Author: Julian Coreto
Title: Alan
Part: 9
Summary: Alan learns more about the ring and his powers.  The family next door has a cute British au pair
Keywords: mc MF Mdom virg


Chapter 9
A New Friend

It was the Sunday night, the last night of spring break.  Alan spent the day completing his 
assignments for school, and by early evening he was done.  He fiddled around on the computer 
for a bit, surfing sites and reading e-mails, but by eight o'clock he was bored.  "The Simpsons" 
was a rerun so he had decided not to watch.  With nothing much to do Alan began to clean his 
desk and organize his papers, but before he had made much progress he came upon the ring.

He had enclosed it in a sheet of notebook paper and some tape, and when he drew it out from the 
desk drawer it took him half a second to realize what it was. Slowly he unwrapped it.  It just 
looked like a regular ring now, not glowing or buzzing like it had before.  He examined it 
closely; it was silver but badly tarnished, unsurprisingly because it was two-and-a-half millennia 
old.  He decided to polish it, and as he put it down on the desk it began glowing and vibrating.  
He picked it up again, and it stopped.  Palming it in his left hand he went downstairs and grabbed 
a rag and his mom's silver polish and quickly returned to his room, closing the door behind him.  
He had never polished silver before so he didn't know if he should apply the polish to the ring 
directly or first to the rag.  He scooped out some polish, a gooey pink substance, and rubbed it on 
the rag with the tips of his fingers, then placed the ring in the center of the moist part of the rag, 
folded it over, and began to rub the ring through it.  After a few seconds he stopped to check his 
progress and saw that the ring was now gleaming.

"Should I try it on?" he asked himself silently.  He was still new to his powers, and he didn't 
know what the ring would do to them.  He put the ring down again so he could continue to think.  
This time the glow from the ring was intense, so intense that the light was almost blinding, and 
when he reached down to pick it up again, in hopes of stopping the terrible light from damaging 
his eyes he was chagrined to see that it was not abated. "For some reason this ring wants me to 
wear it," Alan was figuring out, so he slipped it on his finger, the middle finger of his right hand.  
He didn't know why he chose that finger, but it felt right.

Instantly the light faded, and after a few seconds it had stopped completely.

"Alan," he heard his mother call from downstairs, "Were you expecting company?  There's 
someone at the door for you."

Alan went downstairs and saw his parents speaking to his unexpected guest.  He wasn't quite 
sure who this man was, but he was certain that he had something to do with the ring, the Ring of 
Ko'un-Zir.

"Ah, there you are Alan," the man began.  He had an accent, European for sure, it sounded like 
to Alan.  He couldn't tell if it was French or British because it sounded like a little of each.  "It's 
nice to meet you at last."  His parents were at a loss, and he could see his father about to say 
something, but instead he took his mother and they walked away from Alan and the stranger, and 
up the stairs.

"I don't want to be rude or anything, but who are you?"

"Awfully sorry young man, frightfully discourteous thing to do. Well, you know, manners were 
never my string suit.  I am Jean-Pierre Massimo, and I am here because of you.  Because you are 
wearing the ring."

"I've heard of you!  The man at the mus--" Alan stopped short, not wanting to tell Massimo that 
he had stolen the Ring of Ko'un-Zir from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. "You're an 
archaeologist, that's uh, that's where I've heard of you."

"And you, young man, you are the vessel of one of the Seeds of Paishiya'uvada."

"What are you talking about?" Alan bluffed.

"Please don't patronize me Alan.  You are a vessel of the Seed.  There are five Seeds in 
existence, and you contain one.  You received it last month in the hospital from its former vessel, 
a man named Grossman."

"I didn't know his name."  A few seconds later Alan realized he had blown his bluff.

"So, the lies are over, thank goodness."


"How did you know?  Did the ring tell you?  I know you found it in Iraq many years ago, so you 
must know something about it.  Please Mr. Massimo, I know virtually nothing about the Seed, 
and less about the Ring of Ko'un-Zir."

"Patience my son, all in good time.  And by the way, it's 'Dr. Massimo.'"

"Sorry."

"Call me Jack.  Everybody does."  He laughed.

They went into the living room and sat across from each other.  Alan noticed that Jack was also 
wearing a ring identical to his own, but he held his tongue, wishing for Jack to tell him more.

"Just out of curiosity, do you know which of the Seeds you contain?" Jack asked him.

"Uh, yeah.  My Seed is the Seed of Hyrcanus."

"Really!  Well I'll say!  Excellent, excellent." He clapped his hand on his knee.  "The first of 
them all, well met!"  He paused before continuing, leaning closer to Alan as if to confide, "I am 
the vessel of the third Seed, the Seed of Cyaxares." 

Alan had a million questions, and Dr. Massimo could see him chomping at the bit to ask them.  
"Right, right.  You are dying to ask me some questions, but please, all in good time.  I am used to 
lecturing, so you'll have to indulge me.

"So, about a month past you became the vessel of the Seed.  And earlier this week you 'acquired' 
the Ring of Ko'un-Zir at the museum in Manhattan, correct?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"After the firing and arrest of Dr. Swindon-Smythe I realized that someone had found my ring at 
the museum, and I had to rush there to rectify the situation."

"Oh Jeez! He was arrested? That's awful."  Alan dropped his eyes, ashamed of himself.

"Oh, I fixed it for the chap.  He's back on staff--as you Yanks say, 'No harm, no foul.'  
However, if your powers had been more advanced this would not have happened.  Before I leave 
here tonight you must promise me to practice."

"But I don't really know what I'm doing.  How am I going to practice?  Is there a manual or 
something?"

Jack chuckled. "Sorry young man, there's no set of instructions.  Just find a quiet hour to 
exercise your powers.  You don't need to meditate, you need not concentrate.  Just exercise your 
powers like you would your body.  The better you become using the skills you know you have, 
the easier it will be to discover new ones."

"How did you find me?"

"Oh simple really.  I had the chief of security at the museum review all of the videotape from last 
Monday, and then I 'hired' a private investigator to track you down.  He found your cousin Nina 
first because she lives in New York.  I paid her a visit this morning and she told me where you 
live.  The clumsy alterations Swindon-Smythe made in the curatorial databases pinpointed the 
time of your visit, so thankfully we didn't have to sit through watching hours upon hours of 
videotape.  It was quite easy, really.  A lesson to you for the future to cover your tracks better, 
what ho.

"And now we come to the ineffable motive of my contact: the ring.  How much do you know 
about the creation of the Seeds?"

Alan told him about the incident when he passed out and found the story written in his notebook, 
and he even went upstairs and retrieved it to show to his visitor.

"Very good, very good.  I hope you are keeping this in a safe place?  You might think about a 
safe-deposit box." Alan agreed.

"So, after Ko'un-Zir destroyed the Orbis Tertius he had five rings fashioned from the metal.  He 
took the orb to Achnai the Smith, the best metal worker in all of Mesopotamia.  To prevent it 
from ever being used as a weapon against the vessels, Achnai melted the orb down in his oven 
and then mixed the pure silver of the orb with base metals, but before he did this Ko'un-Zir had 
him set aside enough slag to make the five rings."

"What do the rings do?  Do they increase my power?"

"No, not really.  They may help you to develop them faster.  Your learning curve will shorten, 
and your mastery of your abilities will intensify.  You will be able to discover the limits of the 
Seed better."

"Do all of the vessels find rings?"

"No, as of yet only two have been found.  Both of them be me, as a matter of fact.  But I'm not 
here for a pat on the back, don't you know, don't you know."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?  Is there something you need to tell me?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I have never met another vessel, though I was close to tracking 
down Grossman when he met his end.  I left the ring at the Met on the off-chance that another 
vessel might encounter it there. Since New York is a major tourist attraction, and the museum is 
one of the most visited places there, I figured it was the best place for it."  He paused a bit before 
continuing, "I must say, I'm frightfully excited to meet you."

They talked for awhile longer, Dr. Massimo suggesting a few exercises for Alan to do to develop 
his powers, and when the hour grew late Jack took his leave, suggesting he would drop in again, 
but making no promises. He left an address, care of a Swiss bank, which he told Alan would 
forward any messages.

* * *

The next Saturday morning Alan was up with the birds.  Since he had been setting aside an hour 
each day to exercise his Seed powers he was finding that he could get by with about half the 
sleep he previously needed.  There was a club ride this morning and he decided to go.  The local 
bicycling club sponsored group rides every weekend of the year, but Alan really didn't like to 
ride in very cold weather, so it had been months since he last joined a ride.  As he was wheeling 
his bike down the driveway he was startled by a voice.  "Hello there!  Hello, you on the bike?"  
He looked across the road and saw a girl dressed for cycling.  She was doing stretching exercises 
as she called out to him, and Alan crossed the road to talk to her.

"Hello," she offered a gloved hand, "I'm Chloe, the Anderson's au pair.  And you are?"

"Alan, Alan Marshall.  I live there," he answered, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder to 
his house.

"Nice to meet you Alan Alan Marshall," she joked, and they both grinned at each other.

"I don't think I've seen you before.  Are you new?" Alan was enjoying the conversation; Chloe's 
sexy British accent was nice to listen to.

"I just started a few weeks ago.  The Andersons are away at Mrs. Anderson's mum's in 
Connecticut, so I'm free this weekend.  Just thought I'd take a spin around the town and have a 
look.  Where are you headed?"

Alan explained about the club ride.  "Forget that," he told her, "Do you want to ride with me?  
I'll blow off that other thing."

"Sure," she answered, and they set off.  "I hope you can keep up with me.  I'm a serious rider, 
unlike most of you Americans."

"Do you want to set the pace, or shall I?" he asked back, a small smirk evident.

"Better off you, I don't think you'd be able to keep up with me.  My chums and I ride long 
distances back in England."

They mounted up and Alan led her down the road, keeping a moderate pace.  After they'd 
covered a couple of miles they reached the old state highway, a thoroughfare which saw little 
regular vehicular traffic, less so on the weekends, and almost deserted on a weekend in the 
morning.  The road was built in the 1930s, and unlike the new highway, which had been built 
three decades later, it was unevenly graded, rolling hills and valleys of asphalt.  Alan picked up 
the pace and Chloe stayed with him.  After a few more up-and-down miles he accelerated again, 
popping up out of the saddle to power his way up a particularly steep hill, or as it was called in 
the parlance of cycling, "a good hill."  As he neared the crest he turned to see how Chloe was 
faring, and he could see her struggle to climb the incline.  She too was up out of the saddle, and 
he could tell she was huffing and puffing.  

He faced forward again and shifted out of his climbing ring into the small one.  As he zipped 
down the hill he cranked the pedals hard, and by the computer on his handlebars he saw he was 
approaching seventy miles per hour.  Quickly coming to another hill, albeit a smaller one, he 
shifted again and climbed it almost effortlessly, his momentum helping him traverse it.  He 
hammered on the pedals for another couple of miles or so and then pulled to the side of the road 
and waited for Chloe to catch up.  He was sitting leaned up against a tree facing the road, his 
bike resting against the opposite side, taking long pulls from his water bottle as she pulled up to 
him, gasping for breath.  She laid her bike on the ground gently, walked up to him and fell to her 
knees in exhaustion.  He pulled a second water bottle from the rear pocket of his racing jersey 
and held it out for her, and she grabbed it from him gratefully, falling down on her side as she 
did so.  She pulled the valve open with her teeth, squeezed some water into her mouth, swished it 
around a bit and then spat, immediately returning the bottle to her mouth and sucking water like 
she had just crossed a desert.  In less than half a minute she had drained the whole thing, and she 
just stayed down on the grass, breathing heavily, occasionally letting loose a groan.

"Sorry about that," he said to her.  She didn't answer immediately, marshalling her energy and 
respiration.

"I should be apologizing to you.  I thought I was teasing you.  Americans aren't supposed to be 
good a cycling!  They all drive cars and never exercise. You had to go and pull a David Millar on 
me!"

"Figures you would pick a British cyclist!" he roared in laughter, and she began to chuckle as 
well.  "What I did was more of a Jacky Durand, you know, pulling away from the pack on a long 
and unadvised escape.  Hey, we Yanks can bike, or have you let Lance slip your mind?"

She had managed to pull herself upright by now and was looking at him with interest.  "So, you 
know a bit about racing do you?  Well, you managed to tear up the road this morning.  I haven't 
been dropped on a ride in more than three years!  David Millar's got nothing on you."

"Well, I wouldn't say that!  I've never won a stage in the Tour de France, nor have I worn the 
yellow jersey like him.  Though you know, of course, that he only wore the yellow because of a 
fluke."

"You take that back!" and they both laughed.  Alan pulled two bananas from his jersey and gave 
her one, and they munched in silence for a moment.  As she stood up to go back to her bike she 
squealed, grabbing her thigh and collapsing to the grass.  "CRAMP!"

"Do you need me to help?"

"Cheeky chap, aren't we?  Trying to get near my knickers right off the whistle, eh?" she taunted 
through gritted teeth.  Alan went over to her and began massaging the bothersome thigh, and 
using the Seed caused her knotted muscles to relax.  "Mmmm, lovely, bloody nice."  After a 
short while he helped her up and they remounted their bikes.

Alan unzipped his seat pack and pulled out a small bottle of Tylenol, and gave her two.  She 
popped them in her mouth and pulled her water bottle from the cage on her bike, and swallowed 
them down.  "Thanks love!" she said to him, flashing a dazzling smile. 

"Do you want to keep riding, or should we head back?"

"Back, I think.  Ugh! I don't fancy riding those hills again."

"We'll go another way.  Through the streets.  More traffic, less hills, but a slightly longer route 
OK?"

She nodded, and they were off.

* * *

"Look, I feel bad about pushing you so hard out there," Alan told her as they pulled onto their 
street, "Let a guy take you out for breakfast?"

"Lovely, mate.  Let me just shower off.  Meet you at your house in thirty?"

"Cool with me."

Half an hour later Alan watched her amble across the road up to his door.  He was waiting on the 
porch, having quickly cleaned up and changed.  As he watched her approach he was taken aback 
by her looks.  She was almost as tall as him, probably 5'9", and she had a killer body.  He had 
noticed it before, when she was dressed in her tight cycling gear, but seeing her in a pair of tight 
jeans and form-fitting blouse she was absolutely stunning.  Her long blonde hair, which had been 
tucked into her helmet under a bandana before, was tied in a ponytail, and he hadn't noticed her 
eyes because she had been wearing sunglasses on the ride.  They were pale blue, and gorgeous.  
Alan intercepted her in the driveway, and led her to his car.  They went to a coffee shop in town 
and ate heartily, their appetites stoked by the ride.

"So, tell me about yourself," he asked her.

"Oh I'm just a London girl spending a wee bit in the colonies.  Figure I'll spend a half a year 
with the Andersons and then see a bit of this great land of yours before I head back home to 
University."

"How old are you?"

"Well, that's not a gentlemanly thing to ask a lady, you know!  But of you must know, I'm 
eighteen.  Just finished 'high school' as you Yanks call it, and have been an au pair here in the 
states since last summer.  I go back in September."

"Where were you before the Andersons?"

"I was in a small town in Pennsylvania, and I couldn't be happier to be out of there!  Thank god 
the mum there decided to quit her job and send me back to the agency.  But enough about me, 
mate, tell me about you."

"Oh, well, there's nothing much to tell.  I'm in my last year of high school, and then I'm off to 
college in the fall.  Columbia in New York City, though I'm hesitant to inform you that 
Columbia used to be called King's College until we got wise and threw off the yoke of British 
oppression. "  She thought that was funny, and told him she was envious. She would be willing 
to cut off an arm to get the chance to live in New York City.

"So that's it?  You just go to school and nothing else?  Surely there's more to you?  I mean it's 
not everyday you meet a guy who is both handsome and can drop a cyclist like me.  Hmmm, 
girlfriend?"

"There is one girl I'm seeing now."

"Tell me."

He told her about Pauline, how they were friends for many years and then they went out for a bit, 
and stopped, and then started up again recently.  "That's sweet," she said.

"So, you, boyfriend?"

"Nah, not at the moment.  It's frustrating you know?  Haven't had a good snog in a long time. 
You sleeping with Pauline?"  She figured she would get a blush out of him, but he was 
nonplussed.

"Yep.  Her and a few others to be truthful."

"Really.  Now I am fascinated.  Do tell."

"I took Pauline's virginity a few days ago, but I'm also sleeping with her older sister, whom I 
have turned into a sex slave.  I'm also fucking my English teacher, and her next door neighbor.  
The two of them are also sleeping together."

Chloe's eyes were as wide as the English Channel.  She had almost choked on her coffee, and 
her hands were shaking as she returned the cup to her saucer.  "What did you just say?"

"I think you heard me right."

"How?  How?  How are you doing this?  I mean you are a tasty treat to look at, as I'm sure 
you've been told,"  Alan grinned at her waiting for her to continue, "But I mean good god man, I 
never would have pegged you for some sort of a satyr."

"There's an easy explanation.  I have the power to control minds, among other powers."

"Now you're just making up stories."

"Want to see a demonstration?"

"Not likely!"

"See that waitress over there?  I'll make her drop those plates of food she's got."  Chloe turned, 
and watched her do it.

"That doesn't bloody prove anything!"

"What kind of proof do you need?"

"Do something to me.  Me mum and I went to a hypnotist's show once and he chose me from the 
crowd, and I was the only one who he couldn't get to go under.  Try me."

Alan looked at her and gave it a moments thought.  "Open your blouse and show me your tits."

"Yeah, right, boyo!" But as she was protesting she began to unbutton he blouse, and after she 
had pulled her bra down she dropped her hands to her side.  "Nice try, mate.  You didn't even try 
to put me under.  The last chap had a gold watch on a chain."

Alan looked at her chest, and she followed his gaze.  "Oh my stars!  How did you do that?" she 
half-screeched as she rearranged her bra and top to cover herself back up.

"Told you.  And it's not hypnotism.  It's mind control." Chloe got silent, unable to think clearly.  
The waitress, not the one Alan had used in his demonstration, came with the bill, and he paid it.  
They sipped coffee for a while and then he asked if she was ready to leave, and she slowly rose 
from the booth.

"Thanks for breakfast, Alan," she said as he was leaving a tip on the table.  She was still a little 
stunned as he led her back to the car.  As he got in next to her and was about to start the engine 
she put her hand on his arm and said, "Wait."

They sat in silence for a moment until she could finally speak.

"I have a million questions."

"I don't know if I will be able to answer them all, but shoot."

"How did you get these powers?"  Alan gave her a very short version of how he became a Vessel 
of the Seed.

"Interesting.  Completely loony, but interesting.  Uh, next question.  Aren't you taking a risk by 
telling me this?  How do you know I wont call the newspapers, tell the vicar, what have you?"

"No risk at all.  You can't tell anyone about this.  I've altered your mind to make you unable to 
do so."  She looked back at him with a smidgen of fear behind her eyes.

"Are you going to, you know, force me to shag you?"

"No.  Why?  Do you want me to?"  

She laughed a little laugh. "Truth be told, I was going to try to get you to shag me anyway."  
Now it was his turn to laugh a little laugh.

He started the car and headed back.

* * *  

"So, what now?"  They were standing in the Anderson's spacious den; Chloe was barefoot, and 
Alan had been admiring her pretty feet.  She hadn't said much since the coffee shop's parking 
lot, and Alan could see a touch on anxiousness in her.

"What do you want?"

"I'm not sure.  Are you, uh, controlling me now?"

"Not really.  The command I gave you so you wouldn't reveal my secret is a permanent one.  It's 
like a passive control.  That's the only hold I have over you now.  Why do you ask?"

"Well, I uh, I uh feel...randy.  Are you sure you're not doing that to me?"

"Completely.  Do you want me to control you?"

"Well, part of me does, and part of me does not."

"This is a really interesting conversation," he began telling her, but she cut him off.

"You're teasing me now, aren't you, love?"

"Hah! I like it when you call me that.  It's so British and sexy."  She giggled.  "No, I'm not 
teasing you.  This is interesting because you are the first, oh, how shall I put this, 'partner' I've 
ever told about my power."

"Really?  I'm surprised.  It's a bit of a turn on knowing about it."

"Why?" he asked her with a note of surprise in his voice.

"Power is sexy.  Someone once said it's the ultimate aphrodisiac."

"Henry Kissinger, former Secretary of State; though in my house he is generally agreed to be a 
toad-like war criminal.  We're liberals, don't you know."

"Enough politics.  Let's go to my room," she told him as she took his hand and led him to a 
small bedroom at the back of the house, right off the kitchen.

"I've decided.  I want you to control me," she whispered to him as the door shut behind them.

"You don't really have a vote in the matter.  For all you know I've been controlling you since 
this morning."

"This may sound weird, but that's a huge turn-on."

Alan began unbuttoning her blouse, and her breath caught in her throat.  "I'm helpless to stop 
you, love."

"Actually you're not," he shot back, staring deeply into her eyes.

"Well then, I'm not going to in any case," she chuckled.  Alan threw her blouse to the side and 
she reached behind her back to pop the catch on her bra.  She had lovely breasts, though small
smaller even than Pauline's.  Her nipples were exquisite; very tiny, the circumference not much 
greater than that of a dime, but perfectly round aureoles, bright pink with nipples that were so 
pointy they seemed conical when hard, which they were now.

"Oh my, that is nice," she purred in response to his manipulations of her breasts.  "I can't wait 
for you to take off my jeans and knickers."

He was feeling her ass, and said, "Wow these jeans are tight.  It might be a task getting you out 
of them."

"I'm looking forward to it, boyo.  Hey, you're the man with all the powers!  It shouldn't be that 
hard for you to separate me from my knickers, should it?"

Alan just took a few steps back and leaned against her dresser.  She bit her tongue, afraid she had 
insulted him.  All of a sudden she was floating two feet in the air, standing straight up.  "My 
lord!  What are you doing?"

"Just a little demonstration."  

She felt something moving at her waist and was shocked out of her skin to see that her pants 
were being unbuttoned by an invisible hand.  The zipper followed, and in a flash her jeans lay in 
a ball at her feet.  "Bravo!" she called back at him.

"Do you want me to remove your pantiessorry, knickersthis way, or in the usual manner?"

"Hmm, you decide," she giggled.

Alan concentrated and used his power to rip the panties right off of her, the tattered remains 
falling beneath her like so much confetti.

"You sexy beast!"

He floated her across the room and settled her on the bed.  He got down next to her and she 
leaned up at him, kissing him, and thrusting her tongue in his mouth.

"Mmm, tasty," she purred as they disengaged.  Alan put his hand on her exposed pussy, running 
his fingertips through her soft patch of brown pussy hair.  "Not a natural blonde, hmm?"

"No, love. Disappointed?"

"Not really.  You are a sexy thing nonetheless."  He thought for a minute before continuing, "Do 
you want to be?"

"Do I want to be what?" she asked, confused.

"A natural blonde.  I can make it happen."

She thought for a second. "If I say OK, could you change me back later?"

"You bet."

She nodded, and waited for him to do something.  "Well boyo, are you going to do it or not?"

"Already done.  Look down."  She did and gasped.  It was unbelievable and incredibly sexy.  Not 
that her pussy looked all that much more sexy with blonde hair rather than brown, but the idea 
that he could affect her like that with merely a thought was immensely arousing.

"Wow!" She didn't know what else to say.  "What else can you do?"

Alan didn't answer with words, he just fed a finger up her pussy and ran his thumb slowly over 
her clit.

"Double wow!" she panted, her whole body turning an aroused shade of pink as she ground her 
crotch into his hand.  "But I meant, what else can you do with your power?"

"Patience my little British biscuit.  Patience, all in good time."  He fingered her for a few 
minutes and she began to huff and puff.  "You look like you just biked up a big hill, all of that 
gasping for breath."  She managed to laugh through her panting.  He used his free hand to 
undress himself, and when he got his shorts off he used his power to make her look at his cock, 
and orgasm upon catching sight of it.

"AYEEEEE! Yes! OHMYGODINHEAVEN!" Her screaming swiftly gave way to incoherent 
grunting and groaning, and she carried on for close to a minute, her body stiff and shaking as her 
pussy convulsed around his finger.

She gasped and panted for a short while before she was strong enough to speak.  "My, my, my, 
that was lovely.  Was that you or, you know, the power?"

"Does it matter?" he asked her, again looking deep into her pretty blue eyes.

"No," she whispered, "It doesn't.  Wow.  That was the best."

"Nice to know," he told her as he ran his hands up and down her body, causing her to become 
aroused again.

"Mmmm, keep that up," she purred.

"You have an incredible body."

"Thank you, but--"

"But what?"

"I've had complaints."

"Morons!  What is there to complain about this magnificent form?" His began moving his hands 
around with more fervor, and Chloe began to get really excited.  When he reached her breasts 
she put her hands over his and held them there.

"These.  I'm flat-chested.  I've actually lost boyfriends to birds with bigger chests."

"Morons.  A pretty face like yours is much more alluring than a pair of big tits."

"Really," she gasped, returning his gaze, her eyes fixed on his.  "That's one of the nicest things a 
man's ever said to me, in a weird and kinky sort of way."

"So the men in England prefer cows to goddesses?"

"Oh, stop it now.  You're so bad."  She said noting for a minute, luxuriating in the feel of Alan's 
hands on her body.  "I'm this close to getting implants, you know.  But maybe now I wont 
because if you."

"Hmmm."

"What, love?"

Alan replaced his hands on her breasts.  "What are you now, an A cup?" She nodded.  "How 
about now?  A B cup. I think, yes?" She looked down, flabbergasted at the change.

"Oh my word!"

"Like?"

"Yeah.  Not too big, and they're very pretty.  Thank you."  There was a tear in her eye.

"How about a C cup?"  She looked again, and they seemed immense, but before she could say 
anything he had already turned them back to a B.  "C cup is too big, even though you are very 
tall, you are somewhat slim, though they did match your tight and curvy bottom."  She giggled 
despite her state of arousal.

He dipped a finger into her pussy, and after pulling it out held it up to her and showed her.  "I'm 
going to fuck you now."

He got between her legs and put his hands under her ass, lifting her up off the bed .

"You're so big," she hissed, staring down her body and taking in the sight of his hard cock.

"Worried?"

"A little.  I've never seen one so large before.  Be gentle, mmmmmm."  He was rubbing the head 
of his erection up and down her pussy lips.  "It's like I'm a virgin again."

"How old were you when you lost your cherry?"

"Ugh, ah, that's lovely! Uh, what was the question?"

He began to repeat himself, but she cut him off in mid-sentence, "I was mmmmm sixteen, 
mmmmmm."

"Was it a good experience?"

"Not really.  The bloke came in like ten seconds, and I didn't get off, mmmmmm."

"Well, when I take your virginity this time you'll have a much better time."

"What, mmmmm, uhhhhh, are you talking about 'this time?'  I'm not a virgin! Ah ah ah put it in 
PLEASE!"

"As a matter of fact, you are a virgin.  I just used my power to restore your hymen. I'm going to 
bust that cherry, but good!"

"Oh! That's so fucking kinky.  Mmmmm, ah ah yes! Take my cherry, I love it."

Alan fed the head of his cock into her, and kept going until the tip rested against her maidenhead.

"Oh my GOD! If I didn't know what was happening I'd be out of my mind!  Come on, love, 
push it through!"  He did and she squealed in pain.

"OK?"

"I will be, love, once you start fucking."  He chuckled, and began to push and pull in and out of 
her.  Her body took on that blush again, and she began to grunt rhythmically to his strokes.  Soon 
her breath became ragged, and the grunting gave way to gasping and whimpering, and soon after 
she climaxed, her body seizing up, her pussy clamping down on its invader and releasing a 
copious amount of juices.

"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, FUCK ME, YES, FUCK ME, HARDER, YES, 
HARDER, YES, HARDER! PLEASE! COMING!"

He fucked her through two more screaming orgasms, continually quickening the pace of his 
strokes, Chloe constantly calling for him to fuck her with more force.  By the time he came in 
her, simultaneous with her third orgasm, they were both dripping with sweat, and Chloe's whole 
body had passed the mere blushing stage (a light pink when he began to give it to her) and was 
now in full crimson mode.  He collapsed beside her heaving body, and she threw her leg over 
his, her hands roaming over his chest.

"That was," she paused, "Words cannot even begin to describe."  He half-turned to her and 
began playing with her new breasts in a relaxed manner.  She giggled.  "Like 'em, huh?"

"Hey, I do nice work!" he shot back, enjoying the shapeliness of her enhanced bust.

"That you do, love, that you do," she purred contentedly.

Next Chapter: The nosy Guidance Counselor.

