Glamour Shots, Chapter 10 free porn video

Charlie nodded and turned to her. “Oh yeah, where are my manners!” I had a ready answer for that one, but kept it to myself. He went on, “Dave, Allison, this is Diamond – and Diamond, this is my partner, Dave, and his wife, Alli. You can probably figure out which is which.”

She smiled – a smile which expressed a whole lot of wickedness for such a simple little expression – and then said, “Hi, it’s really nice to meet you! Charlie has told me so much about you two, and I love your costumes! They make me want to pet you to see if you purr.”

Her voice was the one thing which was glaringly at odds with her appearance, an incongruity that jumped out at me. While she looked hard, and cruel, and a bit scary – intentionally, of course – her voice was soft, and had a half-breathy/half-sexy quality, with a bit of shy, halting, little girl-type cadence thrown in for good measure. It triggered something in my head, a feeling that I’d heard her somewhere before, and it took a second or two before I realized that she sounded very much like the actress, Jennifer Tilly!

She was holding out her hand, so I took it in mine for a very soft, gentle handshake. “Diamond, is it? Thanks, but only Alli purrs; I growl.” She smiled again as I went on. “Love your look too – in fact, in that get-up I’d say we should probably call you Mistress Diamond, shouldn’t we?”

She smiled that wicked smile again. “Well, for tonight anyway – I don’t always dress like this.” I laughed, and she squeezed my hand. “I spell ‘Diamond’ with two ‘d’s’, by the way.”

I had a hunch what she meant, but decided to play along. “Everyone spells diamond with two ‘d’s’, don’t they?”

She seemed puzzled for a moment, and then laughed. “No, not like that! I mean with two at the front, two capital ‘D’s’, like D-D-i-a-m-o-n-d…get it?” Apparently thinking that I was obviously the slow, dull-witted sort, she shook her impressive breasts at me to emphasize her point.

I had to laugh. “Yeah, I get it. Very subtle, tying the name to the attributes. So do people just call you D-Diamond, or is it Mistress D-Diamond?” I said it pronouncing both of the leading consonants, as if I had a slight stutter, and she shook her head.

“No, not like that! You say them both together, so that one of them is silent!”

“Oh, that does make more sense! Which one?” Alli was just watching me, a bemused smile on her face, wondering how long I was going to tease, torment, and flirt with this lovely girl.

“What?” Diamond – or, rather, DDiamond – was staring at me, looking puzzled.

“Which ‘D’ is silent, the first one or the second – or the third, for that matter?” I posed the question as seriously and straight-faced as I could, but Alli poked me in the ribs; clearly she knew what I was doing!

DDiamond shook her head. “What? I mean, I don’t… not the third one, for sure. I guess maybe either of…Wait a minute; you’re just teasing me aren’t you?”

I laughed. “I guess I am, a little; it gives me an excuse to keep talking to you. Forgive me?”

She giggled. “Charlie said you were a tricky one, and that I had to watch out for you!”

“Well, Charlie wouldn’t lie to you…well, yes, actually he would, but not about that.” She chuckled, as did Alli, and Charlie objected weakly as I went on. “It was nice meeting you, but I suppose we should go mingle and quit monopolizing you and Charlie. We’ll catch up to you two later, okay?”

We all exchanged brief pleasantries, and a promise to talk some more a little later in the evening, and we moved on. Alli leaned in close to me and said, “Did you enjoy that? I can’t believe you were flirting with her like that, with me standing right there!”

“Oh come on! I was just teasing her a little bit, trying to be friendly.”

She snorted derisively. “Huh! You were friendly, all right! What color were her eyes?”

“What?”

“I’m just trying to find out if your eyes ever left her boobs long enough to see her face.”

“You have to admit, those were some pretty impressive boobs – oh, and blue, by the way; her eyes are a very pale blue.”

“You know those are fake, right?”

“Her eyes are fake?”

“No, you idiot, her boobs! Those were implants.”

“Oh. Well, thank God it wasn’t her eyes – that would probably be very creepy, talking to someone with fake eyes. How do you know her boobs were implants?”

Alli shook her head, frustrated with my kidding around but apparently amused that men in general – and me in particular – could be so gullible; I didn’t point out that gullibility was sometimes a conscious and willing choice. “David, other than those enormous tits she was built just like me, and nobody built like me has tits that big. Not real ones, anyway. Besides, women can always tell, and those were just too big. Double-D Diamond my ass – she probably needs to add another ‘D’ to that, or even an E or an F, although I have no idea how she’d pronounce it then!”

I laughed. “You sound a little bit jealous, my love. Rest assured that I’ve never seen another pair of tits as perfect as yours.”

“Well, you sure were staring at hers, and the flirting didn’t help.”

I shrugged. “I just happen to enjoy the female form in all of its various permutations. What can I say; you know I’m both a lech and a voyeur! Besides, she seemed very nice.”

“Just so you know, that was more of a mutation than a permutation.”

I looked at her, surprised that this seemed to be bothering her so much. “You do know that she’s probably a dancer at the Booby Trap, right?”

That thought seemed to catch her off-guard. “Do you really think so?”

I shrugged. “I’d bet on it; consider her name, with the double-D built in, and her figure, and really, where else would Charlie be likely to meet a woman like that? That place is sort of his home-away-from-home, you know.”

She smiled, recognizing the truth in that. “That makes sense, I suppose; it does sort of shed a whole new light on the big boob implants.”

“My guess would be that they get a whole new light shed on them several times per evening.” She laughed and slapped my arm, and I went on. “I’d bet that Charlie had to pay somebody a chunk of change to spring her out of there on a big party night like tonight – not to mention all of the tips she’s probably losing out on.”

Alli nodded. “I find that whole thing fascinating, the way those girls can rake in the bucks from dumb men just looking to throw their money away.”

I shook my head. “I know. I just don’t get it – but then, not every guy has someone as sexy as you waiting at home.”

“Okay, you’re officially out of the dog house; you can stop buttering me up now.”

“Yeah, vegetable or baby oil works better anyhow; when we use butter, as soon as you heat up you start smelling like popcorn, and that can be very distracting.”

She completely ignored me, her mind still on the exotic dancer. “I’ll have to try to talk to her later; I’d like to ask her some questions about the whole stripper experience, what it’s like and everything.”

I laughed. “You’re already running an animal shelter and working as a professional model – are you looking for a third career to add to your résumé ?”

She bit her lower lip and raised her eyebrows seductively as she looked at me. “Wouldn’t that be fun? But no, I’m afraid I don’t have the boobs for it – and you can hardly call me a professional model, since I haven’t spent a minute at it yet!”

“I’m sure D-Diamond can tell you where you could buy the boobs – and you did work as a model, technically speaking, since your pictures in his portfolio are what helped him land the job. You even signed a model’s release.”

She considered that. “I suppose that’s true, huh? How exciting!” She looked over my shoulder. “Hey, there’s Michael and Marci – let’s go say hi and see if they recognize us!”

It wasn’t hard to spot Michael; all you had to do was look for the six-foot five black guy with three-foot wide shoulders towering over everyone else. In this instance he was also wearing a weathered brass Viking helmet with bull’s horns sticking out the sides, just in case he wasn’t conspicuous enough already. Marci, also fairly tall at five-seven and with a very full-figured voluptuousness of her own, looked tiny next to him, despite that fact that she too was wearing a Viking helmet; when we got closer we could see that they each had on armor, furs, and leather leggings and boots, the whole-hog Norse image thing. Marci was also gripping a huge plastic long sword in one hand and a good-sized, old-fashioned drinking horn – a real bull’s horn, by all appearances - in the other, while Michael was, for reasons that escaped me, clutching an inflatable pool toy opposite his own schooner of beer.

Marci was the second example in a matter of minutes of the ways in which large breasts can be pushed up to overflow a snug top (in this case a sort of leather-and-armor bra-looking thing) in a most eye-catching manner, her large, soft, pale breasts bulging from the top of her outfit, but in Marci’s case I knew the breasts were entirely natural; then again, unlike DDiamond, she had that type of lush, curvy, full-figured body on which large, heavy breasts look completely at home. She had also styled her almost white-blond hair into two long pigtail-style braids which hung down on either side of her face and down to her breasts.

We walked up to them and I stuck my hand out, only to have it entirely engulfed in Michael’s huge mitt as we shook. It wasn’t unexpected – I’ve shaken hands with Michael on many occasions – but I still marvel at how big his hands are, and at the fact that he moderates his strength into a firm, but not crushing, grip; not all big, powerful guys are so considerate! We each got a hug from Marci, and Alli got a hug from Michael that lifted her clear off the floor before we separated and admired and commented on each other’s costumes.

These two are another couple with whom we get together from time to time, usually for activities like hiking, fishing, or four-wheeling back in the hills, and we’ve spent many an hour on a lakeshore or around a campfire with a cooler of beer close at hand. They’ve been together – and monogamous, to the best of my knowledge – for several years now, but have shown no signs that marriage is in their future plans. Their attitude seems to be that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I looked at the two of them. “Well, let me guess; you’re either the worst-dressed Vikings fans ever, or you’re some Norse warrior from the ‘hood and she’s your Viking wench, right?” Like most white folks around black folks – and, probably, vice-versa - I had tiptoed around the race issue when we’d first met, but it quickly became apparent that he was not one of those types that use race as either a weapon, a shield, or a crutch; he and I now basically just treated each other as friends do, with all of the teasing and jabbing, including ridicule of all of the various racial stereotypes. I, for example, have no rhythm and can neither dance nor jump (mostly true, actually), while he can neither understand hockey nor pass up a box of Twinkies. Neither of us ever uses any of the vile racial slurs, even in jest; friends don’t go there.

He also doesn’t consider himself an “African-American”, his family having been on this continent for generations; instead, he calls himself an “unhyphenated American”, a term which I’ve picked up and now use regularly on all forms where it asks for “Race”. I now check “Other”, and write that in the blank, my own little expression of contempt for the seemingly constant need to classify us by our differences.

He laughed at my evaluation of their costumes, a deep, booming chuckle. “Wrong, man – I’m Thor!” He held up his inflatable pool toy, which turned out to be a large hammer made of red and yellow flowered plastic, one of those harmless therapeutic items, I assume, with which people can vent their aggression by bashing the object of their frustrations without doing any lasting damage.

I laughed. “Ah yes – nothing says God of Thunder like a red and yellow flowered inflatable hammer! So that makes you gay Thor from the ‘hood.” I turned to Marci and looked her up and down. “And that would make you either a hooker dressed up like some Norwegian chick, or else the St. Pauli beer girl.”

She abruptly brought her long sword up so that the tip of it whacked into my nuts, causing me to let out a yelp and rise about a foot into the air (as it turns out I can jump, given the right incentive) and my hands to dive down to cover myself protectively. “Jeez, Marci, what the hell!?”

“Tread carefully, fool, or I will unman you! I’m a Valkyrie maiden, and I have the power to carry you to Valhalla…or to geld you and leave you behind!”

Alli was laughing hysterically at my discomfort – as was Michael - but she covered my hands with hers. “There will be no gelding or unmanning, please, Valkyrie maiden! I’ve grown rather fond of his manhood, actually.”

Marci, no longer able to contain herself, started laughing. “Sorry, boss, but I couldn’t resist, what with that adorable bulge showing and all! You should dress like this more often.”

I grumbled, “Well, that would be extremely unlikely in any event, but now you’ve managed to guarantee that it will never happen again.”

They stopped laughing at my discomfort and embarrassment long enough for Michael to tell us how great he thought our costumes were. “You look spectacular, Allison, hot as hell; I can’t remember ever seeing a sexier cat. You’re pretty cute too, Dave.”

I laughed. “That’s the best you can do, ‘cute’? Don’t I look sexy too?”

He shook his massive head. “Think about it, bro’; would you really want me to tell you that you look sexy?” The deep rumble of his voice added extra meaning to his words.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point. That would make me a little uncomfortable; I’d be afraid to turn my back on you – especially since you’re doing that whole ‘Gay Thor’ shtick tonight.” He hit me with his hammer.

Marci was leaning against him, laughing between swallows from her beer horn. “Well I think you both look very sexy! I really do like those pants, Dave; they do wonders for you.” As if she wasn’t making me uncomfortable enough already, she went on: “You know that’s how I’m going to envision you from now on, right? Even when you’re in a nice suit and tie, I’m going to see you in those tights with that adorable package showing.”

At least she hadn’t said ‘little package’ which would have been understandable, given the significant bulge in the front of Michael’s tight costume. “Jeez, Marci…have another beer why don’t you? You know, I think I liked you better when you were that shy, quiet little buttoned up girl that I first hired, before you let the real you out of the cage.”

“What?? I was trying to pay you a compliment!”

“Thanks. If you want to do something nice, you can tell me where you got the beer.”

She grinned. “I can do one better than that – I’ll actually go get you one. Just don’t start expecting me to be this nice at work!” She was joking; at work she does whatever I need her to do, often before I know that I need her to do it. She set her big beer horn on what was obviously its own little stand on a nearby end table and grabbed Alli’s arm, dragging her along in search of adult beverages and leaving Michael and I standing there together. He filled me in on some of the sexy costumes he’d seen pass by and who was wearing them, both of us spending a little time checking out the room and contemplating Charlie’s date, who was by far the most blatantly, erotically sexy of the women then present. He commented again on how much he liked Alli’s costume – as I did about Marci’s - and we left them ranked as the top two, with ‘DDiamond’ a close third thus far. One has to know where one’s loyalties lie!

Inevitably our talk turned to sports, a subject on which he is the unchallenged expert – especially football, given that he played in high school, college, and then semi-pro for several years. Although he now runs an office supply business, he also volunteers as an assistant coach for our local high school football team. His insights on upcoming major college and NFL games are usually very good, and we’re both big Bronco fans, as are most people in the Rocky Mountain region. The girls returned a few minutes later, laughing and flushed and carrying a couple of large red Solo cups full of frothy beer. I couldn’t help but notice that Alli’s nipples were fully erect and jutting out proudly from each perfectly-defined breast; her tight, thin top really did remarkable things for her body!

Marci handed me one glass, while Alli kept the other. “You better keep a close eye on your wife tonight, boss; turns out that tight little body of hers is very popular among the male contingent!”

Alli was laughing still. “Somebody grabbed my ass!”

I stared at her. “Who grabbed your ass?” I was more than a little ticked off; as a rule I don’t use my position as one of the owners to throw my weight around, but in this case I was ready to make an exception.

She shrugged. “I don’t know; we walked past a whole group and someone grabbed me – I almost spilled your beer! I’m pretty sure it was either Dracula or the pirate.”

“Oh, that’s a big help!” Michael and Marci were laughing right along with Alli. I seemed to be the only one that failed to see the humor in the situation. “Come on, guys, it’s really not all that funny.”

Alli squeezed my arm. “Oh come on, sweetie, lighten up! It was all in good fun! I’m sure they didn’t realize I was your wife, not in this costume.”

I stared at her again, not quite able to believe that she was being so cavalier about the situation, but not wanting to make too big a deal out of it either. “Well, I suppose. At least you didn’t spill my beer, and that’s what’s important.” That got a laugh, and everyone relaxed when they saw that I was not going to make a scene about a simple ass-grab…even though it was my wife’s ass that got grabbed, and it pissed me off! “Hey, how come we get cheesy Solo cups when you two have those big fancy things?”

Michael held up the horn, examining the intricate pewter trim and then said in a booming voice; “Because we brought these from Asgard, mortal! A god does not drink from a plastic cup!”

I laughed and nodded. “Ah! Yeah, that makes perfect sense. Tell me, Thor; does that thing make your beer taste a little funky?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, it does, actually. I’m probably going to switch to a plastic cup for my next one; I thought these would be sealed inside or something. Hope I don’t get the shits from drinking out of this damn thing.”

Alli, Marci, and I laughed at his sudden return to the status of a mere mortal, and Alli gave him a hug before leaning against his side. He put his massive arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly against him. She looked up at him. “Yes, that would be tragic, a powerful god like Thor ending up confined to the bathroom with digestive problems – although it might begin to explain why they call you the god of thunder! So fill me in, since you two got here first; who else is here, and what are they dressed as, and what’s the latest? Come on, dish!”

They gave us a quick rundown of their observations as we watched the growing crowd mill around in front of us. Various people and couples would stop to talk to us for a few minutes before moving on, at times swelling our little conclave to eight or ten people, and we became an eddy in the stream of people flowing past, mingling by standing still, various people circulating with us for awhile before getting pulled back into the current and moving on. After about fifteen or twenty minutes of that, Marci suddenly grabbed Alli’s arm; “Oh, have you seen the big dick yet?”

Alli looked puzzled. “Well, we saw Charlie, if that’s what you mean.”

Marci giggled. “Yeah, that was pretty impressive!” She reached back and patted Michael right on the crotch, causing him to jump, startled, as he had been talking to someone else and not paying any attention to her. He glanced at her momentarily, and returned to his conversation. “Not as impressive as my big guy, but pretty impressive. But no, I’m talking about Oscar; you have to find him and see his costume, him and his wife, Irene. It’s hilarious!”

Marci made comments about Michael being well endowed from time to time, usually when talking to some of the other women in the office, and she was never too concerned about me overhearing those, or any of her other lewd or raunchy comments; I’m firmly convinced that she felt no day was complete until she’d made me blush! I never knew how much her comments and innuendo were made in deference to the stereotype of black males being universally well-hung (not true, in my limited locker room experience, by the way) or whether she was actually serious. Michael is a huge guy, physically-speaking, so to some degree it would make sense, but I also knew that proportionality in that regard is yet another myth.

Alli nodded, responding to Marci. “Well, okay, I suppose we should go mingle anyhow; we’ve stood here long enough.”

She took my hand and we started to part from the small group currently caught in our eddy, but Marci stopped us. “Do you guys know about Charlie, Oscar, and Irene, by the way?”

I looked at her. “Know what?” I knew that Oscar was a property manager – brilliant with numbers and details - that worked in Charlie’s side of the business, making Charlie his boss for all intents and purposes; I knew that he seemed to be a really nice, normal guy that I’d had a few short exchanges with from time to time, and that Irene was his very curvaceous and attractive wife, whom I’d also met and liked. Beyond that I knew very little about them.

She laughed. “Obviously, you don’t! Never mind, I’ll fill you in later; juicy gossip, the best part being that it’s all true. Have fun, and we’ll catch up to you after while.”

We wandered over to get refills on our beer and then started moving around, stopping here and there in the other various other little eddies around Charlie’s huge home to chat with friends and co-workers. There were a lot of great costumes, and on more than one occasion we had to try to figure out who was behind the mask or makeup. Before too long we did manage to bump into Oscar and Irene, and Marci was right – their costume was both clever and hilarious!

In reference to her question about whether we had seen “the big dick”, that’s what Oscar was! He was dressed as a giant penis, a hole for his face right about where the frenulum would normally be and the rosy-pink head of the penis forming a hat – which made him about Michael’s height all-told, rather than his usual five-foot ten or so, a few inches shorter than me. The funniest part was that Irene was his balls, her costume a very convincing giant scrotum which, when she stood right in front of him as she was when we walked up, made them quite anatomically correct, albeit in a very exaggerated way!

Oscar is somewhat heavy-set – not fat, just carrying a few extra pounds on his large frame, probably about two thirty-five or thereabouts - which made him a big, thick penis. Irene is short, not over five-three, and has one of those short, buxom, athletic type figures, like that bouncy, stocky, curvaceous little cheerleader we all knew in high school. My guess is that she’s probably around a hundred and forty pounds, maybe one-fifty, but firm and athletic. As a very full scrotum – with her head sticking out the top - she was a bit large, but the twin lobes of the costume representing each testicle swelled out nicely over her breasts. Together and proportionately they appeared to belong to a giant with big balls and a short, thick cock, if looked at in that manner! We were laughing as we walked up to them, a response I’m sure they were accustomed to by now.

Alli gave Oscar a hug. “Now here’s a big dick I can wrap my arms around!” Her comment surprised me; it was very bold for Alli – much more Marci-like, actually - but I chalked it up to the alcohol she’d consumed and her party attitude. Oscar and Irene both laughed as I gave her an awkward hug and shook hands with him. Both of them had their arms sticking incongruously out the sides of their respective sex organs, covered in the same flesh-colored material that made up the costumes.

I shook my head. “Oscar, that’s quite a costume! It takes real balls to come to a party dressed like that – which, thanks to Irene, you seem to have.”

Oscar chuckled and looked at me pointedly. “I could say the same about you, chief! Not every guy can wear tights with such aplomb!”

I smiled. “Yeah, well, me neither. This was Alli’s idea, and you’ll note that she looks amazing while I have to wander around looking silly and being humiliated for several hours. Next year I pick the costumes.”

His eyes ran over Alli’s sleek form. “You do look really good, Allison; those are great costumes!” Irene looked at me, and I watched her eyes linger for several long, uncomfortable seconds on my midsection, undoubtedly taking the measure of my bulge. When she looked up she stared into my eyes, her big, brown eyes completely brazen and unembarrassed. “I think you look great, Dave, very strong and masculine, like a big, mean predator on the prowl!”

I tried to laugh it off. “Thanks, Irene. I gotta say, you’re the best looking set of balls I’ve seen here tonight – and that includes Charlie’s.”

She giggled and blushed suddenly, a bright shade of crimson. “Yes, he’s rather bold, isn’t he? Good thing he’s such a teddy bear or people might be offended.”

Alli smiled, and gave her a hug. “You’re right, Charlie can be a real pig – but he’s a lovable little porker.” We chatted with them for awhile, just making small talk. The two of them are a nice looking couple, both of Spanish heritage – actual Spain, not Mexican or South American Hispanic, as he has told me that their families are from Barcelona - and it shows in their dark brown eyes and hair. Her shoulder-length wavy locks run more to reddish-brown, actually, similar to but shorter than Alli’s, while his hair is dark brown and cut short. Oscar, in particular, had a ready laugh and a good sense of humor, while Irene is usually somewhat more reserved – which made the almost predatory look I’d momentarily seen in her eyes as she looked at my groin all the more startling!

When we’d moved on, Alli said, “They’re a fun couple, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, he’s a good guy. Kind of quiet sometimes. I don’t know Irene all that well, but she seems nice. Maybe a little bit straight-laced, I guess.”

She poked me in the ribs. “You should talk! Who’s more straight-laced than us? We never do anything bold or daring.”

“You mean like groping each other in a restaurant, for example?”

She giggled. “Oh yeah! How could I forget about that? Boris and Natasha were very bold, weren’t they? Maybe we should hang out with them more often and see if it rubs off!”

“Perhaps they’re here at the party, in disguise. How would we know?”

She looked around. “You think so? Maybe we should split up and go look for them.” She squeezed my hand and then, after a quick look around, grabbed and squeezed my bulge, startling me. It felt good, though. “I think I will – and maybe if I’m by myself I can get my ass groped some more!”

I gaped. “Are you serious? You liked that?”

She shrugged. “Well…it was kind of fun – and exciting; you know what they say – when in Rome, do as the Romans do! Chill out, okay, hon’?”

I shook my head. “And when incognito, do as the Cognitians do, right? You know, we are all sorta incognito tonight, to some degree, so I guess…” I looked at her, and could see the excitement and arousal in her eyes; it left me dumbfounded, so different was it from the wife I thought I knew so well, the one that would have spent the entire evening self-conscious about her skin- tight costume and painfully embarrassed about her aroused and very visible nipples. “Just don’t drink too much and get carried away, okay?”

She stretched up to kiss me – carefully, so as not to screw up our makeup – and then stared into my eyes. “You know me better than that, David. Don’t worry.” She turned and left, wriggling gracefully through the crowd in search of Boris and Natasha… or something. As far as knowing her better than that, yes, I thought I did; right at the moment, however, I was not so sure.

Suddenly alone, I was at a loss for a moment, before deciding that first and foremost I needed a refill on my beer – and some food – and second, I needed a little fresh air. This costume, with the tights, and makeup, and fur shawl, hood, leg warmers, etc, was actually quite warm, so I got more beer and filled a plate with the various finger foods and other delicacies that Charlie had arranged for either the caterer or Margaret to provide, and then walked out through an open set of French doors onto the upper level of Charlie’s expansive deck, carrying my food and drink.

It was quite cool outside, but the breeze we’d had all day had finally died down, so it was not unpleasant. In addition, there were a few of those tall, propane radiant heaters scattered around the edge of the deck, along with an actual wood fire crackling and flickering cheerfully in the centrally-located fire pit, and, absent the wind, they did a decent job of taking the worst of the chill from the immediate area. It was a very dark night, with only a slender crescent moon, but there were a million stars flickering above, crystal clear in the crisp autumn air.

There were a few others out there – smokers, mostly, although I’d never heard Charlie tell anyone that they couldn’t smoke indoors; apparently that’s just the accepted etiquette anymore. I caught an occasional whiff of tobacco, as well as the heavier, sweeter scent of marijuana, but neither was so strong or prevalent as to be obnoxious. I said hello to a few individuals that I knew well, and then took a seat on the built-in bench that ran along part of the outside rail. Just below me was the next level of the deck, where his beautiful hot tub bubbled away quietly and invitingly, the lights in it glowing softly. Beyond that, the ground sloped away some fifteen feet beneath, down into some planted areas of shrubs and trees. I dug into my plate eagerly; I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I started eating, when I suddenly discovered that I was ravenous!

As a result, I was sitting there, bent over my plate like a starving hobo with my mouth full of food when a pair of tall black boots with five inch heels entered my field of view, and a small, halting, Jennifer Tilly voice said, “May I join you?”

I looked up, cheeks packed like a chipmunk, into the disconcertingly pale blue eyes of DDiamond, and nodded helplessly. She also had a plate of food, as well as a goblet of red wine, although in all honesty those were not the first things I noticed about her. No, it was her startlingly cold beauty that first grabbed me…well, that and the huge knockers, which simply refused to be ignored; she is a very uniquely sexy and beautiful individual, and I knew that I’d never before met anyone similar. Still standing, she picked at her own food – delicately, not like the starving animal sitting in front of her – as I choked down what I had stuffed in my mouth in hopes of being able to perhaps demonstrate to her that I wasn’t totally uncouth.

I motioned to the bench next to me, inviting her to sit, and by the time she had done so I’d managed to swallow enough to speak, albeit carefully so as not to spray her with food particles. “DDiamond, hi…I wasn’t expecting to see you out here in the cold, dressed like that.”

She shook herself slightly, causing her breasts to sway enticingly. “It’s not that bad, and it’s kind of warm in the house. I’m Karen, by the way. Karen Lang. DDiamond is just my stage name.”

“I sort of suspected. Even if your parents had named you Diamond, they probably wouldn’t have known to spell it with two ‘D’s’. I mean, you know, what with you being just a baby and all.”

She laughed. “You’re pretty funny. Charlie said you were kind of a joker.”

“Well, you know, Charlie wouldn’t …”

She interrupted me. “Charlie wouldn’t lie to me, right? You said that already.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I? I’m babbling; a woman as beautiful as you is probably used to that." I decided to turn the conversation to her. "How did you and he meet, anyhow?”

“At the club. He goes there a lot, I work there a lot – call it kismet.” She smiled, but there was a trace of sarcasm in her voice, and playfulness in her cold, blue eyes. “Thank you though, that was a very nice compliment.”

I had to revise my first impression, which had been that she was obviously a big-busted but intellectually limited piece of eye candy. One-on-one like this she was coming across as a more thoughtful, more normal, more likable person. “You and Charlie seem to be pretty fond of each other.”

She laughed. “Oh, we are. He’s kind of a goof, but he’s a good man.” She laughed again, as if at a private joke, but then she filled me in. “Whenever I tell him he’s a good man he says I should probably talk to his ex-wives.”

I smiled. “Actually, I think they’d probably agree that he’s a good man; they’d probably also tell you that he’s not an especially good husband, which is a different thing altogether.” She chuckled, low and throaty, just as a scrawny Spiderman walked up to us and stopped to say hello – to Karen, no doubt, although he was forced to include me due to my proximity. If I’d been sitting there by myself I’m quite sure his spider sense would have directed him to pass on by. It was kind of nice to see a guy that looked even more pitiful in tight, stretchy pants than I did, however.

When he moved on she put her hand on my leg. “I like you, Dave. Charlie thinks the world of you; he talks about you all the time.”

I nodded. “Yeah, we’re buds. We’ve known each other a long time.”

She smiled. “I like him a lot. He lets me stay with him now, whenever I’m here, in town; we work a four city rotation, so the guys don’t get bored with seeing the same titties all the time, a month at each and then we move on.”

“I can’t imagine that anyone would ever get bored with looking at you, Karen; so tell me, where all do you go?”

She reached out and touched my hand. “Thanks, Dave, you’re just too sweet! I usually do Phoenix, Oklahoma City, Albuquerque, and here, but I like this town best. You should come to the club with him sometime, it’s nice.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been there; it’s really not my thing…I mean, I love beautiful, sexy women – especially naked ones - but I have one at home. I mean, you know, not that she’s naked all the time. Sometimes, though… not nearly often enough. A lot, though…you know, like, whenever.” I knew I was babbling again, but she laughed as though I was doing it intentionally.

“Your wife – Allison, is it? She really is a gorgeous woman, and sexy. You know, I used to be built basically just like her, before I bought these.” She indicated what “these” were by looking down at her chest.

“Ah, so those are…?”

She nodded. “Yeah, store-bought.” She giggled. “Bolt-ons, as Charlie calls them. Tell me you didn’t think they were real!”

I stammered, a little surprised by how frank and open she was about her tits. “Ahh, well, I didn’t..I mean…”

She laughed. “I really think men don’t care; as long as they're big, that's all that mattes to some guys! I’ll bet that Allison knew they were fake though, right?”

“Yeah, well, she thought, you know, they might be.”

“Look at you, trying so hard to be nice! Women always seem to know – and they don’t usually worry about being nice about it. You guys though…well, let's just say that your silly male fixations are a positive and profitable bit of good fortune for me!”

I looked at her. “I suppose so. Did you see a big increase in the tips and all, after you…you know, got those?” I indicated her breasts with a wave of my finger.

She laughed. “Oh, god yes! These were an investment, as Charlie told me; guys see these and their brain shuts down. They can’t throw their money at me fast enough and I’ve probably doubled or tripled the number of lap dances I get asked to do! I paid these babies off in a matter of a month or two.”

I had no reply for that; the idea of her spending evenings grinding her ass on the laps of a bunch of horny men left me a little bit at a loss for words. “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess. About Alli though, she wasn’t being catty about it.”

She laughed again. “Very clever, Dave!”

I didn’t know what she meant until I suddenly remembered that Alli and I were dressed as cats, and then I laughed along with her. “No, that was completely unintentional; I’m not that clever. Alli actually said that if you were a dancer at the club, like we thought you might be, that she’d like to talk to you about it. She finds that whole concept fascinating – and probably somewhat puzzling.”

Karen nodded. “She’s really beautiful – she could make good money at it as long as she doesn’t mind the idea of guys shooting their load in their pants while she rubs her ass on them – even more if she’s willing to do handjobs. You know, if it was okay with you, of course. That’s as far as I go, you know; I’m not a prostitute.”

I was appalled that she would even think that about Allison, and far too shocked to get into a discussion of her definition of the word “prostitute”. “No, no, that’s not what she’s thinking, I’m sure! She’d never do that, she’s way too shy and modest, and she knows I wouldn’t be okay with it; I think she’s just curious about it, the whole scene, you know.” I looked at her for a moment, and realized that with her unique beauty, great figure, and add-on assets, it probably was a logical - if socially questionable - way for her to make a nice living. Still… “You actually do that, handjobs, plus making guys, you know, come in their pants?”

She laughed as she stood up, turning so that her backside was toward me and looking at me over her shoulder. She slapped herself on her fine, firm, mostly naked butt. “You’re looking at the ass that’s launched a thousand loads, Dave; hell, probably several thousand at this point, and since I got these titties I can make an extra twenty-five or thirty dollars a pop on all the guys that want to come on my tits while I’m jerking them off.” She laughed. “That’s an extra charge – an upgrade, I guess, and I can understand why guys like to see themselves come on my tits! I really like watching and feeling that myself, but what’s the thrill of a sticky, gooey, cold, wet mess in your pants, can you tell me that?”

“I’m… uh, you’re probably asking the wrong person.”

“Don’t try to tell me you’ve never come in your pants!”

“Jeez, Karen!” I was not in the habit of discussing such heretofore intimate things with a virtual stranger, but she just stood there, looking at me, and finally I shook my head. “No, I’m sure I probably have...not lately. But no, the thrill is all the before and during part, when it’s all a mindless pursuit of pleasure thing; the sticky mess you’re talking about, and the embarrassing wet spot, that all comes after, when the mind is functioning properly again. No thrill in that part, it’s just the price you pay.”

She smiled. Strangely, her smile didn’t strike me as cold and cruel anymore, not now that I knew her a little better. “That’s probably a very honest answer, Dave – and yet, I’ve got some guys that do it two or three times a week. Talk about the price they pay – I’m sure that gets expensive for them, for both my fee and their cleaning bill! Go figure…men! I’m sure glad you guys are so foolish and so horny though, I will say that! I make a living on it.”

I laughed at her unabashed evaluation of her job, as well as her take on men in general. “I suppose that’s called entrepreneurship; you see a need in the market and design your services to fill that need. Niche marketing, if you will.”

“And for forty bucks or so, I will!”

I couldn’t help but laugh again, her sense of humor, openness, and enthusiasm proving very infectious; with luck, since she’d claimed to perform only lap dances and handjobs, those were the only things about her that were infectious. I’d finished my food and was sitting there holding an empty plate, fascinated by this woman but knowing that I should probably move around and mingle more, or perhaps even go find Alli. I stood up. “Well, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed talking to you, but I should probably find my wife and go try to act sociable, right?”

She suddenly stepped forward and gave me an unexpected hug, and a quick kiss right on the lips, which I chalked up as being due to the rest of my face being coated in makeup. It felt like it was meant to be an innocent cheek kiss, but my cheek was unavailable. Then again, if I claimed to be unaware of the sensation of her large breasts pressing against my chest I’d be lying. “Me too, Dave. I suppose I'd better find Charlie and make sure he’s not harassing any innocent women. Hey, did you notice his tail?”

“Umm, his tail? No, can’t say that I did.”

She laughed. “It’s part of this whole ‘BDSM’ costume thing he cooked up; he’s got sort of a horse tail thing, but it’s really a whip – or a flogger, I guess it’s called - with about a six-inch glass dildo for a handle. He has that shoved up his ass, so he has to walk around with that all night and with the leather whippy parts like a tail, hanging out.” She laughed. “We had to cut a hole in his shorts!”

“Oh, that’s just disturbing! I could have gone all night – or even the rest of my life - without knowing that!”

She shook her head. “No, it’s kind of a cool whip, really; the glass handle part unscrews so you can just throw it in your dishwasher.”

“Not in my dishwasher, you can’t!” She laughed, and I shook my head in amazement. “So this whole dom/sub/bondage thing you’ve got going on, that’s for real?”

She shook her head again. “No, that’s just it; in reality I’m the one that enjoys a nice spanking, and he’s the one that likes to spank. I love the feel of that flogger on my ass - that’s why it’s such a great costume idea! We’re both something we’re really not in real life! Get it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Again, very subtle.” It made sense; I really couldn’t see Charlie as being the submissive sort that liked to be whipped. Then again, having viewed DDiamond as a dominatrix up ‘til this moment, I really couldn’t envision her submitting to a spanking or flogging either…although the thought did give me a bit of a tingle, and the start of a certain swelling in my pants. “Well, on that note I guess I’ll go find my wife, while trying very hard to avoid seeing Charlie from the rear at the same time. Thanks for that mental image, by the way.”

She laughed. “You really are funny, like Charlie said! See you later, Dave – in the hot tub, maybe?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re still discussing that. We never have before, but Alli wants to, it seems. But …well, I just don’t know. Let’s just say it’s up in the air.”

“Do it! It will be fun, I promise, and you never know what might happen.”

“Yeah, that’s the part I’m not so wild about. We’ll see. Talk to you later, okay?”

We went our separate ways. I mixed and mingled, stopping to pour myself a Margarita from a pitcher on the bar, into a pre-salted glass standing nearby. With some of the costumes it was easy to tell who was who, but with others, where the head was hidden, masked, or heavily made-up, it was nearly impossible. I suspect that the overall sense of anonymity that provided was responsible for some of the touching and fondling that I witnessed; then again, absent the masks and such, pot and alcohol have been known to produce much the same result all on their own. The atmosphere of the party was becoming very sexually-charged; I sensed it, and as a result of my voyeuristic tendencies was walking around semi-hard most of the time, the bulge in my tights undoubtedly somewhat more pronounced than it had been earlier. I caught a few glances directed at my crotch, which was embarrassing and bothersome – all the more so because they weren’t all from women!

It was about that time that some of the less adventurous – and less inebriated – started to head for the exits. Louis and Elaine were a part of that group, and I caught up with Alli as she was saying goodbye to them and gave them my best wishes as well. Normally we would have been out the door shortly behind them, but Alli showed no sign of being ready to go yet; instead we went and found Marci and Michael, where they were engaged in conversation with a small group of people, and joined the gang.

The crowd continued to thin. A couple of taxis had to be called for a few of the partygoers that had failed to designate a driver, and others caught rides with those that had, all promising to come back and retrieve their cars the following day. By this time it was down to something around eight or nine couples, or maybe a few less, and, as opposed to previous parties, we were still one of those remaining couples. The group we were in now consisted of us, Marci and Michael, and Keri and her husband, Don. Keri is our receptionist and office manager, a supremely confident and competent young lady of twenty-six – close to Alli’s age – and is an attractive blue-eyed, five-foot six blond with a fine, slender figure. Don, her husband, is thirty, dark-haired, and closer to six feet, and is one of those formerly very athletic guys that are starting to soften a bit around the middle. He drives a truck, so he spends a lot of time sitting on his ass, and probably eats a lot of fast food.

Keri and Don split off first, heading toward the back hall off Charlie’s living room, leaving just the four of us. Marci looked from Allison to me, but addressed her question to Alli. “Are you two hanging around for the hot tub part of the evening?” She looked about as skeptical as I felt.

At the same moment, Alli said, “Yes, I think so” and I said “Probably not.” We looked at each other, and I shook my head as she said, “Oh come on! It will be fun – you’ll see!”

Marci chimed in. “Yeah, boss, I think you should do it! I promise I’ll show you my boobs!”

Alli and I both laughed, a little bit surprised, but, given that this was Marci we were talking to, not terribly much so. I looked at her. “You know, Marce, considering that you’ll be bare nekkid in a hot tub, that part is kind of a given, isn’t it?”

She giggled. “Oh yeah! Okay then, you can show me yours!”

“My boobs are nothing special. Now Allison, she’s the one with the great boobs.”

Marci shook her head. “Not what I meant, and you know it – but yes, I’d have to agree that your wife has a very nice rack.”

I looked back and forth between them, surprised, but Alli quickly clued me in. “I showed her the pictures while you were off making nice with everyone else.”

To my immediate consternation, Michael also entered a vote. “Yessir, those are some good looking titties! I mean, I love me a great big set…” he indicated Marci by hooking his thumb toward her “but those boobies your wife’s got are some fine looking examples of the breed too – not to overlook that cute little ass!” He whistled.

“Wait a second! You saw the pictures?” I turned to Alli, “I thought you were just going to show them to ‘the girls’.” I said the last part rather sarcastically, quoting her own words back to her.

Michael immediately looked chagrined. “Uh-oh. Hope I didn’t get you in trouble!”

Allison shook her head. “No, it’s all right – I just didn’t get a chance to tell you yet, Davey.” She also looked very embarrassed; I’m sure she was blushing brilliantly, but thanks to her cat makeup that part was not apparent. Her eyes darting around before going to the floor more or less told the same story, though. She went on. “I was just showing them to Marci and Elaine, kind of off in the corner, and then Keri wanted to see what we were looking at, and then Irene showed up – and since she’s the balls and you can’t split up the set, Oscar, the penis, had to come with her I guess, so…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at me.

Michael laughed “Oscar the Penis – didn’t he used to be on some kid’s show?” I looked at him, and, despite the fact that he could crush me like a bug he fell silent and looked away.

“So Oscar saw those pictures too, the really hot ones? And Michael, obviously…who else?” This was seriously bothering me, but there was also an unexpected undercurrent of arousal, knowing that others - men, in particular - had been admiring my wife’s mostly naked body.

She looked at me, and then away again. “Well, Louis came to find Elaine, and then a few others. Everyone started passing them around, David! I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it!”

Marci cut in, and she seemed almost angry with me. “And it wasn’t a big deal, Dave! I mean, come on – your wife is a beautiful woman, and the pictures are artistic and tasteful, not filth. There’s nothing wrong with seeing the human body naked, and everyone here is an adult - with the possible exception of you. Grow up, okay? Quit acting like such a prude!”

“Marci, why don’t you just stay the hell out of it!?” I’d snapped at her; it was the first time since the day that I’d hired her that Marci and I had had an exchange that was anything other than humorous, pleasant, or professional, and I think it shocked both of us. We stared at each other for a moment, both of us wanting to apologize, I believe, but both too angry, hurt, and stubborn to go first.

Michael took her by the arm. “He’s right, babe. C’mon, let’s leave them alone and let ‘em talk.” He led her away, and Allison and I were alone.

After they left, Allison and I just looked at each other for a very long moment. It seemed to stretch out, but it gave me a chance to calm down, and to see the hurt in her eyes. That took the shock and indignation out of me, and I just felt deflated. “I’m sorry. Marci was right; I over-reacted. I just didn’t expect that everyone would be…you know, looking at those pictures. I thought they were kind of intimate, just for us, but I tried to be cool about you showing them to the other women. Now, well…”

She reached out and took my hand. “I know, and you have every right to be upset. People you have to work with saw the pictures, and I know you didn’t want that. I didn’t plan it though – I was just showing a couple of friends and it got out of hand very quickly.” She looked around, and then back at me. “As they always say on TV, police think alcohol may have been involved.”

I laughed, despite myself. “I’m sure! Well, water under the bridge, right? I mean, we can’t make them un-see the pictures. Like Marci said, you’re very beautiful – and, I would add, sexy – so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” I paused, considering whether to share a secret with her, and decided maybe it would be a good time to do so. “You want to know something?” She nodded, so I went on. “The idea that some of the other guys saw you like that, all uncovered and sexy in the pictures…well, it kind of turned me on a little.”

She looked at me, her eyes wide. “Really?” I nodded, and she laughed. “You, my sweet man, are delightfully kinky! I can’t believe that Marci thinks you’re a prude.”

“Well, you have to consider where she’s coming from. I mean, compared to her, Anaïs Nin was…” I was cut off in mid-sentence by a sudden disturbance, which turned out to be a very naked, very attractive brown-skinned maiden running toward us, laughing, and quickly flashing by, nothing but a couple of towels in her hands, her bare breasts bouncing very becomingly and her laughter trailing behind. I recognized Molly, the wife of one of the younger brokers in our office, in part because hot on her heels came Davonn, the broker in question.

He too was stark naked, but empty-handed and reaching out as he chased her, as if trying to grab her cute little brown butt! His dark cock flopped back and forth as he ran past, laughing and pursuing his wife; we watched them cross the room and disappear out onto the deck, undoubtedly headed for the hot tub – a fact which I’d managed to deduce by using my incredibly keen perceptive powers and a bit of observation and logic, given their state of undress, the towels, and the fact that it was about forty-five degrees outside.

Alli and I looked at each other, speechless for the moment. Finally she said, “Huh! I guess that’s the unofficial announcement that the hot tub portion of tonight’s entertainment has begun, right?”

I shook my head, laughing. “Apparently! Do you know them?”

“Isn’t that the new guy that works for you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, Davonn. His wife’s name is Molly.” They are a very young couple, early twenties and recently married. Davonn is a hard-charging guy, intense and dedicated at work. I’d only met Molly once, when he’d brought her in and introduced us. They are both slender and athletically built, him about six feet tall and maybe a hundred and eighty pounds, her perhaps five-foot-five and not over a hundred and ten. He’s one of the few black employees we have – our city being somewhat lacking in minorities overall – and is in reality sort of a dark chocolate brown, really; she’s a few shades lighter with gorgeous dark eyes and short hair…and, as it turns out, nice little breasts with pert brown nipples and a perfect little round ass. That was new and welcome information!

Alli and I stood there for a few moments, not saying anything, just looking toward where they had disappeared into the great outdoors. Finally, I said “Well?”

She looked at me for a few seconds, her eyes searching my face. “Well, what?”

“Well, it appears that the time has come where we need to decide to either fish or cut bait.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means, is we is, or is we isn’t? I’ll leave it up to you.”

She paused for a moment, looking again toward the French doors that led to the deck. She reached out and took my hand. “I vote that we is.”

I nodded. “I was afraid of that – but I did give you the deciding vote. If it gets too weird, I get to be the one that pulls the plug though, okay?”

“That sounds fair.” She pulled me toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go see if we can find a place to get out of these costumes – oh, and wash off this makeup! We sure can’t go in the hot tub like this.”

“No, the cat hair would probably clog the drain.” I trudged after her, filled with trepidation, but also with a lot of excited little butterflies fluttering around in my tummy.

****

As always, thanks for taking time to read my story! I hope you enjoyed it, and will stay tuned for Chapter 11.