Carry That Weight free porn video

If there was one thing that Sam liked to do these days, it was to look at herself in the mirror. It wasn't just a vanity thing, although she knew that played a part, but a reminder of just how far she'd come. She loved to run her hand along the contours of her waist especially, and still marvelled every time at the hourglass shape that appeared in front of her. The hourglass was hidden tonight under a mid-thigh Donna Karan red dress. It was a little shorter and lower cut than she was used to, or felt comfortable with, but she was dressing with purpose tonight and the dress was just an accessory to help her. As were the four inch red patent Christian Louboutin courts, the ones she'd picked up on her last weekend in New York, and the diamond necklace she'd treated herself to on her last birthday. Katy had been especially taken with the Christian Louboutin, and Sam had had to stifle laughter when her "flatmate" had been unable to get her fat feet into them. No! Sam had cried when Katy had started to complain that she was gaining weight. The shoes are probably just a small fit. That wasn't true of course. Katy was gaining weight. She was gaining weight right now in fact, while she lay on the sofa drinking her third glass of white wine and slobbing her way through yet another takeaway pizza. "This is my last treat tonight," she'd told Sam, pathetically. "I'm going to get myself fit again, starting tomorrow." "Don't be silly," Sam had told her, looking at the very apparent bulge above Katy's jeans. "You look great." It was all part of the plan of course. It had worked perfectly to this point, Katy thought Sam was her new "bestie," or whatever awful word the awful woman had used, and why should she think anything different? After all, it had been Sam that was there for her when she'd broken up with her boyfriend. It had been Sam that was there for her when she'd been evicted from her flat. It had been Sam who was there for her when the police had found Katy slumped in the toilets of the local nightclub, a half line of coke sitting untouched on the sink in front of her. The police had told her that she was lucky to be alive, and that the coke had been spiked. Sam had rubbed her head and told her that she was safe now. Sam turned back to the mirror, smiling at her good fortune. She picked up her hair straighteners and started work on her newly dyed blonde hair. She wasn't yet sure what to make of her new hair colour, it was an accessory like the dress, shoes and necklace of course, but she kinda liked it. The girl at the salon had told her that it made her look a little like Marilyn Monroe, which was clearly ridiculous, but still left her with a warm glow. Gentleman prefer blondes, don't they? "Oh my God, you look amazing," Katy said, when Sam presented herself in the front room, "and that hair! Wow, sexy lady." "Thanks doll," Sam replied. "You know, you could still come if you want. There's plenty of time." She didn't really want this of course, in fact it would be a disaster, but she wanted to keep up the "bestie" facade. In reality, ordering Katy the pizza had ensured that the tubby slob would want to stay in and watch her programs. Katy shook her own chestnut brown hair, which looked dull and tired in comparison to Sam's new vivid blonde look. "I'd only cramp your style. What's the guy's name, anyway?" Sam couldn't tell her this. "Errm, I've forgotten to be honest. It's saved on my phone though." "Wow, I'm so jel," Katy said, putting her pizza box to one side and standing up to take a closer look at her new "bestie'. Sam particularly liked how the woman's belly jiggled noticeably as she stood up, which was in contrast to her own, toned, stomach. It was another of those moments that made Sam excited about the plan ahead, and its success so far. But Katy had been the easy part. She was weak and stupid. Tonight was all about part two. It had already been far more difficult and time consuming. In fact, she'd almost given up on more than one occasion, telling herself that Katy was prize enough and that she was being unrealistic thinking she could do it all, but then she reminded herself just how much fun part two would be. It was one thing to get Katy. But to have them both? Southern Comfort was his new favourite drink. At first it had been mixed with lemonade, a sweet tasting drink that was his port of call when lager had lost its appeal on a night out, but with the lemonade jettisoned as an unaffordable extra, it was down to neat Southern Comfort. He wasn't sure he really even like the taste of it on its own, but it was the only spirit that he'd even come close to liking and with his luck the way it was, it was only spirits that could dull the pain. Lager and cider just didn't do the trick any more. A pull on his kidneys told him that he needed to go the toilet, so he made his way across the sticky hardwood floor of the pub. It wasn't the best pub in the world, hell who was he kidding, it was a long fucking way from being the best pub in the world, but it had the esteemed virtue of being local enough that he could stagger back to his flat at closing time without having to pay for a taxi. Plus the landlady, Jill, took pity on him and often let him drink on credit. She hinted that it was a favour that should be rewarded in the bedroom, but things hadn't got so desperate that he'd sleep with a bat-faced old bitch like her, not even for free Southern Comfort. He thought about this as he stumbled from the urinals to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. Sure he was getting on now, 36 next month, but he still had an impish charm about his face that women liked. He was lean too, a pleasing side effect of laying off the lager. The temples were greying slightly but he'd kept his hair, and even in the dull light of the bathroom he could see his blue eyes gleaming with a boyish glow. Megan had loved his eyes. The only thing that made him look old were his teeth. He'd never looked after them properly, and his wisdom teeth had pushed some front teeth out of place, leaving him with the kind of smile that reminded him of Austin Powers. They'd started to discolour too, a sad side effect of too much booze and junk food. He threw a little cold water on his face and shook his head from side to side. It was no use thinking of Megan, he told himself angrily. It was his own fault that she was gone, and it was time that he just accepted it. It had been almost a year now, and she wasn't coming back. "She was a fucking slag," he mumbled to himself, but his heart wasn't in such a comment. Truth was, she was the only good choice he'd ever made. "How's tricks?" Jill asked him as he made his way back to the bar and sat down. "Bad," he replied, running a finger around his glass in the forlorn hope that she'd offer him something on the house. He watched as she leaned over to pick up some discarded bottles and got a glimpse of her bra, shuddering at the sight of her withered cleavage. Time was, he could get any girl around. The glory days, as Bruce might say. In truth, bad was an understatement. He was sure that he was going to get the boot at work the next day, and he couldn't really blame them. It was an incredible fall from grace for the former golden boy of the showroom, old Oliver Twist, AKA the Artful Dodger, the whiz kid of a salesman that could sell any car to anyone. There was an old saying about selling ice to Eskimos. Oliver used to boast that he could sell them the ice, and a new Ford Focus, at the same time. Women were his best customers. They'd swoon around him, especially the middle aged ones who loved his cheeky little jokes and suggestive eyes. He'd given a few of them a seeing to of course, one particular test drive with a bubbly nymphomaniac had had nearly resulted in an unfortunate collision with a parked police car, but mostly he just let them believe he was interested in them. Stupid old slappers. He joked that he was a bit like a male prostitute, but instead of slipping them his penis, he slipped them a second hand car. He didn't know why the drinking had started. It had just crept up on him from nowhere, like a shifty predator in a wildlife documentary, and then engulfed him in its vicious claws. He'd always drank a little, socially mainly, but in the last year it had become an all consuming desire. From the moment he woke up, all he could think about was where his next drink as coming from. Megan had given up on him about a year ago, when she'd found him wrapped around a giggly brunette that he'd picked up at work. It hadn't been his fault really. She was supposed to be away on a training seminar in Amsterdam, but there'd been a bomb scare at the airport and she'd come home early. Dumb fucking luck. Oliver had begged her to stay, both of them in tears, but she'd kissed him tenderly on the cheek and told him to get some help. He could still hear her sweet, tender voice now. "I'm not even that angry with you Olly, just sad. But I can't let you destroy me too." And that was that. Ten years down the drain. After that, he'd lost all interest in selling second hand cars. It seemed so pointless. The women stopped swooning around him as he became more dishevelled, and he wasn't particularly interested in them anyway. In the space of a year he'd gone from top salesman in the area to bottom of the pile, beaten even by the snotty 20 year old sales kids that he used to laugh about. The final straw had come that morning though, when he'd told an old woman to "make her fucking mind up', as she dithered about whether to go with one crappy car or the other. "It's like I'm on a never-ending slide," he bemoaned to Jill, who still hadn't given him that free Southern Comfort. "Did you know that I was the most popular boy in my year at school? All the girls loved me. And then I was the best car salesman, and had the prettiest girlfriends..." "That's life," Jill replied, voice devoid of any real emotion. "Kicks you when you're down. Like my Dave, keeling over of a heart attack when he was fifty. Life's a bitch." She lifted a crate of empty bottles. "And then you die my friend." She left him with this happy thought, and it was one that resonated with Oliver a little too closely. Would dying be such a bad thing? He wouldn't have to worry about the flat being repossessed, or how he was going to find another job, or how he could find the money for his next drink. He could slide back to his flat now, get an old piece of rope, and bang, it would be all over. That would show Megan. He wondered if she'd come to the funeral. He wondered what she'd wear, if she did. But deep down, he knew he was too much of a coward. Plus, he still thought he could turn himself around. All it would take was a little willpower and some luck. He was still a young man, with the world at his mercy. "God I need a fucking drink," he sighed. "Me too," came a voice next to him. Oliver turned to find a very attractive blonde, taking a place on the stool next to his. Even through his Southern Comfort induced fog, he could see she was an absolute stunner. Big tits, long legs, small waist. Just his type. "So? Are you going to buy a girl a drink?" she said, her red lipstick shimmering under the fluorescent glow from the bar. Oliver could barely stop himself from staring at her tanned legs, stretching out from under her red dress. He followed them down to her expensive looking high heels. They looked like the kind of shoes that Megan used to wear on special occasions. Sexy beasts, he used to call them. "Have I stunned you into silence?" The woman laughed. "A bit," he replied. How had he become so out of practice at this? Time was, he'd already have this bimbo on the way to the bedroom. "Plus, I've run out of money." "Oh dear," she said, shaking her head. "Well perhaps the girl can buy the boy a drink then. What would you like?" Oliver sat up straighter. "Southern Comfort please. Neat." "Good choice. I might have the same." She ordered the drinks from Jill, whose eyes nearly popped out at seeing such a beautiful woman in her awful pub. "Blimey girl," she said, in her south London brogue, "you'll take someone's eye out with those. The last time we had anyone looking that posh in here was when we put the Queen's speech on at Christmas." The woman smiled again, but Oliver noticed that she looked a bit uneasy. "What are you doing in a dump like this?" he asked, once Jill had left them with their drinks. God, it tasted good. "I could ask you the same," she purred, a naughty twinkle in her eye reminding him of Megan. "I'm here because I'm a pathetic drunk," he replied, before holding out his hand. "Oliver, by the way." Her expression changed. "God, it is you, isn't it?" "You know me?" That was just perfect. He'd probably sold her a dodgy second hand car. "listen love, if it's about something from Elliot showroom, I can't do any...... "No, it's not from there. You're Oliver Gaddis, right?" "How did you know that?" The woman laughed. "You don't recognise me, do you?" "Love, I'm so pissed I'm just happy to recognise myself." "I'm Samantha Jones, you know, from Cardinal Hume. You were in my year at school!" Suddenly Oliver felt a lot more sober. Could it really be? Surely not. "But you," he stammered. "I mean, you were....." "I know, I know. I've changed a bit right?" "A bit?" Oliver said, stunned. "I mean, I can't believe it." Then he started to remember. "Jesus, I wasn't very nice to you, was I?" "You and a lot of other people," she replied coolly, but without malice. "that was a long time ago though. So how have you been?" "Yeah good," he said, still not able to believe that the stunning woman in front of him was Samantha Jones. "am I thinking of the right person? What happened to your glasses?" "Laser eye surgery sweetie," she replied, before laughing again. "Remember how you used to all call me a walrus because of my buck teeth?" "Jesus yeah, I'm sorry about that." "No don't be. Look at the work I've had done though." She smiled brightly to show a perfect set of teeth. "Great, huh? I got them done in the States a few years ago. Cost a bomb, but worth it I think." "It wasn't the only reason I called you a walrus though," Oliver mused. "I mean, you were a big girl then. You must have lost loads of weight." "Yoga," she ran her hand through her long blonde hair. "And eating less chocolate." "Fuck me," Oliver exclaimed. "I'd never have believed it. So are you married, got kids?" "Me? No! I like the single life. Well," she took the hand that had been running through her hair and placed it on his thigh, "it's more fun being single, isn't it?" Oliver jumped. "fuck!" "Plenty of time for that," Samantha smiled. "Let's buy the boy another drink though first." Katy pulled herself out of bed with more effort than should have been needed by a 35 year old woman and made her way gingerly toward her dressing gown. Her stomach felt bloated and gassy again, remnants of another night in front of the television with only wine and take away food for company, and she cursed herself for her lack of willpower. Her plan had been to get up early and go the gym, but the bright light from her iPhone told her that it was already nearly midday. She looked at her lycra shorts and top sitting on the wardrobe, where she'd optimistically left them before going to bed, in the hope that it would make her get up and go. But the thought of squeezing into all that lycra made her stomach feel even worse, and she headed to the bathroom to run herself a bath instead. She had been able to fit into that Lycra just fine not long ago. In fact, she prided herself on being able to last longer on the treadmill than just about anyone else at the gym, and on good settings too. But over the last few months her desire to work out had pretty much completely vanished. It felt even worse because Sam had been kind enough to keep paying her gym membership, and she felt like she should reward her friend for doing that. But she could never quite take that step of getting ready to go. "I've told you not to worry about the gym fees," Sam kept telling her. "You know money isn't really an issue for me. If you want to go, the option is there for you. But I think you look great as you are." Katy didn't really believe that, especially now, as she stood naked in front of the mirror. She could grab a whole roll of fat now on her waist and her figure was slowly disappearing underneath a layer of chocolate and ice-cream created flab, something that would have been unthinkable only a year ago. Stephen would never have allowed it. She thought of him as she lowered herself into the water. Sure, they had had their bad times, but she'd assumed they'd get through it. But the drugs had been too much for him. He could deal with the ecstasy, but once the coke and heroin had started, he couldn't take it anymore. Katy thought how lucky she'd been to find Sam when she had. It had been purely by chance in the supermarket, they had bumped into each other in the dairy aisle, and Katy had scarcely been able to believe it was the same fat little girl that they'd given such a hard time in school. Buck tooth herself. Old Buck Rogers. The walrus. Fat arse. She still went red thinking about these insults, even now, after Sam had made it clear that all had been forgiven. She had told Sam how sorry she was, and how she hadn't understood at the time how hurtful it must have all been, but Sam had only laughed and told her that "kids will be kids." Katy just hadn't understood what it was like to be unpopular, she knew that. She'd always run with the most popular gangs. Katy, the doll, who could get any boy (or male teacher) to do whatever she wanted with a simple flutter of the eyelashes and maybe even glimpse of cleavage. Katy, who won the most popular girl of the year award. Katy, who went out with the captain of the football team. So the same Sam, who she taunted endlessly and whispered viciously about her awful NHS glasses and buck teeth, was now the one saving her. She'd given her a place in her flat and kept her in money when Stephen had left. Katy had thought about getting a job, but she had no idea where to start with such an idea. Stephen had taken care of the money side of things, and Daddy before that. But Daddy didn't want to know her any more, since the arrest. He'd been all caring at first, even coming to the hospital, but then he realised that the old boys in his club were talking and whispering, and that wouldn't do for Daddy. So he told her that it was time she stood on her own two feet, and that he couldn't keep bankrolling her. It was Sam that paid for the rehab. Katy wasn't sure where her friend got the money from, Sam was always evasive when asked, but she was eternally grateful that she had. Daddy slinked back off to the south of France, leaving her like some old dog that needed shooting. Stephen had already found himself a new woman, some bimbo from his squash club. "Screw them," Katy thought, as she climbed out of the bath. Getting dressed wasn't something that Katy much enjoyed any more. That had never been the case in the past. Stephen had like to see her in the latest fashions, and Katy had always been a bit of a girlie girl when it came to clothes and accessories anyway, so she'd try to dazzle him with something elegant. She'd sold all her best clothes for drugs now though, and the stuff she did have left barely fitted over her ever expanding hips and backside. She settled for the black stretch leggings that she'd worn the day before, and a flowery camisole top that Sam had bought for her last week. She winced at the size 16 label on it though, and how it felt tight against her stomach and boobs. "You're never going to believe this!" Sam told her, grabbing her excitedly as Katy came out of her bedroom. She looked lovely in a yellow sundress, her lithe figure clinging to the dress in a womanly fashion. Katy felt herself feeling more than a little bit jealous. "What is it?" she replied, after getting over her bout of envy. "Well I brought a guy home last night, but you'll never guess who." That was a first. Sam had gone out on a few dates recently, but never brought anyone home before. "Ooh, you're a bad girl Samantha. Who is he?" "Someone you know," she was grinning manically. "Someone you know very well." "It's not Stephen is it?" Katy said, but then felt instantly stupid. "Of course it's not babe," Sam replied, stunned. "I'd never do that to you. No, it's someone from our past. Someone from Cardinal Hume." "Really!" This was exciting. Katy loved thinking about school and often wondered what had happened to everyone. "Oh it's not Declan is it? He was so fit." "No, try again." "Hmm." Katy wracked her brain, trying to remember the names. Sam was too excited though, and grabbed Katy by the hands. "It's Oliver!" "No!" Katy felt a twinge in her stomach. "Not that scumbag!" "What do you mean? I thought you two were friends?" Katy tried to remember. "Well, I suppose he was OK But he cheated on my friend Lydia, and he was really horrible to you." Sam shrugged. "Yeah, but so were you. So was everyone." Katy wanted to change the subject. "Well, where is he anyway? I can't wait to see him. God, did you really sleep with Oliver Gaddis last night?" "Well not really." Sam had gone a little red now. "He was a bit too drunk, so we just sort of messed around a bit." She lowered his voice. "He's a bit small to be honest. And he couldn't get it up." Katy put her hand to her mouth. "How small? Like this?" She made a gap between her fingers, no more than two inches apart. "Acorn," Sam giggled. "Oh listen to me, I shouldn't be so mean. I just thought it was funny is all. I remember him making the girls call him Mr Big! How ridiculous. Anyway, be nice to him. His girlfriend has just left him and he's about to lose his job, apparently." Katy didn't know how she'd feel about seeing Oliver again. She wondered if he'd remember that time at her house, when her Daddy had been away on business. She didn't remember him being small then, but perhaps memories play tricks over time. "He's going to think I'm a fat blob," she sighed. "And look at you, looking like a movie star." "Oh no babe, you look great. I love that top on you. Plus, I wouldn't worry. He hasn't exactly turned into George Clooney himself. Sssh, here he comes now." Sam went to bed feeling very pleased with herself. Despite his pleadings to spend the night with her again, Oliver had eventually taken the spare room next to Katy's. Her little ducklings were lined up in a neat little row now, sleeping next door to each other and both in thrall to kind Samantha. It had actually been quite a fun night. The three of them had gone to dinner; Sam making sure that "Olly" got a nice big portion and Katy had two helpings of puddings. The fat slobs. It was going to take a while to get Oliver up to speed, he was still pretty lean, but a few spoonfuls of weight gain powder in his milkshakes that she was going to make specially for him ('you have to try them," she boasted after dinner. "they're delicious.), would help that along. She'd put a few other things in there too, but not too much yet. There was plenty of time. Plus, she didn't have him under her control just yet. She needed to break him fully, just like she had with Katy, who now followed her around like the little lap dog that she was. She could make that tubby bitch move whenever she wanted, like a master puppeteer. She looked so fat and ridiculous in that floral camisole, her rolls of lard barely contained at the waist and her boobs almost falling out of the top. Sam smiled at the idea of her getting even bigger and bigger. She planned to stop once she'd got her up to a size 20 or so, but she might go a little further just for fun. It wasn't like Katy was going to do much about it. But for all fun that Katy was, it was Oliver that was exciting her more now. The idea of having him under her total control was just to thrilling for words. "Big Time" Oliver, with his perfect hair and smile and those blue eyes that made all the girls (not Sam of course, she was immune to his evil glare) go weak at the knees. He'd been the absolute worst to her. Katy was mean and bitchy too of course, but at least she had the excuse of being a girl. Teenage girls are generally mean and bitchy. But she'd never understood why Oliver had been so horrible to her. None of the other boys had given her any trouble once they got to 14 or 15, but "Olly" just never stopped. In years 7 and 8 he would always pull her glasses off when he ran past her, leaving her to scramble around on the floor looking for them before some other bastard run off with them. Then he started pinging her bra strap every time he walked past, laughing with his friends that she needed parachutes, not a bra. He was worse than any of the girls, and even pointed out stupid little things that Sam thought only girls would notice, like how her eyebrows were too bushy or how her tights were the kind that only old women wore. He always fell about laughing at the sight of her in her games kit, shouting out stuff like "thunder thighs" and saying things to his friends like. "fucking hell, we could use that skirt as a tent lads." Sam felt herself getting angry and upset all over again, even now, laying in her bedroom nearly twenty years later. She consoled herself with the knowledge that she'd soon have him dancing on her strings, just like Katy. The most popular boy and girl at the school, bobbing up and down at her command. She had lots still to do. Besides, if her little lapdog Katy behaved as expected, she'd keep Olly occupied tonight. Oliver hadn't really needed to take the call from his boss to know that he'd been fired. But he'd answered anyway, feeling like he somehow needed to get that closure. He'd been sitting in the pub when the call came through, and Sam and Katy had offered sympathetic overtures. Katy, just like Sam, was vastly different to how he remembered her, but not in a good way this time. She'd been the girl that all the boys craved after at school, taunting them all with her short skirts and flick of her blonde hair. Now though, he'd probably give Jill a ride before grappling with Katy. She looked pasty and unhealthy, a diet of alcohol and bad food had left her skin dry looking and she was spotty around the mouth. That was before you even got to her fat arse and thighs, which he couldn't help but look at the jiggling around underneath her leggings. He'd also heard a rumour that she was into heavy stuff, like meth and crack, but that seemed hard to believe. But Katy's appearance was the least of his worries. He needed to decide what he was going to do for money, his mortgage was due in a week's time and unless they accepted IOUs, he was in big trouble. His last pay check was only going to cover his overdraft, so he still needed at least ?600 to get through the next month. He really liked being around Sam. She was so friendly and understanding, and had listened to his problems without judgement. It was hard to believe she could be so nice, given the hard time he'd dished out to her. Not to mention sexy of course. She'd worn a pair of tight skinny jeans to dinner that had left little to the imagination, and a low cut top that showed off her tits brilliantly. He'd suggested another try in the bedroom, he was a little more sober tonight after all, but she'd smiled gently and suggested they wait for another time. He closed his eyes and imagined running his hand up and down her toned body again. God, even in his drunken stupor the night before he was realised just how spectacular her body was, although she'd only allowed him to feel inside her bra and swatted his hand away when he tried to touch her down there. Not that she had any complaints about fondling his penis of course. God, why had it let him down again? It had happened every time since Megan had left and he couldn't explain it. He wanted to blame the alcohol, but he'd always been able to give Megan a good time, even when paralytic. A small knock at the door interrupted this worrying thought. It was Katy. "Hey Oliver. Are you asleep?" She crept into the room, her nightie swirling around her a little unsexily as she did so, and sat down on the bed. "Isn't this odd, the three of us together again?" "It's beyond odd," Olly replied, feeling the warmth from Katy's body. "You know, I can't understand why she'd be so nice to us after all we did to her." "I guess she's just a nice person," she sighed. "I have to know Olly. Do you think I look really fat now?" "Hey, we've all put on a bit of weight since school. It's only natural." "Not for me, I've always been stick thin. But I've had lots of problems recently, and I've just found comfort in food I guess." Olly could smell the alcohol on her breath, and wondered if it was just food that she'd become addicted to. "It was booze for me. I've got a problem, no doubt about it." He was surprised to find Katy slowly laying down beside him. What a weird few days this was becoming. "Do you remember that night at my house," Katy continued, pressing ever so slightly against his groin with her back. "Did you have fun that night?" "Of course I remember it," Olly replied. "You were the most popular girl in school. It was a bit of a trophy, to be honest." Katy turned her not insignificant frame around to face him. "Am I too fat and ugly for a reunion show?" "Of course not." Olly wasn't really sure that was true. "But isn't it a bit naughty, doing it in Sam's house with her down the hall?" "She had her fun with you last night." Katy reached down and put her hand inside his boxer shorts. "I haven't been with a man for months," she whispered. She worked him slowly, running her fingers around his flaccid shaft in a way that reminder Oliver of how Megan used to play with him. She even took her fingernail and tickled the top of his penis, something that used to drive him wild. But nothing was happening. He tried to get himself going by moving his own hand inside her nightie and bra. She had great tits, there was no doubting that, and Oliver caressed them gently and with the expert touch that drove so many of his old conquests wild. She certainly groaned appreciatively, and he started to wonder who would climax first. He'd never had a bird orgasm before him. "What's the matter?" Katy whispered. "Does the little man not want to play tonight?" "Calling it little probably won't help," Oliver replied, desperately trying to think of things to excite. He tried to imagine he was fondling Sam's tits, an idea that would have laughable just a few days ago. This helped a little, but still only got him half erect. Katy, by contrast, was well on her way. This was helped by her grabbing of Oliver's spare hand and placing it firmly on her vagina, which he could feel was already wet. "Work me please," she panted. "fuck, it's been so long." Oliver, realising that he wasn't going to orgasm, turned his attention to driving her mad. He circled and circled until he thought she was going to go crazy, before gently bringing her to climax. She had to stifle her groans so not to wake Sam up, but it was clear that she'd cum pretty heavily. "Jesus," she whispered, "you're good at that." But Oliver was too concerned about his own lack of performance to think about anything else. Two failures in two nights. What was happening to him? Katy didn't know how to think about her night with Oliver. She was even less sure the next night and the night after that, but on both occasions he made her orgasm so heavily that she didn't worry too much about his own lack of performance. She wondered if Sam knew about their little trysts, and what she'd make of it. This question was answered a few days later, when Sam took her to lunch. She ordered for both of them, as he liked to do for some reason, and Katy found herself with an outsized slab of Lasagne that was to die for. She cursed herself for eating it all, and then cursed herself doubly when she finished her Eton Mess desert. It was like she just couldn't help herself. "I'm guessing you've been having a little fun with Olly then," Sam said, sipping the cup of coffee she'd ordered for dessert. "How did you know? You're not mad are you?" Katy hated the thought of upsetting Sam in anyway. "I'll stop if you want." "Don't be silly. Are you having fun?" "Well, yes I'm having fun....." Sam raised an eyebrow. "You mean Olly isn't?" Katy shrugged. "Well he might be, but I haven't seen it, if you know what I mean." "Same as the night he spent with me then." Sam looked intrigued, as though she was trying to solve a puzzle. "what do you think of his size? He's shockingly small, isn't he?" "I can't believe it." This was true. What Katy was especially confused by is that she didn't remember any gossip about him being small at school. She had decided that they were all just too na?ve to know better. "It's like a baby boy's. I remember my cousin had a little boy a few years ago, and I swear his was about the same size." "I wonder how his girlfriend put up with that," Sam mused, still sipping her coffee, "and I've heard rumours that he's been quite the Lothario. Maybe he just knows how to use it." "That's not my experience." Katy wondered if anything could make a penis get smaller. She was going to ask Sam the question, but decided it was ridiculous. The women sat in a silence for a few moments, as though both thinking about Olly. But then Sam spoke up. "Changing the subject babe. I was thinking the other day how you might like a new challenge, something to stimulate your mind." Katy was a little taken aback. She had been thinking the same thing recently, and wondered how Sam had guessed. It was like the woman was some kind of oracle. "What were you thinking?" "Oh, I don't know," Sam continued, but there was something in her voice that suggested she did. "I know you like fashion and girlie stuff like that. Would you be interested in doing a beauty course?" "Yes I would," Katy replied, feeling excited at the idea. "Wonderful. I know someone who runs a night course at the local college. Do you want me to book you on it?" Katy felt like a little kid. "That would be amazing. But how much does it cost? How am I going to be able to afford it?" Sam smiled. "Don't be silly babe. I've told you that money isn't an issue for me. I'm more than happy to pay." "I don't know what to say." Katy felt herself welling up. "I don't know why you've been so nice to me. I really don't deserve it." She reached out and took her bestie by the hand. "you're like the nicest person in the world." "Stop it," Sam replied bashfully. "I'm just glad to help. I'm sure you'd do the same for me." "Stupid fat cow," Sam thought. She knew Katy would love the idea of doing the beauty course. The poor deluded thing probably thought it would help her get thinner too, because she'd have something to occupy her time. She probably thought she'd become some superstar makeup artist, and that she'd be able to look down on everyone again, just like at school. But Sam had other fish to fry too. In fact, little Olly needed catching first. She didn't expect it to be too difficult, given how pathetic he'd become. She could hear him crying some nights through the power of the listening device that she'd hidden in his room. When he slept, he sometimes cried out for Megan. She was happy to keep playing him with booze for now. She had learned from Katy not to do too much too soon. Let them think you're their friend first. Of course it was different with Olly being a man, she couldn't just sell him the idea of being "besties', like she had with Katy. Plus, he was definitely a little brighter than that airhead of a marshmallow. Not too bright of course. He could still be made to dance. "You've got a lot of worries, haven't you?" Sam said to him. They had taken a trip to the pub, not the one they had met in of course, but a nice out of town country pub where the floor didn't stick to your feet. "Hasn't everyone?" He looked weaker and more pathetic than a few days before. It was too early for the weight gain stuff to start working, although Sam thought she could him struggle just a little in his jeans as though they were getting tight, but she knew he was headed in the right direction. Poor old Olly, she thought, this is going to be so much worse for you than Katy. "Is there anything I can do to help? Sam asked, putting on her most caring voice. "Nah, you've been too kind already. It was really nice to let me stay in your flat for a few days, but I really need to get home and start working out my problems." "Olly," Sam placed her hand on top of his. "can I say something that you might think is rude?" He nodded. "And you won't get mad at me? I really wouldn't like you to get mad at me," she put on her little girl eyes now. "Of course I won't get mad at you," he replied. "I think I know what you're going though." Sam tried to put on her most sympathetic of tones. "I hit the bottle a little too hard a few years back. Whiskey was my choice though. I see you're in the same position now." "Yeah I like a drink," Olly replied. "But I wouldn't say I'm an alcoholic....." Sam shook her head, but gave a friendly smile. "I was the same. Told everyone I could stop whenever I wanted. But I started to drink in the morning, and taking a flask of whiskey out with me so I could have a taste during the day. Then I lost my job...." "Really?" "Yep," Sam lied. "I was doing so well too. But I threw it all away. Punched my boss once day when I was drunk. I was lucky not to go down for it." A little detail always helps, Sam thought. "Jesus," Olly whispered. "I'd never have believed it." She squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Olly, will you let me help you?" She could see his expression change, and could almost touch his thoughts. He was thinking about the job that he'd thrown away, and the beautiful woman he'd lost, and how he couldn't perform as a man any more. Dance little puppet, she thought wickedly. "Olly, are you OK?" He was staring straight ahead and Sam could see those bold blue eyes welling up. "Jesus Sam, what am I going to do? I've thrown it all away," he whimpered. "Hey, don't cry silly," Sam replied. "I can help you." "How could you possibly help me," he spat, trying to stop his tears. "As if I need help from Samantha Jones." "Fuck you," Sam thought. "You'll see how Samantha Jones can help you." "I'm sorry," Olly said after a moment. "I shouldn't have said that." "It's OK," Sam replied. God, she was so stoic. "You didn't mean it." "No you're right, I didn't." He wiped his eyes clean with his sleeve. "I'm sorry Sam. God, I've hit rock bottom. The bank are going to take my flat this month and I've got no idea where I'm going to go." "Have you spoken to the bank? Can't they give you an extension?" "I'm all out of extensions," he sighed. "Never been that good with money to be honest. Megan used to pay the bills and stuff like that. I was good at spending the money though. Jesus, the amount I've thrown away." "You know," Sam said, rubbing his hand in a soothing fashion. "I can help you out with money if you need it." "Oh no, I couldn't....." "Really Olly, money isn't a factor for me. I'd really like to help you out though, will you let me?" "Why would you want to help me? Especially after all I did....." "Ancient history," Sam replied brightly. "you can't let the bank take your flat, and if you claim bankruptcy that will ruin you forever. Believe me, I had a friend who was made bankrupt and she could never get so much as a 30 day loan ever again." "I'm stunned," Olly replied, clearly lost for words. "But are you sure?" God, you're such a worthless taker, Sam thought. That's how you've got through life, by taking what you need whenever you could. Taking money from gullible people for crap cars. Taking from your girlfriend. Taking other people's dignity away to make you feel big. "Of course I'm sure. I'd love to help you out. I know what you're going through remember." "I really don't know what to say. Katy was right about you, you're one in a million." "Oh no," Sam replied. "I'm just lucky enough to be able to help. But I really would prefer it if you came and stayed with Katy and me for a little while. We've got lots of space and I don't think you should spend too much time alone. Plus, maybe I could help you go easier on the booze?" "I'd like that," Olly replied softly. "I really would." "Excellent. Oh, this is going to be fun," Sam cried. "Katy is going to be so happy too." It's time for dinner little doggie, Sam thought, I'm ringing the bell. The next couple of months passed in a blur for Olly. Sam had been as good as her word and took on his mortgage, although he really didn't understand why. She also helped him lay off the drink as promised, cleverly weaning him off like a mother moving her child from breast to bottle. The only problem was that Olly needed something to take his mind away from drink, and he found that in food. God, Sam was such a good cook! She prepared awesome Cottage Pies and delicious deep stews that left Oliver feeling so full and contented that he thought his eyes would roll up in his head. Then there were the puddings of course. Sam loved to serve Katy and him big generous puddings, telling them that they both deserved it for beating their demons. He'd thrown away his 32 inch waist jeans some time ago, and now found himself wearing a pair of 36 inch chinos that Sam had bought for him. He'd also noticed a definite jiggling underneath his tops, where he was developing quite the pair of middle aged man boobs. "Fuck it," he thought, "there'll be plenty of time to lose that." He couldn't really explain it, but he found himself in total thrall of Sam. She was so wonderful, so perfect, so understanding. Sometimes they'd talk through the night, with Sam managing to find a way of making all his problems slide away. She told him not to worry about finding a job yet, that she'd look after him while he got better. She told him that there were other fish in the sea and that he needed to move past Megan, but that she understood that it would take time. She giggled about his weight gain, telling him that it the same had happened to her when she'd stopped drinking. "I think you look better with a little meat on your bones," she'd told him. "All big and manly." Katy kept dropping in some nights too, although since she'd started her night course she'd been more occupied with that. He still couldn't rise to the occasion, but they had fun playing with each other and he enjoyed seeing how hard he could make her orgasm. It was Katy's idea to introduce the dildo, a ten inch black monstrosity that Olly worked with expert precision, making her explode with excitement. He did feel silly well their stomachs would rub together though, like a pair of beached whales. Katy was still getting bigger, her belly protruded wildly over the waistband of her trousers now but it was as though she had stopped caring. Olly promised himself that he would sort himself out before he got to that point. He was getting ready that morning to go out with Sam. They were going to the dentist, with Sam promising to pay for all the work he needed to make his discoloured and displaced teeth perfect again. He'd protested lightly of course, but he liked the idea too much to protest too vehemently. "They're not too bad," the dentist, an attractive young brunette, told him. "I've definitely seen much worse." Olly spat out the mouthwash. "Well, they're definitely not my best feature, if you know what I mean." He gave her a wink. The famous Olly wink. "Oh, I see I'll have to watch you," the dentist replied flirtily. "What would your wife say?" "My wife?" "Oh sorry. I thought the blonde lady in the waiting room was your wife." "God no." Olly looked at the dentist's breasts poking out from her under her white tunic, wondering if he could get hard for her. "That's just my friend." "Must be a good friend, paying for this work. Anyway, I can do the cleaning now, and then we'll take an x-ray to see what kind of braces you need." "Braces? No-one said anything about braces! I thought you could just straighten them?" "Blimey, you weren't kidding when you said you didn't know much about teeth, were you," the dentist laughed. "But don't worry. Braces can be all but invisible now. We can fit them next week." "Don't worry about it," Sam had told him while they drove home. "I'm going to take Katy to see the dentist next week too, so at least you won't go through it all alone." It wasn't the first time that Olly had considered the odd dynamic that was forming in the house. It was clear that Sam had become an almost mother like figure, and that he and Katy were almost like her dutiful children. She washed their clothes for them, she made dinner, she took them to the dentist. It would have been embarrassing, except that it seemed to give Sam so much pleasure to help them that they wanted her to do it for them. When they went back the following week, the dentist showed him the options and the prices. He could have those invisible braces that she told him about, or the more old fashioned metallic braces like the ones he remembered kids at school having. The invisible ones were four times the price though. "You should get the invisible braces," Sam told him. "Honestly, don't worry about it." But he'd notice her wince just a little at the price tag. It really wasn't fair to make her spend all that extra money, when the metallic braces would be just as good. For once, Sam didn't argue and let him get the cheaper option. He started to regret his choice though, as just before she started to apply them, the dentist realised she only had pink braces left. "It's so long since anyone's asked for them that I've just run out of metallic and blue." "Why don't you take the invisible?" Sam offered. "It's no problem." But Olly felt strangely resolute. It didn't really matter if his braces were pink. The dentist told him that he'd only need them for six months, and who was going to see them? Fuck it, he thought. Man up and take the pink braces. "They're hardly noticeable," Sam told him afterwards. That wasn't true, but Olly appreciated the sentiment. "You're a bad liar," he said, noticing for the first time how the braces made him lisp just a little. It was even stranger when Katy got her braces the next day, choosing the same pink ones that Olly had. "Well I couldn't ask her to spend more, could I," Katy had explained. "Besides, I thought it would kind of cute. We're like the braces twins. We can help each other keep them clean." Sam could barely contain her glee at seeing Olly struggle with his new braces. That he'd been lumbered with pink ones was a stroke of luck too. He was performing right to plan, and it made her so happy. But how to keep things moving? The weight gain was going well for both of them, hell Katy was almost finished, but Olly had some catching up to do. She calculated in her head. He was still only a 36 inch waist, which equated to a women's size 16. He'd need to go up to a 40 inch waist to get to Katy's size 20. By that point, he'd be just as much of a marshmallow as she had become. Although the funny thing was that Katy thought she was still a size 16 herself, because Sam had been ripping out the size labels from her ever expanding leggings. That's the biggest size she'd been at school. They'd had to buy her uniform from a special stockist and it left her with a different skirt to the other girls. She hadn't even wanted to wear a skirt, but the school had insisted. Wankers. She hated how the tights made the top of her legs rub together, and how her legs looked so huge, not like the other girls with their supermodel bodies. Everyone laughed at her, even the little year 7 girls and boys. It was no wonder she'd left school at 16. But being stuck at home with Nana, gorging on junk food and watching soap operas, was no life either. So she joined a walking club. God, it was hard at first, but she stuck at it. Then she joined a gym. Then she started running. She'd hoped that might make the taunting stop. Those ghostly voices that came back to her at night, chasing her through her dreams and screaming at her. Thunder thighs. Lardo. Fat bitch. But if anything, they became stronger. Only now, they had started screaming at her that she needed to get even. It was their fault of course. She had to deal with them. Sam moved her hand underneath her nightie as she lay in bed and started to caress herself slowly. There was only one thing to think about of course. "Big Time Olly', now just one of her little disciples. The way she'd made him dance made her feel so powerful that she felt like she could explode. Maybe she could even get him to call her Mummy eventually. He'd be her fat little marshmallow, all shy and nervous. She worked herself slowly, savouring the idea. He had no idea what was about to hit him really. He'd have to beg for her help. She was almost there now. Beg little puppet, beg. Beg your Mummy for help. She threw her head back onto the pillow and sighed loudly. With a post- orgasmic clear head, she thought about the next step. It was time to get her girl puppet working on her boy puppet. Katy enjoyed the beauty course, but not getting ready for it. All the other girls were young and slim, with the pert boobs and toned stomachs that she'd had only a year ago and they made her feel like a whale. They didn't say it of course but she could see them slipping little glances to each other as if to mock the fat old bird in their number. The uniform for the course was a white tunic top, which Katy wore over a pair of the black leggings that Sam had bought her. Yet another thing that Sam had been so wonderful about. She'd never commented on Katy's weight gain and had even started tearing out the labels on the clothes she was buying her. She was such a thoughtful friend. But Katy knew she'd have to do something eventually. Even the short walk from the car park to the adult learning centre left her out of breath and sweating, and that was before she had to climb the two sets of stairs to the classroom, an Everest-like feat in her present state. Plus, there was a mirror at the top of stairs and she could never quite believe that the pasty, fat thighed woman was her. Still, she loved the course. One of the only things that Katy hadn't sold off at her lowest point, desperate for drugs and trying to pay rent, was her make-up box. Over the years, using Stephen's credit card of course, she'd built up an envious collection of cosmetics that she kept in a beautiful antique case that her Dad had given her as an 18th birthday present. Sometimes she'd sit in front of the make-up case and pretend that she was 18 again and that all the bad stuff in her life had never happened. The course had moved onto hair styling now, which Katy found very exciting. In truth, a lot of the make-up stuff had been pretty easy, but she found cutting and styling hair far more of a challenge. She'd even heard sneers from a few of the other girls at her efforts, which left her feeling red faced and pathetic. But her work partner, a chatty little girl called Jasmine, had told her to forget them. "They're just jealous because you were better at the wedding make up than them," Jasmine told her. The pair of them were putting hair extensions on their mannequins, and Jasmine had already raced ahead with her efforts. It wasn't rocket science, Katy knew that. She had put extensions in her hair lots of times, but somehow it was though she'd forgotten how to do it. She needed more practice, so she covertly grabbed a couple of sets from the communal box, they weren't really supposed to take them home but no-one would know, and stuffed them in her bag. She chose a chestnut red- brown set to practice on herself with, and then picked up a blonde set too, knowing that Sam would be more than happy to let her practice on her. "Hey, I need to pop into New Look after class to get a dress for next week," Jasmine said, still applying blonde hair to her mannequin head. "do you want to come with me??" She'd been talking for weeks about this party she was going to, her friends 21st birthday, and it made Katy feel so old. God, she could barely remember 31 anymore, never mind 21. "Thanks Jas, but I don't think I'm going to get anything in New Look in my size." Katy looked down at her white tunic, which was barely containing her boobs and belly any more, and felt so angry with herself all over again. "Don't be silly," Jasmine replied. "You're not big at all. God, did you see Jeremy Kyle this morning? There was some woman on there that was 30 stone. Now that's big." Katy thought about this. Maybe Jasmine was right. Perhaps she was being too hard on herself. She was sure she could still squeeze into a size 16, which wasn't terrible. Plus, Sam had given her ?100 spending money earlier in the week which she still had most of. She was filled with a tinge of excitement as the pair of them made the short (thankfully) walk from the adult centre to the mall across the road. It had been months since Katy had been shopping, the idea was just too depressing, but she immediately caught the buzz again as soon as they walked through the doors. The glow of the window displays. The bustle of people, happy with their new things. "I don't want to get anything slutty," Jasmine mused as they made their way to New Look. "But I want something short enough to show off the tan on my legs." "Anything would look good on you," Katy told her, fishing for compliments. "Aww, thanks babe. Everything would look good on you too." But that was a lie and they both knew it. Katy sighed as she looked at the racks of pretty clothes and then down at her dowdy black leggings. She ached to wear some of the things in front of her. The cute dresses and the smart tailored trousers. Stephen had liked her in the best clothes, and she always dressed up for him. He especially liked her to wear sexy undies, and Katy thought of some of the gorgeous little things she'd owned. They were in stark contrast to the plain white knickers she was wearing now, mainly chosen because they contained her belly better than the others. Katy focused her attention on a beautiful dark pink chiffon dress, with a cute diamante embellishment on the waist and a really pretty tie detail at the back. It was just the kind of thing that Stephen would have liked her in. She ran her hand along the fabric and dreamed about how good it would feel on, imagining Stephen running his hand along her toned, tanned legs and then underneath the dress. "You should try it on," Jasmine told her, interrupting Katy's thoughts before they got too racy. "That would look so cute on you. It's made for your colouring." Katy looked at the size labels. It only went up to size 16, but surely she could squeeze herself into it? After all, she was pretty sure her leggings were size 16 and although she knew they were supposed to stretch, they were a pretty good fit. Even if she didn't buy it, it would be nice to see how it looked. Like a child on Christmas morning, she took the dress to the changing area, trying to ignore all the stick thin young girls coming in and out, telling herself that she wasn't as big as she was making out. Her excitement grew as she struggled out of her work tunic and leggings, being careful not to look at herself in the mirror as she did so, and slipped the dress of the hanger. It was so nice to touch. So light and airy. So feminine. Since her weight gain, she'd had to settle for shapeless, horrible androgynous clothes, chosen to best hide her size. But this dress was the exact opposite. It was the kind of thing she'd have worn for going out to dinner with Stephen, or for drinks with the girlfriends of his work colleagues. She always looked the best on those nights out. She took the dress and slipped it over her head. It took some work to pull it over her bra, an ugly old lady shaper bra that Sam had given her, but she told herself that it wasn't the right type of bra for the outfit anyway. It required something softer, maybe strapless. "You can do this," she whispered to herself, tugging at the dress to move it down toward her waist. "It's a size 16 for fuck sake." But it was so tight! Suddenly Katy became very aware that she was sweating, no helped by the low lighting, and it was making the dress stick to the top of her belly. Full of resolve, she pulled the hem over the worst of the bumps but it would barely move. "Come on," she whispered again, sure it would look OK once she got it over her waist. "Are you OK in there sweetie," Jasmine called. "I'm fine," Katy replied, more out of breath than she could believe. Fucking Jasmine. This had been her idea. The dress was firmly wedged into a crevasse between her boobs and belly now, and wasn't moving. Katy tried again, this time breathing in with all her might and then pulling the hem firmly. It moved a tiny bit, but stopped again still way short of the top of her knickers. Katy gave up. Clearly New Look and its cute dresses had been a pipe dream. She would have to stick to horrible leggings and large t-shirts for now. She took hold of the hem and tried lifting it up. But it wouldn't move that way either. "Fuck fuck fuck," Katy whispered, then faster. "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck." She couldn't pull it any harder without ripping the shoulders or the skirt of the dress, but it just wasn't budging. She hated herself with a vengeance. How the hell had she let herself go so much? She was like those fat women who her friends had laughed at on nights out, all wedged uncomfortably into their horrible mini dresses. She was like, well, she thought of how she'd taken the piss out of Sam for all those years at school. "Fuck fuck fuck," she whispered again. "Are you sure you're OK?" Jasmine asked again. Katy looked down at herself. Sweaty, sticky, rolls of fat protruded from under the hem of the dress, with the dress lodged uncomfortably underneath her bra and biting viciously into her armpits. She felt herself welling up. "I need your help Jasmine," she said eventually, mascara stained tears starting to flow down her perfectly made up face. "I'm so sorry," Katy cried, as the girl stepped into the cubicle. Olly knew that living with two women wasn't going to be ideal, a fact brought home to him as Sam comforted Katy in the front room by pouring her another glass of wine. He'd had to stifle laughter to be honest, but finding the idea of Katy stuck with a dress stuck halfway down her body and her old lady knickers on show to the world would have been funny to most people. Sam hadn't laughed though. "Oh babe, don't get yourself all worked up. It was probably just badly sized." "They had to cut me out of it," Katy had sobbed. "They actually had to get a pair of scissors and cut the dress in two. I wanted to die. I can't go back to that class now. I bet Jasmine will tell everyone." Still, Olly's mirth was tempered slightly by the knowledge that he was putting on weight himself. Not that getting a dress stuck over his head in New Look was something that he had to worry about of course, but he didn't like how now even his 36 inch waist chinos were starting to bite into his waist. He hated the braces too. He didn't understand why he'd let them put the pink ones on him. Sam had plenty of money, he should have gone for the invisibles. At least then, he wouldn't have had to try and keep his mouth closed when he went outside. Worse still was that lisp. It made him sound like a fucking simpleton, like one of the nerdy kids he'd beat up at school for a laugh. Walking back to his room, he wondered what Megan would think of him now, gaining weight with pink braces and holed up with two oddballs like Katy and Sam. He'd thought a few times about asking Sam if she'd mind him moving back into his flat, but he could never quite muster the nerve to do it. Amazing as it seemed, he found himself a little intimidated by her, especially when she fixed those deep brown eyes onto him. It wasn't all bad. He was definitely drinking less, and getting free room and board while he recovered. Sam was so thoughtful too. She'd persuaded him that he should take his Maths and English GCSEs again, telling him that he was wasted selling crappy cars and that with a few qualifications he could find something far more interesting. Olly particularly liked the idea of becoming a sports therapist, and so let Sam book him up for an adult education centre. It didn't start for a month though, so Olly was reading some of Sam's old revision books in the meantime. Going back to the classroom and wearing braces, Olly thought. Fucking hell. Katy came into him that night, looking fatter and more pathetic than ever. She'd sidled up next to him, the single bed not really big enough for both of them anymore, and then cuddled in to his chest like a scared child. "I can't go back to that college now." She had already moved her hand down to his penis, but her melancholy was apparent even in the way she was fondling him. "Well don't then," Olly replied, not interested in her complaining. He wasn't even sure if he was interested in her at all anymore. That vision of her in the changing rooms was enough to kill any sexy thoughts. "Can we play our game?" Katy asked, the wine on her breath stronger than ever. "that might make me feel better." She rolled off the bed to get the dildo from the top drawer. Normally she handed it straight to Olly to let him get to work, but she had a different look in her eyes tonight. "We should try something different," she said. "Something kinky." "This is pretty kinky babe," Olly replied. She got back onto the bed. "Yeah I know, but I feel sorry for you. Having to do the same thing every night. You should have some fun too." "What do you mean?" Olly looked at the dildo in her hand. It looked even bigger with only the moonlight illuminating the room. She started to rub the dildo. "Wouldn't you like to know how it feels?" She whispered. "wouldn't you like Katy to be in charge?" Olly felt his blood run cold. "iIn charge how?" She leaned in to him. "You'd like to know how this tastes, wouldn't you?" This was kinky. Olly had done lots of strange stuff, but he'd never had the woman use the dildo on him before. Was the idea exciting him just a little bit? God, was the idea of Katy being in charge getting him aroused? He reached down to feel his penis, which was stiffening at a rapid rate. "Oh, we might have found the thing that gets little Olly excited," Katy said. She took the dildo and touched the tip of it with her tongue, before moving it toward his face. "Your turn." "I can't," Olly panted. "You will," Katy replied. "You're my little bitch, aren't you? Say it." Olly felt momentarily ridiculous, but ever more excited. Still, he couldn't bring himself to say it. "It should have been you in that dressing room," Katy continued. "You'd look lovely in a pretty chiffon dress. It's not like your little knob would get in the way, is it? Probably hide that with some sexy undies, right?" "Katy, what the hell?" There was the strangest look in her eyes. It reminded him of someone else, but he couldn't remember who. "Touch the dildo," Katy whispered. "I know you'll like it. Bimbos like you always do." Was she drunk? He was pretty certain she was, but it was still weird. Yet, he was definitely being turned on, to the point where he could finally feel the beginnings of an orgasm forming. God, he hadn't felt that warm glow in months, not since Megan. He wanted to get there so much. "Touch it," Katy commanded, sterner this time. Oh God, Olly thought, as he extended his tongu