This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.

All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Many thanks to Max for the fine editing work.

*

Caitlyn wasn't anything like I'd expected.

After years of threatening to retire on me, Alfie finally did. To make matters worse, he and his wife moved to Florida. I desperately needed someone to work alongside me in my woodshop.

I run a commercial wood carving business, a specialized niche. For many years like any other small business, I was either swamped or wondering if I should find a new line of work. Over the last few years, however, I've managed to steady the workload and have forced myself to learn how to turn down some projects too. It's a stable two man operation.

I didn't think replacing Alfie was going to be so difficult.

I tried a couple of young guys. One guy, Matt, was great, but after several weeks he decided to start his own contracting business. Another guy was just plain unreliable. His workmanship was good, but his attitude wasn't. When it's just the two of you working alongside of each other, you've got to get along. I had to let him go.

Another guy had a serious drinking problem. Alcohol and a table saw don't mix. Gone, the next day.

Caitlyn was the daughter of a friend of a friend's brother. She was an art school graduate, still living at home, unable to find serious work.

I'd never thought of going the art school route. I needed woodworking skills not artistic skills. I needed someone who could cut wood, plane it, use a router, set-up a jig and do lots and lots of painting. The artistic element was usually conceived by someone else. My shop requires technical skills mainly. Artistic skills are a secondary consideration.

I asked my friend to have her email me.

She was twenty eight currently working part time in a clothing store. Her hobbies included art, sculpture, and music recording. She didn't list any skills. Her experience was working in retail.

She included several photos of her sculpture. Three were in metal, four in wood and one was in what appeared to be wood, metal, glass and plastic. The stuff was okay, not my cup of tea but what I saw was a fine eye to detail and clearly the ability to work with her hands.

'Come on by for a visit,' I emailed back.

She was five four, stout, bum too big. Nose ring, short black hair, black raccoon-like eye make-up surrounding green eyes, dark lipstick, little leather neck collar with a Christian cross pendent, funny silver jewelry and when she reached out to shake my hand I could see there were multi-colored tattoos running up her wrist.

Great a Goth chick. And I thought that stuff was out of fashion. And at twenty eight?

"Come on in," I said. She stepped into the shop from the January snow outside. She wore a short black leather jacket, black jeans, I think they're called Doc Marten's boots and had a burlap handbag or backpack or something. I watched as she put it down on a pile of lumber.

"It's hemp," she said.

Oh brother.

"So this is it," I said waving my hand through the air, "this is the shop."

She looked around for a moment and then said, "What exactly do you do?"

"Commercial wood carving, signs, railings, balusters, odd bits, some furniture restoration, always in wood."

She picked up one of the pieces I was currently working on. It was a 20" x 30" x 1-1/2" thick piece of laminated maple with the outline of the 9th hole on one side and the Whistling Swans logo on the other. It still needed sanding, painting and finishing.

"This is what you do?" she asked with an incredulous look in her face.

"Yeah."

"You can make money doing this?"

"Yeah. If you do it right."

"So how much do you get for one of these?"

"I don't know, but it's not finished. It still has to be sanded, stabilized, painted and polyurethaned and then hung from a bracket which still has to be made and installed."

"But how much do you get for one of these?"

"I don't know exactly, it's part of a job that I bid on." I took the piece from her and continued, "This sign here, once it's painted and polyed twice is probably a day's work. I set up a jig for the logo on the back, the hole itself has to be scaled, carved, lettering carved, sanded, painted. You do them all at the same time, but there's twenty seven frikkin' holes. That alone is more than a month's work. Plus I've got the front entrance sign. I've got the tee-off markers, each one is carved. There's two hundred of those. The 'carts' signs, they've ordered fifty, but I'm making seventy five, I know they're going to want more. There's twenty nine miscellaneous signs, 'parking', 'washrooms', 'to 10th tee' that sort of stuff and twenty two banisters that need to be carved front and back for the patio, but that's easy 'cause it's a jig."

"Wow and you do all that by yourself?" She said as she continued to look around the shop.

"No I can't. That's my point. I need help."

"How much is the whole job worth?"

Odd line of inquiry, but fair enough, I figured she was trying to establish if I was legit.

"The original contract was for a hundred and nineteen grand. But I've negotiated an extra for fifty two grand. Originally I had a leisurely six months to do the work."

"An extra?"

"A month and a half into it, they changed the fucking logo. I always wondered why 'Whistling Swans' would only have one swan. They made that decision a month before, but no one bothered to tell me. I had to throw away a month and a half's work."

She picked up the 9th hole piece again and studied the logo on the reverse. It was two swans facing each other with their necks slightly entwined. Their wings open at their backs, all boarded by a rope pattern. "I guess it's supposed to be a W," I said.

She shook her head and put the piece down. "So it was their mistake, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is the opening date for the golf course doesn't change."

"I don't know how to work half this stuff," she said looking around the shop. "In fact I don't know how to work any of this stuff."

"All I need is someone with a good work ethic and a good pair of hands. Give me your hands," I said holding out my palms. She put her hands into mine. "Squeeze hard," I said. She did. She had strong hands for a small woman. I could see she bit her fingernails. They were chipped and painted black. Her hands were warm. She smiled as I examined her hands. "I'll teach you everything else."

"How much would I get paid?"

"Twenty bucks an hour to start, then I can assess your productivity and pay you accordingly." I said. "Thirty bucks beyond forty hours per week. I have to do all the deductions, it's a real business."

She looked at me a bit shocked. "Are you offering me the job?"

"Yeah, when can you start?"

"I don't know. I'd have to quit my part time job. When do you want me to start?"

"How about right now?"

"Okay," she said, "I've got the rest of the day free. Let's go."

I set her up with a shop robe; I had to use a pair of scissors to cut the sleeves shorter. I handed her all the safety stuff. "Get yourself some steel toed boots," I said, and then added, "I'm sorry you'll have to take those rings off your fingers, it's a safety thing."

She seemed intelligent and eager to learn.

Later we stopped for lunch. She hadn't brought any. From my stash of canned chili and soups in the little corner kitchenette I managed to scrounge up lunch for the both of us. Soup and bag o'salad cole slaw with Three Cheese Ranch dressing. She didn't want any toast.

"Doug, tell me," she asked as we ate, "do you live next door?"

"Yeah."

"What does your wife do?"

"I'm not married."

"So you live in that big house by yourself?"

"It's not that big. It's only three bedrooms."

"How big is the property?"

"Five and a half acres, why?"

"It just seems a lot of house for one person."

"I bought the house because of this shop. I used to pay rent on an apartment and rent for some shop space. It was a no-brainer to buy this place. Now my commute is sixty seconds."

Caitlyn just bobbed her head up and down, staring off into space while holding her spoon.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Thirty six, why?"

"Just wondering."

Fair enough.

That afternoon I showed Caitlyn how the jig set up worked. A frame was bolted down to the piece of wood. Then a color coded rigid PVC sheet is slid into the frame at a predetermined height. The cut PVC serves as a template for a rotary carving tool, either a plunge router or a fixed Dremel-style power carver. Depending on the carving, with three or more templates, ninety or ninety-five percent or so of the wood is removed for the bas-relief carving. A little bit of hand gouging and chiseling is all that's left to do.

She understood right away. The only question that she asked was, "Why don't you use all one color template to all the pieces, then switch to the next template and do all the pieces again."

"Ah," I said, "the time is in bolting the frame to the piece. Plus, that has to be absolutely spot on. The frame location can't change."

It took her a few days to disassociate herself from her part-time job, but soon enough she became full time. She would be at the shop promptly at eight a.m. every morning even though her commute was forty five minutes. She wouldn't leave until the particular little production run was done that afternoon. Sometimes we would work until after seven. When I would teach her how to do something, I only had to show her once. Her handwork, especially in painting was fantastic. She worked quickly and diligently. She was always cheerful and professional.

I couldn't be happier.

I made sure to encourage her and let her know that she was doing a great job. Sometimes I'd offer a little advice on her technique, usually by suggesting a different tool for a given application. I made sure to end every day by saying, 'Thank you, drive carefully and I'll see you in the morning.'

The reality of the workshop is that there's not much time for conversation. You have to wear hearing protection for a good part of the day. Every saw, every router, pretty well everything is connected to a dust collection system. I'm a stickler for safety. You have to be. The only time we would actually talk to each other was when we would sit down to have something to eat or drink or when we would crowd into my little office where there's a drafting table, a laptop and old drawings and files galore. Those conversations were all centered on work.

After several weeks the Goth look was slowly toned down and I guess my own prejudices too. I came to the realization that she was actually pretty cute. Sexy too. Of course I couldn't say anything like that to her. In the mornings when I'd wake up my first thought would be of Caitlyn. My whole morning routine was fueled by the anticipation of her arrival. In the evenings when I sat eating alone my mind would continue to drift back to her.

The paint room is at one end of the shop. It has a large window to the main shop and because the dust collector isn't hooked in, there's a radio. Caitlyn would dance to herself while painting. She would dance. Freeze. Her steady hand would move to paint whatever was she was doing. Then she would resume dancing again. She was totally oblivious to her dancing movements, yet fully concentrated on the painting. She was a joy to watch.

*

One evening, freezing rain started coming down just as we were finishing up. While we were doing the usual fifteen minutes of shop clean-up before locking up she seemed very apprehensive about the weather. I didn't blame her, the road would probably be treacherous. I turned to her and asked, "Why don't you just sleep here tonight? I have a spare bedroom."

I guess I caught her by surprise, she paused for a moment, looked outside again and said, "Okay thanks." She then turned to me, pointed her finger to my face and said, "Here's something you've got to understand though, when we walk out this door, you're not my boss anymore."

That one caught me by surprise. "Okay," I said, "fair enough."

"And no shop talk," she added.

"Fine."

Caitlyn took a side track through the freezing rain to pick up a zippered bag from her little black Yaris before heading to the house. "Welcome to my humble abode," I said as she stepped inside.

"Thanks."

She saw me looking at the bag she was carrying. Did she pack an overnight bag anticipating that she would stay the night? She must have read my thoughts.

"It's an overnight bag. I always pack one in the car. Don't you?"

I don't, but it's not a bad idea. I whisked her into the living room after she removed her work boots and coat. She looked around the place, but made no comment.

"Caitlyn listen. I normally have a shower as soon as I get home. I've got to get all of this sawdust off me. I only have the one shower unit. If you want a shower too, go ahead, it's upstairs. There are clean towels in the cupboard. You'll find them. I can get started on something for dinner."

She smiled at me and said, "Show me the kitchen, let's see what you've got. I'll get started on dinner. You take your shower first."

"What? You don't trust my cooking?"

"Frankly, no," was her reply.

Not a bad judgment call. I showed her the kitchen and the pantry and where all the pots and pans were. She found the pork tenderloin I'd thawed out for dinner. She poked around a little then said, "Go have your shower."

I came back downstairs after my shower, dressed, as usual in sweatpants and a tee-shirt. "What can I do?" I asked. I didn't know what she was cooking. "Make sure this doesn't burn," she said pointing to a large pot with pork cubes and all kinds of cut up vegetables sizzling away. "In about five minutes add half of this," she handed me a tetra-pack of vegetable stock, "give it a good stir, turn the heat down and put the lid on. In the meantime peel some potatoes."

Yes ma'am. She was not at all like in the shop. I did as I was told.

She came back down a few minutes later wearing grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt. I'd never seen her tattoo before. Her right arm was completely covered in a multi-colored something from her wrist right up past her short sleeve. In the shop we always wore a shop coat, plus whatever she wore underneath had always been long sleeve. It's kind of cool in the shop that time of year. In addition, there was something not right about the nipples on her small boobs.

"What are you staring at?" she asked accusingly.

"I...ah..I've never seen your tattoo before," I managed to stammer out.

"You weren't looking at my tats, you were staring at my tits."

I knew I was blushing. "I...I'm sorry," I croaked out, "it's just..."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at me with her mouth open.

"There's something funny about your nipples," I managed to get out and wished that I hadn't finished my sentence.

She pulled her top off. I froze in shock. My employee was half naked standing in front of me.

"They're called nipple rings."

Sure enough, she had nipple rings. Not only that but the tattoo went right up her arm onto her shoulder and curled under her right boob. As she slowly turned her body, I could see that the tattoo also covered her right shoulder blade. And her belly button was pierced.

"Do you like it?"

I didn't know what to say. I hate tattoos and piercings on women. On men too. I just hate them period.

"You don't like it, do ya?"

"No, sorry." I gulped.

"Well that's too bad, it's my body and I like it." She put her shirt back on.

I smiled at her and threw my palms in the air. Whatever cranks you lady.

She came into the kitchen and stirred the pot. She found some herbs that I'd forgotten I actually had and added them to the pot. Herbes de Provence. The whole thing smelled pretty good. I was washing the potatoes in the sink.

The power went out.

"Fuck" "Shit." We said together in the pitch black.

Not surprising in an ice storm. "I'll bet a line is down," I said. It had just gone dark outside.

"Everything is out," I said to her. "We can flush the toilet once, but it won't fill up again. There's a second toilet on this floor. Turn the stove off." She did. "We've got no heat," I added.

"Do you have a generator?"

"No. A fireplace but no firewood."

"No firewood. What's the point of a fireplace if you don't have firewood?"

"Caitlyn, we've got a shop full of wood."

"Oh yeah," she suddenly realized.

So that's what we did. We put our coats and boots on, grabbed a couple of flashlights and went out to the shop. We filled two small tarps with scrap cuts from the large pile and hauled them back to the house. We were like two Santa Clauses with giant bags full of toys on our backs sliding on the ice.

I lit the fire and we settled in with blankets on the couch across from the fire. Dinner was a big bag of potato chips, some cheese and two bottles of Chianti Classico.

The only light was from the fire which was blazing nicely.

"Doug, how come you never married? I mean you're a really nice guy. And good looking too. Steady income, right? I'm sure that women are tripping over themselves to get to you."

"Well, you'd be wrong. The reality is that I'm married to my job."

"Come on."

"I just don't get to go out. I mean I've been on plenty of dates and such, but I just don't have the opportunity to meet single women."

"Go to a bar," she said.

"I tried that bar scene once. I just don't do bars."

"Why not?"

"Because I live in the country. I've got to drive. If I get caught drinking and driving I'm fucked. Totally, totally fucked. Without wheels I can't work, I can't get groceries, I can't get wood supplies."

"Hmm," she seemed to understand.

"And how does that work in a singles bar, 'another glass of wine for this young lady and I'll have a Shirley Temple please'?"

She giggled, "You have a point."

"I was engaged once." I offered.

"What happened, did she quit or did you?"

"She did. Sally. Really cute and very nice. I fell for her right away. I met her the same week that I put an offer on this place. The sale didn't go through for three months and at that point I still had six and a half months on my apartment lease. The bottom line was that she liked the Doug Jenner that lived in the city, but not the one that lived and worked in the country. Being the country squire's wife was not something that appealed to her."

"That's a bit shallow isn't it?"

"That's the same conclusion I came to. She wanted me to sell this place. I'd just bought it. She wasn't even willing to give it a try."

"That's awful."

"Yeah it was. It was literally 'it's either me or the country shop and house. Take your pick.'"

We sat in silence for a while.

"What about you," I asked, "why aren't you married?"

"You're kidding?"

"No. Why would you say that?"

"Look at me. Who the fuck wants to go out with me?" she said, then continued, "I'll tell you who. Losers, nerds and assholes."

"Come on."

"It's the body I was born with."

"What does the body have to do with it?"

She didn't answer at first, then said, "Everything. When I was younger, I'd go to the school dance. Do you think I was ever asked to dance?"

"Of course you were," I answered.

"Yeah," she laughed, "by losers, nerds and assholes."

"But you're none of those things. You're pleasant, you're a good worker." She turned her head and glared at me. "You're intelligent and you're pretty. She glared again. "Except for the face metal and the tats, but that's just me."

"I thought we weren't going to talk shop here," she said.

"We're not."

"I'm hardly pretty. I have a big ass, I don't have a waist and my friend Carly had bigger tits when she was twelve than I do now."
"You're getting all fixated on the body again."

"I'm fine with my body."

"Then why do you say things like that?"

"Like what?"

"That you're not pretty and you have a big ass and small tits."

"Because it's true!"

"You have a lovely smile and beautiful green eyes."

"And a big ass!" She brought her feet up onto the couch, curled her arms around her knees and stared into the fire, still wrapped in her blanket.

I wasn't going to win this.

She put her feet back onto the floor, reached for her wineglass, gulped down the last third of the glass, almost slammed it back on the coffee table in front, then curled her knees back up.

What low self-esteem she had of herself. I wondered if that was why she felt compelled to get herself tattooed and pierced. Did she need that 'Goth Look' to make herself different? Does looking different make you feel different? Is she that insecure?

"You're a lovely person." I said.

"Shut up."

Did I really say something that wrong? That she's pretty?

"Can I pour you some more wine?"

"Yes," she answered in a huff. I did.

"Caitlyn, I know we're not supposed to talk about this, but think of it this way, I'm telling the girl sitting next to me about my new employee." She said nothing, just stared into the fire.

"I have this new employee. She had virtually no woodworking skills when she came to my shop a few weeks ago. When she showed up, I was completely shocked to find this Goth chick standing there. Nevertheless, I was in such a bind, I hired her anyway. I really wasn't expecting too much from her."

She pulled her knees down, took a sip of wine while taking a quick sideways glance at me.

"I'm over the moon with this girl. She's an excellent employee. A great worker. Great with her hands. Very talented. She learns fast, she works quickly, and I can tell she puts a lot of pride into her work. Her workmanship is excellent. She's pleasant, intelligent, witty and funny too. I hope she stays with me for a long, long time."

She stared at me for a few moments without an expression on her face. "I have to say Doug, that I really enjoy working in the shop. For the first time in my life, someone seems to appreciate what I do. In college I'd always have criticisms 'you could have highlighted that curve a bit more', "what are you trying to say with that piece?', 'I know you can do better than a B'. In the clothing store the manageress would say 'you could have made that sale'. All my life I've never been quite good enough. And I was never good enough for my parents, either. Do you think they like my tats and metal?"

"Did you do that just to piss them off?"

"No, but it was a nice side benefit."

I said nothing.

"What I'm saying I guess," she continued, "is thank you for not being a fucking asshole. You make me feel good about myself."

"No Caitlyn, it's not about me. Everything I said is true. It's all your doing. It's your attitude, it's your skills and it's your work ethic. Plus I think you're pretty."

She smiled. "But I still have a fat ass."

"Doesn't matter it's still sexy." I wished I hadn't said that but it came out anyway.

"Oh, you think I'm sexy too." It wasn't a question.

Oh boy. Employee sexual harassment. Fuck.

"Caitlyn, I..."

"Well I think you're sexy too," she cut me off.

"I'm sorry I said that."

"Why?"

"I don't want to lose my employee because of sexual harassment."

"I'm not your employee here."

"I'm sure the courts would understand that."

"Doug, don't be a jerk. You're not sexually harassing me. 'Give me a blow job and you get to keep your job,' that would be sexual harassment."

"Ah, just a little."

"Well you're not doing that are you?"

"No. I'm not. I would never do that. And I will never do that." I said.

"It can work the other way around too."

"How so?" I asked.

"If I said, 'I'm not coming into work tomorrow unless you eat my pussy right now.'"

She was certainly not shy.

"But you're not doing that are you." I said rather than asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Good." I thought that was the end of it. We both reached for our wine glasses and took a sip.

"So will you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Eat my pussy."

I nearly dropped my wine glass.

"Not if it's sexual harassment I won't." I was relieved to have found a quick out.

She turned to me with a grin on her face.

"It won't be."

Did I just agree to eat her pussy?

"Caitlyn, how will you feel in the morning, in the shop?" I was hoping to backtrack.

She turned on the couch and wrapped her left hand around the back of my neck, leaned towards me and said, "Sexually satisfied I hope." She was grinning at me.

I felt my cock twitch.

"Caitlyn, if we do this we can't extend it into the shop."

"You're damn right we can't. There you're my boss. Here you're the country squire with the roaring fire and fancy dinner." She waved her hand over the spent chip bag.

I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Neither could she. She took my wine glass from me and set both on the coffee table.

Then she pulled her red t-shirt off again.

Her tits certainly weren't big, only a handful really. Her areola were small too, almost non-existent. But her nipples were huge. The rings were gold, probably three quarters of an inch diameter. The nipples almost filled them. The rings shimmered in the firelight.

"Do you like the rings?" she asked. Clearly she caught me staring. She flipped them with her index fingers. The nipple skin reacted to the movement of the rings.

"Yeah, they're kind of kinky actually."

She pulled on her nipple rings. The nipples followed and some of her breast flesh too. I wondered if that hurt. "I hate my tits, but I love my nipples." She twisted the rings a bit.

"I love your nipples too."

"Then give them a little suck." She pulled my head towards her chest.

I gave one a suck, then the other. The rings felt funny in my mouth. There was certainly a contrast between hard rings and soft nipples. She made a kind of purring sound while my tongue and lips played with her nipples.

"Do you like that?" I asked looking up to her green eyes sparkling in the firelight.

"What do you think?" She pushed my head back down to her tits.

As I pulled my mouth away from her boobs, my t-shirt was pulled off me, over my head. Her hands were all over my chest, shoulders and arms. She pushed the side of her face against my chest, then pushed me back onto the couch and climbed on top of me. She looked down at me from above, straddling my waist. The light from the fire only illuminated half of her face. The tattoo on her right side danced in the firelight.

What an exotic creature she was. My cock certainly thought that too. It was rock hard.

She arched herself down to kiss me. Her lips were warm, soft. Her tongue darted out, pushing my teeth apart. Her tongue found mine. I pushed back into her mouth. Her breath was warm. I ran my hands down her arms. The tattooed side was warmer from the fire. Her nose ring bounced off my nose as we kissed.

Her hand reached down under my waist band. "Nice," she whispered as she found my stiff cock.

"Doug, before we go any farther I want you to know I don't have any funny diseases and I'm on the pill. How about you?"

"I'm not on the pill," I said.

"Don't be an ass."

"No funny diseases," I said grinning.

"Good." She got off me and pulled my sweatpants off. My cock sprung up. "Very nice," she said as she grabbed a hold of it. She lowered her mouth to my cock.

My brain swirled in sync with her tongue on my cock. Lightly she stroked my shaft as she licked the underside, then she pushed my cock way down her throat and held it momentarily before pulling back up in a pool of saliva.

Where did she learn how to do that?

Caitlyn let go and my cock flopped onto my belly. She stood up and pulled her sweat pants off. I could see her pussy hairs in the firelight. There wasn't a lot and they weren't black. My hand reached out to her puss as she raised her left leg and put her foot on the couch next to my hip.

Metal! "Whaa?"

"Yeah," she said as her hands slid down to her crotch, I could barely make out in the light that she was pulling two rings, one on each inner labia, "I've got rings in my lips."

My finger slipped right into her. It was warm, tight and very wet. She let go of the rings, I could feel them against my knuckle. I pulled my finger out and played with the curls of her soft pussy hairs, her soft pussy lips and the contrasting hard rings. I gently twisted everything I could touch with my fingertips. I could see a smile on the side of her face that was illuminated by the firelight as she looked down on me from above.

I slid down the couch to make room for her knees. She straddled me and lowered her pussy to my awaiting mouth, my hands cupped her ass. All at once I smelled her pussy, tasted it and felt the softness of her lips and the distinction made by the two rings. Sensory overload. Bliss. Divine female nectar made my brain swirl.

My lips and tongue went everywhere. I couldn't get enough. After a few content moments I became aware of her fingers against my tongue and lips. With the index and thumb of each hand she pulled on the rings, splaying her puss wide open and exposing her clit.

"Lick gently," she whispered. I did. Right on her clit. "That's it," she cooed. Her hips rocked slightly to meet my tongue. I slipped my index finger into her hole, "Yeah," she whispered as she exhaled. Her rocking motion increased. Each exhale of her breath became throaty. I slipped a second finger into her. I could feel the tightness of her muscles as I fucked her with my fingers. She continued to pull on her rings. The tempo of her husky breathing increased. Her thighs were trembling. I gently sucked her little clit while flicking it with the tip of my tongue.

I splayed my two fingers into a vee as I slowly pulled out, nearly to the end of my fingers. A bridge of moisture glistened between my knuckles in the firelight. I licked it off. Pure Caitlyn heroin. Right then and there, I became an addict. I plunged my fingers back inside her and sucked directly onto her clit.

She let go of the rings and pulled the back of my head into herself. "Ggaauuughh Fuuuck meeee!" Pussy muscles clamped onto my fingers and bulged to my knuckles, loosened, then clamped again. Her hips jerked. Pubic hair tickled my nostrils as I attempted to take in air. Guttural sounds emanated from above me. Muscles clamped again and again before she released the pressure from the back of my head.

I gasped for air. Looking up I saw half of her face illuminated in the firelight, contorted, looking down on me. Her belly button piercing glistened in the light. Something dripped on my forehead.

I pulled my fingers out. My hand was soaked. I licked my fingers and hand.

She wiggled her way down the couch straddling me. She reached between her legs and picked up my cock. She angled it towards her pussy as she wiggled her bum, as I continued to lick my fingers. I could feel my cock head being enveloped in warmth. And then I was in. All the way.

"Ahhhh," she gasped, "Fuuckk...oh yeah," she said to herself, I think.

Her pussy was tight. Wet too. She rocked her hips gently as she rubbed her lower belly with her fingers.

"Ohhh...so good," she gurgled, "so full." Her head fell back, her mouth was open.

"Fuck me Doug." I could feel her pussy muscles clamping down on my cock.

I rolled my hip upward forcing myself in as far as I could go.

"Oh yeah," her voice was low, breathy.

Her fingers found her nipples, she tugged at her rings. She rocked her hips to match mine.

I could feel wetness and her pussy rings at the base of my cock as we slowly fucked. My breathing became heavier.

Hers too.

She leaned forward, looking down at me in the half light. She placed her left arm on the back of the couch and her right foot on the ground next to the sofa. Then slowly withdrew my cock almost all the way out and then slammed her pussy back down. The fingers of her right hand found her clit and she rubbed furiously while thumping down on me again and again. I could hear the sticky collisions over the crackling fire.

I fucked her right back, matching her furious tempo. Her lips were withdrawn baring her teeth. Hot breath flushed my face. Green eyes that sparkled in the firelight were locked onto mine.

My fingers found her nipple rings. I held them in position so that her nipples and tits were pulled by the action of her hips crashing into me.

I'm sure my face was contorted. I struggled for air.

"Fuck!" she screamed, "Yeah!"

I could feel her fingernails working madly at her clit.

Her right leg started to shake. Her whole body trembled.

I kept jamming into her with all my strength. My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew I was going to cum soon.

She pounded down onto my cock and ground down. "Grraauuugh!" she gasped through open mouth. I could feel her muscles clamp down on my cock as her body jerked. She clamped again, "Auughh," she groaned through her exhale. Her forehead glistened in the firelight. Her fingers still worked away as her body jerked again.

My teeth were clenched as I tried to hold off cumming. I knew it was a losing battle. My chest was heaving in need of air.

She slumped forward, "Auugh" she heaved a sigh into my left ear. Her hot breath whistled in my ear. I felt another contraction. Then another. Then one last one.

We were motionless save for our breathing. I could feel her rapidly beating heart racing with mine.

"I'm going to cum," I whispered, barely hanging on.

Only her breath in my ear responded.

I did. Spurt after spurt plunged deep inside her pussy. My hips jerked involuntarily as I came. My voice was reduced to a gurgle of air.

"Ohhhhh!" she gasped pushing down harder as I came, but staying motionless.

"Fuck!" together we huffed.

We lay there hot and sweaty searching for air for a few moments. I could feel my cock, slip inside her as it started to shrink.

"I could feel you," she said as she drew a breath, "coming inside me."

I nodded a hot breath at her.

"I could feel your cock swell." She whispered.

"I'm sure I'm still oozing cum into you," I whispered back, still searching for air.

My cock slipped some more from shrinkage. It was wet and hot in her pussy.

She pushed herself up. Her right hand was on her crotch as my dick slipped out from her and flopped on my pelvis. The fingers on her right hand slipped into her mouth then quickly went back to her pussy.

I was shocked at what I had just seen her do. She did it again. Then again. Before I could react two fingers from her pussy were pushed into my mouth.

"Taste," she said.

I did. I was in even more shock at the unexpected intrusion. It was salty. It tasted of sex.

"I love the taste of Doug Jenner," she cooed as she dug her fingers deep inside her. After taking one more thorough lick of her fingers she squatted next to me and slipped my glistening cock into her mouth. She licked it clean and sucked on my peehole to make sure it's all out.

Wow! In my wildest dreams, I'd never imagined a girl licking the cum out of her own pussy. Could it be that Caitlyn really enjoyed the taste of cum that much? And what about that 'taste of Doug Jenner' bit? Was she serious?

"Cuddle me," she said as she lay back on me, which her weight shifted to the back of the couch. She slipped the blanket over us and nuzzled her face into me neck.

"That was nice, thank you Doug," she whispered.

"Thank you Cate." I whispered back as I brushed her back and shoulders under the blanket.

*

We woke up on the couch the next morning, cold and hungry. The freezing rain had stopped but the power was still out. We simply peed, didn't flush, dressed ourselves and jumped into my pick-up truck in search of food and heat.

On the way to Jimmy's Diner we passed a crew of linemen fixing power lines.

By the time we got back, the power was on.

We opened up the shop and went to work as if nothing had happened.

After work that night I thought about Caitlyn as I sat alone eating pork stew and potatoes from the evening before. The food was excellent. We should have been eating together. I wondered if she was pissed off with me. Did I take advantage of my employee? Was I going to lose her?

But what a fuck machine Caitlin was. I had no idea.

*

Several days passed by. Nothing was said about the night she slept over. Not a hint, not a wink, not a smile. It was as if it never happened.

The phone rang in the shop one afternoon. After the call I went and found Caitlyn. She was in the paint room, dancing and painting.

"They want us to do more work for Whistling Swans."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've not committed yet. I need to talk to you first."

"Why?"

"Because it's a bunch of work with a finite time-line."

"What is it?"

"Corporate wants the stupid logo on the top rail of their benches."

"We're not making benches."

"I know that. It's the bench manufacturer that called me. He's a friend of mine. That's not true. He's a colleague. We've worked together before. He's actually a bit of a prick."

"So what's the job?"

Sixty one benches. Six grand. I'll split it with you. It's the same jig that we have for the tee-off blocks. We just have to carve, sand and paint. We don't even have to poly. They'll deliver the top rails to us and then they'll pick up when they're all done."

"Sounds great!"

"Yeah, but. They want it next week! He said Wednesday, Thursday the latest. Either way, it's going to be an hour a piece. That's thirty hours each."

"So?"

"We still have to maintain production on all the rest of the stuff. You know that's all very tight."

"So?"

"So...do you want to take on the work? It means we're working the weekend. Plus late nights. This is no joke."

"I realize that. You said you'd split it with me?"

"Yeah, three grand each."

"For thirty hours work?"

"If it's an hour a piece."

"That's a hundred bucks an hour."

"No. It's a hundred bucks a piece." I corrected her.

"I'll have to stay here," she said.

"I know."

"You know what will happen?" she said. She smirked and watched me intently.

"Yeah, every night," I said grinning.

"I am so fucking in on this!" she growled, grinning too.

"Great!"

I called him back and said we'll do it.

"How come it's not sixty one hundred for sixty one benches?" she asked.

"I told you he's a prick."

*

The next morning Caitlyn called to say she'd be an hour late. That was a first. When she arrived she had me help her unload her little black Yaris. She'd been shopping. We stuffed all kinds of things into the fridge and cupboards. She brought a suitcase of clothes.

It was as if she were moving in. I guessed she was in a way.

The bench top rails were delivered that day.

"How come we're not making the sixty one benches?" she asked.

"Because we're not set up for it. We can certainly make one, in fact we can make sixty one but not at the same cost that numb-nuts can make them at."

"So why isn't he doing the carving himself?"

"Because he's not set up for it. He can certainly do one, or two or five. But not sixty one. Not at a reasonable cost. He's a wood shaper, we're wood carvers, there's a difference."

"What if we had ten thousand to do? There's got to be an easier way."

"There is. It's called a CNC machine."

"What's that?"

"Computer numerical control, or something like that. It's a machine that's attached to a computer. Fasten down the block hit start."

"Why don't we do that?"

"Well for starters the machines are sixty thousand plus. Then the amount of programming that is required takes you forever. For a straight cut it's not bad, but in 3D bas-relief it's a lot more complex. And in the final analysis, it's not that fast. Perfect copies though, every time."
"But still."

"It's a different business, and if we have to I'll sub-contract that type of work out to any number of shops that can do it. So if we had say, a thousand tee off blocks to do. Yeah, we'll sub it out. Even if I just make two bucks a block, it's just a phone call away."

"So if we're getting a hundred bucks a piece for the bench carvings, how much is he getting for them?"

"I don't care," I said, "we're good with the hundred bucks right?"

"I guess."

"You can't over think this."

"What if someone came in and handed you a piece and said, make me a copy. How would we do it?"

"Ah, it's called a pantograph. We have one right over there," I pointed to the rarely used corner of the shop. "It's pretty slow though, but for one or two copies, it's perfect."

Caitlyn and I agreed that it would be mutually beneficial if she broke off the carving work an hour earlier than me so that she could get started on dinner. We were still going to split the six grand.

I stayed in the shop for an extra hour. We had made good progress in that first day. As usual I did a fifteen minute clean-up before locking up.

As soon as I stepped in through the door I could smell roast chicken. Caitlyn was dressed in black sweatpants and a tie-dyed t-shirt. Immediately I saw the nipple and nipple ring imprints.

My cock stirred.

She was wearing fuzzy pink slippers. Somehow fuzzy pink didn't seem to go with the whole Goth persona.

"Smells great Caitlyn! Do I have time for a shower?"

She stepped up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, kissed me on the lips and said, "Welcome home Doug." She broke the embrace and ran off giggling. "Yes you have time for a shower," she said from the kitchen and giggled again.

As I showered I thought about how Caitlyn looked when she first came to the interview and how she has slowly been changing to the point where she's wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt and pink slippers. She no longer wore all that black make-up, the funny jewelry was gone, even the black fingernail polish, gone. Her hair was still black and the nose ring still in place. I wondered if she was shedding all that consciously or through benign neglect.

"I don't know about you but I'm beat," I said as I came down the stairs dressed in t-shirt and sweats, "hungry and beat."

"Well dinner's almost ready," I heard from the kitchen, then her head popped around the corner, "I hope you're not too tired," she said smirking.

I know I was grinning.

It's as if there were two Caitlyns. She would never say anything like that in the shop. For some strange reason the image of the Whistling Swans logo came to mind. Two birds entwined at their necks, mirror imaging each other. Was that Caitlyn? Two halves to make the whole?

Was I like that too?

I certainly liked the shop half Caitlyn.

And I was certainly looking forward to dinner, then fucking the hell out of the house half Caitlyn.

At that moment I realized I was onto something really good. I had to be careful not to blow it.

Dinner was roast chicken, roasted potatoes with rosemary, roasted parsnips and Brussels sprouts all smothered in a tangy gravy that had just a hint of tomato to it. She also made a side salad with what she described as homemade Russian dressing.

The chicken was done to perfection. The whole dinner was.

"What do you do, in your idle time?" I asked as we ate. "When it's just Caitlyn Progue?"

"I masturbate incessantly. What do you do?"

The house half Caitlyn never let up.

"I watch TV."

"Porno?"

"No. News mainly."

We regarded each other silently for a moment and then each took a bite.

"You don't want to know about me."

I know I stared at her for a moment. What a daft thing to say. I sliced a piece of chicken.

"Of course I want to know about you. I want to know everything about you."

Her face turned to me in a most peculiar way. She reflected for a long time before picking at her salad.

"You won't believe me if I tell you," she said finally.

"Tell me what?"

"What I do in my spare time."

Now my curiosity was definitely piqued. I scratched my chin. "Let me guess."

She simply smiled at me as she took a mouthful.

"Embroidery?"

"Yeah, that's it." She chuckled with food in her mouth.

"Sumo wrestling? Chinchilla farming? Competitive tiddly-winks? Oh, I know what it is, you have a yeast collection."

She grinned, nodded her head and swallowed.

"Come on, what is it?" I pressed.

"I reinterpret early Christian music to synthesizer, sometimes it involves transcribing from old tablature."

My expression must have said it all.

"Mainly medieval and renaissance."

I know I was staring at her in disbelief.

"de Machaut, Tallis, Hucbald, Ockeghem. One of my favorites is Caterina Assandra. She was a Benedictine nun, Italian, she wrote a number motets and then, of course, there is Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, but his works are a bit more challenging. He really did define early Catholic music."

"On synthesizer?" I asked trying to stay in the conversation.

"Yes a microKorg coupled to a MIDI keyboard, but I just picked up a used Triton on eBay. It's all hooked into a dedicated laptop that runs Cubasis. Most of the work is done in the laptop."

What?

I must have looked stunned.

"Do you remember the movie A Clockwork Orange?"

"Yes, Stanley Kubrick with what's his name?"

"Malcolm McDowell."

"That's right. He went around beating people up and raping women, all dressed in white. Funny eye make-up thing. Beethoven's Ninth. Yeah, I remember it."

"Do you remember the theme music?"

"Yeah, I remember it. Harrowing music."

"It's Henry Purcell from Funeral for Queen Mary as reinterpreted by Wendy Carlos, back then Walter Carlos. It was done on an early synth. Purcell wrote it in sixteen ninety five."

There was more to this girl than meets the eye.

"Why early Christian?" I asked.

"Hah! Very simple. A couple of reasons I guess. Number one my piano skills aren't that great. Two, it's a period from which very simple yet powerful melodies survive, polyphonic voices are established together with very basic point, counter-point and let's see what else... there aren't any copyright issues and I guess, it's because the music really plays on the heart."

"On the heart?" What was this girl talking about?

"Yes, classic Greek and Roman artists imitated and beautified what they saw in nature, but it really was just an extension of architecture. Their whole society was based on pleasure, power and riches. But humanity was ignored, class-prejudice was universal, the rights of the individual virtually non-existent. Social position and wealth was everything. So when the Christian message came along, a message of humanity, of comfort to the individual soul, it fell like dew upon the spirits of the oppressed, and like fire upon the heads of the oppressors. It gave hope and comfort into the hearts of those who suffered under tyranny, and awakened dormant yearnings for love and a truth that was true and noble."

Who the hell was sitting across from me?

"Art was transformed accordingly. It tried to realize the Divine. Painting, with its representations of the Christ, tried to show inner revelations. The painter began to strive to express the emotions, the soul, in the faces of his subjects, and beauty of form was to become a secondary consideration. The longing for a future existence, for expression of the inner life of man, was to find its most sublime utterance in music, for that alone could express the craving for the unknown. The greatest religious musical works of later years are the outgrowth of the earliest Christian period, and the influence of Christianity is in large part responsible for the emancipation of music from the domination of the other arts." She smiled at me as she held her fork in the air.

I was stunned. "Did they teach you that in art college?"

"No, there I just masturbated incessantly." She grinned at me, still holding her fork in the air.

Two swans.

"Are you going to want dessert? I have some ice cream," I said.

"No, just sex. How about you?"

"I'm good with sex."

We cleaned up after dinner and went straight upstairs. I went to the washroom, she went into my bedroom.

She was naked, spread eagled on the bed. She lifted her head and grinned at me. I pulled my tee-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. My sweat pants followed. My cock sprung out ready to go. Her grin widened.

"So, Miss Progue," I said smiling, "what would you like to do?"

"Lick my cunt to make sure it's all wet and stick your cock deep down my throat and I'll make sure it's good and wet. Then fuck...me...silly."

It sounded like a plan. I got into the bed and lowered my hard cock to her mouth as my mouth founds its way to her pussy. The aroma of her pussy pulled me in. My lips, tongue and nose collided with her wetness. Rings bounced off my nose as I inhaled and tasted her delight. I couldn't get enough. Only then did I become aware that my cock was deep down her throat. I had to pull myself off of her pussy to see my balls resting on the side of her nose. There was a gurgling noise and she pushed my hips up. I could hear her gasp for air as I saw my cock emerge completely covered in saliva. It had little bubbles on it and a string of spit reached down to her lower lip.

"Fuck me!" she gasped.

I rotated on the bed. Her legs were wide open. I pulled a pillow out from under the sheet. She lifted her hips off the bed and I slid the pillow in under her bum. I couldn't help but take one more good lick before I climbed on top of her.

She guided my wet cock into her sopping pussy. I slid right in.

"Auuugghh," she gasped. "Fuck!" she panted, "That feels so good." She took a deep breath, "Ohhh."

With my weight on my forearms I pounded my cock into her open pussy with fury. Deep full strokes were met with squeals of delight as she fucked back. I could feel the back of her hands hitting my chest as she tugged at her nipple rings.

The temperature in the room increased rapidly together with the sound of our grunts.

I ground my pubic bone into her clit angling my cock side to side within her pussy, partially withdrew and then slammed back down, over and over and over.

Clearly she loved a good hard fuck.

I kissed her open mouth sending my tongue deep inside. She seemed to really react to the kiss. When I pulled away from the kiss I could see that Caitlyn's face was red. She was breathing hard and her face was sweaty and wet.

I jammed her with my cock while establishing a breathing rhythm. In, out, angle to side, to the other side, up, down, fastball to the cervix, slow internal rotation, grind on the clit another fastball to the cervix. All the while our eyes never left each other.

I could see she was losing her mind.

And her body. Her belly started bouncing. Her thighs shook uncontrollably. She continued to twist and pull at her nipple rings.

I kept slamming my cock into her with full force.

"Aauughh," her head jerked forward as her pussy clamped onto my cock almost forcing it out. I pushed right back in. "Auuugh," she clamped again and gasped for air, this time I held my cock deep inside her. "Auughhhah!" She let go of her nipples and pulled the back of my neck towards her, causing her head and neck to be lifted up. She jerked again gasping for air. My arms strained but I kept on fucking her. I could feel her contractions continue. Her face was red, contorted, wet. Her nose flared and her teeth were gritted together.

I kept fucking her hard. My chest was heaving. My heart was pounding. I kept on going and she kept on contracting.

"Ohh fuuuck!" she yelped, "Auuugh!" her body jerked forward, again almost popping my cock out of her. "Nauugh," she gasped as I pushed it back in through tightened pussy muscles. "Ooohhh!" she jerked again pulling herself up to my face.

I plunged my tongue into her opened mouth as her hips shuddered below me. Our faces almost slid across each other. Our breath hot.

I felt my cock swell.

"Auughh," she clamped down on my cock again and shook.

That did it.

I exploded inside her. My sphincter tightened. My hips spasmed out of control. My cock was enveloped in a warm wetness. Her continued contractions seemed to draw every spurt out of me.

I'm sure my face wasn't a pretty sight. Our mouths were open exhaling hot breath into each other's face, eyes locked on each other's.

I collapsed on to her with my full weight. Our chest heaving against each other as the last contractions rippled through Caitlyn and the final spasms rocked through me.

Our hearts were beating wildly. It seemed a million degrees in the room. We were sweating like pigs.

"Feed me," she said.

"What?"

"Put your cock down my throat right now."

I pulled my glistening and still hard cock out of her. She trapped her vagina with the fingers of her right hand. I rotated around on the bed and lowered my cock into her open mouth.

She sucked to all the way down deep throat and then with her left hand pushed my belly up and gasped for air.

Holy shit!

She did it again, savoring the cum on my shaft and sucking whatever she could from my hole. She pushed me up and away. I flipped off, my legs landing on the floor next to the bed. I was perpendicular to Caitlyn. My head on her knees.

I watched as she cleaned her pussy out as she had done before, licking her fingers clean. She dug deep inside herself to get everything she could. It was clear to me as I watched her, that was no act, she loved it.

"Wanna taste?"

"No it's okay."

She jammed a soaked finger into my mouth anyway and pulled away giggling.

What a fiend.

With Caitlyn, sex does not involve a box of tissues.

I got myself onto the bed and we both lay there trying to cool down. I kissed her cum drenched mouth. "Thank you," I whispered.

"Doug," she whispered back, "thank you, you're the best."

We stared at the ceiling for a while.

"Where did you learn to deep throat like that?" I asked.

"In high school," she replied.

"Lucky guy," I said.

"On a banana," she said.

With incredulity, I'm sure, on my face, I asked her slowly, "You used to suck off bananas in high school?"

"No, we used to tease the boys at the next lunch table. It would drive them nuts."

"I'm sure it did," I chuckled, trying to picture a table full of school girls jamming bananas down their throats.

"Then we'd pick out one of the ruder boys, point to him and say 'this one's for you' as we popped a French fry into our mouth."

"No wonder you didn't get dates."

"Ah, they were a bunch of assholes anyway."

I turned down the covers and fixed the pillows as Caitlin went to the washroom. She returned, naked, brushing her pussy hair with her fingers. She shocked me by nonchalantly asking, "Do you want me to sleep here with you or in the other room?"

I pointed my finger down to the right side of the bed. She smiled and slipped in under the sheets.

"Cuddle me," she whispered. I did. Occasionally I flipped a nipple ring.

"Do you want me to shave my pussy?" she asked.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do." I answered.

She didn't answer.

Her right arm was lying atop the cover.

"What is that a tattoo of?" I asked. Whatever it was it was very ornate and intricate. It was my first good look at it. Every other time I saw it, I guess I naturally just tried to look away.

"There's a unicorn, birds, vines, leaves, flowers."

"Hmm, I can see."

"I drew it myself."

"Did you tattoo yourself?"

"No," she chuckled half asleep, "I know a really good tattoo artist. She followed the drawing exactly." After a few moments she whispered, "Do you like it?"

I didn't answer. I didn't want to lie.

I could see her eyes were shut and she was drifting off to sleep.

I lay there trying to figure Caitlyn out. The outer girl with the Goth look and tattoos and brash attitude was all a cover for an insecure girl on the inside who never seemed to live up to everyone else's expectations. But that inner girl was brilliant. And a sex machine. Kind and sweet and generous too.

It occurred to me that she bought all the groceries. I didn't even offer to pay for half and she never asked for a contribution. That was something I would have to fix in the morning.

She was, however, shedding that outer layer slowly. I wondered if I could transformer her completely like Rex Harrison did to Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady? Pygmalion indeed. Could I turn her into just an ordinary, self-confident woman? All she needed was encouragement and the chance to succeed. That and maybe a couple of quick jolts to the psyche.

*

The next day, Saturday, we busted our asses on the bench rail work. I couldn't believe how fast she was. I did the jig cut out work and she did the final carving, quick sanding and a thick layer of background paint. I could hardly keep up with her!

I asked her to find the grocery bill. I insisted that I was going to pay for it all.

She knocked off an hour early to make dinner. The Caesar salad was marvelous. The Spaghetti Bolognese with whole button mushrooms was superb. It was just what we needed. That a bottle of Sangiovese Italian red wine.

Unfortunately sex didn't happen that night. We made the mistake of turning the TV on while cuddling and playing with her nipple rings, hoping to make it clear through to Saturday Night Live. We didn't make it. She woke me up in the middle of the night with the TV playing to itself. SNL had come and gone. We missed it.

We stumbled off to my bed and crashed. We both slept well that night.

*

By three thirty on Sunday we finished the bench rails. Carved, sanded and painted. We just needed the paint to dry and then to paint the eyes, beaks and feet. An hour's work, max. We'd done it just under forty one hours. We were ahead of schedule on the rest of the work. It was a beautiful day outside. We needed a break.

I was a little worried too, that Caitlyn would simply pack her things up and go home to her parent's place. I really didn't want her to go.

"Caitlyn," I said, "let's do something. Let's go for a walk or something."

She smiled at me, "Can we go up the mountain?"

"Absolutely, let's clean up and let's go." I looked at her safety boots. "Unless you have proper hiking boots, I suggest you wear those."

She looked down to her feet. "I'm okay with these, I guess."

It really was a nice day for March. Caitlyn changed into a pair of cut-off blue jeans. Really cut off. It was a first. I'd never seen her wear anything but black jeans, aside from the sweatpants.

Off we went. We each had light jackets on with a can of Bud stashed in a pocket. Travelers.

Up the trail we went. I pushed Caitlyn's not so big bum up as she was in front of me on some of the steeper parts. I still thought it was a sexy bum. I even groped her crotch a few times, much to her delight.

When we got about a half way up we had to sit down to catch our breath and pop open the cans of beer.

"This is great," she said, "you can see for miles."

"It is lovely, isn't it," I said.

We just sat there enjoying the view, the afternoon air and the beer.

She stood up and walked over to a half dead pine tree. "I can climb this," she said.

"No don't."

Not listening she climbed it anyway. Not a long way up, only a few branches.

"Caitlyn, don't do anything stupid."

"What?" she answered standing on a dead branch about six feet off the ground. She held on to another branch above her. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"No, I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm fine," she started to bounce up and down on the branch. "Look I'm fine." She still held on to the branch above her head as she stepped further along the branch and bounced even more. "I can see..."
Snap. "Aaugh!" It broke. She fell.

"Fuuuck!" she screamed.

"No!" I rushed forward. It was too late.

Caitlyn was hanging upside down, firmly attached, by the shoelace loop of her left boot. Her arms hung down, her fingertips were all of maybe an inch off the ground. Her right leg was bent at the knee, hanging by its own weight.

I collapsed in laughter. She reminded me of a Tarot card. The Hanging Man.

She twisted, flexed, bent up, reached, bent up again, twisted again and tried to raise herself again, all to no avail. The sad thing was that had I not been there, Caitlyn would have been in a life threatening situation. Unless she could raise herself up and unhook that boot, she was food for the vultures. I doubted that anyone could hear screams from where we were. Finally she settled herself hanging upside down.

"Doug?" Her face was all red.

"Caitlyn?"

"Can you get me down?"

I paused for a moment.

"I don't think so."

"Douuuug."

"Maybe, but it'll cost 'ya."

She paused.

"I'll suck your cock."

I laughed. "No, you already do that and you love it."

"I'll shave my cunt."

I laughed again, "No, you've already offered to do that."

What a delicious moment.

"Alright Doug, what do you want me to do?"

I couldn't help but laugh. She did look funny hanging there upside down. Completely helpless.

"Ooohh...I dunno."

"Doug!"

"Let me think!"

"Doug!"

"Give me a second."

"Anal sex. You can fuck me in the ass."

I howled with that one. "No. Your ass is mine anyway."

"What do you want?" She was growing desperate.

"Dinner. We'll go out for dinner."

"Dinner?" Her tone expressed her disbelief.

"Yes...but."

"But...what?"

"I get to buy you a new outfit for dinner."

I thought I could read suspicion on her upside down red face.

"What kind of outfit?" she asked carefully.

"A flowery dress and shoes and a purse to match."

"Noooo!" She started to contort, she tried to reach her boot lace, her arms flailed about wildly. She kicked with her free leg.

"And no face metal."

She twisted, she tried to reach for anything. Fighting, she tried to reach up.

"Pink fingernails. Light pink. Girly pink!"

"Noooo!" Her arms thrashed about. Her entire body turned a different shade of red. It was if she was attacked by a swarm of bees. It took a few minutes but she eventually settled down with her arms hanging down, fingertips almost to the ground. Her chest heaved in and out searching for air. Defeated.

"Fuck you," she gasped.

"So is that a yes?"

There were two deep breaths before she hissed, "Yes."

"Oh and one more thing, yes, I'd like your pussy shaved. Bald."

She growled at me.

I clapped my hands together laughing. Oh what fun I was going to have.

I untied her shoelace. She slipped to the ground.

As she stood up I brushed the twigs and leaves off of her and gave her a kiss. "You okay?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "Yeah."

"Are you staying tonight?" I asked. I could hear the apprehension in my voice.

"Only if you want me to Doug."

"Of course I do. I know you bought something funny for dinner. What is it?"

"Nopalitos."

"What the hell's that?"

"Cactus," she said as she picked up her spent beer can and turned to walk down the mountain. She turned after a few steps and said, "Come on let's go."

Did she say cactus? I picked up my beer can and followed her down.

"Do we get early Christian music with that?" I was ribbing her as I walked behind.

She stopped, considered for a second then said, "I've some Gregorian Chants in the Yaris. Only one CD though, but it's two discs."

"I was joking," I said as we continued to make our way down the mountain.

She turned to me and said, "Well I'm not," and then walked off.

What a strange bird, that Caitlyn Progue. How many Goth girls have Gregorian chants in their car?

I came downstairs after my shower, dressed in usual sweats and tee to the sound of monks chanting throughout my house. There was almost an echo happening. I half expected a line of brown robed, hooded little men to shuffle by. I was sure they were somewhere in the house. I checked to make sure the front window wasn't replaced with stained glass.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?" I kissed Caitlyn as I entered the kitchen.

"I told you, cactus," she said and lifted the lid.

"Wow!" it did smell good. I didn't see any needles, but I did see what appeared to be green tomatoes. "What can I do?"

"Set the table, I'm having my shower. Don't let anything burn."

Off she went. The monks and I were left in charge of cooking... of what I didn't know.

There was a sliced onion and a clove of garlic on the cutting board. The rice was out. I picked up a little box she had obviously bought, Achiote Condimentado. What the hell?

She came down from her shower wearing a black knee length skirt and a white blouse. No bra because I could see nipples and nipple rings poking through. Somehow it didn't match the fuzzy pink slippers. She had some eye makeup on too. Black naturally. But not too much.

From the couch where I sat I peered up holding my newspaper in one hand and beer can in the other. Clearly I had a puzzled look on my face.

"It's Sunday night dinner Doug. Are you really going to be dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt?"

Gulp.

Apparently I set the table wrong. Caitlyn showed me how the plate has to be one inch from the edge of the table, fork on the left, one inch, knife on the right, also one inch, blade towards the plate. Small fork also on the left, outside of the larger one, also one inch from the table edge. Spoon on the right, outside of the knife.

"We won't need teaspoons," she said grinning, "I'll make a gentleman out of you yet."

What the hell?

Maybe it was the Gregorian monks that were mocking me? I went upstairs to change into nice slacks and a long sleeve shirt.

"That's better," she said smiling as I walked into the kitchen.

"Can I do anything to help?"

"You could pour me a glass of wine. White please." She was stirring the rice and slicing a cucumber at the same time.

I drained back the rest of my beer and poured myself a glass of wine too.

"Do you have candles for the table?" she asked.

"I think so," I answered, and went off in search of something that may or may not exist. After a few minutes I found one. It was only slightly burnt. I popped it into a glass candle holder and set it on the table. I found matches too.

"Go on, light it," she said as she walked into the dining room with two salads on small plates. "Do you have trivets, something to protect the table from hot bowls? We need two."

I found some and lit the candle just as Caitlyn showed up carrying two bowls with serving spoons in them.

I got the hint. I held out Caitlyn's chair for her to sit on as she came back with her wineglass. With a huge smirk on her face she sat down as I pushed her chair in for her.

"Thank you kind sir."

"You are most welcome madam." I took my seat. "Do we need to say grace?"

"If you wish, but I think the monks have been doing that for the last hour, what do you think?"

"I would agree. Please tell me, dear lady, what is it exactly that we are dining on tonight?" I couldn't tell.

"A stew of pork, Nopalitos, that is cactus and tomatillos. And this is rice with achiote, it's a crushed seed, Mayan red."

It was fantastic. I'd never tasted anything like it before. I certainly expressed my gratitude to Caitlyn for the fine dinner.

"Thank you for getting dressed up a little," she smiled holding her fork.

"I must say that your nipples show well through the blouse. Thank you so much."

"See, isn't Sunday dinner nice?" she said with a huge grin on her face.

"With these monks chanting away, does that mean the Sunday night sex has to be missionary style?" I asked.

"Sex on a Sunday night? You must be joking," she said with a straight face.

I think I turned white. I considered her leather collar with a cross, her early Christian music and the Gregorian chants. Is there some Christian taboo about Sunday sex that I don't know about? What was with this girl?

"I'm joking Doug!" She curled her little finger and regarded it for a second.

I let out a sigh of relief.

We cleaned up after dinner. There were enough leftovers for both of our lunches the following day.

I snapped her ass with the tea towel as she ran out of the kitchen giggling heading for the stairs.

She was kneeling on the bed facing the door undoing her blouse when I made it upstairs. Her skirt was hiked up. Fuzzy pink slippers still on.

"Come suck my nipples," she said as she slipped one arm from the sleeve.

Eagerly I approached the bed undoing my shirt.

"Pants too. I want you naked," she said as she tossed her blouse to the side chair.

As I undressed I discovered that Caitlyn hadn't been wearing panties the whole time. I missed some serious grope opportunities, especial during the clean-up. I made a mental note to myself.

She lay on her back on the bed, naked. I crawled up to her and lowered my mouth to her left nipple. Hard ring and soft nipple invaded my mouth. I twisted both with my tongue, my lips pursed and I gently suck it in. I could hear her breath escape. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked in as much breast as possible. Easily half went in. I returned to tongue teasing and gently sucking her nipple. Caitlyn teased my hair as I continued. I switched to the other nipple and repeated the process. Caitlyn's breathing became heavier and heavier. Her nipples became longer and harder. I switched back to the left nipple and started the process again. After a few moments, I switched back to the right.

I suddenly became aware that my cock was rigid.

Caitlyn's face was flushed as I pulled my lips off her nipple. Her fingers immediately continued where my tongue had left off. She gently twisted and tugged at her nipples.

I kissed my way down her belly stopping at the piercing in her belly button. I sucked and twirled it in my mouth before proceeding father south. By the time I reached her public hair I saw that Caitlyn's belly was bouncing.

She spread her legs apart and held her knees up. Her pussy spread open to reveal her pink majesty. The sweet, tangy, earthy essence of Caitlyn juice pulled me in. My tongue touched her pussy lips. I gave her a huge lick and collected as much as she offered. Her taste triggered something deep in my brain because I lost all sense of time and space. It was me and her open pussy; a complete symbiotic relationship. I pleasured her pussy, she pleasured my brain. Her thighs quivered on either side of my head. I was aware of her moaning. I kept licking her innermost folds, tasting, kissing, savoring, extending my tongue into hole, swallowing with delight, twirling her rings with my tongue, kissing her clit, drooling, gently sucking her clit into my mouth, licking the length of her slit, relishing the flavor, poking my tongue into her hole again, swallowing, kissing her clit.

Her thighs and belly were shaking. I could hear her breathing.

I sucked on her clit and held the suction.

"Aauuugh!" her pussy flexed out to my chin. I gave her clit a hard lick, "Nnngghppha," she contracted again, she gasped for air, "hhhhaaa," she exhaled as she flexed again. I sucked in her clit again. "Auuughh," she flexed to my chin again.

She dropped her knees. I saw her pussy contract again. Looking up I saw her face was red, sweaty. Her nostrils flared in search of air.

Her arms flopped to her sides as her chest heaved. With each breath her small tits widened and flattened.

"Oh god," she gasped.

I lapped at her pussy again and was rewarded with a good dose.

"Fuck me," she said breathlessly.

"Doggy?" I suggested playfully.

Without answering she rolled herself over and up onto her hands and knees.

"Shuffle down the bed," I said to her, pulling her hips towards the foot of the bed. She complied. I shifted myself around the bed so that my cock was in front of her face. My cock was at full mast, pointing straight up. Before I had a chance to suggest anything Caitlyn's mouth was on my cock, she was trying to stuff it down her throat but the angle was incorrect. She left it glistening with saliva.

I shifted and positioned myself behind her ass. She lowered her face and chest to the bed, Her right hand moved to her pussy, with her index and middle fingers catching her inner labia and rings she splayed her pussy open. Silently offering, inviting me in.

My cockhead was there right away. I pushed it in. She was tight, warm, wet. I grabbed a hold of her hips.

"Ohhh," she exhaled.

I pushed all the way in and held my cock inside her.

"Ohhh...yeah...ohhh," she gasped.

I slid my cock out and slowly slid it back.

"Yeah, that's it...fuck me."

Her fingers found her clit.

I slid my cock out and pushed it back in. I could feel her knuckles on my scrotum.

We started a good rhythm, she fucked back eagerly anticipating every push of my cock inside her. With each stroke the momentum increased. With each stroke the vigor and intensity increased. Very soon I was fucking her and she was screwing right back with all of her might.

The temperature in the bedroom increased, the oxygen level decreased. Our chests were pumping for air. Her right cheek was pressed to the bed, her face was red, nostrils flared.

I loved watching Caitlyn's pussy lips get pushed in and then drawn out as they followed every stroke of my cock. Her bumhole flexed with her pussy lips. I was like a voyeur, gazing at the details of a porno film that I was starring in. Fully involved, but somehow detached. It only fueled my addled brain, pushing me closer to the edge.

Her brown bum hole was tightening and loosening, seeming on it its own volition. I dribbled some spit down and hit it squarely. I licked my right index finger.

Just between flexes, I slipped my finger in.

"Ahh," her head shot up. After a moment as I continued to fuck her relentlessly, her head found the bed again.

I twisted my wrist and my index finger as I pounded into her. Her neck and head was bright pink.

Caitlyn's relentless clit rubbing was pushing her. Her bum and thighs were shivering uncontrollably even though I was holding her hip with one hand and grinding my finger into her bum with the other.

I fucked with my cock in and out, angle to one side, to the other, angle down, roll my hips so that her bum hole was pushed out so I could penetrate more with my finger. Deep jab and another. Such joy!

"Aaauuughh," her orgasm hit her as if she was smacked suddenly. Her spine arched up. I could feel tightness around my cock. I saw her bumhole contract around my finger. "Uuughh," she did it again. Fingernails nipped at my scrotum as I buried my cock deep into her and finger as deep as it would go. "Nngghh," she was gasping for air. Drool was collecting on the bed next to her face. It was too much to watch and feel.

I burst inside her. My hips flexed uncontrollably in recoil to each spurt. Everything was suddenly hot and wet. I was aware of my need for air. My heart was beating rapidly.

Caitlyn's spine arched up and down as she reacted to my orgasm.

I fell on the bed, rolling onto my back. My rapidly deflating pecker flopped to the side, still glistening.

Caitlyn's fingers were on her pussy searching. "You came didn't you?" she asked. Her fingers shifted to her mouth.

"Yeah." I thought that was quite evident.

She flipped herself off the bed and squatted on the floor next to the bed. Her legs wide open. Her right hand cupped under her puss.

Still on my back I watched the entire proceedings with my head hanging off the edge of the bed.

"There we go," she smiled and pulled her hand to her mouth. Scoop, lick, finger, lick, she repeated four or five times. She stood to get access to my cock and managed to slip one of her cummy fingers into my mouth. "Nice?"

"Mnnng," I managed before she pulled her finger out. Why does she do that?

Once her post coital ritual was complete s we lay on the bed wrapped in each other's arms. I pulled the sheet over us.

"Thank you," we whispered to each other.

"Tell me about your family," she said as we lay cuddling.

"I have a mother and a father, both retired and doing well, and an older sister. She lives in Chicago. Mum and dad live in the same house we grew up in, in town. He was with the post office. She used to work for a printing company. What about you?"

"I never worked for a printing company."

I smacked her bum.

"Three older brothers. One's a lawyer in Ottawa, one's a doctor, a podiatrist..."

"He delivers babies?" I interjected.

"No that's a pediatrician, he's a foot doctor," she corrected me then continued, "and the third is a chemical engineer working for an oil exploration company."

No wonder Caitlyn grew up thinking she wasn't good enough.

"What about your parents what do they do?" I asked.

"My dad's semi-retired. He was partner in a downtown law firm. My mom never worked except for raising us."

"Wow, sounds like a well to do family," I commented.

"We did okay," she said casually and yawned.

After a few moments I asked, "Where did you learn to cook?"

"In a kitchen."

"What? Did you take classes or work in a restaurant?"

"No. From my mom. It was her job and then my job to feed the men in the house."

"That's a bit sexist isn't it? In today's world?" I asked.

"We were traditional Catholic, what can I tell you?" She yawned.

"What did they want you to become?" I asked.

"A mother of twelve children. Other than that, I don't think they cared." I could see her eyes closing.

"Shut the light off," I said. She did.

"Goodnight sweetheart," I whispered.

"Goodnight Doug," she whispered back and yawned.

*

On Monday we packed up the bench rails but didn't call numb-nuts to tell him they were ready for pick up. That could wait until Wednesday. I didn't want him to get the impression he overpaid for the work.

That morning a landscape architect that I'd worked with several times called me and asked me to stop by his office. We needed to deliver a bunch of stuff up to Whistling Swans anyway, so I combined the two events. Plus I wanted to get the dress for Caitlyn.

I asked her to come along.

We off loaded at the golf course then went to the architect's office.

"Frank Proulx, this is Caitlyn Progue. Caitlyn, Frank." They shook hands.

"So you're the new Alfie?" Frank sized her up.

"New and improved," I said.

"Oh?"

"Caitlyn has talents, which Alfie never had," I turned to her grinning.

She blushed. I knew what she was thinking...'Doug, you prick'.

Frank described the job. He was doing the landscaping for a very well-to-do couple's house. The work included a large deck with an outdoor kitchen, a hot tub spa area and a gazebo together with a privacy fence in two locations. "The whole garden is themed on lilies as the guy's wife's name is Lily and it's her favorite plant," he said. "Day lilies, he added as an afterthought.

"Do you have this job or are you just bidding on it?"

He laid out a set of drawings. They had his logo on it.

"I've got the job. It's a go-ahead."

"Excellent," I said.

He wanted us to do bas-relief carvings of lilies on the woodwork. "Nothing gaudy or garish," he said. "And no paint."

Looking at the drawings I asked, "Where exactly do you want the carvings?"

"You tell me. Give me your proposal and your price."

"Okay," I said, "is the work to be done in situ or can it be done in my shop?"

"In your shop would be better, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and less expensive. Let me ask, is it the same lily pattern to be used everywhere?"

"No I don't want to brand it. But I don't think the budget is there to custom carve everything. I need your carvings to tie everything together. To make it flow. What do you suggest?"
"That we develop six or eight patterns and use them over and over. Butt two together if it has to make a larger piece. Put three or more together if it needs to be larger still."

"Hey Doug, this is why I go to you."

"When do you need drawings?"

"End of week?" he was stretching, he knew it.

"Caitlyn, is that enough time for you?" I asked.

She looked at me in shock. Her face completely changed as she turned to him. She smiled at Frank and said. "That will be plenty, we'll have drawings to you by Friday afternoon. Thanks Frank."

What a pro.

"Together with our cost estimate proposal," she said as she smiled to me.

Oh the devious little wench.

"What makes you think that I can design a bunch of lilies?" she asked as we drove away.

"If you can design and draw up that tattoo of yours, you can design and draw up a bunch of stupid lilies."

She was grinning as we drove along.

We stopped by Talbot's dress shop on the way home. Caitlyn had horror written all over her face as we approached the older sales lady. "Could you please set up this young lady with a sexy dress? Something flowery and feminine? Preferably pink. I'll be back in a half hour to pay for it."

"Certainly, come right this way dear." She smiled and held her hand out to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn took the lady's hand and turned her face to mine. Poison darts flew at me together with an upturned middle finger behind her back.

I left the store chuckling.

On my way to the food court I sussed out a couple of other stores. Shoes and a handbag. Plus make-up. All pink.

Caitlyn was going to kill me.

It was perfect.

I didn't see her in the dress, it was packed up ready to be paid for when I got back.

We went to the other stores. I sat on the bench outside as she sorted herself out inside. I just showed up at the cash register at the right time.

By the time we made it to Victoria's Secret the look of horror on her face had been completely replaced with a mischievous smirk.

I needed to figure out a coming out event.

Dinner that night was T-bone steaks, fried potatoes dashed with paprika, peas and carrots with melted butter and a lettuce, cucumber and avocado salad with a lemony vinaigrette dressing.

She followed me outside to watch me barbeque the steaks. I flipped them onto the hot grille. Steak on a gas barbeque? Man's world stuff, right?

Wrong.

"Not like that," she said as she lifted the steaks off. She repositioned them at a forty five degree angle to grille.

"And when you flip them, flip them a hundred and eighty degrees so it's still at a forty five degree angle to the grille. Then the next flip is at ninety degrees," she showed me with her hand, "and then the final flip is a hundred and eighty degrees. And that's it. No more flipping. That way the steaks will have perfect X's from the grille marks, back and front."

I stood then with my mouth open in disbelief.

"And turn it up to high," she said as she walked away.

"Yes ma'am."

She was right. They were perfect. They tasted the same I suppose, but they certainly looked better.

"So when did you lose your virginity?" I asked as I gathered salad on my fork.

"Oh gees, it seems like last week. I remember his name, yes, it was Doug Jenner."

"Fuck off, I wasn't your first."

She chewed her steak for a while then said smiling, "Maybe not my first, but certainly my best."

"Oh, that's so sweet. Liar." I cut into the steak. Maybe it tasted better too?

"It was only when I went to art school. I was a virgin all through high school."

"Really?"

"I told you," she said, "no one wanted to date me."

I sliced another piece of steak and chewed for a moment, then said "As I remember high school, yes there were a number of dates that I went on, but for the most part it was a bunch of kids hanging out together. That's where the social and sexual interaction took place."

"Is that how it worked for you?" she asked and then added, "when did you lose yours?"

"It was exactly like that. It was a house party. I was fourteen. So was she. Maria Lopez. I'll never forget her."

"Was she cute?"

"Cute and drunk. So was I."

"Cute?"

I smiled at Caitlyn and sliced another piece of steak, purposely ignoring the last question. I said, "You must have been in similar social situations during high school, you know, hanging around with other kids and then fooling around."

"Yeah, I did I guess. But that's how girls got reputations, like my friend Carly did."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and it's not fair," she said, "if a girl sleeps with four or five different guys she's called a slut, but if a guy does that..."

"Then he's gay. Most definitely he's gay." I interrupted smiling.

She laughed.

"So you managed to avoid having a reputation in high school by not having sex?" I asked.

"I didn't say I didn't have sex," she corrected me, "I just said I remained a virgin."

"And you avoided getting a reputation?" I asked.

"Yes, but that was by mutual threat. I told Billy that if he told anyone that I sucked his cock I would tell everyone the truth."

"Which was?"

"That he had a tiny cock, which was true."

"Oh so you came to a mutual agreement. Did you only suck him off once?"

"Hell no. And he'd eat my pussy and fingered me. We just never fucked." She smiled at me.

"So you did have a normal high school upbringing." I said.

"I guess," she answered as she picked out the last of her salad. "I remember my first time. Looking back on it now it was quite comical. He came in about three seconds."

"Poor bastard," I said, "quick and tiny."

"Yeah," she laughed, "he was a bit of a nerd." She bit into her last piece of steak and asked, "Do you remember your first blow job?"

"Yeah, I do." I answered. The image of Gina popped in my mind.

"Did you swallow?" she asked smiling.

"Fuck off!" I threw my crunched up napkin at her.

"What, you've never had a gay experience?" she asked grinning.

"No, have you?"

"Maybe," mock innocent eyes again.

"Get off, you did not." I said.

"All I can say is that art college was full of crazy chicks."

I stood up and picked up our empty plates. "That is quite evident," I said.

She smiled as she followed me into the kitchen with the salad bowl.

We cleaned up and made our way upstairs.

After brushing my teeth and doing all the usual stuff I walked out of the bathroom naked. She was already on the bed, naked too. It was that little bit of an awkward moment. We knew what we wanted to do, just didn't know how to get it started. I lay down next to her and rubbed her pussy gently.

"Cate, tell me, what was the best sexual experience that you ever had?"

"Honestly?"

"Seriously, what was it?"

"The first time we made love."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

I tried to recall exactly what we did. I licked her pussy. Pulled my fingers out in a vee. I remembered that. Then we fucked. She came first. A lot. I remembered that too. Still, that couldn't have been so special.

"What was so special?" I asked.

"It was when you came inside me. The other times when we've fucked, I was still convulsing from my own orgasm and I didn't really notice you cumming. But that time, I could feel you cum inside me. Every pulse. It was unbelievably sexy. I think about it a lot. It drives me wild. So fucking sexy."

"Really?"

"Duh?"

"Do you want me to do it again?" I was grinning.

She rolled over onto me and planted a big fat kiss on my lips. "Do it again."

Music to my ears. I had to think it through for a moment but then I said, "Masturbate for me."

I rolled to the side and then perched myself between her legs. They were splayed wide open. Nothing was hidden. She was a glorious sight.

Her fingers found her clit.

Mine found my shaft. It was hard already.

Our eyes, briefly, found each others.

I focused on her pussy as she rubbed it. She, laser like, stared at my cock. I stroked it languidly up and down.

She licked her lips.

I stroked. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her fingers were busy on her clit.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her nostrils flared.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her fingers were a blur on her clit. Her left hand fingers were on her left nipple ring. I added my fingers to her right.

Up. Down. Up, down.

She stared at my cock. Up. Down. Up, down.

She was in a frenzy.

Up. Down. Up, down. I squeezed my cock and brought a dribble of pre-cum out.

"Ohhh!" she reacted immediately. Her head bobbed down. She couldn't resist.

"Lick only," I said, "don't suck."

She licked. Big time. She hit the vee under my cock head, my eyes rolled in their sockets as she did. Her fingers never let up on her clit. Her face was all red when she lifted it.

I kept stroking myself. She kept watching. Her whole body was twitching.

Briefly, she glanced into my eyes. Her green eyes were glassy. Her mouth hung open. Nostrils were flared. She was breathing hard.

I continued to stroke. I squeezed some pre-cum out of my cock. I scooped it up with my finger and slipped it into her mouth. Her eyes closed as she licked my fingers. I could see the satisfaction in her face.

Her fingers were still a blur. We both tugged at her nipples.

Up. Down. Up, down.

"Fuuuuckkkk!" she screamed as her entire body convulsed before me. What a sight to behold. The whole bed shook. I had to let go of the nipple for fear of permanently damaging her.

I watched her vagina contract and open and contract again, over and over. She was oozing Caitlyn heroin from her pussy. I couldn't help myself. I scooped some up with my finger and popped it into my mouth.

Bliss.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down Up. Down. Up. Down.

No longer were they languid strokes. I was going to cum soon. We both knew it.

Caitlyn sat back and opened her legs up wide, knees bent. I lunged forward. I pushed my dick into her, balls deep.

"Ohhh!" she gasped.

"Lay still," I managed to get out.

My flaring cock pulsed inside her pussy, ready to blow off. That was what she wanted. Me too.

She was breathing hard. "Lay still," I whispered. She did.

It only took me two slow strokes before I got to the point of no return and stopped, deep inside her. I held my breath.

My sphincter contracted as I shot my semen. And again. And again. And again.

I took a deep breath and the last of my cum escaped from my cock.

I'm sure my face was contorted into a grotesque. It felt like I pumped a ton into her. Her pussy was suddenly warm and wet.

Aside from breathing hard, she didn't make a sound. Her eyes rolled around her head.

Her face reddened, her breathing accelerated and her pussy muscles contracted. Over and over and over. She didn't make a sound aside from a gulp at the end of it.

I guess she liked it.

We lay there for a few moments. I needed oxygen. My dick started to shrink and slip inside of her.

"Don't fucking move," she commanded in a low voice.

I complied.

Her body shuddered again.

"How do you do that to me?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

"Make me cum like that," she answered.

"It's all in your head," I whispered.

"No, it's all in my cunt."

"Do you want me to feed it to you?" I could feel my cock slipping in her warm hole.

"You bet." She smiled and her eyes sparkled.

I pulled my cock out and immediately placed my fingers at her opening. Cum oozed out. I scooped it with my fingers and fed it to her open mouth. She licked my fingers with relish. My fingers made it back just in time to catch another dribble. I repeated the process. On the fourth scooping I had to push my two fingers inside her to coat them with cum.

She insisted that I put my elongated, softened cock into her mouth so that she could clean it off too. I hadn't realized that she fingered herself as she cleaned me off.

That glistening finger found its way into my mouth as I pulled my cock out from her and repositioned myself on the bed. How does she do that?

"Do you like it?" she asked with a playful list to her voice.

"No, not particularly." I answered to her giggles.

"You know you have a cum fetish," I said.

"No I don't. I have a Doug Jenner fetish."

"You're crazy."

"Crazy about you."

I kissed her cum drenched lips. She plunged her tongue into my mouth.

We hugged and kissed. I tickled her nipples. She played with my flaccid cock. I gave her a full body massage. She rubbed her clit to orgasm again. She scratched my back.

I fell asleep.

*

The next morning Caitlyn got busy with the drawings. I told her what size each should be. I suggested five be 9" wide by 36" tall that could be used side by side and that two should be 8" x 8" and one 4" x 12". I had all kinds of paper to draw on, tracing paper too and pencils and erasures galore.

I showed her an example of how to draw a bas-relief pattern.

I showed her how to work the scanner/photocopier/printer unit.

She set herself up in the little office at the drafting table. I didn't bug her or check in on her. I could see her working away through the window. Sometimes the pencil would be set in her lips. Sometimes she was referencing something on the internet. She seemed to be really enjoying herself.

It warmed my heart.

By the end of the day she didn't have eight drawings. She had twenty four. Each drawing came in three versions. Sparsely carved, luxuriantly carved and an intermediate between the two. The most astonishing element was that with the five large drawings, she had managed to pattern the work such that every panel perfectly aligned with every other panel creating a continuous carving of lilies in abundance. The five could be mix and matched in any number of possibilities. Each one became a unique pattern of lilies.

I was stunned.

"Do you like it?" she asked with trepidation in her face.

"I can't believe what I'm looking at Caitlyn, this is amazing! Do I like it? It's unbelievable. You're unbelievable."

She was beaming.

I put the drawings down, "Come here give me a kiss," I said.

"Unh unh unh, not in the shop," she said wagging a finger at me but still smiling.

"Step outside then lady." She skipped to the door. I followed.

We hugged and kissed. "You absolutely amaze me," I told her as we embraced. She hugged me tightly. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "You really are beautiful you know." More tears flowed.

"I was afraid you weren't going to like them."

That inner insecurity was still there. "I love them," I said. I wondered if I loved her too. It was sure getting to feel that way.

"Any chance you can stay the night?" I asked, still hugging her.

"Sorry I can't tonight," she frown up at me, "it's my dad's birthday."

How disappointing. Right then and there I realized just how hard I'd fallen for Caitlyn.

*

It took me pretty well all of Wednesday to price up what Caitlyn had drawn and to prepare the proposal. They could buy only a little carving work or a lot, depending on their tastes and budget. I let her read the final draft. She marked it all up in red pencil greatly improving it all.

While I was preparing the proposal, Caitlyn had carved a sample of one of the 9" x 36" panels.

She went home that night, much to my dismay.

*

Thursday we delivered the proposal and sample to Frank Proulx. He flipped through the proposal, looked at the drawings, examined the sample and flipped through the proposal again. He looked at me, at Caitlyn, then said, "Next time, I'm just going to Caitlyn. This is amazing. The client is going to love it. Your proposal and design is perfect. It gives them any number of options to choose."

Caitlyn squeezed my hand under the table.

We talked about money for the project. Frank said he was a little baffled, the client hadn't given him an overall budget. He would simply go to the client, offer them several options and they would pick one and the working budget was adjusted accordingly. Or they would send him away in search of another solution.

He explained that he was going nuts trying to find landscape lighting that would satisfy the client. The client was adamant that the fixtures be shaped like a Day Lily. It's something he had promised his wife.

On our drive back, Caitlyn asked me why we couldn't make a light fixtures that are shaped like a lily.

"It's a light fixture. It's made of metal, it's got glass, something that the light bulb has to plug into and wire." I said.

"So?"

"Caitlyn, we have a wood shop, not a metal shop."

"So, we design it and we sub it out."

"Caitlyn, what do you know about designing a light fixture?"

"Nothing, Doug. What I do know is that Frank has a problem which is essentially a design and manufacturing problem and we design and do effectively small manufacturing." She glared at me with that 'duh' look.

She was absolutely correct. "I do know a couple of metal shops," I said, then added, "and a custom glass blowing place. You're brilliant, you know that."

She smiled and grabbed my hand squeezing it.

"Let me call Frank," I said. I called him from the pick-up truck as we drove along. He picked up.

"Frank, it's Doug. I've got Caitlyn beside me, we're on speakerphone."

"Yes?"

"Caitlyn's got an idea for your lighting problem."

"Okay?"

"What if we put a drawing together of what the light fixture should look like...," I said.

"Fixtures."

"Okay fixtures. We'll design them so they more or less follow the same pattern as the wood carvings and we'll have a metal shop make them up. I know a glass guy."

"Caitlyn?" Frank asked, "Can you really do that?"

"Yeah, why not?" she said.

"Sounds great," he said, "can you do it in stainless steel?"

"Yes," I answered. "Anything can be done for a price. But never mind the money right now. How many different types of fixtures are required and how many of each?"

"A downlight pendant, an uplight spot, wall scones and lights for the steps, but those I've got figured out. So, three types. I don't have the exact numbers in front of me right now but call it two hundred pendants, fifty spots and fifty wall scones. And you know what? I know a guy who can actually make the fixtures, you know, do the wiring and all that, but he can't make the decorative part."

"That's perfect Frank," Catlin said leaning into the cell phone, "when do you meet with the client?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

She said, "We'll have drawings for you by then, concept drawings anyway. Can you send us something that shows us what you're looking for functionally? Like some catalogue cuts?"

"I can email you what I've proposed so far and the lighting plans. I can do that right now."

"Great." We both said.

"Caitlyn, you're brilliant. Doug, do you have any idea how lucky you are to have Caitlyn?"

"Every day is a new surprise Frank," I smiled at her, she was beaming back, "and I count my blessings every day."

We ended the call. Caitlyn was almost bouncing in her seat. I was so happy for her.

"Thanks Doug," she said smiling and squeezing my hand.

"Caitlyn, I didn't do anything. This is all coming from your brain."

She couldn't stop grinning as she looked out the window. On top of everything else she had good business acumen too. Just how lucky could I get?

"I need to work a little late tonight. Do you mind if I stay at your place?" she asked with mock innocence in her face.

I was getting to know that mock innocent look.

"You expect me to cook?" I asked.

"No," she laughed and then added, "take-out."

"Deal." She hugged my bicep as we drove.

When we got back to the shop Caitlyn ensconced herself in the little office again. I did some shop work and then cleaned up, leaving her working in the office.

After showering, I took off to pick-up Chinese food. They don't deliver where I am. As I pulled in with the food I noticed the shop light was off. Caitlyn was up in the shower. On the dining room table were six drawings. Three were free-form sketches, one of each lily fixture type. The other three were drawings that showed each fixture in front, side and top views complete with dimensions, just like a professional draughtsman would make.
Again, I was stunned.

I carefully put the drawings away and set the table.

"What do you think," she said as she came down the stairs in t-shirt and sweats.

"I think you're lovely," I said, "and I love your nipples too."

"Not that, of the drawings silly."

"Ah, no shop talk," I said as she gave me a kiss.

"Okay, but what do you think?" she pressed.

"Caitlyn, seriously. You don't cease to amaze me." I kissed down onto her smiling lips.

Chinese food was the standard fare. Beef fried rice, egg foo young, chicken balls with sticky red sauce, eggs rolls and fortune cookies.

Caitlyn watched as I unpacked the food. I could see that she was being very polite, forcing a smile on her face.

"I'm sure it will be lovely," she said as I spilled the little packets of soy sauce onto the counter.

"Have you ever thought about getting tied-up and then having sex?" she asked as we sat down to eat.

Where did that come from?

"What, do you mean bondage?" I asked I'm sure with a little surprise in my voice.

"Kinda. I guess," she replied as she scooped up some rice.

"Well no," I said, "the idea of receiving, or inflicting pain seems ridiculous. Why, is there a dark side to you that I don't know about? Is this a Goth thing? I thought that was just fashion."

"It is just fashion," she answered and then reflected for a moment before continuing, "well for me anyway. No and it's not about pain. I'm just curious about, oh, I don't know..." She ate a mouthful of rice.

"Tying someone up and then forcing yourself on them?" She was being coy all of a sudden.

"No, no," she answered with a mouthful.

"Having someone tie you up," I said.

She looked up at me with a bit of a leer on her face. So that was it. She wants to be tied up. "And have what done to you?" I asked studying her reaction.

She swallowed, thought for a second or two then answered, "I guess that's the point isn't it? You don't have any choice." Her leer widened into a smirk.

So she was asking me to tie her up and do what? Fuck her? Feed her my cum? She already does that. She did say it's not about pain. I couldn't see myself whipping her.

"Is this about forced orgasms?" I asked.

Mock innocent look, "Maybe."

Okay. This could get interesting. "Let me get this right," I said, "you want me to tie you up, restrain you somehow, and then force you to have multiple orgasms. Is that it?"

"Maybe," she answered her eyes on the ceiling above.

So that's a yes, I realized.

I sat contemplating what she had just asked. Did she want to submit herself fully and completely to my innermost depredations? If I did that would I lose an employee out of the deal and would the country squire scare her off too? I'm male and by definition a sick fuck, like all other guys. Does she have any idea of what she's asking?

But then she's fucked up too. Nipple rings and pussy rings. Gee. And her cum eating fetish. What the hell else is there about this girl?

I needed to find out.

And I knew she wasn't going to just tell me.

Okay. One step at a time.

"Only if it does not involve anyone else," I said, "it's just you and me."

With a very calm voice and a sincere expression she said, "I'm cool with that. I wouldn't want it any other way. Just you and me. No third parties."

Did I just agree?

"You'll have to give me a day or two to sort myself out."

She was beaming.

After dinner we cleaned up, watched some TV then we went to bed. I fucked her silly again and of course she needed a little dessert afterwards.

"Caitlyn, can I ask you something?" I asked as we lay in bed afterwards.

"What?"

"Something serious."

"What?"

"Am I taking advantage of you?"

She pulled on my soft cock.

"Yes you are."

Fuck. Is she serious when she said that? Seriously, am I? She's a fantastic employee, a fantastic cook and housekeeper, and a sex maniac. The reality is...I don't deserve this girl.

"I don't mean to be taking ..."

"Doug, you duffus," she gave my cock a really tight squeeze, "if anything, I'm the one taking advantage of you!"

I winced in pain a little, "How so?"

"You're the eligible bachelor, you're the good looking guy, you've got the steady income," she squeezed my balls, then gently rolled them in her fingers, "you're the one with the big heart, you're the sweet kind gentleman, which I'm working on," she switched back to my cock, "and you're the one with the big stiff cock."

Only it wasn't stiff.

"Happy cock," I said.

"It certainly makes me happy!"

I kissed her. Her tongue practically gouged me.

We sat for a moment contemplating the ceiling.

"Doug?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I'm taking advantage of you?" Her voice was very timid.

"Of course you are," I said, joking.

Wrong thing to say. She started sobbing.

"I'm joking!" How could anyone's emotions turn on a dime like that?

"No you aren't."

"Of course I am Cate, you're crazy. Actually that's not true. I'm crazy. About you!"

She let go of my cock and balls and gave me a big hug.

"I'm crazy about you too," she said.

I wiped the tears from her face with my fingers.

"Cate, you drive me nuts. My biggest fear is of losing you."

She squeezed me again and started crying again. After a few minutes of licking her tears from her cheeks, cuddling her and kissing her softly I slipped my hand onto the nipple ring of her right tit.

"Caitlyn, what do you want in life?"

"I don't know, what about you?"

"I don't know. I just want to be happy."

"Are you happy now?" she asked.

"With you, yes," I answered, "very happy."

"I'm more than just happy ," she said as she adjusted her position on the bed to give me a big, solid kiss. "I...I...lo..."

I kissed her suppressing the words she was trying to stammer out. I knew I loved her. I couldn't let her say the word. It was too early. I couldn't let her back herself into a corner, just to regret it later. If she said she loved me, I know how I would have reacted. I would have smothered her with affection. She was my employee. And my fuck-buddy. Had I heard her say, "I love you,' to me in a meaningful way, I would have broken apart. I would have been on my knees kissing her feet and asking her to marry me. To have my bambinos.

That would have surely scared her away.

I bit my tongue. Or rather I bit hers.

"Caitlyn, I am taking advantage of you. And I'm enjoying every minute of it."

She broke out into a huge grin and squeezed me tightly.

"And I'm taking advantage of you, and loving every minute of it too."

"You're so sweet," I said, "now turn off the lights and let's go to sleep."

She did. And in no time we were snoring.

*

The next morning, Friday, I had Caitlyn drive to Frank's to deliver the light fixture drawings. There was no sense in me going. That was her baby. I was proud of her. I could see she was a little apprehensive as she stepped into my pick-up truck.

"How did it go?" I asked when she returned.

"He wasn't there," she answered, "the secretary said he'd be back in an hour, but I didn't want to wait. Apparently his meeting with the client got moved to Sunday."

"That's okay, he's going to be blown away by the drawings."

She grinned at me.

*

The game plan for Caitlyn's coming out was dinner that night at Giovanni's Ristorante, a cozy overpriced little place in town. Caitlyn wanted to make a grand appearance to surprise me with the dress and all.

As arranged I dropped her off at her parents that afternoon together with her dress and everything she needed. She would take a cab and meet me there. Her Yaris was parked at the shop. Understood of course, but not spoken was that she would come back to my place and I would fuck her silly.

I didn't get to meet her parents, they weren't home when I dropped her off.

I picked up some lumber supplies and headed back to the shop to unload, shave, shower and get dressed. The reservation was for seven thirty. My intent was to get there a few minutes early.

I don't know where the time went, but I was running late. Not a lot, but just enough for me to be pissed off with myself.

There was a light drizzle as I sped along to the restaurant. I was trying to figure out how to ask Caitlyn to move in with me permanently. I hadn't even told her that I loved her. Nor had she told me. With any luck I could tell her that in the cozy restaurant and then ask her to move in with me. I wondered too if there would be a mental association formed, like a bond, between dressing femininely and being told 'I love you.' But then again, maybe she didn't really feel that way about me. Maybe she wasn't about to say 'I love you' last night. And of course there was the real possibility that I'd just be scaring a very good employee away. I knew I had to tread carefully.

There's never a great time to get a flat tire, but it only ever seems to happen at the worst possible moment. I got one. On the front passenger side.

I phoned Caitlyn to let her know I'd be late. She was already in the cab on the way to the restaurant.

It wasn't so much the dirt that I got covered in while I retrieved the spare from under the pick-up truck, or the dirt that I got on me as I pulled the flat off and hoisted the spare on. It was the constant spray and splashing from traffic on the road that completely covered me with oily dirt. I was too far from home to turn around.

I went straight to a Moore's shop, a chain menswear store. "Fix me up gentlemen, I'm already late for my date." They graciously let me use the staff washroom to wash myself as they selected clothing for me.

Within a few minutes and just within two hundred and fifty dollars, I was sporting a new set of slacks, nice shirt, socks and a sports jacket. They had the forethought of giving me a plastic carrier bag to sling over the driver's seat.

I was only an hour and twenty minutes late getting to Giovanni's.

Caitlyn looked lovely perched up at the bar waiting for me. The dress was a wrap around pinkish floral pattern with a plunging neckline. She wore a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. The nose ring was gone. She had light pink lipstick, eye make-up that wasn't just black. Her light pink leather shoes had a high heel to them and her clutch purse matched. Her legs were crossed as she smiled up to me. She looked delicious.

The only thing that ruined the whole picture was the stupid tattoo which stood out in strong contrast.

She toasted me with an empty martini glass. "Hi Doug."

"Caitlyn, you look lovely," I said, "I'm so sorry I'm late."

Before she even spoke another word, I could tell she had indulged in more than one martini. "You look handsome too," she slurred slightly.

Oh boy.

I stood her up onto her feet and gave her a nice kiss. The restaurant wasn't full. "I'm sure our table will be ready," I said.

The maitre-d showed us to our table. I held on to Caitlyn the whole way.

"Is it so bad," I asked as the waiter approached us with menus, "getting dressed like this?" The waiter was a middle aged man with a long nose and slicked back dark hair.

She smiled at me.

"Good evening," the waiter said as he handed us the menus, "may I get you something to drink from the bar?"

"Thank you," we said in unison, Caitlyn was about to say something when I added, "we may have something with dinner."

"Very well then, I'll give you a moment." The waiter whisked himself off.

"It's not so bad is it?" I asked again.

"Doug, let me put it this way. The next time you do something stupid, you're going to be the one wearing a dress and I'm taking you to a tranny bar," she said a little too loud. The people at the next table glared at us. Then, slurring, she added, "The hour and a half wait will be so much fun. I bet you won't have to buy a ffuckin' drink the whole night."

Oh dear.

"So Caitlyn, how many martinis did you have while waiting for me?" She held up one finger. Then a second. Then a third.

Oh boy.

"You should have seen the look on my mum and dad's ffaces as I came downstairs. They wouldn't let me leave until they took a photograph." She slurred the last word a bit.

"I'll bet they were shocked." I said lowering my voice, hoping that she'd get the hint.

"Ffuckin' right they were shocked. And I think they want to give you a medal." She didn't get the hint.

We were disturbing the people at the next table. I studied the menu. I needed to get some food into her right away.

The waiter came by with a little basket of different breads together with a plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Thank you lord.

"Anything to start?" he asked. What's quick I thought.

"Would you like some soup Caitlyn?"

"No thanks."

"Can we just get a quick antipasta to share?" I asked the waiter.

"Certainly sir, antipasto for two," carefully correcting my pronunciation.

"With lots of ssseafood in it." Caitlyn interjected.

"Certainly madam," he smiled, "Are you ready to order, now or would you like a little more time?"

"I think we can order now," I said smiling to Caitlyn, hoping to get this whole thing moving along.

"I'll have the ffishhh," she said.

The waiter took it in stride with a sardonic smile, "We have fresh red snapper, fresh mackerel, tuna, swordfish, sardines and I believe codfish, which would madam prefer?" He glanced at me with an understanding look.

"I'll have red snnappper please, grilled."

"Ah, very well madam, with a little pasta and sautéed vegetable?"

"Yes, please."

"And for you sir?"

"Is there osso buco?" I asked.

"Yes, sir there is."

"I'll have that with potatoes and vegetables."

"Very good. And the wine?"

"Would you like a glass of water Caitlyn?" She glared at me.

"I'll have a glass of Pinot Grigio please," she said to the waiter but stared at me.

"I'll have a glass of red, whatever your house red is."

"Montepulciano d'Abruzzo" he said.

"Perfect." Off he went.

"Bread?" I held the basket out to Caitlyn. Thankfully she took a piece and dipped it.

I leaned in a little towards Caitlyn, hoping she would too.

"Are you trying to look down my top?" She leaned back pushing her chest out, then leaned forward pulling the front of her dress out with her pinky fingers, breadstick still in one hand. "Well here you go, have a look!" I heard cutlery drop at the next table. She sat back up.

"Caitlyn."

"They're still there."

"Caitlyn."

She bit into her breadstick again and smiled at me.

Was she doing this on purpose or was it just three martinis talking? Either way it had to end. I thought about when the power was out during the ice storm. That was the only time I'd ever seen her a little drunk. Then, she demanded that I eat her pussy and then whipped off her red t-shirt. Maybe alcohol affects her that way. If so, I was in trouble.

The waiter came by with two glasses of wine. Great.

Caitlyn took a sip then stuck her tongue out at me.

Oh boy.

I held the breadbasket out to her. She took another piece.

I felt her shoe on the inside of my leg. She smiled at me as she bit the bread.

Oh no.

"Stop that," I whispered.

"Something wrong?" she said with mock innocent eyes as her hand reached under the table and touched my knee. "You have something I want."

Oh no.

"Maybe I should have ordered ssausage? Big, sspicy Italian ssaussage." She said too loudly then giggled to herself. I held my forehead in my hand, elbow on the table.

The waiter brought the antipasto. Thank goodness maybe the food will keep her mouth busy.

She tucked into it with a relish. It certainly was good. Grilled shrimp still in their shells. Two types of grilled clams, sautéed squid. Cheese, black olives, green olives. Grilled red peppers and grilled green beans. It was all laid out with Italian parsley as a garnish.

The problem was that by the time we finished it, she had finished her glass of wine.

She wiped her fingers off on the white napkin. "Excuse me for a minute," she said, "I need to fsresshen up," she grinned at me. I stood up to help her up but she was up before I had a chance. Off she went with pink clutch purse in hand, a little wobbly on pink high heels. After three steps she stumbled, just a little, "Whoa!" but recovered her balance. She stood for a moment rocking on her pink high heels. Her feet were shoulder width apart and her arms extended to the sides horizontally, clutch purse in right hand. The whole restaurant watched intently.

I sat with my head down after she disappeared from sight.

Her trip back a few minutes later was somewhat less eventful. The waiter had just cleared the antipasto plate and side dishes away. He asked if the young lady would like another glass of wine. I said no.

"I'll have another glass of wine please," she said to the waiter as she approached the table.

She smiled at me as she sat down. Her light pink lipstick had been freshened up.

"Better now?" I asked.

"Yes," she said as she held out something pink and lacy, "these were killing me." She carefully laid out her panties on the white tablecloth, pressing all the folds out with her pink fingernails. I looked up to her. She had a massive smirk on her face.

Now she was taunting me. Rather than snatching them up in embarrassment I took a sip of my wine and laid my glass on the panties. Two can play this game.

I flipped the little size tag on the panties and whispered to Caitlyn, "Why they're just a medium, you said you have a fat ass."

"Fffuckk off."

The waiter did a double take but graciously set Caitlyn's wine glass down, not on the panties, without saying a word or batting an eye. The epitome of savior-faire. What a pro. He was definitely getting a good tip.

She gazed at me with those mock innocent eyes.

The waiter dropped the bill off to the table next to us. Thank goodness for that.

"Bald...hairless," she said trying to keep a straight face, "not even a tiny stubble."

"Is that a first for you?" I asked in a low voice.

"Yup," she said, sipping her wine while grinning at me.

"Let's have a quick peek then," I said. It was my turn to taunt.

"What here?" she gazed around, her expression had changed. The drunk twit actually took me seriously. She kept glancing around. Her expression turned to a wide smirk.

Oh no! She was going to do it! She placed her hands on the table and started standing-up.

"Noooo!" I yelled, pushing her shoulders down.

"You thought I would do it! Ah ha! ha!" Everyone in the restaurant was watching.

With my face in my palms I wondered if we were about to get kicked out of the restaurant.

The food came. Again, the waiter did not bat an eye as he lay the plates down but asked, "Are we celebrating something tonight?"

"No," I answered.

"Yes," she answered. We both looked to her. "The public humiliation of Caitlyn Progue," she slurred.

"And of Doug Jenner," I added quietly.

"Very well then, please enjoy your meal." He didn't bat an eye.

The food was excellent. Thankfully she enjoyed hers too. At least it kept her mouth busy. But not her foot. She kept that busy trying to play footsie with me while smiling.

The waiter came by to ask if everything was I fine.

"It's great," I said.

Caitlyn said the food was great and added with that mock innocent face, "But I don't think Dougie is having a good time."

I smiled at the waiter and said, "I'm having a wonderful time."

His sardonic smile said it all.

The waiter didn't even ask if we wanted dessert. The bill came moments after we finished our last mouthfuls. He certainly was a pro.

There were four martinis on the bill. At nine bucks each. I paid the bill and left a generous tip.

I retrieved Caitlyn's long black coat from the coat check. She flashed me her bare pussy before I could get the coat to her. No one else would have noticed.

I wondered if I learnt my lesson as we drove home. Not only that, I started to calculate how much my stupid adventure with Caitlyn cost. Between her dress and shoes and stuff, my new clothes, the dinner and tip, her cab fare that I gave her money for, and gas; it must have been close to nine bills. Plus the frikkin' tire needed to be fixed.

I looked over to Caitlyn. She was asleep.

Was there anything positive to come out from this whole misadventure? Her pussy was shaved. But I wouldn't be seeing any of that tonight. Did she really feel she was being humiliated by being forced to wear that dress? Suddenly I felt guilty. If I was humiliating her, was her behavior tonight to punish me as a response, or was that just the alcohol talking?

There was really only two ways to find out. Get her drunk again, or get her dressed up again but without alcohol. For now though I just needed to have her settle down. After four martinis and two glasses of wine maybe she won't even remember the evening at all.

I managed to get her into the spare bedroom. It was the first time she slept in it. I slipped her pink shoes off, the necklace and earrings too. She slept in the dress.

*

Caitlyn was still sleeping the next morning when I took off to do some shopping in town. At an adult store I picked up a little white vibrator, really no bigger than a finger. It had a breast cancer awareness pink ribbon logo on it. It was waterproof and designed to buzz the clit. I also picked up two pairs of Velcro cuffs. Also in pink, just to piss her off.

She was in the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt eating toast and jam and nursing a big cup of coffee when I got back. It was okay. It was Saturday she had all the time in the world to recover.

"How's your head?" I asked.

"I'm sorry Doug."

"No, Cate. It's my fault. I shouldn't have forced you into an uncomfortable position."

"I shouldn't have drunk so much."

"You did look very pretty though. Maybe you'll wear the dress just for me?"

"What? Is that some sort of a kink thing?" she asked.

"Now that you mention it," I replied, "yes, my cock will respond to feminine and pretty every time."

I could see the wheels turning in her head.

She lazed around recovering all day. I vacuumed. She did some cleaning too but mainly stayed away from the vacuum cleaner noise. By mid-afternoon she was fine. By five she had a glass of wine.

Dinner was inch thick strip loin steaks on the barbeque. Now that Caitlyn trusted me, I was permitted to attend to them myself. She did baked potatoes in the microwave. They were topped with butter, sour cream and chopped chives. Sautéed garlic mushrooms, peas with butter and a side salad with that Russian dressing that she makes rounded out the meal.

As we ate I laid out exactly want I wanted her to do after dinner. Eagerly her head bounced up and down with every suggestion that I made.

After we cleared up she headed off upstairs. I went to the shop to get a few things.

She was in the pink floral dress again. Her pussy was freshly shaved. Pearl earrings and necklace. Lipstick, eye make-up, pink finger nails the whole bit. Even the shoes and panties.

She was kneeling on the carpet. Her wrists were bound with pink Velcro cuffs, extended horizontally to each side. Ropes connected to D-clips on the cuffs extended tightly to a door handle on one side and the stair banister on the other. She wasn't going anywhere.

The little white and pink dildo was pressed into her slit, the business end right up against her clit, and the rings on her labia were tied together with dental floss enveloping the whole dildo. Just the bottom end stuck out from her labia with the push button control. The crotch of her panties kept everything snuggly in place.

Her tits hung out of the dress. A small padlock was attached to each nipple ring. She was okay with the weight. Just.

My cock was already hard. I was naked.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

Breathlessly she answered, "Yeah."

I reached under her dress and found the end of the little vibrator in her crotch. Two presses clicked it into high.

She reacted immediately lunging forward, pulling at the ropes as her body twisted. Her motion made the padlocks swing from her nipples that were pulled down from the weight.

I stepped in front of her, my cock standing at attention.

Her mouth opened up like a baby bird's ready to be fed.

I stuffed my cock into her mouth.

With a gusto that surprised me Caitlyn sucked on my cock. She rolled her tongue around the head and repeatedly plunged the length deep down her throat each time holding it down for a second or two before pulling back for air. Saliva was dripping on her chin. Her nostrils flared with each breath. Her face, neck and the nape to her shoulders were pink, matching her dress.

Padlocks swung as her head bounced on my cock. I put my hands on the back of her head.

"No! Don't push my head," she garbled looking up to me. Spit rolled down her chin.

"Okay," I said and clasped my hands together behind my back.

Back down my shaft, she impaled herself with my cock deep into her throat. Her eyes bulged and watered. Her face was flushed red as she pulled back trailing spit. Cool air rushed past my cock as she gasped for air. Up and down the length of my cock she went. Gulping it down, almost gagging and then sucked it hard.

I couldn't believe she was enjoying that.

I saw her belly and thighs quivering below me. Clearly she was.

I was too. My hips started thrusting forward. She wasn't giving me a blow job by any stretch of the imagination, I was fucking her throat and she was loving it!

My hips swung from side to side pushing my cock head to one cheek, bulging it out, then the next and back again. Then she swallowed my cock again, balls deep and held for a second or two, wet red faced gasping as she pulled back.

"Auuughh" she growled and slightly bit down on my cock. Her whole body shook. The padlocks bounced. "Auugh," she shook again and jammed my cock back down her throat, holding as her body quivered.

The vibrator must have gotten to her.

My cocked picked up the in - out pace. I couldn't help myself. She continued to shudder below me. Her head and neck were red, tears ran from her bulging eyes, her runny nose flared in search of air and spit covered her cheeks and chin hanging in threads to her chest. "Mmmnnff," she trembled, "mmmnff" as my cock slipped in and out of her wet mouth. The pink lipstick was long gone.

The visual was too much.

I knew I was going to cum at any moment. Both my cock and my brain were ready to explode. My knees were shaking. I had trouble keeping my balance. My heart was racing. My breath deep and vocal.

Caitlyn never let up on her orgasm. She just kept on cumming. The sights and sounds of her spasm sent me over the top. I grabbed a hold of her shoulders to steady myself as I came.

Her mouth gurgled with my cum and her own tremors as I emptied myself into her. "Nnaaaghh," she contracted so hard that she bit down on my cock. It didn't stop spurting though. She swallowed come as quickly as she could as her body jerked in time with mine.

She pulled her head back, with mouth open and gasped for air. Her body jerked again. The end of my cock flopped on her chin, glistening wet. She sucked it back into her mouth. Her cheeks drew in as she sucked the last of my cum through my hole.

Everything was going grey. I had to sit down.

I was hyperventilating as I heard, "Get the vibrator out. Stop it."

I reached under Caitlyn's pink dress. The crotch of her panties were soaked. I wondered if she pissed herself. I pushed the vibrator through her slit until it popped onto the floor still buzzing like an angry bee.

I unhooked one D clamp, then the other. Caitlyn slumped to the carpet.

"Find the keys," she gasped.

They were on the table, I had to stumble up to get them. I unhooked each padlock and kissed her nipples and gently sucked them better. Caitlyn seemed to enjoy the nipple attention I gave her.

She turned the vibrator off and dropped it to the floor.

We lay on the floor, hugged and kissed each other. Her boobs slipped back into the dress. The pink Velcro wrist cuffs were still on.

"I can't believe you loved that," I said as we stared at the ceiling.

"My clit is numb," she answered.

"You didn't stop cumming," I said.

"I can still taste your cum." With that she rolled over and gave me a deep kiss, shoving her tongue into my throat. "Can you taste it?"

"Yes."

"Good isn't?" she smiled at me.

"You are one crazy lady."

"This crazy lady needs to have a shower and go to bed."

We cleaned up the ropes and put the things away. I had to clean a few spots off the carpet before we made our way upstairs.

She was standing in the bathroom after her shower, naked and shaved perfectly with toothbrush working away. I asked her from the bedroom, "Did you really enjoy getting tied-up like that?"

"Un-huh," she mumbled still brushing her teeth.

"Did you want me to do it again some time?"

"Un-huh," still brushing her teeth.

"What part did you like the best?" I asked.

I heard her spit, rinse and turn off the tap.

"Your cock," she said smiling as she walked into the bedroom and then added, "and I love that little vibrator, thank you."

"Maybe I'll shove it up your ass next time," I grinned at her.

"Maybe I'll shove it up yours," she grinned back.

"Turn the lights off."

*

I woke up first. As I lay in bed I watched Caitlyn sleeping nestled up next to me. Her tattooed arm stretched across my chest. She was lovely. She looked very comfortable.

She stirred. I kissed her forehead.

"Good morning sweetheart," I whispered. She hugged me and kissed my shoulder.

After peeing, we dressed to go downstairs in search of coffee.

"Are you staying for Sunday dinner?" I asked hopeful that she would.

"Only if you want me too," she answered coyly.

"Of course I want you too. I love Sunday dinner with you. I love every dinner with you," I grinned.

She insisted that she was going to buy stuff for dinner, complaining that I always tried to pay for everything. I talked her into taking the pick-up truck into town rather than her car. At least that way I was covering the fuel costs. Plus it was safer than that little Yaris.

I raked the lawn while she shopped in town. She was gone for hours. By the time she got back, I was raked out.

"I found a nice piece of roast beef," she said as she packed away the shopping.

"Great," I said watching her ass as she stuffed the fridge.

"It doesn't need to go in the oven until," she glanced at the clock, "about five o'clock. What do you want to do in the meantime?" she grinned.

She wanted to play.

*

Caitlyn and I were both completely naked.

As agreed, I let her tie me up. Pink Velco cuffs were attached to my wrists and ankles. Pink is not exactly my color, but what the hell, I bought them. Serves me right. She had carefully laid a bunch of pillows on the staircase and then, using rope from the shop, attached the D-clamps from the cuffs to the rails and spindles of the staircase.

I was spread eagled and my butt hole was somewhat exposed. I didn't like that bit. I wasn't going anywhere.

I had a hard-on thinking about what she was going to do. I had no idea. I just knew I was completely vulnerable. I couldn't move.

"Heh heh heh!" she winced at me as she secured the final rope. "Payback time, heh, heh heh."

She disappeared into the kitchen. What was that devious cunt going to do to me?

She came back with a big piece of ginger root. I'd seen her put it in the fridge. I thought she was going to make Chinese with it. She also had a paring knife and the potato peeler.

Naked, with her shaved pussy almost in my face, she started to peel the ginger root.

"Ever heard of figging?" she asked in a nonchalant manner.

"No. What's that?"

"Heh, heh, you'll see." She was giddy.

She carved the ginger letting the peels fall onto my chest. She couldn't stop giggling. All I could smell was ginger.

"What do you mean by payback time?" I asked, a little unsure.

She paused for a moment, still peeling the ginger. "I want to thank you for the dress, shoes and purse. And for the Italian dinner. I just want to say thank you in a very special way."

It warmed my heart.

She carved, what I could only describe as a butt plug. She held it in front of my face, popped it into her mouth coating with saliva and then shoved it into my ass.

"Owww! Fuuuck!"

"Heh, heh, heh."

Except for a finger, I'd never had anything in my ass before. That was way bigger than a finger. It hurt.

"Shit! Don't do that. It hurts. Take it out!" I was furious.

She gazed at me with a curious smile on her face, but said nothing.

Then I felt it. Oh shit, I felt it!

"Aaaaagghhhhhh! Fuuuuuckkk!"

My asshole was burning. Burning ring of fire times a million. Holy shit!

I started writhing in the restraints. I couldn't move. A Gila Monster tuber was stuck up my ass spitting out venom.

She was laughing, really enjoying herself. The cruel bitch.

I was sweating, in burning pain. The initial sting from the anal assault was gone, or eclipsed by the unbearable flame in my ass. It was getting worse by the moment. My chest was heaving.

"Fuuuuckkk!" It hurt. It stung. Big time.

"Don't squeeze your bum hole together, it will only release more ginger juice. You've got to control yourself. Relax and the burning will fade away. In the meantime, eat my cunt!" She moved up the stairs and straddled my face.

How could that be sex?

I stuck my tongue out. I had no choice. I licked her. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I tried to relax my bum, it didn't seem to want to listen to instructions from my brain.

"Oh yeah! I've got your attention now," she said as she ground her pussy into my face.

My asshole was on fire. She didn't have my attention. She kept grinding her pussy onto my face. I was cognizant of the fact that she was making happy sounds. I was ablaze. Scorching hot. Consciously I tried to force myself to relax my ass.

Quickly she stood up and ran away. I heard my cell phone ring, once.

"It's Frank Proulx," she said reading the call display and pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I gasped.

(Doug, it's Frank Proulx, how are you?")

"I-I-m okay" I stammered. I wasn't. I was a long, long way from okay. Try to relax I told myself.

(Listen Doug, I'm on my way back from the client's now. They loved your proposal and especially the light fixtures. Sorry to call you on a Sunday.)

"O-okay," I squeaked out.

(Your Caitlyn, she's done a great job. She's making me look good.)

"Ggrrhhh" Oh fuck. I'm burning! I couldn't help but pull at the restraints.

(You okay Doug?) She kept the phone pressed next to my face.

"C-caitlyn's here, do you want to talk to her?"

He paused then said, "Sure."

Caitlyn put the phone to her ear as she sat down on my face again.

"Frank how are you?" she said in a graceful, yet professional tone.

(...)

"Oh he's fine, just a little tied up right now."

(...)

She was crushing my face.

"Great! That's great," she said to Frank

I was in melt-down. Chernobyl had nothing on me. She lifted her crotch momentarily to allow me a breath of air.

(...)

"Mmmm, unh-huh," she said.

(...)

"Yeah." She let me breathe again.

(...)

"Yeah we can make a mock up."

I was fucking dying. It wasn't just my asshole; my entire body was on fire.

(...)

"Just the pendant?"

She kept grinding her pussy onto my face. I needed air. And a fire hose.

(...)

"Cost plus twenty five sounds reasonable. Do we split the twenty five?"

She lifted again. I gasped.

(...)

"We're good with fifteen."

(...)

"That's great, thanks Frank. I'll have Doug call you tomorrow." She lifted her pussy off my face. "I'll just let you say bye to Doug, bye." she stuck the phone to my face.

I gasped, "Gruumphtt."

(You okay Doug?)

"I-I was just choking on a piece of ginger." I stammered.

(Sorry, I didn't realize that you were eating. You know Caitlyn did very well. The clients are impressed. She's very talented.)

"F-frank, you have no idea what she's capable of." I must have been sweating blood.

(You must be very happy with her.)

"I'm absolutely delighted." I was silently screaming. "I'll call you tomorrow."

(Okay Bye.)

"Bye Frank," Caitlyn hit the end call button.

"Auuuuughh Fuuuuckk!" I screamed. The fucking lava stick was not letting up in my ass.

Caitlin bounded down the stairs and started doing a happy dance in front of me holding the cell phone in her right hand.

"They liked the proposal," she sang as she danced.

I was in agony.

"Liked the proposal," she swayed her hips side to side.

Shoot me, put me out of my misery.

"Liked the proposal," her elbows were flapping, "liked the proposal."

"Cate! Help!"

"Liked the proposal." She stopped dancing. Stood with the stupid mock innocence in her face and asked, "Something wrong Doug? You should be happy. They liked the proposal."

"It's fucking killing me, stop it."

"Ohhh...Dougie...it's burning a little is it?"

"Please."

She climbed up the few steps, straddled over top of me and looked down at me. "Doug, I'm going to ask you questions and you're going to answer them honestly. If I don't believe your answers, your figging continues for another fifteen minutes plus I'll add some ginger into your pee hole. Got that? And don't just give me the answers that you think I want to hear. Be honest."

I nodded emphatically.

"Did you make me wear a pink dress in public to humiliate me?"

"No," I squeaked.

"Why did you do it then?"

"I just wanted you to be more lady like, I hate that Goth look," I gasped out.

"Hmmm."

"When you say 'I' is that Doug my boss speaking or Doug with ginger up his ass, or both?

"Boss Doug doesn't have a say. Only Ginger Doug does." My ass was numb. My whole body was shaking.

"Good answer. But what makes you think Ginger Doug has a say in how I look?"

"Ginger Doug is falling for you big time. He only wants you to be happy."

"And what the hell is wrong with Goth?" she demanded.

"Nothing," I snorted back, "there's nothing wrong with Goth..."

"It can be a little high maintenance," she interjected then continued, "are you suggesting a Goth girl can't be a lady?"

"No! No!" I yelled, burning away, "You've got me wrong! I just don't like it on you. You're lovely. Beautiful. You don't need to paint yourself up and wear funny jewelry. Not for me! I'm falling for the Caitlyn that's underneath all that Goth stuff. The one that dances when she paints, the one that teaches me how to set the table right."

"What makes you think I will be happier not in Goth?"

"Right now, I can't think." I was in agony.

She smiled. "Last question," she said.

"If I find myself in a vulnerable situation again, are you going to demand that I go girly again? Be honest." She had a very serious look on her face.

I had to think this one through. It was impossible to rationally process anything with Dante's Infernos burning in my ass. I decided to just answer honestly and hope for the best.

"Yes, every time," I croaked out.

"Why?" she pressed an extra question home.

"Because you are far prettier than what you give yourself credit for. Sexy too."

She smiled and pulled out the butt plug.

"Ohhh...it's still burning."

She untied me from the railings.

"Go have a shower and sort yourself out." I scampered off.

After a shower where I basically gave myself an enema with the shower hose, I came downstairs with my tail between my legs. I was dressed in sweats and a tee.

She was too. She was making some tea.

"It will be a long, long time before I agree to letting you tie me up again," I said.
She chuckled, "Would you like some tea?" she asked smiling as she held up the box Lemon Ginger Herbal.

"No thanks," I smiled.

"Ginger ale?"

"Ginger is hereby forbidden in this house."

"Aww, I thought maybe you might want to give me a figging one day."

"No, I'm not that cruel."

"I'm sorry Doug, I didn't know it was going to actually hurt."

"That was a true pain in the ass."

"I can kiss it better, if you like?"

"Tonight." I said.

"Now I feel bad," she said. "Let me make it up to you tonight. We'll exchange one pain in the ass for another one. I've never done anal. I'd like to try," she was grinning at me, "what do you think, would you like to fuck me in the ass?"

We both looked down at my sweatpants which were bulging at the front and broke out laughing.

"I take that as a yes!" she howled.

I hugged her. When our laughing subsided I gave her a kiss. "What are you going to wear for Sunday dinner?" I asked as I held her in my arms.

"I'll sort myself out, don't you worry.

"Did you really think that I tried to humiliate you?"

"I didn't know what your motivation was. Now I know." She hugged me tightly as smiled as she looked up.

"I didn't need to go through a frikkin' Spanish Inquisition, you could have just asked."

"I hadn't planned on it. I just wanted to suck your cock with my finger in your hot ass. It didn't quite work out that way."

"No and in the end, you're going to get it - in the end." I let her go, opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

"I should get you to pour this into my ass."

"Go peel some potatoes," she said.

I pulled out the bag of potatoes.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," she said, "you had a call on your house line while you were in the shower. She handed me the note. Her handwriting was perfect, girly even.

Your neighbor Jim called.
Jim and Julie Cavanaugh are going to the Caribbean tomorrow for 16 days. They'll be back on the Wed.
Please keep an eye on the property. You have keys to get in if you have to. No deliveries are expected. Please pick-up mail and newspapers.
Gomez and Lulu will be in the kennel.

"This doesn't make sense," I said.

She grabbed the note and reread it. "It makes perfect sense to me," she had a questioning look in her face.

"Jim is my neighbor. Great guy," I said, pointing my thumb to the left, "that's his house right there."

She stared at me.

"Julie is his neighbor, on the other side. You know the big house two doors down?"

"Yeah?"

"She's a widow. Her husband died four or five years ago."

"So?"

"He's married, his wife's name is Cora."

She just stood there.

"Why the hell would the two of them be going on holiday?"

"I don't know. Maybe they've got a thing going." She suggested.

"Very strange goings on around here," I answered.

"And this is coming from a guy that just got a figging?"

*

I sat on the couch reading the Sunday paper and drinking a beer. I had my new dress shirt and my new pair of slacks on. She came down the stairs. Black high heel shoes appeared first, followed by black see-through shiny stockings, a skinny black skirt to just above her knees, her sleeveless white cotton blouse had holes cut out to permit her boobs to garishly stick out. The nipple rings contrasted to the nipples and areola which were painted bright red. Her lipstick was the same bright red. Eye make-up was way over the top in a combination of black and red.

Somehow the tattooed arm fit right in.

The overall look was something she had clearly contrived for herself. She did a masterful job. My cock pressed in my pants.

When she made it the bottom of the stair she did a slow pirouette. The stockings had a vertical line down the back of each leg.

She looked like a complete vamp, a total slut. My cock jumped up immediately, pressing further into my pants. She was my own private, walking fuck-fest.

"Wow!" I said, standing up to adjust my cock. I held out my hand. "Don't you look absolutely delicious?"

She smiled demurely and held out her hand to take mine. I could smell perfume. She had fake nail extensions, painted bright red.

"Anal cherry red," she said. "Do you like it?"

"I love it," I answered enthusiastically.

She walked off swaying her bum. "Ooo...the table is set nicely," she said.

I was the one who was trying to transform her? She had me squarely under her thumb and fake painted thumbnail. The fact of the matter was that I couldn't be happier.

I carved the roast beef and dished up the dinner for both of us. I held the chair out for her to sit. She had bought a new red candle stick. I lit it.

Sunday dinner was rare prime rib roast beef, roasted potatoes, roasted parsnips, Brussels sprouts, fluffy Yorkshire pudding and lots of rich thick gravy. A little dish of horseradish sat on the table.

The meat could be cut with a butter knife.

We both went back for seconds.

I had a hard time concentrating during the whole meal. Those bright red nipples were beckoning me, almost taunting me. She grinned every time she saw that I was staring. What a devious cunt.

"Sunday dinner," I said as we finished up the meal, "is now my most favorite time of the week." We stood to clear the plates away.

She looked over her shoulder back to me as she slowly rubbed her bum cheeks with her hands, "But you've not had your dessert yet."

"I am so looking forward to dessert."

"So am I," she smirked at me, "everything's ready. All clean."

"Wanna do dishes later?" I asked.

"Yeah, we'll need tissues and some olive oil," she replied as she walked off to the living room provocatively wiggling her ass.

Stepping into the living room I saw Caitlyn standing facing me, legs spread shoulder width apart. She had slipped her skirt off. The stockings were held up by a garter belt. She wore no panties. Her pussy was bare. Little pussy rings glistened underneath.

My cock popped to attention right away.

"Strip naked for me Doug," she cooed, "and then come and lick my pussy."

In about a nanosecond I was naked sitting on the floor below Caitlyn's crotch. I saw a smile of sweet satisfaction as she pulled the back of my head towards herself. I cupped her bum cheeks. I was suddenly overcome by her aroma and her taste. My tongue darted everywhere. I knew that I was supposed to be pleasuring her. I wasn't. That was all about me. I was being greedy, lost in the need for more and more Caitlyn juice.

Caitlyn was oblivious to my selfishness. Her hips rocked up and down and side to side as she pressed the back of my head. I could hear a low moan. After a few moments of self-indulgence I became cognizant of the fact that Caitlyn's thighs were quivering. She continued to press my head and flex her hips.

It really was my first opportunity to explore Caitlyn's pussy in the shaved condition. Earlier that afternoon, yes my tongue was there, but my mind was a little pre-occupied. Sitting there on the carpeted living room floor with my face surrounded by black stocking tops and her soft bum cheeks, I could really make out the difference that shaving caused. Every fold was smooth, silky, naked, almost more vulnerable. More intimate. I was loving it.

Her quivering had become a tremble.

I pushed my tongue as deep into her vagina as I could manage. From her bum to her clit I licked her with my tongue flattened. Just the tip of my tongue teased every tiny bit of her labia and then her clit. I collected more Caitlyn juice as a reward. I gently sucked on her clit.

"Aaaauugh," she jerked and pressed my face into herself. "Nnnaagghh" she jolted again. My chin was soaked. I kept sucking on her clit. "Haaagh" she gasped as she shuddered and let go of my head.

"I need to sit down," she said. I could see her face was red. Her chest was heaving. Apparently she liked that. She sat on the floor in front of me with her legs wide opened and her weight on her arms behind her. After her breathing normalized a huge grin washed across her face.

There's always something just a little bit ridiculous about porno films. The girl is naked yet is still wearing high heels. I'm afraid for the leather couch when I watch it. Yet watching Caitlyn on the carpeted floor wearing high heels, sexy black stockings held up with a garter belt and the blouse with the boob cut-outs was anything but ridiculous. She was sexy as hell! My cock was as stiff as can be.

She rolled herself onto her knees and pressed her chest and face to the carpet. She wiggled her bum and said, "Come on Doug, fuck my ass."

I didn't need a second invitation. Her bum hole was a pinkish brown. Little creases converged to a small opening. She flexed it out at me several times. I poured a little olive oil into my palm and smeared my cock with it. My lubed fingers found her bum hole. I tickled it with my finger. It flexed inwards in reaction. Just the tip of my index finger slip in momentarily. She wiggled her bum. With a bit more oil on my finger I smeared all around her anus and then pushed the finger in. At first to my second knuckle and then all the way in.

I wiggled and rotated my finger, "You okay?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," she replied, "feels funny. Different."

"Does it hurt?"

"No."

I oiled my finger again and pressed it back in, wiggling it from side to side. When I added a second finger Caitlyn's head came off the carpet and her back flexed.

"You okay?" I could feel her tighten on my fingers. I held them inside her.

She paused for a moment before answering, "Yeah."

With two fingers I twisted, flexed and pulled in and out. Her bum hole relaxed after a few moments.

"Feels nice," she said.

I pulled my fingers apart inside her bum while rotating my hand. She continued to relax.

I pulled my fingers out and wiped my hands on some tissues. Kneeling behind her I asked, "Ready?"

"Yeah."

As soon as my cockhead slipped in her head lifted off the floor again. I knelt motionless holding onto her hips. She lowered her head again. I watched her bum hole relax.

The urge to slam my cock into her was almost overwhelming. I had to control my emotions and think rationally. One screw up on my part and I could ruin my chances of having anal sex with her forever.

I pushed forward slowly. The skin of her anus followed. I slowly pulled back drawing her anal ring out. I pushed forward a little further and stopped. I watched her intently. I pulled back again and forward and slowly forward and back, each time watching her bum hole follow my glistening cock. I held for a few moments longer and then pushed forward until I was all the way in. She was tight around my cock. It was fantastic.

Caitlyn made no sound except for her breathing. I held my breath.

I swear I could feel her pulse on my cock.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded. Her face was pinkish red. What a trouper. I knew that she hurt.

I held my cock inside her motionless for a few moments. Slowly I slipped it in and out and side to side. She seemed to relax a little. With my cock all the way inside her I held myself motionless again.

Just a little, she pulled herself off my cock and then pushed back. After a moment she did it again. And then again.

What a delight to watch.

Slowly I started fucking her ass. What bliss. She started fucking back.

She shifted herself a little on the floor. I could feel the motion of her rubbing her clit.

That was all the green light I needed.

With each stroke the tempo increased. Not just mine. She was gyrating her ass into me as I fucked her. I couldn't believe that she was loving it.

The tell tale quiver in her thighs came back. My breathing was heavy but I paced myself. I couldn't believe how tight her ass was around my cock. Her face was red. Her eyes closed, nostrils flared.

I needed to hold off cumming until she did. It was a challenge. The sight of my cock plunging into her ass was too erotic. I tilted my head and gazed at the ceiling. That didn't help, it only focused my mind on the feeling of her sphincter on my cock.

Her quiver turned to a tremble. I knew she was close. I could feel her rubbing her clit with vengeance.

"Yeah...fuck...my...ass...yeah...yeahhh...Auuughhh!" Vise-like her asshole clamped down on my cock, I was fully inside her. Her back and belly arched upwards. She relaxed for a fraction of a second, "Auugggggh" again she clenched.

It was too much. I came inside her. My hips were out of control as I squirted over and over.

The room was filled with our combined guttural growls and sharp intakes of air. My spasms synchronized with her contractions.

I fell in a heap on her back. My motion pushed her bum forward so that she was face down on the carpet. I was lying on top of her with my cock still in her ass. We were both gasping for air. I moved slightly.

"No! Leave it in!"

I complied. I kissed her neck.

"That was fucking awesome," she said, "I like that."

I turned my face to the heavens above and mouthed a quiet thank you.

"You're awesome Cate," I whispered in her ear. I kissed her neck.

A few moments later my cock slipped out of her bum hole. Cum oozed out. Such a glorious sight.

"Shall I feed it to you?" I asked.

"Not from my ass, that's gross." Her index finger and red painted fingernail replaced my cock. She swirled it in and around her bum hole playing with the cum. I'm sure she wasn't aware that she was moaning in pleasure as she did it.

A few minutes later, for the first time, tissue was used to clean-up after sex.

I was still naked and she was still skirt-less as we cleaned up the kitchen.

I had my finger in her ass as I climbed the stairs following her up to the bedroom. The garter belt, stockings and heels perfectly framed her bum. She seemed to enjoy the finger, she certainly didn't complain.

*

The shop phone rang as we were having lunch the next day.

"Hello," I answered it.

("Doug, it's your sister.")

"Sally! How are ya?"

("I'm great. Don't worry nothing's wrong.")

"Where are you?"

(I'm at the airport. My connecting flight to Chicago has been delayed so I'm jumping in a cab to go see mum and dad. Can you meet me there? It would be really nice to see you too. I can only spend an hour there before I'll have to get back to the airport.")

"Okay, I'll meet you there."

("Great, I really miss you.")

"I miss you too. Love you. See you in about forty minutes."

I pulled my shop coat off, grabbed my keys and said "Caitlyn, I'll be back in about two or three hours. I've got my cell phone." I jumped in the pick-up truck and took off to see my sister.

From the airport she'd be at mum and dad's before I would.

She is married with three kids, my nephews and niece. Naturally, I'm always feeling guilty because I don't see my mum and dad often enough. But at sixty six and sixty seven, they're still doing okay. God bless them. Sadly I only rarely see my sister and her family.

We had a pleasant visit. It was very strange for just the four of us to be together, without her husband and her kids, although I love them all very dearly. I couldn't remember that last time it was just the four of us. We all hugged and kissed before my sister and I had to return to the real world.

I got back to the shop just before three. The black Yaris wasn't there. Caitlyn wasn't there. I called her cell. She didn't pick up.

Just after four, the shop phone rang.

"Hello," I answered it.

("Doug Jenner?")

"Yes?"

("My name is Dennis Progue, I'm Caitlyn's dad.)

"Is she okay, where is she?"

("She's in the hospital. She's been in an accident.")

"What?!...Is she okay?" My knees started to shake.

("She'll be okay, she's been banged up. Her car's a write off.)

"Oh my God." I needed to sit down. I was going to faint.

("What happened?")

"What do you mean? I have no idea." I was breathing heavy. How could he be asking me what happened?

("She's completely distraught, she ran through a red light and got t-boned, luckily on the passenger side. The mini-van that hit her is a write-off too, but it appears the woman who hit her is fine. Her air bags went off.")

"How bad is she banged up?" My world was going grey.

("A couple of broken ribs, some minor cuts, a bunch of bruising. Her head is fine, spine's fine. She's very shaken up. Why wasn't she at work and why did she run a red light?")

"I don't know. What hospital is she at?" With a bunch of deep breaths I knew I was going to be okay.

He told me.

"All I can tell you is that I went out and I was back three hours later and she was gone. That was completely unlike her. And she wouldn't pick up her cell phone when I called. I thought maybe she went for groceries or something. I was getting a little worried."

("I'm calling you from her cell phone right now. I think they might be discharging her tonight.")

"That's fine, I'm going to see her right now." I was panting.

Back down the highway I went shaking the whole way. I met Dennis and her mom Jenny standing outside the little room Caitlyn was in. They were obviously worried and upset.

Caitlyn had bandages on her face with traces of dry blood below. Her bottom lip was blue and swollen. The nose ring was gone. Clearly she'd had a nose bleed. She had a shiner in both eyes. Her right arm was in a sling. She had a neck brace pad around the back of her neck. There was something wrapped around her ribs below her sweater, which was bloody. Her pants were off and she had a big bandage on both knees and her right ankle.

Tears welled in my eyes. I thought I might faint.

"Caitlyn you poor thing." I leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Do you still love her?" she mumbled through swollen lips.

"What?"

"Sally. Do you still love her?"

Oh fuck.

"Caitlyn. My sister's name is Sally. I went to see my sister, not my ex-fiancé."

"What?!...Fuck off! Fuck right off! You fucking bastard!" She was shaking in the bed.

"Hey, don't be blaming me."

She started crying.

Dennis interjected, "What's going on?" Her mom looked like she was in shock.

I turned to face them both. "I had a fiancé named Sally. My sister's name is Sally too. My sister's connecting flight was delayed and she and I met for an hour at my parent's house this afternoon. Caitlyn overheard the phone call from my sister and thought I was talking to my ex-fiancé. None of that would matter, if your daughter wasn't desperately in love with me." I turned to look down to Caitlyn, "Isn't that true Caitlyn?"

Tears were streaming from her face as she nodded.

"Do you love her too?" Jenny asked, her face even more in shock.

I brushed Caitlyn's forehead, there was dry blood in the hairline. "I do, but not when she's stupid like this." I smiled at her.

She tried to smile back through her blue swollen lip. Tears were still flowing.

"Are they going to discharge her tonight?" I asked Dennis.

"That's what they said," he answered, "the Doctor's going to come by one more time."

"Should we let Caitlyn decide where she wants to go home to?" I asked.

"I think so Doug."

The three of us turned to look at Caitlyn. Through blackened, teary eyes she slowly raised her slinged right arm and pointed a crooked finger at me.

Thank you lord.

I looked around the little room. I could see her shop coat in a plastic bag next to the bed. "What happened to her pants?" I asked.

"They cut them off." Jenny answered.

"We'll need to buy her some sweatpants or something," Dennis suggested.

"No," I said, "I'm going to buy her a skirt. A flowery one."

"Fuck off!...fuuuuck offfff!" came the response.

Dennis said in a low voice to me, "I'm glad she's going home with you."

As we drove home Caitlyn asked, "Is it true?"

"It what true?"

"That you love me?" Her voice was a little hesitant.

"Yes, it's true. I love you Caitlyn."

"I love you too Doug." Tears were streaming down her face.
"Try not to move Cate."

"I'm sorry Doug."

"I'm sorry too. Thank god you're not seriously hurt."

"My car is a write off."

"So I heard."

We drove in silence for a minute or two. "Do you want another Yaris or would you prefer a pick-up truck? A pick-up truck would make more sense, business-wise."

"Can it be black?"

"No. Pink. Girly pink." I said.

"Fuck off."

I smiled. At least her spirit wasn't broken.

*

The next day we drove to her parent's house. She pointed to what she wanted packed up. It included synthesizers, keyboards, amps, speakers, a laptop and a whole lot of cable. All of that was going to go into the third bedroom. Her wardrobe was predictably almost all black. Most of her jewelry was that kooky silver stuff with skulls and crossbones. She hesitated before asking me to pack it up. Her clothes and stuff would go into the second bedroom. There was a box in the back of her closet she asked me to retrieve. I noticed there was something pink and rubbery inside, definitely destined for our bedroom.

She was only off work for two days. Hurting and banged up she carried on in the shop. The same rules applied. The shop swan remained professional with a good work ethic. The house swan a brilliant, but demented whacko. And a good cook.

Unfortunately for the next week or so, there was no sex. The broken ribs just hurt too much.

*

I was able to confirm that it was the alcohol that helped trigger her carnal cravings. I made sure that there was always plenty of beer, wine and liquor, including gin for martinis, in the house.

Sex continued to be fabulous. Sometimes I would tie her down. It didn't matter if I fucked her pussy, her throat or her ass, or all three. She loved it no matter where. She never tired of eating my cum, as long as it didn't come out of her ass. I could never get enough Caitlyn juice. I never did let her tie me down again.

Like everything else about Caitlyn, her early Christian synth music was brilliant. She needed it to get away from me and the shop sometimes. The third bedroom became her private space.

Not only was Caitlyn my employee and my lover, she became my best friend too.

The face metal never came back. Her hair grew out brown. The Goth look was gone forever, but was never really replaced with flowery dresses. I got used to the tattoos. After awhile, I didn't even see them.

Business improved and expanded. I made her my equal partner.

Then my wife.

Caitlyn came off the pill. It was no big deal really, with her cum fixation not much sperm was ever exposed to her uterus anyway. We made the conscious decision to have a baby.

When she thought the time was just right she asked, "Can we do it like we did the first time? I want to feel you come inside me."

There is something fundamentally different about making love to someone and making love to someone you are actually in love with. There is equally something different about making love to someone you are madly in love with, with the intent of creating a baby. Somehow foreplay seems superfluous. The psyche is already tuned in before the first article of clothing is shed. Every nerve is on fire. The entire experience is carnal, organic, built into our DNA. Genes are expressing themselves, we are just their instrument.

No orgasm could possibly be stronger.

That night we fucked in missionary position. Caitlyn came hard and long. I lay still, ready to explode. When her contractions subsided, I let go.

Tears flowed from Caitlyn's eyes as I did. We lay kissing for the longest time. Eventually my spent and shriveled cock slipped out. Caitlyn pinched her pussy shut and fell asleep smiling.

We decided to name the child Maxwell if a boy, Maxine if a girl. Either way, Max.

When we noticed the swell in her belly, the belly button piercing disappeared. A week later the nipple and pussy rings disappeared.

The transformation was complete.

I had hoped to change her into a self-confident ordinary woman.

I didn't.

She became a self-confident, extraordinary woman.

Caitlyn turned out to be nothing like what I'd expected.

*

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Thanks, sincerely;

eclare