soft, black
material. It nicely displayed the shape of her small, round
breasts. She knew Ruth, but she was struggling to remember why my
face was familiar. She stepped back and I walked inside, pulling
a stunned Ruth with me by the arm.

"We're sorry to just drop in," I said. "I hope we're not
interrupting anything?"

"No, no, I'm staying home tonight," Denise said, still puzzled.
"I know I know you, but can't remember where we met."

I reintroduced myself and jogged her memory. We had worked on a
couple of projects together.

"Yes, yes, I remember. How are you? How is San Francisco?" Denise
said, glancing at Ruth. "How are you, Ruth?"

Ruth was silent, eyes downcast. Denise paused, then turned back
to me and continued our conversation, her curiosity clearly
growing. I said nothing to enlighten her, chatting aimlessly
about mutual acquaintances and my new job in San Francisco as she
closed the door.

Denise motioned us toward a wide, comfortable couch in front of
her muted TV. I followed her, but Ruth took only one hesitant
step before stopping indecisively, eyes on the floor.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Denise asked me, and turning,
"Ruth?"

Ruth remained silent and motionless.

"What's wrong with her?" Denise asked.

"She can't move or speak without my permission," I said.

"Excuuuuse me!" Denise said, half amused, half disbelieving.

"Ruth has agreed to be my slave," I said, deadpan. "She can't
move or talk without my permission."

"What's going on here?" Denise demanded warily.

"Ruth was the one who got me downsized last year," I explained.
"She convinced Tucker my job was redundant, and later she began
to feel pretty bad about it. So when I showed up at the office
yesterday, she invited me to dinner and offered to be my slave
for 48 hours, to relieve her guilt."

Denise stared at me, wide-eyed.

"Last night she agreed to do anything I ordered for 48 hours. If
it's not illegal or life-threatening," I added.

Denise was surprised, but I she also seemed intrigued and a
little doubtful. She looked from me to Ruth.

"Ruth, is this true?" she asked.

"You can answer, Ruth."

"Yes," Ruth said in a whisper, her face flushed a bright pink. "I
am his slave."

Considering for a moment, Ruth asked, "But why did you come
here?"

"That's a long story. Do you mind if we sit down?"

Taking off my jacket, I dropped it on a chair and put the paper
bag on top. I sat at one end of Denise's couch and she sat facing
me at the other end. I motioned Ruth to stand in front of the
couch. Denise looked at her curiously, then at me.

"Ruth, has normal needs and desires, but incredibly strong
inhibitions," I began. "Becoming my slave allowed her to satisfy
her desires."

"In ... other ... words," Denise said slowly, glancing back and
forth at us with a smile, "you two have been fucking non-stop
since last night?"

"That's right," I grinned, pleased at her humor and open mind.
"Maybe this won't be a long story after all."

"That still doesn't tell me why you're here," Denise prompted,
still smiling.

I looked at Ruth. If anything, her flush was deeper than before,
her eyes closed, her head shaking slightly from side to side.

"We're here because Ruth is obsessed with you," I said. "Beyond
that, I don't know. It's up to you."

"Obsessed? What do you mean obsessed," Denise said, staring at
me, then at Ruth. I could see a flush rising in her face.

"This should explain everything," I said, leaning over to pull
Ruth's journal out of the  shopping bag.


(End of Chapter 9)

----------------------------------------------------------------
WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for
readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where
they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it
may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and
criticism.
----------------------------------------------------------------
