Yes, But... free porn video

"Well, yeah, they're pigs," Simon tried to agree with the raven-haired beauty sitting opposite him. "But unfortunately they're not doing anything illegal so one can't just charge over there and tell them to get lost." His night hadn't been going well. His date stood him up without an explanation, the bar was far too crowded, the music too loud, and the beer he was sipping had gone flat. He had thought it might have taken something of an upturn when the long-legged, porcelain featured beauty had sat down next to him and gifted him with a slight smile as she ordered her drink, but even that turned out to be false hope. Instead, she had immediately begun a conversation focused on pointing out the behaviour of some of the men in the pub and how misogynistic it was, and the shame that no-one was doing anything about it. "So what, you are happy to sit there and let that guy for instance," she pointed at a fit, balding man in his early forties who was attempting to dance with a pair of women in their mid-twenties. They women were moving to keep their backs to him and trying their best to ignore him. "Try and hit on women that, give or take a few years and a couple of mistakes, could be his daughters?" "If he laid a hand on them I'd be on my feet," Simon informed her, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but he's just dancing near them." "But you can see they're uncomfortable, right?" she pressed. He glanced up and ran his gaze over the two women. Both were fit, blonde, and wearing 'club-level' jewellery and makeup - a bit much for a pub, he thought. One wore a black pleated skirt that was perhaps six inches long and a pink singlet that clung to her body with sweat, outlining a pair of perky b-cup breasts. Her friend was in a blue midi-dress that showed off her slightly curvier frame, muscled thighs and d-cups cradled in a blue lace bra that just poked above the neckline. Finally he dragged his gaze up to their faces and he saw what the woman was talking about: they weren't smiling. Both had slight grimaces on their faces as they continued to try and move away from the older man. He turned his gaze back to the dark-haired woman to see a scowl across her elegantly made-up face, bowed crimson lips pressed together disapprovingly. "You're right," he agreed, "they are. But they can leave if they want to." "You only realised that after you'd given them a full eyeful," she pointed out, still scowling. "You don't think there was anything wrong with the way you stared at them." It wasn't a question, and she pressed on. "But my point is that they shouldn't have to leave. If those girls would rather come to a pub they like and dance, rather than a club, they should be able to do so without having to worry about a guy, not just captain creepy over there but any guy, hitting on them." Simon thought about that, and he could see her point, but at the same time he couldn't really see a way out. So he lapsed into silence, sipping at his beer and letting out a sigh. It was a shame a beautiful woman didn't want to talk to him about his interests, or her interests, or something more interesting than the state of society. He heard the scrape of rubber on wood and looked up to see her drag her stool closer, gesturing to the bartender without looking at him and pointing to her whiskey glass, now empty. "So that's it?" she asked him, looking from his pint to his face. "You're going to give up? What's your plan for the rest of the night then, sip at warm lager and stare at pretty young girls?" She slipped her credit card to the bartender who scanned it and handed it back without a word, moving to serve another of the constant line of customers. O'Flaherty's was a fairly typical pub: wooden decor, some old trinkets on the shelves in no particular rhyme or pattern. A few dozen booths along one wall and some tables closer to the kitchen, and a long bar with small dance floor nearby. There was no live music or dj tonight, but the electronic jukebox system was getting a solid workout. Most patrons were male, regulars and work friends, possibly a birthday or some sort of celebration going on at one of the tables. The two blondes were among six women on the dance floor, the most striking for sure but all of them wore sexy outfits and as he tried to ignore the argumentative woman beside him he noticed that each was attractive in their own way. "Oh my god, I can't believe that you're still doing it," she told him, and as he turned he saw that she looked genuinely surprised. "What?" he asked. "You're staring at them again, just after I pointed out how sad and offensive it was." "Look, I'll be the first to agree that what a woman wears should have no bearing on how she's treated by anyone, but at the same time if she's wearing something that makes her look attractive, is it so bad if I just look? It's not like I need a towel to mop up the drool or that I'm staring at them for ages with a pair of bloody binoculars, right?" He was starting to get tired of her confrontational attitude. He didn't ask for a goddamn lecture, he just wanted to drink a little of his misery away and go home. "Do you honestly think that women enjoy being looked at?" she asked, her tone taking on a dangerous edge. "You know what?" Simon replied, his temper getting the better of him. "Yeah, I think that most women do. Not all, but most I think get a little bit of a thrill about knowing they can turn a guy's head with a bit of cleavage or leg. Some I bet even get off on it. Women just can't help themselves." "I see," was all she said, and with that she turned her back on him and stared into her whiskey, swirling the amber around in the glass. Simon sighed and turned away as well, taking a long pull at his pint. He was tired now, and just wanted to go, but a tiny part of him couldn't bring himself to not drink the beer he'd paid for, even if he didn't really want it anymore. "A change of topic?" the woman asked after a moment, her tone mild. He turned back to see her looking at him with a tentative hint of a smile on her face, and he shrugged, "why not?" "My name is Victoria, my friends call me Tori," she told him, offering her hand. He took it and gave it a light pump, surprised to find that she actually gripped his hand properly, "Simon." "Okay Simon, let's play a little game," she smiled broadly then. "It's something I used to play when I was at university, it's called 'yes - but'." "Sure," he replied, liking the bubbly version of Tori much more. He wasn't sure what had brought on the change, but he wasn't going to pass up a chance to have a pleasant talk with a beautiful woman, at least until he finished his beer. "The rules are simple: I'll point out one of the girls or guys in the room and describe something I like about them, and then you say 'yes - but' and then describe a way that you'd improve them. If I agree that your recommendation would actually be an improvement, then I say 'fair point'. Whoever can get the other person to say 'fair point' five times, wins. You need to be honest, obviously, or else it's just dumb. Can you be honest with me Simon?" "I have been all night," he pointed out with a smile, "I'm in." "Yay," she giggled, clapping her hands like a girl a decade younger than her mid-thirties. "I'll start," she announced staring around the pub. "I would start with the creepy guy, but there is nothing about him that I like at all, so let's go with the guy next to him, in the white t-shirt." He looked out and saw a thin man with sandy blonde hair and light stubble wearing the shirt she described. "I really like his face, he's definitely adorkable." "Yes, but he could do with some more muscles, not beefcake, but he'd have better luck with at least some definition," Simon replied. "Fair point," Tori conceded, "you're good at this." He smiled and cast his gaze around, but found it drawn back to the pair of blondes who had successfully made their way around the floor enough to put some distance between themselves and captain creepy. "The blonde in the skirt," he decided, "I like the way she moves her hips." "Yes, but she couldn't definitely use a bigger rack. I think she'd look stunning with boobs at least two cups bigger than her friend's." Tori's response took Simon a little by surprise, but he thought about what she said. That would give the shorter blonde at least e-cups, with would no doubt be visible from the back on her thinner frame, but he couldn't deny that he didn't find the idea attractive. "Fair point," he conceded, and felt a slight tingle in his hands when he said it. "Really?" Tori asked, "I didn't really figure you for a boob man." Simon shrugged, "your turn." She looked around the room again and fixed on a couple enjoying a quiet drink in one of the booths and pointed them out to him. "I really like her hair," she said, "I never have the patience to do ringlets." The woman was middle-aged with a pretty face and, as Tori pointed out, chestnut hair curled elaborately into perfect ringlets. Her figure was thin, almost androgynous though. "Yes, but she needs curves. She's way too skinny. Bigger thighs, hips, keep the waist the same but she could even do with a bit more breadth to her shoulders." "Perfect for a bigger rack?" Tori asked with a wicked smile. "Sue me," he shot back. "Fair point," she agreed, "but clearly she's got something going for her as he seems smitten, and there's gold on the ring finger." "Alright, my turn," he mused looking back over the room. He moved his eyes away from the dance floor and spotted a brunette at the other end of the bar with two guys. Her eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, almost luminescent in the low light. "The brunette at the end of the bar," he said to Tori, "I love the way her darker hair offsets her pale skin and those brilliant eyes." "Yes," she agreed immediately, "but..." she paused in thought. "Look at how she's dressed - a bit plain right?" The woman was wearing a t-shirt, brown suede jacket and jeans. Perfectly casual pub wear. Simon shrugged, waiting to hear her 'improvement'. "I think she should show off her assets a bit more, there's a nice ass and tits under that. She should also enjoy being looked at more." Simon knew there was only one answer he could give, considering his earlier tirade, if he didn't want to look like a hypocrite. "Fair point," he conceded again, and once more there was a slightly tingle across his hands. He rubbed them together, touching each fingertip, but Tori didn't seem to notice as she was scouting out the room again. "Okay, I'm going to be a little naughty, if you don't mind?" she asked him with a playful smirk. He nodded enthusiastically, this was going really well and perhaps he might be able to coax something more out of this game, like her phone number or an actual date. "I'm going to pick two girls - those two with the birthday party." Simon looked to the table at the back and saw the women. They were almost opposites, one was short, chubby, with a wide grin on her face and a tangled mess of strawberry curls. The other was tall, athletic, even muscled, and wore a sour expression under a buzz-cut of dark stubble. "I absolutely adore the shorter girl's enthusiasm and zest, but I love the taller one's height. I often wish I could be tall without the help of heels." "Yes, but..." Simon thought for a moment before smiling. "I think the redhead could be showing off her tits more - she's clearly proud of them with that faux corset, but at the same time she seems nervous about them. She needs to really enjoy showing her tits off. As for the taller one...she needs to get laid." "You're going to need to elaborate," Tori giggled. "Look at her, so stern, so pent up. Girl or guy, whatever, but the girl needs to get some release and really enjoy it with every fibre of her being." "So strawberry needs to enjoy having her tits looked at, and buzz-cut needs to have sex and really enjoy it? Unusual, but I have to say, fair point." Simon grinned, "so does that count as 2?" "Hmm, I suppose, 4 points to you then. To make it fair though, I think you need to pick 2 now as well so that I can catch up." "Agreed," he said, looking back over the room. They had been focusing mainly on the girls after the first round, but he didn't mind and didn't see a need to change, he didn't particularly want to know in what ways he might fall short of Tori's ideal man, and she seemed to be getting a kick out of commenting on the women. Finally he decided on a family having dinner. The parents looked to be in their late forties, and their daughter was with them. She looked to be in her late teens, early twenties. Too young for him, but for the purposes of the game, she'd do. "See the family over there," he pointed them out and Tori nodded. "I like the way the mother has kept herself reasonably fit, and I like the way the daughter's hair has been kept long." "So very tame," Tori chided playfully, "but you've given me a lot to work with, so thank you." She pondered for a moment, and then grinned, "Yes, but I think the mother should lead her husband into sex more often, but then be submissive once she's there. And for the daughter, she's starting to fill out okay, but I think she definitely needs a bubble butt to balance out that nice rack of hers." Simon swallowed thickly, he had been diplomatically trying to avoid the younger woman's great chest as, while he appreciated them - they had to be f-cups at least - it felt wrong to be commenting on a girl the same age as his kid sister's tits. "Fair point," he said, blushing furiously. Tori stared at him for a moment, her eyes going sad for a brief second, before she recovered. "Well, we've both been pretty agreeable so far, no missed chances, and we're all tied up at four a piece," she pointed out. "So if I'm not careful you could win this round." "And what do I win?" he ventured. "I will give you something that you will definitely enjoy before you even leave this pub, and continue to enjoy after," she winked. His mouth went dry and he coughed slightly, before finishing his beer to cover his flaming face. "So I need to make this harder," she continued, pretending she didn't see it. Eventually she pointed to a man sitting by the door. He was chiselled muscle, but not in a bodybuilder kind of way. Everyday muscle with a handsome face and welcoming smile as he talked with his friends. "I like pretty much everything about him," she told Simon in a breathy voice, and he could see why. He stared at the man for a long moment, trying to come up with something to improve, until finally he saw it, the light touch on the guy next to him's leg. "Yes, but I think - in your case - he could be improved by tweaking his sexual orientation to at least bisexual, instead of homosexual." Tori raised an eyebrow, "who's to say he isn't already?" "You never mentioned that we needed to know, we can only work with what we can presume in a game this shallow anyway," he grinned back at her. Tori sighed and nodded, holding up her hands in defeat, "fair point." "So, what's my prize?" he asked. "First, let's just run through what we've learned, shall we." Tori told him, the playfulness suddenly gone from her tone. "You have pointed out the following features from people that you like: you like a girl who knows how to move her hips, a girl with pale skin, dark hair but bright eyes, and you like someone who can keep themselves fit and has long hair. Correct?" Simon nodded. "Okay, you also agreed with my improvements of big tits, you're definitely a boob man, you also agreed that women should show off more and enjoy being looked at, and then women should be keen for sex but submissive once it's started, and that tits need to be balanced by an appropriate ass." He nodded again, not sure where this was going. "Finally, you suggested that women would look better with some curves, definitely hourglass shape, you specifically said that not only should women enjoy being looked at, but they should really enjoy their tits being looked at. You also pointed out that women should really enjoy having sex, regardless of who their partner was and that being bisexual would be an advantage for people." "That's right," he agreed automatically. Simon blinked, he didn't mean to say that. "I'm glad you're honest," Tori told him, reaching out and taking his hands in hers, "but then again, after my first spell you didn't really have much of a choice." "What?" he asked, but she just shushed him. "You don't get to talk anymore, not until I say so." He tried to contradict her, but found that he couldn't make a sound. His eyes widened but he was frozen in place, her hands on his. "You might pretend to be a decent man Simon, but you're just as much of a pig as captain creeper. So I'm going to teach you a little lesson. You believe that women should be about sex, that they - what were your words - 'can't help themselves'?" He nodded, forced to confirm her quote. "So, let's put that to the test. Let's start from the top: long dark hair, pale skin and bright eyes." Simon felt a prickling sensation, like what he'd felt earlier in this hands, but now it was all over him, like blood returning to a limb that had fallen asleep. He watched in mute fascination as his slight tan faded to pale, milky skin. His face felt different, and as he looked over Tori's shoulder he could see a partial reflection in the mirrored surface behind the bar. His face was shifting, like a poorly done animation, but when it settled he had a slightly upturned nose, brilliant blue eyes, soft pouty lips and a heart-shaped face. His dark hair kept its colour but steadily lengthened and straightened until it swept over his shoulders and down his back. He looked in his mid-twenties now, rather than mid thirties. "Now the figure - hourglass, tits, hips and ass." Tori's smile had turned vicious and he felt the tingling sweep over him again. Firstly he began to shrink, the world rising around him as he found himself looking slightly up into Tori's face. His clothes were baggy now, business shirt and slacks hanging off his bony frame, and his shoes plopped, one by one, to the floor. Then he felt it, a kind of stretching, both painful and pleasurable at the same time, like a firm massage. He couldn't see what was happening at first, and the feeling was too generalised, too overwhelmingly odd to pick out specifics. It wasn't long until he could see it in the mirror though. His shirt began to move out in front of him, material pressing flat against flesh that shouldn't be there. He could feel it then, tightness across his chest, his hips, his thighs as the clothes, once too big for him, now struggled with his curves. "Let's help you out a little," Tori said, "clothes to show off your assets, right?" As Simon watched the shirt began to change, and he had to assume the rest of his wardrobe was similarly altering under whatever Tori was doing to him. The sleeves began to slide upward as the collar disappeared, revealing more creamy flesh beneath. Slowly it settled into a red a-line dress, crossed in front with off-the-shoulder straps to better reveal the miles of cleavage that Simon's immense tits provided. He could feel the strapless bra underneath, but already his back was telling him that it didn't give enough support for their weight. His boobs were painful, pressing on his ribs, and while he had had enough conversations with women to know that large breasts weren't easy, he never thought it would be like this. "You look uncomfortable," Tori pointed out, "did the new clothes not help?" He felt himself shake his head slightly, long hair moving with the motion. "Good thing we're at step four then," she smirked, "the mental changes. I'm sure those breasts will be worth it in a moment." He felt his mouth go dry as a heat began to build in his chest. He found that he could move his head a little, and so his first look was down to stare at his own cleavage. The male part of his mind was instantly excited by the view and he gasped as he felt a barrage of new feelings assault him. His nipples, not exactly something he'd thought about much before, tightened noticeably. He could feel them now, acutely, rubbing against the inside of the bra. His breath came faster as warmth began to build between his legs. She could feel, actually feel, the blood rushing to her new pussy. It was warm, and the more she thought about it, and her breasts, and the beautiful woman sitting opposite her, she could actually feel it begin to moisten. "That feels good, doesn't it, Simone?" Tori asked, leaning closer "Yes," she sighed, desperately wanting to be able to move. "We're almost done," she told her, leaning closer so that their lips almost brushed. "You find yourself hot, but that's the last part of Simon giving up. You still find me attractive of course, but take a look around and tell me how you feel." Tori leaned back and Simone looked around the pub, at the hot blondes dancing still, at the girls at the party, and she still found them attractive. But now she was also looking at the men, crossing some off immediately while finding that her eyes lingered on others, on chiselled jaws or delts showing under tight shirts, and she felt the same thrumming through her veins as heaving breasts and swinging hips gave her. "Oh god, I'm so wet," she breathed. It was true, and even without looking down again she knew that through both bra and dress her nipples, swollen now to their fullest size, would likely be visible. "And we're not done yet," Tori announced. "I'm going to give you one last chance to prove that you're in control of yourself, and that you can change. In a moment I'm going to cancel the spell that has kept our fun little game out of everyone's view and they're all going to be able to see you. And believe me, the way you look now compared to every other woman in this place, they will see you. If you can make it outside and to your car without giving in, then I will change you back and hopefully you will have learned something. Otherwise, as I promised, you will enjoy yourself Simone - and you will continue to enjoy yourself. After all, you love sex, you're on the pill so you can enjoy it, and you love to seek it out, but you're so very submissive." Tori let go of Simone's hands and raised one of her own, and with a wink, clicked her fingers. Simone felt a snap, like a faint thread holding her back had been cut, and she could move. She knew she needed to make it to the door but there were two options. The most direct was straight across the dance floor which was growing less crowded, or by circling around the booths which was longer, but most patrons were seated. Then she felt them - the eyes. Her gaze flicked from Tori to the nearest table, where two of the men were staring at her openly. She pressed her legs together as a small rush of heat flooded into her core and Simone realised with a start that she could feel wetness beginning to coat her thighs. Tori hadn't given her any panties. That thought only excited her more and with a groan of frustration she realised she probably couldn't last the long way around before she needed to take matters into her own hands. Swallowing thickly and wishing that she'd been drinking something stronger, Simone stepped onto the dance floor, belatedly realising she was wearing three inch heels and apparently knew how to walk in them. It didn't help though as it gave her hips a more prominent swing and, though her gaze was fixed firmly on the exit sign, she knew instinctively that everyone on the dance-floor, man or woman, was looking at her and hoping to dance. She grit her teeth and sidestepped the first guy who took a step towards her, keeping her head up and eyes forward. Hopefully they would get the hint that she wasn't there to dance. She managed to avoid another by moving closer to the girls who, thank heaven, moved to block him. She turned to look at one of them, the taller, curvier one, and mouthed 'thank you', but the distraction sent her bumping into someone else. She stumbled, her ability to walk in the heels apparently gone for a moment, and she felt hands on her shoulders catching her. They felt good on her skin. Really good. Strong and warm. Simone stayed there a moment, enjoying the sensation of having her weight supported, before she remembered herself and stood up straight, blushing. She bit down her sense of obligation, to turn and say sorry, and took another step towards the exit. The man let her go, but his hand trailed down her back, sending shivers down her spine. Those shivers drove straight into her nethers and Simone gasped, her next step a shuddering, wobbling one. She almost stumbled, but the hands were on her shoulders again, and she looked up into a handsome face. It wasn't the overwhelmingly strong features of the man Tori had pointed out near the entrance, but his deep brown eyes were concerned as he looked down a fine, slightly hooked nose at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, not moving apart from supporting her. Then his gaze flicked to her cleavage, to the milky-white flesh of her breasts heaving with her breath as it came faster, and Simone melted back into his arms with pleasure. His hands slid down her arms and wrapped around her, settling on her stomach, his biceps against her breasts. It felt so good to have him looking at her, to have his arms and hands touching her. She thought she moaned a little then and his hands began to move slightly on her stomach as if not sure to come up to her tits or down further. She felt her ass rubbing up against him, and then she felt something else, his hardness begin to press against her. Thoughts flashed in her mind of the hungry, wet emptiness between her being filled, of having someone take the need to think away and just give and receive pleasure, and she knew she moaned then. His hands finally made their decision, considering the public place, and he lightly caressed the underside of her enormous breasts with his thumbs. Lightning shot through Simone and she gasped. She didn't think it possible but her nipples actually throbbed. "I'm staying upstairs," he whispered into her ear. "What's your name?" She looked up at him again, her eyelashes fluttering, "Simone." "I'm Eric," he smiled. "And I would dearly love to take you..." Simone knew he finished the sentence with something else, to my room, to bed, to heaven, she didn't care. She just wanted him to take her. "Yes, oh god yes," she replied, all resistance crumbling. With one arm still around her Eric led her off the dance floor and towards the rear stairs that led to the accommodation above. Simone could feel the eyes on them and wondered how many would be jealous that he was the one she picked, but as they passed Tori the woman smiled encouragingly and gave her a little wave. Her blood thrummed through her veins and Simone realised she didn't care. Eric took her hand to lead her up the stairs and she followed, her eyes running up and down his physique as they went. He was perhaps a year or two older than she appeared to be, broad shouldered and with strong arms. He had a little bit of a potbelly, but his thighs pressed against the jeans he wore, so he was no couch-potato. Thankfully his room was the first, and as he fumbled with the swipecard Simone leaned against him, revelling in the feeling of her breasts, her nipples, rubbing against his back. The door buzzed and he slipped his arm about her waist and steered her inside, flicking the light switch with one hand and nudging the door closed with a foot. The room was simple: an ensuite bathroom, single bed, and a nightstand with a cheap folding chair, but Simone didn't pay any of it much mind. The heat between her legs was sending pulses throughout her entire body, but now that they were alone in his bedroom she didn't know what to do. She wanted him to fuck her, as sure as the sky was blue, but she waited, one of his arms around her, as Eric locked the door behind them. "You are so beautiful," he told her, putting both arms around her again, "I have never met anyone like you." Simone honestly tried to speak, but the words died and were reborn as a moan as he reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands, kneading the heavy flesh. "You like this?" he asked, and she could only make vague noises. "You'll really like this then," he told her, sliding his hands up, each finger in turn pointedly flicking her engorged nipples, until his hands pressed down on the naked flesh and above. He then slipped them lower, into her bra and grasping her breasts properly, rolling her nipples between his fingers. The heat that had been building steadily, the pulses that had constantly quickened under his attentions, finally reached a crescendo and with a stuttering sigh, Simone came. "Already?" Eric asked. "Mmmm," Simone replied. He slid his hands back up, rubbing at her tits again and she quivered, another orgasm starting to build. Eric ran his hands up to her neck next, tracing the skin as he took hold of her long hair and slung it down her front. Sensing his desire, Simone reached up and slid her arms through the sleeves of the dress with Eric's help, exposing the bra beneath. With strong hands he squeezed and snapped the clasps, and Simone moaned with pleasure and relief as it fell away and her breasts sagged down, free. He began to reach for the zip but she reached behind her and ran a hand through his hair, turning her head to look at him. "No need," she breathed, then closed her eyes and opened her full lips. He obliged her with a deep, passionate kiss. Mouths and tongues searching, exploring, sharing, his hands slid down her curves, fingers lightly tracing the sides of her breasts, her hips, reaching around to cup her ass. He gave it a playful squeeze and Simone could feel him smile into their kiss, but then his hands began to gather up her skirt. Cool air played across the wetness coating her thighs as his hands slid lower and she shuddered again, sinking into him as his fingers came closer to it. He broke the kiss and looked down into Simone's face, her eyes half closed in pleasure. "You really wanted this, didn't you?" She nodded, though some dim part of her wondered why that felt strange to admit. "Please," she begged, moving her hips against his hands. Eric kept one hand lightly stroking Simone's inner thigh as he slipped another around her waist and they awkwardly moved closer to the bed. Once they were close enough he slipped his arm from around her waist, running it back across her tits as his other hand began to trace her outermost lips. She turned to kiss him again and as their lips met one finger slipped inside her and she squeaked and a pulse of sheer pleasure lanced up and down her body. "Oh Simone," he breathed, "You're on a hair-trigger." He leaned in and kissed her again as the finger began to slide in and out, well lubricated with her juices. It felt good, but it wasn't enough. "I need, I want," she broke the kiss and tried to talk, but his free hand squeezed one of her breasts and flicked the nipple and her words died. "I know," he said, "and I'm going to give you everything." Those words were magic to Simone's ears and she leaned into him, gasping as he continued to play with her sensitive tits while a second finger slipped inside her. She started moaning, little short gasps of pleasure with each thrust, until, her legs going weak, she came again. Eric slipped his fingers out of her and began rubbing them up and down between her lips, and at the apex a little jolt of joy pulsed through her. My clitoris, Simone realised, and it dawned on her how little they had really done so far and how much pleasure she had already felt. Sheer anticipation almost made her come again, but when Eric shifted his free hand down her front, snaked it under her dress and began to lightly caress her clit while the other hand sent a pair of fingers back inside, a dam broke and she collapsed forward, hands sinking into soft blankets as she screamed in pleasure. She lay there for a moment, breathing heavily, her tits pressing against her ribs as Eric removed his fingers. His other hand started running up and down her thighs, making her legs quiver like jelly, as she heard a belt undo, a zip come down, and then clunk of pants hitting the floor. She knew what was coming next and some sort of thought began to try and intrude, but Eric's fingers kept up their magic and all Simone could do was lie there and whimper. "Are you on the pill?" he asked, and the thought rose to full wakefulness, competing with the fog and soft, warm pleasure in her head. "Yes," she replied, thinking back to what Tori had told her. She knew Tori had changed her, had made her this, but as Eric's fingers moved back up to trace the warmth between her legs once again she couldn't find it in her to care. A moment later Eric's hand, wet with her juices, gripped her hip and the other hand between her legs moved away. She moaned again, writhing a little at the absence of his touch, feeling her breasts rub against the blankets. She pushed herself up, turning to look behind her to see Eric holding his penis in one hand and looking down at her in naked admiration. Her eyes fixed on his cock, it was larger than the hand that held it, but she didn't know just how big. She thought about how good his fingers had felt inside her, but knew that there was room for more. She wasn't a virgin, she knew, and she shifted her hips a little and spread her legs wider to encourage him. "Beg for it," he told her softly, rubbing just the head of his cock against her lips. The feeling, the anticipation - she moaned, biting her lip to keep it from becoming a scream. "Beg," he said again, and she tried to rally herself to ask, but the hand at her hip snuck up to grasp one of her breasts, which hung heavy from her chest just above the mattress. That was too much and she fell forward again with a whimper. She wanted to beg, but she couldn't make words form. "Come on," he encouraged her, running his length up and down her slit as he grasped her hips with both hands. "P," she managed, before another moan forced its way out instead. "One little word," he continued maddeningly. "Hrngrgh," Simone whimpered, pushing back against him. "Just say it," he taunted, running one hand over her ass and back to her hip. She took a deep breath, all the passion, all the need building up in her and, with a flick of her long hair Simone looked back over her shoulder and into her lover's eyes. "Fuck me." She had intended it to come out strong, a demand, but instead it came out as a prayer, a breathy appeal for him to take her. Then, with one deep push, he was inside her and Simone's world exploded. She could only appreciate fragments after that, the sound of her moaning and his grunting. The scrape of her nipples on fabric, heat, blessed friction, sweat and perfume and musk. Pleasure, in and out, giving and receiving. At some point she ended up on top of him, her own tits in her hands as she rode him, her thighs against his, heaving out gasps and feeling him pulling her down harder and harder. She remembered falling forward, overcome at one point, only to have Eric flip her over seemingly with ease and rain kisses across her breasts, sucking and nuzzling, until he was a part of her again, in and out. Eventually they collapsed, limbs and sheets and bodies intertwined, and as sleep finally reached up to claim her Simone heard Tori's words in her head one last time - 'you will continue to enjoy yourself' and as she looked across at Eric she wondered if it would be with him, or someone else, and she found she was excited to learn.