The Hypno-Orgasm Seduction
by Epic Sex Stories

Like most single moms, I would do anything to support my kids. As a Vegas stripper, I have. I put myself on my book covers to remind me what inspired that epic sex story. You wouldn't believe half of the shit that I've seen or done. 

Get my 100+ FREE SEX NUDES by searching for Epic Sex Stories on Flickr.com, Fotki.com, or NudeShare.com (change search filter to adult content) and send a link to your friends, along with a link to my books so they can get my FREE EROTICA. I always give away several ebooks, so bookmark my page. In return, please buy several books so I can quit stripping. Thank you for supporting a struggling writer.  This book ends with excerpts from all my stories.  Continue to see me on all of my book covers.

Copyright © 2012 by author Epic Sex Stories    
Published by Smashwords for author Epic Sex Stories
This story is fiction.  Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.  All rights are reserved.  Except for book reviews, no more than four paragraphs can be reproduced without written permission from the author.  

EXCERPTS:  
"I can't masturbate.  I'm like a quadriplegic with a chronic erection."  
"Hypno-orgasms are several times more intense.  When a man is over-excited, he cums too soon, but when a woman is over-excited, she cums more often.  So I can not only take you to the summit, I can take you there repeatedly.  It's the safest sex you'll ever have."  Completely stressed out, Emily stared at him like a cow about to be tipped over.  Then he smiled that awesome smile of his and she fucking melted like cheese on an omelet.
Something vibrated in his pants and it wasn't his beeper.  She hooked him like a fish; he could practically taste the metal in his lip.  	In an ironic twist, the hypnotherapist was the one in the deep trance, and in need of some therapy.
Men cannot fall in love with women they do not find attractive, and women cannot fall in love with a man they do not respect.  
He covered her tongue with cum as she continue to bob on his pole, determined to take every pez from his dispenser.  Her tongue must have a Taser attached because it sent jolts of electricity up his spine.  Some of his juice spilled on her chin, so she scooped it up, sucking her fingers like a chicken wing.  
A man in a suit is like a woman in lingerie.  
"Men get laid by convincing women that they want more than sex."  
"What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you?"  "As a kid I once fell face-first into a fresh pile of steaming doodoo.  And let me tell you, it tasted like crap!"  She slapped his arm for pulling her leg, but couldn't help laughing.  "On the one hand, I owed my mother’s meatloaf an apology but, on the other hand, it remains the best shit I've ever had."
"I want to nibble on your earlobes."  Her hands flew to her ears and she laughed at how silly she must have looked, with her elbows pointing at him like guns over the dinner table.
"I'm getting tits?  Do you have any idea how much that changes a girl's life?  Breast implants for a woman are like a man becoming six inches taller." 
That's what they now called it: the Orgasm Room, because it reeked of sex all day, every day.  
Guys who say all pussy is the same are idiots.  Every pussy -- like every love -- is unique.  Some may feel equally good, but that does not make them the same.  A man can hate a woman and still love the sex, but that does not mean his feelings don't color the experience.  
Even before she heard his message on her voice mail, her legs started trembling.  With his trigger words, she collapsed on the campus lawn as another powerful orgasm shook her body like a baby rattle.  Her body cruelly responded on cue as her pelvis bucked wildly, saturating her blue jeans.  She had no idea how loud she screamed, but apparently the entire campus heard her.  
He made it his purpose in life to perfect the art of cunnilingness.  Unfortunately, while men prefer feedback, women expect mind reading.  But now her pussy was like a home security system: once he learned the code, he could make it scream anytime he wanted.  
Her scream vibrated his cock, still in her mouth, before pounding his ear drums and threatening the windows.  It lasted forever, too.  Bill could belch the alphabet quicker.  It struck like a thunderstorm, charging the room with electricity.  His home was not so much silent, as stunned, by her scream.  
A dozen pairs of hands applauded.  Emily looked around the yacht to see the entire fucking crew cheering her.  Flattered, she stood up to give them a better view of her naked body, never guessing she had an exhibitionist streak.  Or that she would now star in an orgy.
Emily turned around and gasped at the size of the cock.  Good thing she didn't look up because that dude must have had anti-cosmetic surgery cuz nobody can be born that hideous.  Beauty may be in the eyes of the beholder, but ugly is universal.  She pushed him into the nearest chair and worked her way down his pole.  God must have awarded this guy a huge cock as compensation for shortchanging him on everything else.
Richard took close-ups of his brother taking two dicks at a time while giving running commentary.  "I always knew little Willy had too much girl in him.  Look how he tackles that bait.  Take it like a man, bro.  Be a good girl and swallow."
The cock in his mouth suddenly enlarged and Bill realized that he was about to get a mouthful of cum.  Terror filled him.  He tried to get up, but the guy banging his ass rested his weight onto Bill's back, pinning him in place.  Two strong hands gripped his head and Bill braced for a homo's delight.  Then the cock exploded and cum blocked his air passage, forcing him to swallow.  His initial reaction?  Not fucking bad.  Thick and salty, like leftover oysters.  
When the priest pronounced them husband and wife, a beast the size of Mt. Everest must have burst out of Emily because her scream lifted up to the heavens with a roar that would have made a T-rex piss himself.  Her voice flew up octaves, only to climax with a shattering of every window in the fucking cathedral.  The happy bride just had a body-wrenching orgasm that left her unable to stand or speak.  The video on YouTube would soon become famous as The Greatest Orgasm Ever.








CHAPTER 2 1

Emily entered the elevator nervous as hell, her claustrophobia cutting off her oxygen.  Good thing she drenched herself in body spray because the elevator smelled like a fart in the shower.  Fear magnified the mechanical noises as the door shut her in.  Her hands shook and it took all of her self-control to not hyperventilate.  The textbooks in the brunette’s backpack cut into her shoulders from walking so far from the university.  The tiny space grew smaller with every breath.  Desperately she suppressed the urge to scream.
Emily was suppose to be getting laid right now, not seeking a shrink.
An eternity later, the doors opened on the seventh floor to show two guys talking.  The earnest-looking suit gave the chubby one pointers.  Thankfully, neither looked at her as she stealth-walked out and around them towards the empty receptionist desk.  Fattie looked close to crying when he suddenly hugged the suit like an alien on Sigourney Weaver.
"Thank you so much, Dr. Cooper," the crybaby said as he left in the elevator.
That shocked Emily.  "You're Dr. Cooper?"  She would soon be sorry she said it with so much astonishment.  It's just that she expected an old bald guy with a belly.  Not the well dressed cutie suddenly sizing her up.
His jaw dropped when he saw her, so she figured spending two hours doing hair and makeup wasn't a total waste of time after all.  Usually, Emily dressed to blend in, to not be noticed, but today she had a big date with a total stud that ended horribly.  She wore tight shorts and a half-top to show off her athletic figure, as opposed to the loose tents she normally used to conceal herself.  It had the desired effect, meaning her date totally desired her.  Then he tried to kiss her and she fled like Scooby-doo.
Emily felt like such a loser.  She couldn't see any light at the end of the tunnel.  As her mother once warned her, "things are never so bad that they can't get worse."
"I'm older than I look," the suit said, which Emily later learned was a total lie.  She correctly pegged him as early thirties, tops.
She now realized this man stood between her and the elevator.  Panic spiked her pulse rate.  The psychologist must have sensed it, as he moved away and sat down on one of the waiting room chairs, looking as harmless as possible.  He didn't even try to shake her hand, which she noticed because all guys wanted to shake her hand.  Emily stealth-walked towards the stairs, regretting coming here.
"I can help you," he said conversationally.  "That is, after all, what I do for a living."
She had been walking backwards to keep her eyes on him, which must have looked ridiculous.  With the stairs within reach, Emily got control over her breathing back.  She hated feeling trapped.
"Help me with what?" 
His smile was so reassuring that he must have practiced it in the mirror.  Most guys try to look seductive when they smile.  This dude wanted to appear non-threatening.  And it fucking worked.
"It took a lot of courage for you to come here alone so spontaneously.  You didn't make an appointment, or someone would have come with you so, before you go, why don't you tell me what happened."
That stopped her.  Not just physically, but psychologically.  Emily saw him for the first time, and the more she looked, the more she liked.  Lots of guys are tall and well-built, but he projected maturity and inner strength that drew her like a moth to a flame.  And it didn't hurt that he didn't wear a wedding ring.  He had crossed a leg to let Emily know he didn't plan on chasing her, and his face expressed infinite patience.  Buddhist statues appear more irritable.  That's when it hit her: he knows.  Emily didn't know how, but he fucking knows.  After a lifetime of clueless men, she finally found a mind reader.  The stress from her awful date spiked.  Her bubble burst and the contents spilled out like a pregnant lady whose water broke:
"I just fucked up another great relationship before it started.  Derrick would have been perfect for me, and I blew it.  Several years ago one of my mother's many boyfriends brutally raped me.  Testifying at his trial ruined my best teenage years.  To this day I can't stand to be touched.  My chest tightens, my heart races, my palms sweat, my brain shuts down, and I get dizzy.  I faint several times a year from people brushing up against me.  The local Wal-Mart fucking hates me.  I couldn't get on a crowded bus if my life depended on it.  I have to be sedated just to let the doctor or dentist work on me.  Since I turned 21 a few months ago, I have been drinking heavily -- despite all the valium I take -- and the prospect of turning into an alcoholic like my mother scares me like AIDS.  I hate myself more than I can express in words."
"Then you've come to the right place," he replied, looking deliciously serious.  "You can unclench your fists now, because you're gonna be okay."
She looked down at her hands and laughed.  Emily felt so silly, even though he didn't appear the least bit judgmental.
"Have you been a hypno-therapist long?" she had to ask, since he seemed too young and hot to be a therapist.  He belonged in a soap opera, not an empty office building.
"For several years now.  I am licensed by the state as a clinical psychologist and have practiced hypnosis for most of his life.  My mother is a psychiatrist and my father a comedy hypnotist, so I grew up with it.  That's actually how they met: she didn't believe hypnosis worked, so he had her strip to her undies and do the chicken dance on stage, in front of all her friends.  To this day she loves flashing him her breasts and thighs.  Do you believe hypnosis can help you?"
Emily smiled at him for so long that she finally caught her breath.  Does he have any idea how fucking cute he is, she wondered.  "Yes."
"Good.  Because if you believe, you belong.  I have found that hypnosis can take years off of traditional talk therapy.  Check out my trophy wall."
Emily walked over to study the diplomas and certificates.  She had no idea what some of them meant, like neuro-linguistic programming.
"I can't afford therapy," she finally confessed, feeling like a fool.
"There's a story of a guy on a window ledge about to jump to his doom.  Through the window, a therapist says he can help him, but the guy claims he cannot afford therapy.  The therapist says, 'You cannot afford not to have therapy.'  Let me worry about payment.  The hard part was coming here.  Getting better is much easier."
"I can't."
Indeed, she looked ready to sprint the next time the elevator doors opened, and it had nothing to do with her ability to pay.
"In the movie, Mission to Mars, astronauts discover an alien structure.  When Connie Nielson and Don Cheadle ask if they should go in, Gary Sinise says, I didn't travel 100 million miles only to stop 100 feet from my destination."
"Why would you see me when I've told you I can't pay?"
"I use two criteria when accepting clients.  One is ability to pay, and the other is ability to benefit.  I think I can help you.  We can worry about compensation later.  Besides, the initial consultation is free.  You tell me your problem, I tell you how I can help, then I usually do a quick hypnosis so the client can see that he or she is fully aware of what is going on under hypnosis.  Some people mistakenly believe they lose control under hypnosis.  If that were true, hypnotists would rule the world."
His willingness to work for free blew her away.  In a world crowded with selfish, superficial, materialistic pricks, she found that rare individual who just wanted to help others.  "You won't turn me into a chicken?"
She absolutely loved his carefree laugh.  Oh, she wished she could laugh like that.  "My father used to do that all the time with his comedy show.  Unfortunately, it only works with people who crave attention.  That's why he would only accept the most enthusiastic volunteers from the audience -- because it won't work on anyone else."
"Can you really make someone forget a number?  I saw that on TV."
His hearty laugh put her at ease.  Later she learned that he practiced that, as well.  
"A hypno-therapist needs to test how effective the client takes suggestions.  If I ask you to forget the number after 3 and before 5, and you can't remember the number 4, then I know the hypnosis is working.  But you'll remember as soon as you are out of hypnosis.  There is never any danger.  You are completely safe with me."
He should be in sales because she totally fucking believed him, and Emily doesn't believe anyone.  Especially men.	With relief she took off her heavy backpack and let it hit the floor with a loud thud.  
"I hope I'm not too safe with you."  She immediately kicked herself for saying what she was thinking.  

CHAPTER 2

Bill tried not to recoil when Jerry hugged him.  The divorce triggered compulsive over-eating that was frustratingly resistant to hypnotherapy.  While obesity, because it involves many factors like genetics, behavior disorders, and environmental reinforcers, took much longer, and therefore paid better, he preferred smokers trying to quit.  It didn't pay as well, but he enjoyed a lot more success with it.  As someone who prided himself on his ethics, Bill Cooper only accepted clients who could benefit from his help.  And the very rich.
From the corner of his eye he noticed someone get out of the elevator, but he couldn't look away while a cash-rich patient thanked him so enthusiastically.  Not until the elevator doors closed did the newcomer get his attention.
"You're Dr. Cooper?"
Insulted at her astonishment, Bill turned and nearly peed himself at the sight of her.  He found many women stunning, but none had ever literally stunned him before.  Nice fucking abs!  Her long jet-black hair, dark eyes, and caramel skin overwhelmed his senses, but it was her face that really did him in.  What a fucking face!  He instantly liked everything about her -- except her sense of panic.  Hell, she even smelled good enough to eat.  Which reminded him that he worked through lunch and was starving.
It didn't take three psychology degrees to see she was about to bolt, so he moved away from the exit and sat down, rather than trigger her fight-or-flight response.  He almost laughed as she walked backwards to the stairwell, as if he was a lion about to pounce on her.  He threw out some cheese to see if she'd nibble.  As she relaxed enough to actually tell him her problem, she began to confirm his suspicions that she was freakin' awesome.
The poor assume the rich always have it easy.  The ugly assume the beautiful sail through life.  Yet everyone has problems.  Bill's problem was falling for beautiful-but-fucked up women.  Is there any other kind? he often wondered.  His mother liked to say that Bill's problem is not that he meets fucked up women, but that he asks them out.
Hence, her problem triggered his problem, because he had already married two total hotties, thinking he could fix them.  Instead, he learned that -- just like you cannot teach kids who don't want to learn -- you can't fix people who prefer to stay broken.  Sometimes, like Charlie Sheen, they turn the corner and get their lives back.  Other times, like Charlie Sheen, they fuck up their lives soon after fixing them.  Two expensive divorces made him hypersensitive to repeating the same mistake a third time.  He had already vowed that his third marriage would be his last.  It's why, since the divorce, he only dated the fuckable who were not marriage-able, because he could not afford another broken heart.
As a lifelong student of human behavior, Bill read people pretty good.  That was, after all, his job.  And if he read her correctly, the new girl was both deeply damaged, yet had a hell of a lot to offer the right guy.  Yet he didn't want to fall into his old traps of falling first, and trying to fix later.  He didn't want to pull a Dick Cheney and fire first, then aim later.  Instead, he would have to fix her first, then open his heart.
Easier said than done.
He knew he could help her.  What he didn't know is if he could fix her without falling for her.
"I need to fill out this form before we go on," he told her, lying his ass off as he scribed on a blank piece of paper.  "What's your full name?  Are you married?  Do you have kids?  Smoke?  Tattoos?  Who do you live with?  Have you ever had professional help before?"
In just a few minutes they eliminated the most common deal breakers and Bill knew he was fucked.  As Emily's face became more animated, he couldn't help but like her more than he should.  She was a gem, a treasure to make up for all the crap he had been through.  A decade older, he knew he should not get his hopes up, but her mere presence filled the room.  She made him feel more alive, and hoped she didn't realize how much leverage she had over him.  That was the problem with his ex'es: they knew how nice a guy Bill was, and exploited it like car salesmen.  
Boy, once she starts talking, she doesn't shut up.  Which made Bill's job that much easier.  Of course a college student didn't have the money for therapy.  Not one dressed like that.  So she was just here hoping to get cured during the free consultation.  Yeah, good luck with that.
Still, they either had a lot of chemistry or he should find another line of work.  He couldn't believe how much he enjoyed the sight of her booty as she walked down the hall to his office.  Bill knew he found a diamond in the rough, and hoped he got a chance to polish her.
He liked how she looked at him.  She addressed him with respect.  It always surprised Bill how little respect he got from friends and family because he didn't make six figures a year.  He didn't feel like a failure, but neither did he look like a success.  Hell, he was still paying off his student loans!
Unlike his brother at Goldman Sachs, who makes a fortune screwing people and is therefore considered a genius.
Emily could be the one, Bill soon realized.  Which was a big problem because it made not falling for her that much harder.  Another guy could kick his ass or burn down his home, but a woman could fucking destroy him.  Two women already tried.  Three, if he counted his mother.
Why did Emily have to be so damn wonderful?

CHAPTER 3

In his office she sank into his unbelievably comfortable reclining chair and noticed that he did not close the door.  A Mexican cleaning lady listening to ranchero music -- Vicente Fernandez, it sounded like -- vacuumed nearby, in case Emily had to scream for help.  
He could tell she was about to freak out, so he opened with an easy one to get her going.
"Tell me about this great guy you like."
"Derrick's awesome.  Smart, fun, funny, sexy, athletic, piercing eyes, strong hands, rich.  He seems to know everyone worth knowing."  Emily pictured him in her mind.  "I've had enough fantasies about him to start a virtual porn studio.  He says he would be very good to me if I became his girlfriend."
"Do you want to become his girlfriend?" Dr. Cooper asked.
"Oh, yes!  I'm so tired of being alone.  I can't even masturbate.  I'm like a quadriplegic with a chronic erection.  I once let a hot lesbian have her way with me and she couldn't even get me wet.  I tensed up so much my back hurt for a week.  I can only fantasize if I smoke pot, and even then I freeze long before I get to the good stuff.  I can't receive a therapeutic massage from an old lady.  I avoid crowded hallways like Ebola.  Believe it or not, before the rape I trained to become an opera singer, yet now I can't even perform in front of people.  I took the G.E.D. at 15 just to get out of high school early and now I take as many classes online as possible.  I can't even let my dear step-father hug me, and that senior citizen is a fucking saint.  He's paying my outrageous tuition, instead of taking my mom on luxury cruises.  Living without human contact is driving me crazy.  And alcoholic."
"You're not crazy," he reassured her.  "Trust me.  I've been married twice, so I know."  As opposed to having three degrees in psychology or having her take the MMPI.  "You're having a normal reaction to an abnormal experience.  Some psychological scars don't go away without special help.  But that's where I come in.  With hypnosis, I can help you replace those painful memories.  Not suppress them, but put something else in their place.  For example, instead of him abusing you, you kick his ass, castrate him, whatever you want -- and your unconscious will replace the old memories with the new ones we create.   Your subconscious doesn't care what your conscious self believes, letting us replace miserable non-fiction with happy fiction.  The conscious part of you will know that you were abused, but the subconscious part will remember kicking his ass, instead.  Then I can use hypnosis to make you orgasm -- without ever touching you."
Emily remained dubious.  "How will I know I am cured?  I can't date Derrick until I'm know I can have sex with him.  Since he saw me dressed in so little," -- she mischievously waved her hands over her fantastic body -- "he wants to fuck me bad."
"I know how he feels," the psychologist almost said.  "I can prove you are cured by giving you a hypno-orgasm.  You stay fully clothed and I never touch you.  No matter how much you beg me."
He instantly regretted adding that last part, but Emily latched onto the first part.  "Hypnosis is just talk, right?  How can you talk me into an orgasm?"
"Hypnosis puts you into a state of suggestibility.  After we've replaced the bad memories, you will walk me through your best fantasy and I will -- how should I phrase this? -- stoke the coals along the way.  Your heart will palpitate, your palms will get sweaty, and part of you will get really wet."
"You've done this before?"
The magnificent bastard laughed.  "Oh, yes.  On a few hundred ladies since I learned the technique as a teenager.  My ex-wives loved them."  Too much, he didn't mention.  "They'd soak a folded beach towel, straight through their blue jeans.  Right in that chair.  I needed both hands to wring the excess fluid into the sink.  It worked so well that we mistakenly based a marriage upon it."
Emily found that hard to believe.  "They came so much you had to wring the towel with your hands?"
He looked at her hard with those gorgeous blue eyes.  "One time I had to use a mop."
Until now, Emily never had a problem determining when people were joking, but he dropped the line with such a straight face that she didn't know what to believe.  Which is what he wanted, since pulling her out of her comfort zone made putting her into hypnosis that much easier.  Emily had no idea the hypnotherapy already started.  Her critical mind obviously assumed he was kidding, but her subconscious believed whatever crap it was told.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded, suddenly flopping around in the chair, staring at her own crotch.  "It moved, man!  It fucking moved like an alien in my stomach.  Except from my groin."
"If you have an alien growing there, I should get a camera for when it bursts out."
Her head in a fog, completely stressed out, Emily stared at him like a cow about to be tipped over.  Then he smiled that awesome smile of his and she fucking melted like cheese on an omelet.
"You've made me wetter in just a few minutes than that hot lesbo did all night long."
"I've made some women cum so hard that their legs turned to jello.  It's why I keep whip cream handy."
"Okay, now you're just bragging."  Still, she couldn't stop laughing.  This whole therapy thing may not be so tough after all.  She assumed it would be a bunch of psycho-babble bullshit.
"You are in good hands."
She pointed to his strong hands.  "You bastard!" she said with a smile.  "You know how much I want to be touched.  After you cure me, I want you to give me a full body massage.  I want you to touch me everywhere."
Emily discovered she loved teasing him.  Then she pictured him nude while giving her that massage.  Somewhere in her bowels, a pilot light starting warming her oven.  Then she noticed how uncomfortable she made him.  He even scooted his chair away from her.
"Doc, can you cure me?"
"I don't think you need to be cured.  Picture yourself as a lioness who grew up with a splinter in her front claw.  She can't walk right, hunt, or even defend herself.  All the other lions think she's weak, ridicule her, and exploit her, so she sees herself as weak, vulnerable, and inferior.  Then one day a really awesome hypnotherapist pulls the splinter out and, all of a sudden, she discovers she's just as strong and fast and brave as the bastards who tormented her.  After years of kicking names and taking ass, she's now kicking ass and taking names.  Once I replace your bad memories, you'll discover just how powerful you really are.  And you'll probably be giving me massages."
Emily playfully roared like the Lion King.  "Nice fucking metaphor.  But you can really make me cum with hypnosis?"
"After working through your traumatic experience, yes."
As a very pretty girl, Emily heard her share of bullshit, but this took the cake.  "That's like a fucking superpower!"
He laughed, and she laughed with him, totally comfortable.  She couldn't believe how relaxed she felt with him.  Not even pot could relax her this much.  Why couldn't they make a drug that made her feel this good?
"But it's more than an ordinary orgasm.  Hypno-orgasms generally last twice as long and are three times as intense.  As you have stronger orgasms, I magnify them.  Hence, the need for a folded towel to not ruin my expensive recliner.  And women can have several orgasms in a row.  When a man is over-excited, he cums too soon, but when a woman is over-excited, she cums more often.  So I can not only take you to the summit, I can take you there repeatedly.  Not infinitely, but until you dehydrate.  It's the safest sex you'll ever have."
That was the best damn sales pitch Emily had ever heard.  "You should be rich!"
He laughed.  What he couldn't afford to tell her is that half of his clientele came primarily for the hypno-orgasms.  After the last divorce nearly bankrupted him, it's how he saved up enough to buy that sweet foreclosure for half of its previous selling price.
"That's what I tell people who call themselves psychic.  Poor psychics should be as rare as unhealthy doctors."
"But I recoil when guys touch me, and you have no idea how much I want to be touched.  I often feel like I'm gonna explode."
"A therapist can only touch a patient so much."  Much as he would love to touch her.
He looked so yummy in his expensive suit.  She closed her eyes to imagine him massaging her.  "Are you married?  Do you have a girlfriend or kids?  Do you smoke?"
She heard him take a deep breath.  "If you must know, I'm twice divorced, without children or a girlfriend, and I don't smoke.  My divorces endured longer than my marriages, so my next marriage must last a lifetime."
A wicked thought crossed Emily's mind, and she fucking liked it.  She closed her eyes and swung for the fences.  "What if we weren't therapist and patient?  What if we were friends with benefits?  I'm sure you've used hypnosis to help friends before.  Hell, I bet you've used hypnosis to get laid.  At what point would it become ethical?"  A pregnant pause suddenly gave birth.  "Did I just tell a total stranger that I wanted to fuck him?"
"Excuse me?"  He asked, astonished.
"Oh fuck.  Did I really say that out loud?  Talking to yourself is one of the problems you get when you're always alone."
Now he was really uncomfortable.  Did she know, or was she just really good at guessing?  He found it unnerving that someone he just met nailed him so quickly where it hurt the most.  Talk about psychic.  Bill always believed some people were psychic.  They just didn't hang up signs and try to make a living out of it.
"Anything specific in mind?" he asked, afraid and eager to see where this went.
"Replacing traumatic memories is just the means to an end.  The goal of my therapy is to enjoy a healthy sexual relationship.  Which means I need someone to practice on."  She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.  She felt possessed by her slutty mother.  "My mother says the key to keeping a man is great sex.  Especially blowjobs.  She says I can't use my hands and that I must swallow, not spit.  And that I must love it, so that I do it for me, not just for him.  Well, I can't learn that overnight.  And a virgin sure as hell can't seduce a stud like Derrick.  I'd die of embarrassment for him to discover how ignorant I am in bed."
She heard him exhale real slow.  "You're right.  You suck at seduction."  
Emily opened her eyes and laughed freely now, way too comfortable with this man she just met.  The brunette gave him her puppy dog eyes.  She worked long and hard on those in the mirror.  Resist that, motherfucker!
"So I only get paid if the therapy is successful," he softly concluded.  "Can you cook?"
Oooh, she had him now!  "Hell, yes, I can cook.  I avoid restaurants, so I have to cook.  Hell, I'll cook for you every day.  That's the other thing mom says keeps a man happy."  Emily now returned the hard stare that he once gave her.  "I'd fucking love to make you happy."
Something vibrated in his pants and it wasn't his beeper.  If only she weren't so fucking cute.  Not just physically, but Emily radiated awesomeness.  Honestly, he didn't care about getting money from her.  He simply found her irresistible and wanted an excuse to see her often.  It's like that great line from the movie Clerks: "Dude, lots of girls are pretty, but how many make you lasagna?" 
"Just to be clear, you want to use me for sex until you're really good, then you're gonna leave me for someone younger, hotter, and richer."
Emily shrank in the plush chair.  She needed a good comeback.  "I've never been called a bitch so nicely before."  Nope, that was not what she was shooting for.  She finally found a guy worth marrying, and didn't want to fuck it up before it started.  That's what got her in this mess in the first place.  It's time to come out with the big guns.  
"My dad's death devastated my mother.  She drowned herself in booze and sex.  When one of those bastards molested me, I ran away and lived on the streets for a month.  That shock made her quit her bad habits.  I came back only on the condition that she never drink again.  She found God, then found a good man.  Much older than her -- my mom's pretty hot for her age, but she found a really good husband who treats her like a queen.  Well, I want what my mother has, but without having to kiss a thousand frogs to find my prince.  I hate to admit this, but my mom has fucked hundreds of guys.  Because of that, I'd like to spend my entire life with just one guy.  A man worthy of a lifetime.  The most precious thing in life is not money, but time, and the biggest factor in anyone's happiness is who they choose to spend their life with."
She lazily stretched her arms and legs to show off her naked legs and midriff.  Despite her low self-esteem, she knew Bill found her attractive, although she wished her boobs were two sizes bigger.  The sight of his boner was the most flattering thing any man has ever communicated to her.  That inspired her to drop the hammer:
"I want you to use hypnosis to make me fall in love with you.  Just in case the great sex isn't enough."
Bill almost wished she weren't so fucking appealing.  He liked her too fucking much.  And as for the body...  "How did you get into such great shape?"
"I jog a lot, bicycle, rollerblade, lift weights, and aerobicize.  It's how I deal with stress.  Just imagine how long I can last in bed.  After you cure me."
"You seem confident that the sex will be awesome."
She searched his eyes.  "I am very confident the sex will be great.  But, to be sure, you must use hypnosis to train me to please you, in every way you wish to be pleased.  Oral, anal, full body massages.  I will do anything to satisfy you, and I will do it as often as necessary to keep you satisfied."
Instead of silence, a Vicente Fernandez song filled the room from down the hall: "No tengo trono ni reina, ni nadie que me comprenda, pero sigo siendo el rey!"  "I don't have a throne or queen, or anyone who understands me, but I'm still the king."
Bill felt light-headed.  She hooked him like a fish; he could practically taste the metal in his lip.  Oh, this girl was good.  She read him like a book and could quote chapter and verse.  And, damn it, that was his job!  He met his match and the prospect thrilled him.  If he played this right, he could spend the rest of his life with this vixen.
Afraid she would lose him by chickening out, Emily went for the kill.  "I want to prove it to you.  I want you to jack off into my mouth."
Indeed, stretched out in the recliner, her mouth was at waist level. It reminded him of what his father once told him: "Younger men want to replace masturbation with sex, but older men want sex in addition to masturbation."  You can't always have it all, but there's no law against trying.
In an ironic twist, the hypnotherapist was the one in the deep trance, and in need of some therapy.  He uncrossed his legs and his throbbing hard-on attempted flight.  
"Talk about a superpower," he mused.
"Please let me see it."
The begging tone in her voice matched the expression on her face.  He had seen many a horny woman, but this girl was on fire.  He stood up and towered over her.
"If you free him, he will be yours."
He didn't understand why he phrased it like that, but it worked.  Emily sat up and touched his crotch through the trousers as if they housed Faberge eggs.
"I've never done anything like this before," she whispered, getting hotter by the minute.  Indeed, an hour ago she would have assumed she wasn't capable of doing it.
"It's time to find out just how powerful you really are."
Equating personal power with desire set her free.  Her hands attacked his belt and pants.  He let his boxers drop and his eight inch sword sprang up, ready to duel.  She stared at it, her eyes huge.
"It's so beautiful."  Her words struck him because he had never thought of his cock that way.  He was just glad it wasn't curved like a banana like his brother's, because that's just fucking weird.   "Please!  I need to taste you."
It wasn't often that Bill could read minds, but he understood what she meant: a terrible taste would be a deal breaker.  
Many people assume falling in love happens automatically, but Bill believed that people choose who they fall in love with, and that people cannot fall in love with people who don't check off their list.  A man who refuses to raise someone else's kids will not fall in love with a single mother, regardless of how many of them he fucks.  Those who hate the smell of cigarettes will not fall for a smoker.  Few attractive women fall for unemployable losers and few rich guys fall for fat ugly bitches.  What's more, men cannot fall in love with women they do not find attractive, and women cannot fall in love with a man they do not respect.  Husbands do not replace wives that they still find sexy and wives do not leave husbands they still respect.
Adults who survive their first crush have a subconscious checklist, and will only fall in love with someone who can check off that list.  The more an individual has to offer, the longer and tougher the list.  A crack addict may only want someone who will share their addiction, while a rich man and a young hottie will demand much more from a mate.  Hotties may fuck down, but they marry up.  The actress Catherine Zeta-Jones, at the peak of her beauty and career, chose a husband a quarter of a century older instead of the hot pool boy.  In contrast, a man prefers youth because his peers will judge him, in part, on the attractiveness of his mate.  Plus, as Groucho Marx put it, "a man is only as old as the woman he feels."
Emily's mother apparently convinced Emily that she must swallow her man in order to keep him -- which would be news to most wives.  Bill certainly wasn't going to correct her.  But if she didn't like the taste of his juice -- and this was the catch -- she would not bother dating him, because she put tasty juice on her list.  In sales terms, you have to "qualify the prospect" because there's no point trying to sell something to someone who cannot buy it.  
Ironically, Bill didn't have a similar requirement.  Few men would marry a woman who hates giving head -- which is why girlfriends suck cock more than wives -- but blowjobs were not a deal breaker for Bill.  It was never an issue.  His two ex-wives were crazy, but not prudes.
Bill wished he didn't see things so clearly: Emily wanted to swallow him to decide if he was marriage material; if she didn't like how he tasted, she would not fall in love with him.  Worse of all, who the fuck likes the taste of cum?  Even gays gave sperm mixed reviews.
With all this clouding his mind, Bill spanked his monkey until he cried, hoping the cleaning lady didn't walk by.  He side-stepped to slam the door closed, then his hand went into high gear.  Emily, laying nearly flat, never took her eyes off his penis.  She couldn't wait.  Hell, he couldn't wait.  The suspense was killing them, yet he was masturbating as fast as humanly possible.  The audible smack - smack - smack sounded loud in the office.  If only he could touch her or if she could touch him.
Emily, that fucking mind reader, suddenly pulled up her shirt and bra to show off her rack.  "Does this help?"
"Oh, fuck, yeah!"  They weren't big, but they were big enough.  Breast implants could turn her into a fucking Playboy model.
He lurched over her, his hand a blur.  It awed him how she stuck out her tongue.  The hunger in her eyes struck a nerve.  Oh, please God, make her like it!  Jesus, please, Jesus...
"Oh God!" he shouted, shooting directly into her open mouth.  Ah, crap, he almost yelled, as his second wad splattered against her cheek.  The white specks stood out against her jet-black hair and he prayed this didn't piss her off.  Cum, apparently, is hard to get out of hair.
Instead of screaming at him, Emily reached out and grabbed his cock with the authority of a call girl.  She slapped his hand away and pumped the penis while aiming it better than he did.  She gagged on the third shot, but quickly swallowed and stuck her tongue out for more.  He thought he ran out, but his last drop kind of fell, stretching a good two inches from the tip of his penis.  To his shock, Emily pulled him closer and licked it up like a lollypop.  Her tongue must have a Taser attached because it sent jolts of electricity up his spine.
If he was light-headed before, now he felt faint.
"That was awesome!" they both said at the same time, laughing comfortably together.
Emily looked immensely pleased.  Proud, even, as her tongue swirled around her mouth.  Unlike other women, she didn't run for the sink.  He wanted to congratulate her for touching him -- with her tongue, no less -- but the words got in the way.  He couldn't cum straight, much less think straight.  He finally sat down to get his shit back together, only for her to blow him away again by using a finger to clean up the cum on her face and suck it like a chicken wing.
"I want to suck you off every day for the rest of my life."
She may as well have Tased him for real, the way her words made him shake like an epileptic.  For those words to cross her mind blew him away.  He realized her need for his juice would wear off -- damn it! -- but the sentiment she expressed sounded sincere.  The way she continued looking at his dick suggested she couldn't wait to get more.  It took him a really long time to regain his composure, and the long delay only seemed to flatter her.  She didn't even cover her titties up, apparently pleased that he kept starting at her chest.
"Emily, I've been wanting to tell you something since the moment we met," he said seriously.  She raised shields and prepared to fire photon torpedoes.  "My name is Bill."
As always, her laughter warmed him all over.  Unfortunately, she still was not ready to shake his fucking hand.

CHAPTER 4

Reluctantly, Bill put his penis back in its package.  Emily seemed sad to see it go away.
"If you're my friend, instead of my patient, then we sure as hell can't do this in my office.  If I'm gonna be ravaging you soon, then the least I can do is buy you dinner and pretend we're dating."
Emily leapt out of the recliner, then jumped up and down.  Her bouncing tits hypnotized him.  The girl suddenly had lots of energy and needed to burn some off.  She couldn't stop looking at him and felt like she won the lottery.  
They floated on air as they chatted all the way to Panda Express.  There they talked long after their noodles grew cold, each looking for deal breakers.  Surprised that night fell so suddenly, Bill drove them to his place.  
"Nice fucking house!" was her first reaction, which pleased him immensely.
Emily walked in as if in a trance.  "I've never been to a guy's place before."  
"Come see the pool in the backyard where one day we can skinny-dip."
After a quick tour -- she loved the island in the kitchen -- Emily ran to the bathroom to pee.  Bill immediately tried to remember how long it had been since the bathroom had a deep cleaning.  Too long.  He needed to distract her.
"Don't worry about your safety.  We both know you could totally kick my ass."
She laughed through the bathroom door.  "Are you always this amazing?" 
"Yes."
He heard her chuckle and felt blood flow to his ego.  "All my life I've been called nice.  It's always the first thing that comes to mind.  Not smart or strong or cute.  Mothers approved of me so much that they tried to set me up with their daughters, which ruined any chance I may have had with them.  I once tried to become a total asshole, because that's what so many hot girls seemed to like, but just didn't have it in me.  So eventually I embraced my true nature.  I can't compete with bad boys or pretty boys, but wives and mothers adore me."
Emily got out and searched his apartment for the presence of a woman.  Nope.  She felt so relieved he lived alone.  "That's because they think you'd make a great husband and father."
Bill nodded his head.  "Women who want excitement look right past me, but women who need a friend latch onto me like lost puppies.  Before we go on, please call your mother so she doesn't worry about you.  Damn!  You see?  I did it again."  
"My mother is going to love you."
Afterwards, Emily plopped down into his hypnosis chair.  
“I don't think I can relax enough to be hypnotized."  
"Oh, I prepped you over dinner by mirroring your body language, even matching your breathing.  It's why you feel so light, carefree, and comfortable.  Do you remember touching my hand when you passed me the sweet-fire chicken?  Although we just met, you were so into our conversation that your eyes never left mine, yet I bet you can't remember what we talked about.  In fact, the last hour seems so elastic that you have no idea what time it is."
He watched her squirm as she studied her watch, her eyes never quite focusing.
"Your throat feels so dry that you need to swallow."
Sure enough, she swallowed while looking increasingly bewildered.  Part of the trick to hypnotizing someone was convincing them they were hypnotized.
"You're so relaxed that your left hand may seem glued to the chair.  It feels so heavy you can barely lift it.  And the more you try, the heavier it feels."  Emily panicked as she struggled to remove her skin from the leather.  "Of course, the more you resist, the more hypnotized you become; and the more you are hypnotized, the better you feel.  With each and every breath you inhale relaxation and exhale negativity: stress, anxiety, frustration, anger, resentment, and self-pity.  Feel the anxiety drain out of you, through the chair and into the floor.  Soon you may notice a warm sense of well-being spread from deep inside you, filling you up, like a mother's love.  That will push out the dark energy that holds you down and holds you back.  Take a moment to let it permeate you.  Soak up that love like a sponge.  People love you, you know, and you should bathe in it so their love can cleanse you of all bad things."
He waited until she no longer tried to lift her left hand.  Emily had never felt more helpless.  A part of her wanted him to ravage her before she could fight back.  
"I'd like you to imagine a piece of string around your right wrist tied to a big red helium balloon that pulls it up, higher and higher, into the air.  The heavier your left wrist feels, the lighter your right wrist becomes.  Up and up it magically rises, light as a feather, deepening your hypnosis." 
She looked shocked as her right hand rose seemingly on its own.  "How can my eyes be open if I'm hypnotized?"
"Lots of commuters do it.  It's called highway hypnosis.  If you have ever passed your off ramp because you were lost in thought, you were probably hypnotized.  Like everyone else, you like to think your conscious self is in control, but it's not.  Your subconscious and unconscious control you.  Hypnosis speaks past your critical thinking, directly to your subconscious, which is how I can help you with your problem.  Emily, what was the name of that wannabe rapist?"
"Bob."
"Really?  I was hoping for a scarier name."
I called him Screech because his constant smoking made his laugh sound like a cackle."
That made Bill smile.  He walked behind the recliner, alarming the hell out of her, but quickly came back holding a bright red aluminum bat.  He handed it to her before she started speculating.
"What's this for?" she demanded.
"For beating the crap out of Screech.  I release your hands and arms so that you can swing that baby just like you did all those years ago.  You may have forgotten beating him down, when he entered your room, but I'm gonna help you remember.  You see, he had no idea how strong and brave you were.  He mistook you for a helpless little girl, when actually you were a fucking badass.  During dinner you said you loved playing softball.  I want you to show me your home run swing.  Now, please remember hiding behind the door, red metal bat in hand, waiting for that fuckwad to learn his mistake.  How dark was your room that night?"
"Moonlight came through the window."
"Good, so you can see.  What sounds did you hear?"
"When I couldn't sleep, the tick-tock from the clock in the living room used to bug the shit out of me."
"Did anything smell that night?"
"Body odor.  I rarely bathed to make myself as unattractive as possible to him."
"You're right.  You do stink.  I want you to breathe in your stench, picture the moonlight illuminating part of the room, and hear that fucking clock through the walls.  Are you in position behind the door with the bat?  Because this pathetic fucker has no idea of the beatdown he's about to endure.  You may not remember clearly, but you hurt him pretty bad, although no worse than the failed rapist deserved.  Now close your eyes and walk me through how you surprised and crushed him so completely.  Don't forget how you put pillows under your blanket to fool him."
It was like he plugged her in, the way she suddenly glowed.  In the recliner, Emily gripped the bat with both hands while resting it against her shoulder.  She tensed up, lost in a false memory, ready to spring into action.
"I can hear the fat fuck.  Oh, I am gonna hurt him so bad, for every time he hit my momma and leered at me.  For all of those snide comments, that disgusting laugh, for all those times he brushed against me."
"Yeah, you totally fucked him up. You will release all the fear, frustration, anxiety, pity, and tension in your body, mind, and soul as you beat him to within an inch of his life.  You will vent all your rage in your surprise attack.  Remember, Screech is not a man, but a monster.  You will enjoy destroying him and you will feel no regret or remorse because this beast is just getting what he has long deserved.  You're not a victim; you're a fucking hero.  Now tell me how this massacre went down."
She closed her eyes and saw Screech so clearly.  "I noticed the door handle turn and adjusted my grip on the bat.  The moron sneaked in, staring at the bed.  I could tell he was drunk, as usual, by the clumsy way he moved.  He thinks he's so clever for waiting until my mom passed out, and assumes I will take his shit like my mother.  As soon as he cleared the doorway, I stepped forward and bashed him over the fucking head.  Blood spurts out and I laugh like a lunatic.  My bat is already swinging down, so I smash his closest knee so the bastard can't get away."
"Did the coward cry out in pain?" Bill asked.
"Yes, but he's cursing me, too.  He is so pissed."
"Then you better hit him again.  Maybe knock his teeth in to shut him up."
She swung, laughing, and Bill got a cold chill.  "Oh, yes, that did it.  Ooooo, I think I fractured his fucking jaw.  Now I'm kicking him in the face while beating him with the bat.  There.  I broke his nose."
"Don't forget his genitals.  Just because he never sexually abused you doesn't mean he won't try someone else, so you better bust his balls, just to be sure.  Who knows how many girls you are saving?"
Bill watched her swing the bat repeatedly, nearly hitting him.  "The coward keeps curling up like a baby, so I'm hitting his arms and legs.  Ah, now I got him!  Ooof, I scored a direct hit.  I think his ball sack exploded.  The pussy is whimpering now."
"Don't let up just because he's defenseless.  You're saving the lives of other girls by smashing him.  Hit him until your arms tire out.  Exhaust yourself and vent all your anger.  Tell him what you think of him.  Insult the maggot.  Show me how strong you are, and don't forget to scream at him.  Let him know how angry you are."
So she did, her screams echoing off the walls.  He assumed she exaggerated about studying to sing opera, but the power of her voice astonished him.  She was louder than his stereo turned all the way up.  
Being seated in a plush recliner did little to slow her down.  As if high on LSD, Emily whacked the footrest so hard that Bill worried she would break his expensive therapy chair.  Bill got tired just watching her, but he kept urging her on, knowing the deeper the catharsis, the better she'd feel later.
Finally spent, Emily lacked the energy to do more than just lay there.  The bat fell from her hands and she melted into the plush recliner.  Bill finally had the blank slate to rewrite her psychology.
"You are cured, Emily.  You can let go of all the hate, pain, and misery that you have held on to for so long.  
Imagine your mother apologizing for mistakenly bringing that bastard home.  Can you forgive her for whatever pain she may have caused you?"
"I forgive you, mama!  I love you so much!"
Emily cried with her entire body.
"If you could say anything to your dad, what would it be?"
"I miss you, daddy!  And I'm sorry I blamed you for leaving us.  It wasn't your fault that drunk crossed the center divider.  Oh, daddy, please forgive me for blaming you.  I'm so sorry!"
"Can you picture him, Emily?  He loves you so much.  What is he saying?"
The girl, eyes closed, stared at the lamp.  "He says he forgives me, and loves me, and misses us so much, but that one day we will be together again."
"I bet your dad wants you to be happy.  Probably nothing could make him happier than seeing his little girl happy.  Can you do that for him?  Can you let go of all the bullshit and start being happy?"
"Yes, poppy.  Yes, I'll be happy for you.  I swear!"
She lunged forward and put her arms around the space between her and the lamp.  
"The connection between you two is strong and will never break.  You can relax now, knowing that he will always watch your back.  Although you wish he didn't pass away, his departure has made you a stronger person."
Tear of joy flowed down Emily's face.

CHAPTER 5

Emily sank deeper into a warm trance, comfortable in her skin for the first time in years.  She had no idea how much longer Bill continued, but every now and then she felt her arms rise or heard herself repeat something.  It felt like an out-of-body experience -- without being out of body.  
Then came the delicious dreams.  Fantasies, really.  The first started with her giving Bill a strip tease.  Completely naked, Emily tore off Bill's clothes and dropped to her knees to suck his gorgeous cock.  Emily's mother warned her that she had to convince herself that she loved sucking cock -- and, boy, was she convinced.  She savored the memory of swallowing his seed in his office -- it was the naughtiest thing she has ever done.  She still couldn't believe she did it, and couldn't wait to do it again.
It thrilled her to do something after years of listening to other girls gush over detailed stories shared with knowing smiles.  Even ugly girls her age had done something with someone -- she felt left out, like the last one picked for the team.  The adult world is a club that excludes virgins.  It takes some serious baggage to turn 21 as a virgin.  Now Emily had her chance to make up for lost time, and she was determined to totally blow it.  Anyone who says you can't suck and blow at the same time has never been on their knees before a hard cock.
While she bobbed back and forth, one hand cupped his balls while the other fingered her own pussy with an urgency she had never known.  Emily had never masturbated before.  Oh, she tried many times -- she just never succeeded.  Not with the most potent weed.  It's like the opposite of what Mark Twain once said: "Quitting smoking is easy; I've done it hundreds of times."
All too soon she felt the head engorge and knew she would soon have a mouthful of cum.  About fucking time, Emily told herself, as she felt the trembling penis grow even harder.  She redoubled her efforts and soon the volcano erupted in her mouth.  The first wad plastered the roof of her mouth like Michelangelo and the second blocked the air passage, forcing her to take a moment to swallow.  Then he covered her tongue as she continue to bob on his pole, back and forth, determined to take every pez from his dispenser.
Some spilled on her chin and curiosity told her to scoop it up.  She held up her fingers and examined the man juice before sucking her fingers like a chicken wing.  Bill pulled her up and stared at her in awe.  He had such beautiful eyes!  Emily was so proud.  She finally felt like a woman.  But she wasn't done.  She pushed him roughly onto the bed, then gave him a full body massage while he groaned in pleasure.  Somehow she got stuck on his cute booty and kneed his ass cheeks like bread.  By the time she rolled him onto his back, his pole stood tall enough to hang a flag.
Emily climbed on board and attempted liftoff.  The capsule sloshed as she gratefully slid down his runway.  Her boobs bounced up and down as she rocked his world.  Bill slapped her ass with one hand and pinched a nipple with the other as she leaned forward to French kiss that magnificent fucker.  What a rush!
"With each and every breath, your orgasm grows.  You may try to resist it, but fighting it only makes it stronger."  Oddly, Bill's voice came from behind her, instead of in front of her.  "You can feel it growing more powerful, sweeping everything negative with it, because it cleanses you as it grows.  It's taking all your stress, anxiety, tension, fear, resentment, and insecurities and replacing them with pure love.  When it hits you, your scream will reflect all the negativity that the orgasm ejects from you.  The stronger the orgasm, the more negativity you will force out.  Yet the more negativity you lose, the stronger your orgasm will be.  Losing your insecurities, fear, and regrets will turbocharge the orgasm and magnify your screams when you cum.  The harder you cum, the louder you'll scream; yet the louder you scream, the harder you'll cum."
She felt it coming, all right.  Not a wave, like so many people describe it, but more like an undersea current, pushing her before it.  As Emily felt herself lose control, she fought back, which only strengthened the force.  She knew the moment of no return as soon as she crossed it and imagined this must be what it's like to bungie jump -- that sense of freefall, where there's nothing you can do but savor the experience as if it were your last.  
Her head jerked back and something from the bowels of her soul burst out like a screaming alien.  An opera audience would have loved it.  It sure didn't sound like her.  Her imaginary Bill pinched her nipples so hard it hurt, and she vocally vented out the pain.  Emily had never yelled with such ferocity before.  Instead of terrifying her, it made her feel badass.  
The mega-orgasm drained her, so Bill threw her on her back and drilled her like Texas oil.  Emily wrapped her arms and legs around him and wept with joy, even as he grunted and cursed and pounded her like a nail.  She soon felt another wave sweep her away.  She fought it, but its power picked her up as if she weighed nothing.  Bill must have sensed it because he leaned down to French kiss her.  She latched onto his tongue as the wave broke.  Unable to scream down his throat made the orgasm that much more intense.  She feared her eyes would pop out.  It boiled over and her legs shook.  So much liquid flowed out of her pussy that she wondered where it all came from.  Cold air from the vent cooled her flush skin as the trembling ebbed.  She stared at Bill in fucking awe, and that sweet bastard smiled down at her with love.  She had so many emotions to sort through, but lacked the energy to do more than breathe.
Then the fucker flipped her over and slammed her from behind.  Emily buried her head in the pillow so she could scream without scaring the neighbors.
"The ass!" she begged him.  "Fuck me up the ass!"
He laughed and forced his cock up her butt.  "Take it like a man," he taunted her, reaching around to rub her clit.
The excruciating pain made her feel so alive.  When she came again, she seriously doubted she could take much more than this.  But Bill wasn't done.  Instead, her lover gave her a series of orgasms that drained the swamp of all negativity.  Whatever pain, fear, and resentment she may have felt earlier that day were pushed out of her mind, body, and soul by the warm light of love that grew every time she came. 
When she came to, or reasonable self-aware, she found herself staring at the ceiling, her arms thrown wide, her lover on a chair, still dressed in his suit, looking worried.  She stared at him in astonishment.
"Here," he said, grabbing her left paw.  In the time it took her to blink he pulled out a long freaking splinter and held it up in the dim light for her to study.  "Now you are strong and brave and powerful again."
"What the fuck?" Emily asked, looking at her paw.
Then he said something while snapping his fingers in her face and she fell back in her trance.  She didn't quite sleep as she continued to explore the incredible sex that she didn't really have.
Like in a dream, Emily found herself repeating things to internalize them, but immediately moved on to something else before she could remember what the hell she was saying.  Bill had her act out scenes, read lines, show emotion, then snap her back into an even deeper trance.  Bill put her psyche through the ringer, which both relaxed and exhausted her.
Someone must have put acid in her Mandarin chicken because she suddenly dreamed she married Bill.  She saw herself in a beautiful white wedding gown, surrounded by friends and family, walking down the isle with Here Comes The Bride playing.  Bill waited for her, looking handsome in his tux.  Emily never knew such happiness.  They lost track of time, looking into each other's eyes.  When Bill slid the gorgeous diamond ring on her finger, she nearly peed.  Then they kissed to wild applause.  She dimly remembered making out with him in the limo, eager to tear her expensive wedding dress off, only to reach the luxury hotel room where they would make love all night.  The aggressor, she ripped off his clothes and took him.  She once heard that fucking is what guys do when women are making love to them, but they switched between fucking and making love after every orgasm.  She would collapse on top of him and bathe in his eyes.  Too much kissing and touching would excite her again, and she would fuck his brains out.
And every time she came, her hate, anger, and regret diminished.
Finally, after a series of mind blowing orgasms, she broke a barrier and started crying uncontrollably.  Out came how much she missed her father, hated her mother for bringing so many abusive jerks home, and regretted acting like such a bitch to her wonderful step-father.  Emily cried out her fears of graduating and entering the real world because a bachelor's degree in psychology didn't qualify you for jack shit.  She wept for all the friends she lost because she freaked out being touched or in enclosed places.  She hated feeling like a freak, and abhorred turning into a bitch to drive people away.  Emily hated herself for treating people so bad.  She just wanted to be normal, act normal, and live a normal life.  She didn't need fame or fortune.  Just the life that most people took for granted. 
The next time she blinked, Emily found herself in the reclining chair, still fully clothed, with Bill saying soothing shit.  She could not help but notice how soaking wet her pants were.  At first Emily thought she peed myself, but then she saw the folded beach towel under her and, with shock, realized that she had her first orgasm.  And second and third and fourth and fifth.  And what orgasms!  She knew how other girls described it, but nothing they said did it justice.  Nothing in her entire life prepared her, or could have prepared her, for such a mind altering experience.
"You're a woman now," the hypnotherapist told her.
"It beats the hell out of a bar mitzvah," she replied with a smile, totally drained, yet bathed in a warm glow.
Bill then tapped her forehead while snapping his fingers and she fell asleep.

CHAPTER 6

Bill hypnotized Emily over dinner, without her knowing it, then started feeding her suggestions to help her share her inner-most secrets with him.  All his life people have told him the damnest things.  It still surprised Bill what total strangers tell him.  He can't get his parents to tell him why they're fighting, but a major cutie like Emily will give him details on the night she was raped.  Usually people tell him way more than he wants to know, but that wasn't possible with Emily.  Bill wanted to know everything about her.
Normally, Bill second-guess himself endlessly on ethical shit.  Fucking a patient -- or at least one who comes to him as a patient -- is pretty unethical.  Even if she's hot and wants to use him for sex.  Even if it's therapeutic.  Yet Emily explicitly challenged him to make her fall in love with him.  She gave him the green light, so he planned on driving through her intersection.
How often does someone knock on your door and hand you the winning lottery ticket?  Not too fucking often.  But, basically, that's what Emily just did with Bill.  If she wore more clothes, he would have wondered if she hid a wire, because this was too good to be true.
His challenge was more than getting someone past a traumatic event.  He could imagine spending the rest of his life with her.  Assuming she didn't turn out to be a total basket case.  He tried that twice, and wouldn't go for a third.  Not even for Emily.  But Emily didn't seem nearly as fucked up as his two ex'es.  He treated combat veterans less fucked up than those bitches.  Emily, to his trained eyes, seemed as normal as could be hoped for.  They got along, had chemistry, and they both desperately wanted to fuck each other.  Hell, he even made her laugh!  Now that's a superpower.
When she entered his humble home, the place lit up like she carried a giant lantern.  Bill cleaned up as much stuff as he could while she went to the bathroom, but she didn't seem to find any major flaws with it.  Which was important because he just bought the damn place after his ex got the last home he bought, and he wanted to stay.  She had no idea how relieved he felt when she clearly felt comfortable in his home.  With any luck, it would soon be hers.
As a teenager, Bill often seduced girls with hypnosis.  Hell, once they hear about hypno-orgasms, they sometimes literally beg to be seduced.  But he wanted more than sex from Emily.  His rich asshole brother once said 99% of women aren't fuckable.  His very fuckable trophy wife then claimed that 99% of all men aren't marriage material.  What everyone would agree on is that finding someone you want to spend the rest of your life with is fucking difficult.  Possible lifemates are few and far between.  Unless you're George Clooney, life sucks without someone special.  
Everyone wants to get the best possible mate because your happiness depends on it and because society will judge you partly by who you marry.  If others think you've married below you, you'll lose respect.  But if you bag a major trophy, people will assume good things about you.  Who you marry reflects on you.  A good mate raises your status while a poor mate lowers it.
Plus, relationships only last when both parties feel they bring something equal to the table.  A gorgeous woman will not stay with a perennial loser and a rich success wants a wife who reflects his new, higher status.  It isn't fair, but life was never meant to be fair.  Instead, life was meant to be hard.  If God wanted life to be easy, he would have made it easy.
Some people you know better in a minute than other people in a lifetime.  He certainly felt he understood Emily better than his own damn brother.  
"Please don't let me fuck this up," he prayed, over and over again, trying to bring up his "A" game.
For several hours he worked her hard.  He would have her beat the crap out of Screech, then pump her up with a bunch of self-esteem shit, followed by a fantasy roll play like a wedding or kickass vacation, then a fuck fest to drain her of negativity, so he could have her beat Screech again.  Not until the sun came up did she just disable Screech with a hit to the head, then call the police, rather than beat him nearly to death.  That's when he knew they won.  It took several times, but each time she beat him with less hatred.  That last time, she looked down at Screech with contempt instead of fear, and Bill wept in joy.
Exhausted, he stumbled to the couch and envied how well he knew Emily would sleep.
Then, after a long nap, he returned to work, shaping and strengthening her in ways she could not even imagine.  He had never kept anyone in hypnosis for so long, and prayed he didn't overplay his hand.

CHAPTER 7

Emily woke up starving.  Startled, she had no idea where she was, yet strangely didn't freak out.  The room looked vaguely familiar, but things didn't click until she saw Dr. Cooper -- Bill -- asleep on the couch.  Instinctively she knew he slept there, rather than on a comfortable bed, so he would be within her line of sight when she woke.  What a fucking sweetheart.  
It took a lot of fucking effort to get out of that comfortable recliner.  That's when she discovered how much her back and neck hurt.  She remembered going to the bathroom half-asleep a few times, and vaguely recalled eating, but other than that she had been in that fucking chair.
"Crap," she whispered, terribly disappointed, looking at her pants.  "I'm still a virgin."  It's not often you wake up hoping you unknowingly lost your virginity.
Emily had no idea how long she had been there, but she saw boxes of pizza and Chinese food littering the floor.  She even had noodles and rice on her shirt.  The cutie stretched to get out the kinks, when she realized how different she felt.  Not just good, but great.  A baseball covered with signatures sat in a glass box with a note from Bill telling her to give it to her father-in-law to show her appreciation for all of his help.
She walked over to Bill and admired him for the longest time.  A half-full water bottle lay nearby so she drank it while studying his gorgeous face.  She didn't think anyone could be hotter than Derrick, but now she could barely remember what he looked like.  The longer she looked at Bill, the better looking he got.  She resolved right then and there not to let this one get away.
She liked everything about him, laying there with only boxers on.  She caressed his back while she examined every inch of him.  Obviously he worked out, with a lean physique more like Brad Pitt than Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The dark beauty squatted to put her face near his.  He slept like a baby.  He's exhausted, she realized.  He must have been up all night working on me.  Once she started smiling, it grew so big that it barely fit on her face.  She touched his face like a blind girl trying to memorize him and chuckled when he purred like a kitten.
"You're fucking adorable," she told him in a stern voice that accepted no argument.
Asleep, he didn't answer her, so Emily kissed him.  Gently, because she didn't want to wake him.  His lips were so soft.  Just as she starting forcing her tongue into his mouth she realized that she was kissing a guy, something that she had never done before.
"Holy shit!" she yelped as she fell backwards.  On her back with her legs spread before him, Emily stared at Bill in stunned disbelief.  Then she looked up at the ceiling to thank God for His help.  A bit late, but whatever.  
On her hands and knees she gently lifted his hand and put it on her breast.  Asleep, he didn't even squeeze her tittie, but Emily felt thrilled, all the same.
"I can touch him and he can touch me!"  She got up and danced like she won the lottery.  "I'm cured!  That magnificent bastard fixed me!"
Unfortunately, her shorts stunk real bad, like laundry left out in the rain, so she took off her clothes in order to take a shower.  Then it hit her that she was fucking naked and alone with a guy in his home, and she wasn't freaking out.  Overwhelmed, she sat on the carpet to stare at her man, relishing her brave nudity.
"You're mine," she told him, not knowing that he drilled this into her repeatedly under hypnosis.  "I am yours and you are mine."
Emily spread her legs, just because she could, but the odor repelled her.  "I need to shower and shave.  I got a damn forest growing down there!"  Laughing to herself, she scooted closer so she could insert his finger into her.  But that felt so good that she rubbed her clit with one hand while used the other to fuck herself with his middle finger.  Her eyes rolled back and her flush skin overheated her.  The loud grunting should have woken the dead, but Bill slept through it.  
Finally, Emily pictured kissing him at their wedding after taking their vows and the orgasm smacked her like a 2X4.  She suppressed a scream because he clearly needed the sleep, and that only intensified it.  So much fluid flew out like a flash flood that she initially assumed she peed on his hand.  She stared at her virgina like an alien as she slowly regained her composure.
"He can not only make me cum when I'm asleep, but when he's asleep.  I've struck gold!"
She sniffed the air, grinning.  "So that's what sex smells like."  Emily could not believe the situation she found herself in.  "Well, if you're mine, then I want to see my penis."
She pulled down his boxers and fished out his soft dick.  She wanted to see it hard, so she fondled it until it got semi-hard, then leaned forward to work it with her mouth.  Soon enough, she had a rock hard boner that made her gag.  In her inexperience, she blamed herself for not getting the whole monster in.  Every time her nose sniffed his pubes, her gag reflex would make her spit it out.  The hottie enjoyed the taste, but couldn't quite get the hang of it.  Frustrated, she gave up rather than ruin her mood.
"You're mine," she warned the penis.  "Or you will be soon.  Crap, I need to talk to my mother.  I'd hate to lose Bill just because I suck at blowjobs."
She showered, then went through Bill's clothes until she found shorts and a shirt that didn't look too ridiculous on her, chuckling how comfortable she felt naked in a stranger's home.  She spend a solid hour cleaning up the place, wrote him a note, then texted her mom that she was coming home.
She didn't own a car, so she jogged home, a new person.
Bill opened his eyes as soon as the door closed.  While hypnotized, he had her count down from ten before waking up in order to give him time to feign sleep on the couch to see her true reaction.  He didn't want to fool her, but he needed to know how well the therapy took.  And what she'd do in his home if she thought no one was looking.  A part of him hoped she'd steal his cash, but instead she passed his test with flying colors.
Truly exhausted, he crawled into bed, wondering if she would return.

CHAPTER 8

"Mom!" Emily yelled as soon as she opened the front door.  Her father-in-law appeared first, looking worried.  "Dad!" she said as she ran up and gave him a bear hug.  "Joel, do you mind if I call you 'dad' from now on?  You've been doing the duty, so I think you should get the title."  She heard a yelp, and turned to see her mother.  "Mom!  Guess what?  I finally found someone!  Remember that therapist guy I wanted to try?  Well, I tried him!  Check out the pictures I took with my smartphone over dinner."  Her mother appeared catatonic.  "Mom?  You okay?"
"We've been worried sick about you," Joel volunteered.
"But I called.  I even gave you the address!"
"That was Friday.  That guy called yesterday, but you really should not go two days without letting us know where you are."
Emily looked at Joel like a ghost.  "Today's Sunday?  Holy crap.  Bill has been working on me all weekend, then.  No wonder the dear is so exhausted."
"Did he do anything do you?" Joel needed to know.
"I'm still a virgin, if that answers your question.  Oh, Bill is going to cover my tuition from now on, but he wanted to give something to you to express our gratitude for all of your help."  Emily dumped her backpack and took out the baseball in the glass case.  "A grateful patient gave it to him for saving his life.  I told him what a fan you are, so he insisted."
Intrigued, Joel examined the ball through the glass, his excitement growing more visible with each second.  "Emily!  Do you have any idea what this is?"
"A ball autographed by the Red Sox after winning the 2007 World Series to congratulate manager Terry Francona for his second world series win.  It's small compensation for paying my tuition for four years."
"Do you have any idea what this is worth?"
"Less than four years of tuition, so you have to accept it."
Joel sat down hard and Emily wondered whether she just gave him a heart attack.  Her mother rushed over to calm him down.  Unexpectedly, the old man cried.  Just burst into tears like a fire hydrant.
"Group hug!" Emily commanded, kneeling to embrace her parents.  Her mother kept kissing her on the forehead, until she, too, cried too hard.  "What's with all the tears?  I finally found someone.  I thought you'd all be happy.  Or, at least, in stunned disbelief."
"This is the first time you've ever touched me," Joel said.  He looked more like her grandfather than her father since her mother chose an older man, just to be safe.
"Well, it won't be the last.  I'm gonna give you hugs every time I see you.  You've been such an awesome dad and I've treated you shamefully.  Bill thinks so, too.  Oh, he says I need to make it up to your kids, too.  I was mean to them when they tried to be nice to me."  Even his kids were older than her.
Her mother grabbed her by both shoulders.  "Who are you?" she joked.
"Mom, Bill fixed me.  I'm still not sure how, but I suddenly feel so normal.  You have to meet him.  He's yummy."
"I'm so happy you have a boyfriend."
Emily shot to her feet to jump up and down.  "That's what he is!  My boyfriend.  Ha ha.  I have a boyfriend, I have a boyfriend.  Take that, Derrick!"
"You spent the weekend with him, and you're still a virgin?  Are you sure he isn't gay?"
Emily laughed.  Everything that once seemed so important wasn't, while things she didn't care about now were her priorities.  "Well, I'm not fixed completely yet, if you know what I mean, but I plan on ravishing him tonight.  I tried sucking him off, but just couldn't get the hang of it."
"Oh, I can help you with that," her mother assured her.
"Oooof!" Joel blurted out, laughing.  Mom slapped him playfully and Emily envied how happy they were.
"I need to take her out shopping!" mom pointed out, all excited.  "Emily doesn't have anything sexy to wear."
"You better take my platinum card, just in case," Joel said.
"You're the best dad in the world."

CHAPTER 9

Bill answered the phone on the first ring.  "Hello?"
"Hey, honey.  You hungry?"
He smiled, relieved.  He worried he lost her when he woke up alone.  "Hell, yeah."
"Then dress up.  I'll be there in an hour or so.  Do you mind if I drop some things off?  I'd like to spend the night."
"Girl, you can stay here for as long as you want."
"Damn!  I should have brought more suitcases!"  She laughed with him.  "I want to make love to you Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, then fuck the rest of the week."
Bill laughed.  "You can have me as much as you want, for as long as you want."
"Are you really my boyfriend?"
"I will be once you see me with my bling on."
"Boy, just you wait!  I look like I'm gonna crash the Oscars."
"Sorry, I can't wait."
"Don't you dare beat off!  Mom taught me stuff today and I'm eager to see how much I've learned."  That left Bill speechless.  "Sweety?  You still there?"
"Sorry, Emily.  My cock just cold-cocked me."
As always, her laughter drugged him.  "See you soon."
"Not soon enough."
He paced for the next two hours, then ran out when they pulled up.  Her mother looked older than her years, but Bill could tell she used to be a real beauty.  They exchanged pleasantries before Emily sent her mother home.
"You look stunning."
And she did.  The bright red dress that optimized her cleavage mesmerized him.  He barely saw the pearl necklace that she borrowed from her mom.  Whereas she looked like a student on Friday, now she could pass for a movie star.  Emily had been holding her breath, waiting to study his reaction, and everything told her that she hit a grand slam.  He brought in her luggage like a valet.
 "Could you help me choose new furniture?" he asked as she put her stuff away.  "And pictures to put on the walls?  I want you to feel at home here."
"Keep that up and you'll get lucky tonight," Emily teased him.
"Girl, I'm lucky right now."

CHAPTER 10

Bill took her to an expensive restaurant where she turned heads walking to their table.  Bill felt like a million bucks.  Which would just about cover dinner.  He begged her to order something she normally doesn't eat, and she chose lobster.  He offered wine, but she lost her appetite for alcohol.  This weekend was also the longest she ever went without taking Valium.  
Then, out of nowhere, she loudly said, "I can't wait to fuck you."
Bill choked so hard on his halibut that he farted.  Audibly.  Emily laughed while he turned redder than her lobster.
"Please don't tell our grandchildren that I farted on our first date," he begged her.
"Nice save, young Jedi, on transitioning the subject.  I'll let you name our first child if you let me name the next two."
"Only if I get to name the three after that."  Bill couldn't believe what he was saying.
They smiled at each other.  Everything seemed surreal, like they would wake up at any moment in their beds, alone.
"I always wanted kids, but just assumed it wouldn't be possible," Emily said.  "I'm not taking birth control pills and I don't have health insurance.  Do you want to wear condoms, or would you prefer to marry me if I got pregnant."
"I'd prefer to knock you up so you have to marry me."  As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was true.  
"Shouldn't you first take a moment to think it over?"
"I've never shared such chemistry with anyone before.  I know a lot of couples, but I can't think of any who have what we have.  Tomorrow I'll go to a notary to put it in writing, just in case you decide to have my child."
Emily shivered.  "You fucker!  You're getting me wet again.  How do you do that?"
"It must be my rock star good looks." 
"I'd love to spend the rest of my life with you, but I'm scared our relationship won't last.  I've never had a boyfriend before.  Hell, I've never even kissed a boy before.  I'd hate to give you my heart, only for it to be broken."
"Life doesn't come with guarantees, but I can guarantee you that my third marriage will be my last.  If the next one doesn't last, I'm done with marriage.  Three strikes and I'm out."
"You'd really marry me?"
Bill felt another fart trying to escape.  "The smart move would be to wait a year, or until you become pregnant.  But yeah," he said, savoring her eyes.  "I can easily see myself marrying you.  Why do you think I have you marry me under hypnosis?  You told me to make you fall in love with me, and so I do that by having you see a happy future with me.  While women lure men with sex, men lure women with commitment."
"What do you mean?"
"A man in a suit is like a woman in lingerie.  A suitable mate is like a boner for women.  You're not gonna marry a guy who can't support a family, who is unfaithful, unreliable, irresponsible, addicted, or reckless, so you get a hard-on when you find a guy who is marriage material.  Guys know this, and therefore use it to get sex.  Men paint a happy future together to get laid because that's what works.  Even though women who believe their lies get their hearts broken."
"Wait a fucking minute!"  Emily slammed the table hard, disturbing the couple in the next booth.  "Men get laid by convincing women that they want more than sex?"  Bill didn't think it sounded like a question, so he said nothing.  "You bastards!"
"Hey, don't blame me.  I've been married twice.  I'm not like other guys."
"And just how would you play that card with me?" she wanted to know.
Bill fixed her position with frontal eye contact, then flanked her before she could reposition herself.  
"You graduate this summer, yet a bachelors in psychology doesn't qualify you for anything, so you'll have to work your ass off, making very little, like your mother did before she met her Prince Charming.  You'll have to live at home, with limited privacy, obeying their rules, while your wealthier friends party without you.  You'll waste the best years of your life.  You will exist without actually living.  Your step-dad's kids will inherit his wealth, so you and your mother will be poor again once he passes away.  Unless you win the lottery or find a great husband to rescue you from cruel fate, your life is basically over before it starts.  Which is why hooking a rich guy like Derrick was so important to you.  But he wants to party, not settle down.
"Now imagine that you live with me.  I am faithful, hard working, strong, successful, healthy, and generous.  Rather than work, I'd support you while you take a masters-doctorate program in psychology.  As Dr. Emily, you become a state-licensed clinical psychologist using hypnotherapy to save people's lives while living large on a combined income of a quarter million a year.  Instead of slaving for some sexist jerk, you work for yourself.  You could have kids while you get your doctorate, or wait until you graduate, since you would make your own work schedule.  I can give you a happy relationship that lasts a lifetime, security, stability, prosperity, family, and financial independence."
She must have snorted pixie dust, the way her face lit up like Tinkerbelle.
"Where do I fucking sign?" she joked.  "But what do you get out of it?"
"You are everything that I've always wanted in a lifemate.  And I like the term 'lifemate' better than 'soulmate.'  You're smart, beautiful, and caring.  We get along great, we communicate well, and we seem to share compatible goals, beliefs, and values.  You even laugh at my jokes.  Really, what more could a man want?"
That shut her up long enough to finish her cold lobster.  The pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place on their own.  The opportunity that Bill presented floored her.  And scared the hell out of her.
"I can't believe someone as hot as you would marry someone fucked up like me," she said.
"Marrying someone bright, gorgeous, and totally into me would not be the worst thing that ever happened to me."
Emily sure liked him buttering her up.  "Out of curiosity, what is the worst thing that has ever happened to you?"
Bill thought a moment.  "As a teenager I once fell face-first into a fresh pile of steaming doodoo."
Emily gasped.  "Seriously?"
"Yeah, and let me tell you, it tasted like crap!"  She slapped his arm for pulling her leg, but couldn't help laughing, despite herself.  "On the one hand, it made me appreciate my mom's terrible meatloaf, which I only thought tasted like caca, but, on the other hand, it remains the best shit I've ever had."
She smiled so big she had a hard time forming words.  "Why would you want to marry me?  I just don't get it.  You could have anyone."
"My friends say my standards are unrealistic, but they're really just very specific.  I am looking for a woman with a long list of physical and psychological attributes and you, alone, check off my list.  In return, I am offering a roof over your head, food on your plate, as well as clothes, jewelry, and makeup."
"And shoes.  Lots and lots of fucking shoes."
He laughed.  "And shoes.  Hell, I'd even pay for breast implants if I'm confident you're not just using me for money."
"You're gonna make me feel like a hooker?"
"A virgin can know what a hooker feels like?  I'm not paying you for sex, so you're not a hooker.  Investing so much in you should be reassuring.  I want you to know that I find you valuable.  You know a guy cares when he spends money on you.  Would you prefer I spend as little as possible on you?"
"Now I really feel like a hooker," said the woman who wants to have sex, but cannot.
Bill sighed.  "Even beautiful women are insecure because they know how quickly things can change.  A scar to the face may end their relationship and, often enough, their careers.  Women prefer husbands to boyfriends because they need to know that their man will be there for them during bad times.  It's why wives fart, but girlfriends don't.  In Europe they say you don't know who your friends are until you've known them for a decade -- meaning until they have a chance to abandon you when you need them the most.  Conservative men want to outlaw gay marriage and criminalizing abortion, but most women would prefer to outlaw divorce and criminalize infidelity.  A law that made cheating a felony would get every female vote in America."
"No man has ever talked like this with me before," Emily confessed.
"You've never dated a man before."
Emily stopped refilling her wine glass.  "I've never felt like a woman before."
"Just wait until I get you into our bed."  She noticed that he didn't say "my bed" but "our bed."  Gazing into each other's eyes, they connected like a T1 trunk in a world of dial-up.  Quietly they shared a magical moment.
Then Bill put his hand on hers and watched her freeze up, like a deer in highlights.  Her face turned pale and her eyes lost focus.  Her body heaved backwards so hard she almost tipped over, right onto the restaurant floor.  The knee-jerk reaction embarrassed Emily.  The dude fucking bought her lobster!  On a first date!
He unsuccessfully tried to hide his bitter disappointment.  "It looks like we still have work to do."
"Oh, Bill, I'm so sorry!  I've ruined our first date."  She saw her unbelievable future fade away.
She looked about to cry, but he noted that she clearly didn't want to escape, like when they first met.  He withdrew his hand and examined her.  She was "this" close to a total freak-out.
"Put your hand on mine," he ordered her.  Which she did without a problem.  Indeed, it seemed to relax her.  "Interesting."
"What the hell is so interesting?" she demanded, hating herself again and afraid she fucked up something wonderful.
"It appears I can't touch you, but you can touch me."  She was too overwhelmed to appreciate the significance.  "That means, at least in the beginning, that I cannot ravish you, but you can ravish me."
Well, that cleared her eyes.  "Interesting," she said in a deep voice, doing a funny imitation of him.  "So we can still have sex?"
"Yep.  But you will have to do everything until we desensitize your body.  It's like if snakes scare you because one bit you as a kid.  First we show you a cute picture while calming you down, then desensitize you to scarier pictures, until you can relax in the same room as a snake.  The therapy becomes a success when you can hold a harmless snake without fear."
"You're not gonna bite me, are you?" she asked with a smile.  "Cuz I've been thinking of swallowing you whole."
"I may nibble on your earlobes."
Her hands flew to her ears and she laughed at how silly she must have looked, with her elbows pointing at him.
"Hey, lady," Bill said loudly.  "Take out the earplugs and listen to me!"
Her full throated laugh made him feel connected again.
"Every time I feel like shit, you make me feel special again.  How do you do that?"
"Drugs."
She didn't buy that for a minute.  "More like mad skills.  Where do we go from here?"
"You get to do whatever you feel comfortable doing to me.  You are in control.  You decide what we do."
She looked at him blankly.  "I'm in charge?"  Emily started laughing hysterically.  "Me?"
Bill loved her reaction and felt a ton of relief at not having to seduce someone traumatized by rape.  She would gradually push the limits, her body would get used to contact, and eventually he would get to fuck her.
"Where do I start?" she wanted to know.
"Kiss my hand."  She pecked his palm.  "Now kiss me on the lips."
Bill watched happiness capture her face.  She was really enjoying this.  He stayed where he was, forcing her to scoot closer.  Except she kept smiling so much that she couldn't pucker her lips.
"Nervous?"
"Yes, damn you!" she answered, chuckling.  "I thought you'd ravage me like a helpless maiden, not put me in charge of our sex life.  I can't wait to give you lemons just to see you make kickass lemonade.  You're a fucking judo master!"
"It's not my fault you're a powerful lioness."  Even though, actually, it was.
She whispered a roar into his ear.  Then, tempted by fate, she began to nibble on his earlobes.
"Now who's the judo master?" he shot back, loving every nibble.
It took a few minutes before she moved to his neck and face, but it was worth it.  When she finally kissed his soft lips, his boner almost lifted the table like a séance.  Their first kiss lasted an eternity -- they didn't even use tongue.  They'd gaze into each other's eyes, then close them when it felt too good, only to open them a few minutes later.  Bill was dying to embrace her.
"Are you really gonna buy me boobies?" she finally whispered, gripping his hard-on.
That broke the spell and they laughed, freakishly comfortable together.  She practically sat on his lap in their corner booth.
"Move in with me and I will."
"Done!"
They laughed again, each aware of the long odds that fell in their favor, like scoring an inside royal flush on the river in Texas Hold-Em.
"Bill, seriously!  How the fuck can you spend several thousand on tits for a chick you just met?  I'd totally understand if we wait a while."
Crap.  Now he had to own up.  "My big brother, a Goldman Sachs bankster who got rich collapsing the economy, is marrying a supermodel next month and I need you to make me look good.  Society judges people partly on who they marry because they assume that's the best you can do.  I'd lose respect if I married beneath me.  In contrast, with you as my live-in fiancée, everyone will assume I have a huge cock."
Her eyes widened and she instantly understood.  "I will be on you like white on rice.  I'll give you head under the table and make more noise than a vacuum.  Every guy there will envy you, including your brother.  You'll steal his thunder and borrow his lightning to rain on his happy parade."
She understood him.  At least, a woman who "got" him.
"Are you always this amazing?" he asked in awe.
"Yes."
The put her hands on his and they enjoyed each other in silence.  If they noticed the impatient waitress who wanted new customers, they didn't show it.  Once the waitress left, Emily started laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm getting tits?  Do you have any idea how much that changes a girl's life?  It raises my self-esteem ten points, right off the bat.  I'll get free drinks, doors will magically open, and teachers will give me better grades.  I crave attention, yet fear rejection, and big boobs help with both.  It's so hard to feel like a woman when men treat you like a kid.  In terms of greater social respect, breast implants for a woman are like a man becoming six inches taller.  You make me so fucking happy.  Tell me how I can pay you back."
"We need to get your body used to physical contact, so touch me as much as possible.  We may not have sex soon, but touching my naked body all over would be very therapeutic.  At least for me."
She smiled.  "You just want a full body massage."
"But I'll return the favor as we progress.  We'll measure the success of the therapy by how much you let me touch you.  You'll know we have succeeded when I'm giving you full body massages."
"Oh, you're on, man!"
If Emily got any happier, she'd pee herself.

CHAPTER 11

"What are you doing?" Emily asked, bewildered, back in Bill's ridiculously comfortable recliner.  She had just given him a full body massage that left her soaking wet.  She tried to mount him, but froze up instead, like a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar.  Adding insult to injury, she then felt so useless that she couldn't even suck him off.  If they didn't want physical contact, they would have been perfect for each other.
"I'm taping up the windows," Bill replied, holding a wide roll of transparent packing tape.  "Under hypnosis, I tell you that the louder you scream, the harder you orgasm, and the harder you orgasm, the louder you scream.  The problem is that your vocals are so powerful I fear you'll shatter the windows in the Orgasm Room and cut us up with the shards."
That's what they now called it: the Orgasm Room, because it now reeked of sex all day, every day.  She was so conditioned that just entering the room made her skin tingle.
Scandalized, Emily covered her mouth with her hand.  "Swear you're just fucking with me!  If I scream that loud, I must be waking the neighbors."
"I'm sure you've given Mrs. Tubbards plenty to talk about.  I wouldn't worry, though.  If it wasn't your screaming, she'd find something else about you to talk about, the nosy bitch."
"The old lady with the dogs?"
"Yeah.  She deliberately has them poo on my lawn.  I'm surprised you haven't heard them howl when you scream."
Emily stared at her man, unsure whether to believe him.  "I never know when you're joking."
"Most people value truth.  As a therapist, I value words that work.  I operate so often in someone else's worldview that what is true becomes a matter of perspective.  So, instead of worrying about veracity, I simply say things that will give me the results I seek.  Now, for example, every time you orgasm, a part of you will be tuning in to hear the neighborhood dogs, making you less self-conscious, which will allow you to cum that much stronger.  More importantly, it helps you cum that much cleaner.  Guilt, anger, resentment, hate, sadness, or traumatic memories can pollute and dilute an orgasm.  I'd rather you think about shattering the windows or pissing off the dogs than those things."
"You are so fucking beautiful."  Emily couldn't believe he was so good to her.  "You know what I want before I want it.  I didn't know I had so many buttons, but you play me like a piano.  It's like you've memorized my instruction manual."
Bill finished taping the last window.  "Actually, I've never understood anyone like I feel I understand you.  I doubt there's a thousand couples on the planet that enjoy a connection like we do."
"But I can't even mount you!  All I have to do in sit on your cock, and I can't even manage that.  Plus, all the money you've been spending on me makes me feel like shit.  Very horny shit."
Emily broke down in tears.
"I'm investing so much in you because no one else has ever wanted to have sex with me so badly before," Bill commented, annoyed that he couldn't even pat her on the back.
Emily laughed, despite her tears.  "You always know just what to say."
"I'm your lifemate.  It comes with the territory."
"I don't deserve you."
"Of course you do.  You're just a Ferrari with a flat tire, not a bad engine.  It's only been a few days, so don't get discouraged.  It's only a matter of time before I get to ravage you, so be patient."
"I don't deserve you."
"People don't get what they deserve; they get what they need.  Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people all of the time.  Deserving has nothing to do with it.  Rain falls on us all.  Our purpose in life is to learn and grow, to purify our souls by shedding our negativity.  Bad shit is what forces us to grow."
"I don't deserve you."
"Look at it this way: you get to spend the rest of your life making it up to me.  If I bring more to the table, then you'll just have to work a little more to make up the difference.  I'd rather have you over-appreciative than ungrateful."
"I don't deserve you."
"What if you give me incredible children?  Bet you never thought of that."
"But I don't deserve you!"  This time she roared angrily, making Bill wonder if she had some lion in her, after all.
"Which one of us are you trying to convince?" Bill shot back.  "If you don't deserve me, then why are you here?  If something bad never happened to you, then you never would have walked into my life.  Don't you understand?  That was the trigger that made our relationship possible.  Without it, Derrick would have fucked and dumped you, breaking your heart.  Don't you get it?  The path you took will turn you into a better person.  You don't have me because you deserve me, but because you need me.  If life is a journey, then I'm your guide, so stop your damn complaining and enjoy the ride!"
He didn't mean to yell, but he really needed to overcome her resistance or else she may start sabotaging the relationship.  Lots of people unconsciously harm their relationship.  Self-destructive self-esteem has killed more marriages than infidelity.
Bill snapped his fingers and said the trigger words that would instantly put her under: "Emily Cooper!"
Replacing her last name with his own worked like an enema to her soul.
Immediately her eyes rolled back and her body lost all tension.  Hypnotizing her so often helped condition her to his commands -- tools that any boyfriend would envy.  He didn't need to look to know that she was now reliving her strongest fantasy -- and getting incredibly wet.  But, still, it was fun.
"Tell me what you see."
As if recounting a movie, Emily answered.  "We're getting married.  Joel has just walked me down the isle and now I stand by your side.  You look so handsome -- I want to rip your clothes off so bad.  The place is packed!  Do we really know all these people?  I've never seen my mother look happier.  She radiates a tranquility that other mothers envy."
"Are you horny?" he unnecessarily asked.
"Oh God yes!  I'm so wet it feels like I peed myself.  My heart is pounding and my skin feels hot.  When you kiss me as my husband, I don't think I can restrain myself."
"Scream as loud as you want.  This is your day.  You can do whatever you want."
"The minister is talking, but his words bounce off me.  All I can think about is that you will officially be mine."
"Yours, only yours, and yours forever," he assured her.
"That's what you say in your vows!  That's what you promise me.  I can sense the bitches in the pews seething with envy.  It makes me feel a foot taller and three bra sizes bigger.  If my gorgeous dress wasn't so heavy, I would float away."
"The more he talks, the hornier you get.  With each and every breath, the orgasm grows stronger and closer.  You try to resist, but that just gives it more power.  It's gonna hit you when he declares us husband and wife, and you can't fucking wait.  Already your breathing has changed, becoming heavier.  You look fantastic in the dress, but you'd look even better without it." 
In disbelief Bill watched Emily tear off her t-shirt and blue jeans.  She loved to walk around the house naked, but then felt bad that they couldn't have sex.  Yet she had never undressed under hypnosis before.  Bill watched her remove her bra and panties.  He didn't even have to ask her to spread her legs wide.  She rocked the recliner back to give him an optimum view.
Interesting.
"Taking off your wedding dress has provoked me too much.  My cock is so hard I think it may burst, so I take you right then and there, in front of everyone!"
"Yes, motherfucker, yes!" she cried out.  "Fuck me right in this church!"
"Feel my boner enter you for the first time," he commanded, then slipped his middle finger inside her.  She turned and twisted in the chair like a fighter plane evading a heat seeker, overwhelmed with sensation.
"Don't you dare stop!" she ordered him harshly, eyes still closed, so he slipped in another finger and pumped her fast and hard.  She pinched a nipple and pushed her pelvis towards him.
"Tell me you love me!" he yelled.
"I fucking love you!" she screamed back.
"It's coming.  I can feel it.  The preacher is about to marry us.  Can you see me hold up the massive ring?"
Emily was beyond speech.  She thrashed about like a fish on a beach.  He sensed her peak, then spoke the magic words, as he had so many times before.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You can cum in the bride."
Instead of her usual scream, something burst out of Emily that would have sent Bill running if he wasn't finger-fucking a total hottie he just met a few days before.  Taping the windows had been a gimmick, a prop on a stage, but he was wiser than he knew because her thunder deafened him like front row seats at a rock concert.  
She had been holding back, he suddenly realized!
He didn't need to strain to hear those fucking dogs bark like wolves.  A water balloon must have popped inside Emily because a wave of liquid flooded his hand.  Thank God he always had a thick towel under her.  He had never seen anyone cum as hard as Emily, and she kept cuming harder with each passing day.  It almost frightened him how strong she may cum in the months ahead. 
Emily flipped on the size of the arm of the recliner, forcing Bill to reach across to hold her back.  For the first time, she didn't panic at his touch.  She flopped back down and he watched her arms and legs twitch like an epileptic for a few minutes before she fell unconscious.  Not asleep, but unconscious.  Bill had to check her pulse just to make sure she was still alive.  The mall was open, but nobody was shopping.
Holy crap! he silently yelled to himself.  That was a grand slam.  He mentally patted himself on the back.  After all her suffering, she needed that.  No, she deserved that.  He smiled at his completely naked fiancée -- that's how he already thought of her -- like she was a winning lottery ticket.
Ironically, he had not yet cum, despite giving Emily dozens of orgasms all weekend.  But that didn't bother him.  He wanted more than just a fucking blowjob.  He wanted a wife and a mother of his unborn children.  And, if he played his cards right, he finally found her.
Still, she laid there naked, legs wide open.  She desperately wanted him to fuck her, so it wouldn't be rape.  She even wanted him to get her pregnant, and he knew how much she wished to lose her virginity.  Ah, hell.  This was too good to pass up.  Maybe fucking her unconscious will help her therapeutically, the therapist rationalized.
Whatever.  The curse of a therapist is always being brutally honest with oneself.  Most people don't appreciate it, but most lies that people chose to believe have a practical or convenient aspect to them.  No man cheats or steals or murders without first lying to himself.  A therapist, however, could not afford convenient lies because the more you fool yourself, the more others can fool you.
"I really need to fuck you," he said to the naked body in his expensive chair while quickly undressing.
He hovered over her, his throbbing cock just inches away from its home, eager to get started.  Hell, eager to finish.  But, instead, he kissed her on the lips.  She didn't respond, but that was probably for the best.  At least her mouth was warm and inviting, or it would have felt creepy.  Well, creepier.  He sucked the nipple that she pinched and it felt wonderful.  Two sizes bigger and her tits would be world-class.
Staring at her beautiful face, love pouring from his eyes, he gently slide his cock inside her.  Then he had to rearrange her legs to get it all the way in, but she didn't wake up, other than to moan like a cat in heat.  Hey, maybe she would enjoy this after all.  Once he pulled her ass forward a bit, he finally had the position he needed to rock his world.  He thrust it in and out rapidly -- after all, he wasn't trying to make her cum -- and the sensation made him swoon.
Guys who say all pussy is the same are idiots.  Like all wine tastes the same.  Implausible on its face.  Instead, every pussy -- like every love -- is unique.  You can fuck them the same, but each reacts in its own way.  Pussies are therefore not interchangeable.  Some may feel equally good, but that does not make them the same.
Bill understood that how he felt towards a woman will bais his reaction.  Fucking a prostitute, not matter how beautiful, is not better than making love to someone you care for.  A man can hate a woman and still enjoy the sex, but that does not mean his feelings don't color the experience.  
Emily was everything he ever desired in a woman -- were she conscious -- and he never felt so strongly towards anyone.  He thought he loved his ex'es, at the time, but what Emily evoked in him completely overshadowed what he felt for anyone else.  If he could measure love, Emily rated a world record.
So entering Emily was like diving into a warm pool.  Everything changed in an instant. The sensations overwhelmed him, but one thing stood out: he never wanted to leave.  Sex with Emily ruined him for other women.  It was like discovering New York steak after a lifetime of chicken.  He desperately wanted to make this first time last.  He wanted to nibble on her ear loobs, give her neck a hickey, and lose himself in her tits.  
But instead -- to his total shame -- he came in record time.  Thank God she was unconscious!
He pulled out horrified at his performance.  Hell, he wanted to scream like she did, but found that he couldn't utter a sound.  His prick made more noise than he did.  This was not how he envisioned their first time.  Which, naturally, was the problem: so many fantasies had built him up, leaving him half-hard all weekend.  Of course ejaculation came quicker.  She had been turning him on since the moment he saw her, so what did he expect?
He pulled out and cleaned himself up with the end of the towel.  The sad thing was -- other than he just fucked someone unconscious -- that it still felt awesome.  As Woody Allen put it, even bad sex is pretty good.
Bill collapsed in his executive chair and envied his fiancée, who slept like Sleeping Beauty.  Every orgasm she had helped erase the rape, and the stronger she came, the more memory she erased.  Or, at least, the pain.  He just needed to give her enough orgasms so that she considered them her new normal.  Then she will have transitioned from rape victim to a woman enjoying a healthy sexual relationship.  He would say "normal," but he just fucked her unconscious and, as a psychologist, he was an expert on abnormal.
He just hoped that Emily could forgive him.

CHAPTER 12

Emily woke up in the dark several hours later feeling fantastic.  Once she started walking she noticed the aches in her inner thighs and froze as she considered the possibilities.  
"Oh my God!"
She raced to the bathroom to examine herself and, sure enough, she lost her virginity.  Assuming fingers don't count.  Her fingers scooped up Bill's semen and she stared at it until a smile lit her face like a torch.
"About fucking time!"
She washed herself, then found her lover in the master bedroom wearing nothing but his boxers, which she quickly pulled off.  Half-asleep, Bill mumbled something, but Emily didn't care.  Instead, she sniffed his penis and the smell of sex thrilled her.  She knew she wasn't good at cocksucking, but neither had she given up hope.  Her caresses quickly gave her something hard enough to suck and she snorted that sucker like a crack whore.  Enthusiasm more than made up for technique.  Bill kept trying to apologize or something, so she decided to shut him the fuck up by smothering him with her pussy.  And it was glorious.  The only thing better than a cock in the mouth is also have a tongue up the pussy.  All those years taking valium when she could have been enjoying this.
It just doesn't get any better than hot sex with the one you love.  She vowed to enjoy Bill's cock every day for the rest of her life.  Emily never felt happier, more satisfied, or more like a complete woman.
Then Bill grabbed her ass cheeks and the effect was like garlic on a vampire.  She flew off him and onto the floor, landing with a hard thud.  Surprised, because he thought he was finally going to get some, Bill scrambled in the bed to help her up, only to find her crying inconsolably, and not from the physical pain.  A gentle hand on her shoulder set her into the wall hard enough to shake loose a portrait.
"Pavlov's dogs have nothing on you," he whispered to himself in awe.
Although Emily sobbed hard, Bill felt even worse because he couldn't even comfort her physically, and she was beyond listening.  Feeling useless, he banged his head against his pillow in frustration.
Emily got dressed and fled, jogging to school to burn off her negativity.  Bill didn't try to stop her.  Instead he put faith in a long list of suggestions that he had repeated to her all weekend long.  What other choice did he have?
Fucking Mondays.  When the world ends -- whether with a big bang or a silent whimper -- it's gonna happen on a Monday.
Emily stopped to buy a bagel for breakfast and found a bunch of $20's in her purse with a Love You note attached, which only made her feel even less deserving of such a wonderful man.  
"I can't catch a break," she whispered between heavy breaths.
Turns out she didn't do any homework over the weekend, so she rushed to the library to catch up.  Three classes in a row helped her pass the morning thinking about something else besides fucking up the perfect relationship, but then she had a free hour to torture herself.  Crossing the campus, she checked her phone and found a message from Bill.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may now fuck Emily Cooper."
Even before she heard him snap his fingers, her legs started trembling.  With a startled cry she collapsed on the campus lawn as another powerful orgasm shook her body like a baby rattle.  The same vivid wedding video that she had watched a dozen times over the weekend under hypnosis now flashed before her eyes.  Her body cruelly responded on cue as her pelvis bucked wildly, saturating her blue jeans.  She had no idea how loud she screamed, but apparently the entire campus heard her.  Something hard was forced into her mouth, gagging her.  It never occurred to Emily to open her eyes because she saw herself marrying Bill so clearly.
When she came to, the embarrassed girl saw the campus cop pull a physics textbook out of her mouth, complete with teeth marks.  A silent mob surrounded her, many chuckling over their camera phones.  The realization that so many had watched her cum hit her hard enough to knock her out. 
If she scared them before, now she terrified them because they thought her dead.
Emily woke up at the Student Health Center, only to see an old fat face staring down at her.  She screamed in fright and leapt off the cot, ignoring shouted pleas to stay.  Sprinting across campus, she targeted her next classroom like a mouse needing a hole.
Only to literally bump into Derrick, knocking him on his ass.
"I'm so sorry!"
The stud looked up at her in shock.  "You must have seen me!  Why didn't you stop?"
Emily shook her head to clear her vision, but still couldn't see him clearly.  "You deliberately stood in my way?"
"Of course!  I need to know why you bailed on me last Friday."
She circled him warily.  "Oh, so you must be Darren."
"Derrick!" he angrily corrected her.  
"That's what I said.  Daryl."
He got up and got into her face.  Now that she couldn't possibly not see him, something rumbled in her stomach that alarmed her and disgusted him, like a belch that stays in the stomach.  He backed up like she swallowed a grenade.  Emily rushed towards the nearest trash can, looking like a cat choking on a hair ball, and vomited that bagel disturbingly loud.  It took forever, too, to get rid of every last drop of moisture rising in her throat.  The moment she sensed him enter the classroom, however, she immediately felt much better.  A dozen students stared at her with concern or derision, so she marched to the bathroom to clean up.  Having washed her face, she looked blankly into the mirror, seeing yet not seeing.  It felt like a hangover, but she hadn't been drinking.
Then it hit her:
Bill!  
He used hypnosis so she had trouble seeing Derrick, then couldn't say his name.  The sight of him made her nauseous.  Bill used hypnosis like a grizzly clawing trees to mark his territory.
A part of her said she should be mad at him, but the rest of her started laughing uncontrollably -- he probably implanted that suggestion, too.  Her increasingly hysterical laughter scared the hell out of a freshman who sprinted from her stall and out the door like a ninja.  When relative control returned, Emily called Bill -- who can't take calls during sessions -- to leave him a message.
"I love you so fucking much.  I am going to suck you off today and spend the rest of my life with you.  Help me work this out and I will make you ridiculously happy."
She liked that phrase: ridiculously happy.  That's how Bill made her feel.  When Emily looked in the mirror, she found she couldn't stop smiling.
'I'll just have him hypnotize me so I can get laid again," she vowed, newly energized.  Then she opened the door, only to see Derrick blocking her way.
"Go away, Dennis.  Looking at you makes me sick."
Stunned, he aborted his prepared speech between conception and birth.  Emily swatted his arm away with her backpack and entered her Human Sexuality classroom a different person.  
"Derrick," he angrily yelled after her.  "My fucking name is Derrick!"

CHAPTER 13

Bill got off the phone totally bummed out.
"Your brother Richard again?" Emily guessed, holding up her tits to him.  Ever since getting the breasts implants, Emily walked around the house naked.
"Yeah.  Listen, I have an odd family, so you should invite your parents to the wedding so you have someone normal to talk to."
"What did Richard want?" she asked.  
"To brag about the luxury yacht he may buy.  A Goldman Sachs buddy is getting a divorce and wants to sell it real cheap, if he gets half the price in cash so his ex doesn't find out.  To close the sale, the guy packed the boat with hookers.  Now he wants us to arrive a few days early so he can take us to the Cayman Islands.  Without the hookers," he added.
Bill held out his phone so Emily could see the photo of his brother and the bitches on the yacht.
"But he's getting married Saturday!" 
"He says getting lots of 'strange' now will help him endure monogamy longer.  Not that he intends on staying monogamous long."
"What a pig!"
"Since he and his buddies started that hedge fund to bet on the collapse of the mortgage industry, he has acted like he is better than everyone just because he's rich.  Wealth makes the rich feel superior.  You should see the crap he pisses away his money on -- speaking of which, he spent $40,000 on a commode!  That he doesn't even use because he doesn't want to soil it!  He already shares ownership of a Gulfstream with his Wall Street buddies, and now he wants to buy a multi-million dollar yacht.  He thinks he can buy anything."
"He can't buy me," Emily boasted, gently pushing Bill against the wall so she could feel him up.
"Oh, he'll probably try.  I haven't told my family about you just to surprise the fuck out of them."
"What should I do if he propositions me?" she asked, loosing and lowering his pants.
"I don't mind if he paid for you, as long as he didn't actually get you.  We should buy a spy camera online and have them overnight it so I can see the look on his face when you turn him down."
"You wouldn't mind if I tease him?"
"I would love you to tease him!  He needs to know he can't buy everything and everyone.  Just because money makes your life better doesn't mean it makes you better."
She noticed his cock suddenly harden, so she got on her knees and freed it from its underwear.  It smacked her cheek with a satisfying whack.
"We should have sex in front of him.  Lots of sex.  I want everyone to see you fuck me."
Bill laughed mischievously.  "He'll assume you're a hooker.  A very expensive hooker.  I wonder how much he would offer."  Emily answered by bobbing on his nob that much faster.  Bill was careful not to touch her -- something they still needed to work on.  "Especially after he sees you swallow me with a smile.  He says his fiancée won't take it in the mouth and prostitutes wisely insist on condoms.  Given that he's fucked hundreds of women, it's safe to assume he has caught something nasty by now."  Bill moaned.  Christ, he was getting close!  "Hell, he would probably empty his wallet if you gave him a naked lap dance."  He heard Emily whimper with desire.  "Wave your pussy in his face and he would pay anything to fuck you."
With the image of his lifemate giving his asshole brother a naked lap dance, Bill erupted like Mount St. Helens, spewing hot lava down Emily's throat.  She kept using her lips to pump his cock until she drained him, only then swishing her tongue around her mouth and swallowing.  Because she made him cum several times a day, he didn't have much because she always emptied him of every last drop.  
Bill's eyes rolled up into his head because his balls painfully tingled.  Instead of running to spit into the sink, Emily stayed on her knees to soak up the experience.  "I swear: only lobster can compete with your juice."
"Which only revs up your appetite for more of my juice.  It's a win-win."
She stood up to stare into his gorgeous blue eyes.  With both hands she unexpectedly grabbed his head and kissed him.  She must have forgotten that she just swallowed his cum because her tongue snaked its way into his mouth.  The taste of his own sperm horrified and excited him on a level he never knew existed.  Her passion broke down his defenses as he let this total hottie press her naked body against his, careful to keep his hands off her to avoid another Pavlovian response.  He could tell she was overheating with desire, and he never knew what would happen next.
Next, she grabbed him by the shirt and threw him on the couch.  Now, at least, he knew what was coming next.  Sure enough, she sat on his face and buried her pussy in his open mouth.  Then he remembered that he came in her just an hour ago.  Did she wash his juice out?  To find out, he arched his tongue as deep as possible inside her, carefully lashing his arms against his sides to not freak her out.  Again.  It took a moment, then he heard her do a Kegel exercise, and bam!  A large drop of cum soaked his tongue, disgusting him.  Yet, the more repellent the act, the naughtier it made him feel.
"There it is!" he heard his girlfriend yell as his dick stood up, so soon after cuming again.  It embarrassed him so much that tasting his own cum hardened his cock.  Bill swooned when she engulfed his penis.  Ever since she learned to take it all in her mouth, he made sure he kept his pubes trim.  In return, she shaved her pussy.  Like it or not -- and he definitely fucking liked it -- he was her prisoner because she could touch him, but he couldn't touch her.  Which meant they could be here a while since they both loved oral sex.
Ironically, he never excelled at eating pussy until he discovered how easily his tongue made Emily orgasm.  Then he made it his purpose in life to perfect the art of cunnilingness.  Unfortunately, while men prefer feedback, women expect mind reading, so he had to teach Emily to give him timely and accurate information.  Now it was like a home security system: once you know the code, you can make it scream anytime you want.  Which was frequently.
While many guys gargle mouthwash after licking snatch, Bill gargled before to not spoil the taste because the aftertaste of a diet Coke once ruined it for him.  He loved how she smelled, felt, and tasted.  The texture of her labia intoxicated him.  Even after she worked out.  
Except he never touched her during sex.  Before and after, he touched her as much as she could tolerate, and every week she could handle more.  Just never unexpectedly or she would fly away.  It worked best when she saw it coming and could brace herself.  His latest trick was getting her to beg him to touch her -- twist her nipples, caress her ass, or finger her clit.  He would get her all riled up, literally yelling at the top of her impressive lungs, then, at his touch, her conflicting emotions would battle it out.  It was pretty awesome to watch.  
To her shock, Emily also discovered she was ticklish.
After watching hours of massage videos online, Bill became quite good at it.  He would place his weight onto her lower back as she lay in bed on her stomach, then his hands would work themselves towards her extremities.  Her arms and legs still flailed when touched, but pinning her body down helped her gain control over her body.  Not that she ever relaxed, but she didn't tense up nearly as much.
His balls needed time to recharge, so he started finger fucking her while latching his lips on her clit.  She kept his cock in her mouth, but was too overwhelmed by emotion to actually suck it.  Bill loved how her big tits swayed back and forth.  When her face looked like she was about the have a heart attack, he went for the kill -- speeding up his fingers and nibbling harder.  
Bill fucking loved this part.  Examining her wet pussy, inhaling her unique scent, listening to her breathing change, as she switched gears and raced down the freeway.  Given her singing background, her scream started deep within her and took its time coming out.  Then it vibrated his cock, still in her mouth, before pounding his ear drums and threatening the windows.  It lasted forever, too.  Bill could belch the alphabet quicker.  Some singers can pick up a note and carry it forever.  That was Emily, her whole body shaking, as she vented her pain through her powerful vocal cords.  It struck like a thunderstorm, charging the room with electricity.  The living room was not so much silent, as stunned, by her scream.
Bill quickly grabbed the camera and took pictures while she still laid there in shock, her skin flush, her heart racing, and her mind fucking blown.  Her mouth still formed an "o."  Her dilated eyes could pass for a mannequin.
"You have never looked more beautiful," he told her, though she was still too far in the zone to actually hear him.
It often took her several minutes to recover from a strong orgasm, but after a half hour she began to worry him.  Scared, she got a water bottle and fed her tiny amounts until she gagged.  Finally she blinked, shook her head, and sat up with the agility of a stoner, swaying back and forth until she planted both feet on the floor.  She looked like a skyscraper during an earthquake.
"You okay?"
It took her a long minute to bring him into focus.  "I floated over my body.  I heard you tell me I was beautiful, and I watched you pour water into my mouth, but I couldn't do anything.  I've never seen myself from that angle before.  It was like being a mirror."
"I'll try not to make you cum so hard," he managed to say with a straight face.
She didn't seem to hear him.  "William, I love you so much!"
He knelt before her and she collapsed into his arms, sobbing.  She didn't even flinch as he held her, but he also didn't tempt fate by moving his hands around.  He whispered trigger words to calm her down, until finally she fell asleep, sitting on the couch.  He lowered her down so she could sleep and thanked God that his touch didn't freak her out.
Bill sat on the coffee table, amazed by the naked woman on his sofa.  When she first moved in, she woke up frequently and couldn't get her heart rate to slow.  Now, however, she breathed so lightly that he had to check to make sure she was alive.  He had never seen her so relaxed, so drained of negativity.  Emily practically glowed.
Every birthday, his mother always asked him if he was happy.  He always said yes, but rarely meant it.  But now he could not believe how things changed.  It was like the planets aligned to give him everything he wanted, except riches.  Happiness permeated every cell of his body.  Normally an anxiety-prone worrier, Bill radiated contentment.
And all because he took a chance on love.  Again.

CHAPTER 14

Bill and Emily got off their plane in Miami to find a chauffeur holding a sign with their names.  An hour later, the limo dropped them off at the wharf.  Richard, dressed to impress, walked down the gangway to greet them.
"Billy!  How do you like your hotel?" he yelled over the pigeons, gesturing to the yacht.
Loaded down with luggage, Bill struggled to look dignified.  "It looked bigger in the photos."
Richard, that fucking dick, staring at Emily, gave his little brother a theatrical hug.
"Richy, this is my fiancée, Emily."  Bill stepped between them so his brother didn't freak her out with a hug.
"Jesus, are you guys monogamous?"
"Yes!" Bill said instantly, hating how his brother could push his buttons.
"Just not to each other," Emily jokingly added.
Richard's eyes grew almost as big as his sunglasses as he leisurely checked her out, from head to toe.  "You're the second most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
"Yes, your bride-to-be is gorgeous," Emily parried, repulsed by his pigishness.
"Oh, I meant my daughter.  My bride, Penelope, is pretty hot, though."
"How many kids to you have?" Emily wanted to know.
"Two boys and a girl, eight, ten, and twelve years old.  I'm the only kid Penelope wants to have."  He laughed too loudly at his weak joke.  "She and her girlfriends are still in Manhattan trying to think of last-minute changes so things don't go smoothly.  I'm flying them down on my private jet on Friday, when we get back from the Cayman Islands."
"Three kids with three different ladies," Bill made sure to point out.
That did not surprise Emily.  "What's in Cayman?"
Richard smiled smugly.  "Experts appraised the yacht at $4 million.  A friend getting a divorce is willing to sell it for $2 million, if we value it at $1 million on the sales agreement and I secretly give him the other million in cash.  Which is in Cayman.  His wife will get half a million instead of two million, while he gets a million that the IRS doesn't know about, plus another $500,000 to hide it in, while deducting a $3 million loss on his taxes."
"A million is a lot of cash to carry.  I assume you don't plan on reporting it."
"In return for paying him here, in the States, I save $2 million on this beauty."  Richard clearly thought he looked smart, not criminal.  "Come, let me give you the grand tour."
Richard tried to hold her hand, but she was too quick.  Shrugging it off, he led her up the plank, leaving Bill to drag all the baggage to the cabin.  Several crew members watched, but didn't offer to help.  No sooner did he flop on his bed, exhausted, than Emily burst in, really excited.
"This boat's got a damn Jacuzzi!"  She quickly undressed to put on a tiny bathing suit.  "Hurry into your trunks -- they're already casting off!  He says my mom and Joel can check out the ship when they fly into town on Friday."
"Has he hit on you yet?" Bill wanted to know.
Emily paused.  "He asked whether I'm really your girlfriend.  I told him yes, but I don't think he believed me, so I said you've spent a fortune on me.  He offered to double it."
Bill shook his head.  "I wonder how much he would really offer."
"It doesn't matter.  I am yours, only yours, and yours forever."  She bent over to kiss his forehead, never imagining how much she would soon betray those words.  "Still, it is flattering to wonder just how much that pompous ass would pay to have sex with me.  I have to admit, I'm curious."
"Of the sex or the offer?"
She slapped his hand.  "William Cooper, I'm putting you in charge of my sex life.  I'll do whatever you decide."
"You could start by giving me a kiss."  That was their word for a blowjob.
She laughed.  "Let's make him watch."
An hour later, the three of them sipped margaritas in the Jacuzzi while soaking in the open ocean, the Florida mainland far behind them over the horizon.  
"A beautiful day for a cruise!" Richard yelled over the hull splitting open the seas.  All three had been drinking heavily.
"I'm sorry Penelope couldn't join us as planned," Emily said.  "It's weird being the only girl on board."
"Oh, Penelope and her mother keep arguing over the damn wedding dress.  It's gonna cost me almost $100,000 by the time they finish with all their alterations.  I can't believe I have to go a week without getting off."
Nothing about missing the love of his life.  A part of Emily shuddered, but another part decided to rub it in.  "That sucks for you, but I hope you don't mind if Bill gets some."
"From what I know of my little brother, he needs all that he can get."
"Good!"  Emily suddenly tore Bill's trunks off.  He barely had time to raise his hips or risk losing some buttock.  She fondled him as Richard nearly choked on his drink.  "You can look, but not touch," she told Richard while undoing her bikini top.  Suddenly free, her melons attempted flight.  They defied gravity like the Saturn 5.  Bill sat on the edge and Emily eagerly swallowed his cock down to the base.  He had trimmed his pubes to not tickle her nose.
"Another one, please," Bill said to the server, waving his empty glass.
"And I'll take whatever he's having," Richard joked, kind of.
Several crew members soon appeared, inconspicuously in the background.
Bill made sure he brought his camera.  "Bro, do me a favor and film this."
Astonished, Richard finished his drink and threw the glass over the side.  Instead of going two sizes bigger, Emily opted for three, so her oversized breasts dwarfed her slim waist and hard abs.  He centered the frame on her, while keeping as much of his brother literally out of the picture as possible, and vowed to demand a copy of the video.  As a seasoned porn connoisseur, Richard had seen more than his share of porn, but never had he been denied something that he wanted so bad.  
They deliberately didn't have sex the day before, so Bill had a full tank to fuel his engine.  That last margarita really hit the spot -- Emily was flying without a safety net.  She bobbed up and down on his rock hard cock with the enthusiasm of a fag.  She loved how her lips passed over the head and slid down the shaft to his pubes.  Her mother had taught her to relax the gag reflex -- which takes a lot of practice -- but she finally nailed it.  Which let her concentrate on speed.  Emily shifted gears, going faster and faster.  She'd later blame it on the booze, but she suddenly shoved her middle finger up Bill's ass, who yelped like a sea lion.  They had never tried that before, but it felt great -- at least, for her.  Doing this on camera just turned her on that much more.  Emily felt so unlike the scared and scarred wimp she used to be just a month ago.  She couldn't wait to see the look on that dick's face when Bill shot his wad in her mouth.  Everything, from Bill's juice to the expression on their faces, would be delicious.
She just hoped that asshole didn't try to touch her.
"Oh, geez, God, oh, shit, ahhhh!"
Emily felt his penis head expand in her mouth.  "Shoot it into my mouth, bitch!"
She knelt in the water as Bill furiously spanked his monkey hard.  Emily looked right into the camera and smiled like a Girl Gone Wild.  Then her fiancé howled like an untamed beast.  His first wad splashed her face, as she intended.  The next four shots landed deep in her open mouth, filling it up.  She smiled proudly, careful to show the camera.  Then, theatrically for effect, she swallowed all that cum.  Next, she licked her lips, then wiped her face carefully with her finger, each time sucking the juice off like it was the last potable water on Earth.  Bill, however, wasn't done.  He swung his pole between her and the camera to show a big drop glistening on the tip of his penis.  Her eyes ballooned as she instinctively engulfed the only cock she has ever voluntarily known.  
A moment of silence reflected the enormity of the accomplishment.  Then a dozen pairs of hands enthusiastically applauded.  Emily looked around to see the entire fucking crew cheering her.  Flattered, she stood up to give them a better view of her naked body, never guessing she had an exhibitionist streak.  In just a month, she transformed from one extreme into another.
"Get your cameras, boys, cuz the show will go on."  Like ninjas, they disappeared for their camera phones.
"Who the fuck is driving the boat?" Bill wondered.
"Do you mind if they watch?" Emily asked the love of her life.
"Hell, no.  They can jack off on you, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind.  With the mood I'm in, I say, the more the merrier."
Bill, suddenly feeling superior, looked his brother in his eyes.  "You heard her, bro.  You can cum on her tits, but not touch her."
Richard already had a huge boner, so Emily helpfully pulled down his swimming trunks and sprang back as it jumped at her.  He didn't become rich squandering opportunities, so he grabbed his dick and rubbed himself raw.  By the time the rest of the crew returned, Richy was screaming at the clouds as he rained down on some of the best tits Dr. Weinstein ever implanted.  Then he collapsed like a marathon runner.
Emily, feeling her oats, stood up and slowly took off her red thong.  She tossed it to Richard with a smile and walked over to the awed deck hands, naked.  As she lay on a lounge chair, Bill set the rules.
"You can all jack off on her, but you cannot touch her.  Richy, fetch me your pistol so they know I'm serious."
Unwilling to end the show, Richard did just that, running like a school boy.  A young Cuban and an older man with an eastern European accent were the first to step up to the plate.  The other half dozen soon followed, surrounding Emily like a naked fence.  Bill circled them, alternating between pictures and videos, focusing on her face while never recording theirs.  
She looked so beautiful, Bill thought, naked, yet in control.  She smiled up at them, praising their penises.  He looked down to see his own cock rock hard, so soon after cuming.  He had never feel hornier.
"Can I touch them?" she asked him, as if they were puppies.
"You can do anything you want with them, as long as they don't touch you."
That shocked everyone, including himself.  "Anything?"
"Anything."  Bill decided to take control.  "Why don't you suck off the young guy while jacking off a few others."
She looked at him for a really long time, then at his boner, before smiling like she won the lottery.  She sat up and started smoking the Cuban's cigar while her hands masturbated a couple of pricks.  Richard ran out with his gun, then nearly shot his dick off at the scene before him.  The discovery that he shot his wad right before an orgy depressed him.
The older guy she was jacking off came first.  Emily quickly spit out one cock and fucking swallowed the exploding one.  Her head jerked back by the force of the blows.  Her fist a blur, she drained him of every drop and gave her opinion.
"You taste fucking awesome!"
Bill's penis jumped towards his belly button and the psychologist knew he was truly fucked.  The kid started screaming, so his fiancée went back to work, gobbling that sucker like a pro.  Just in time, she drank his entire load and looked around for more.
"You need to cum before you continue," Bill pointed out.  "Why don't you sit on that big dick."
Emily turned around and gasped at the size of the cock behind her.  Good thing she didn't look up because that dude must have had anti-cosmetic surgery cuz nobody can be born that hideous.  Beauty may be in the eyes of the beholder, but ugly is universal.  She pushed him into the nearest chair and worked her way down his pole, showing him her back.  Bill could have sworn her eyes dilated as she gasped and groaned in ecstasy.  Bill read the statistics, so he never felt inferior with his eight inch wiener, but God must have awarded this guy a huge cock as compensation for shortchanging him on everything else.  It was totally out of proportion, like the Elephant Man, except the other head.
"Steady me," Emily roughly commanded him.  Bill jumped to obey, kneeling so she could rest her hands on his shoulders.
She worked her way up and down a few times, to adjust to its fucking width, while Bill stared at the giant dong entering his lifemate's pussy.  Then, just moving her hips, she increased the tempo.  It looked like a dance move, except her ass slid up and down a really big dick.  Her legs must have buckled because she suddenly leaned on him.  Bill knew what was coming and plugged his ears with his fingers.  Her scream roared like the boom of a battleship over the ocean, knocking a bird out of the sky.  When she finally came to, she looked at him with pure gratitude.
"I love you so much," she said, then grabbed his head and kissed him, forcing her tongue onto his so he would taste the cum of strangers.  His initial disgust gave way to arousal since they tasted so much better than his own spunk.  She waved over the closest shipmate, grabbed his cock, and guided him to Bill's mouth.  When Bill's head jerked back, she smacked him across the face and ordered him to open his mouth.  Like an automaton, he did.  Then a total stranger pushed his sweaty dick in his mouth.  "Suck it, bitch."  Shocked, he did as he was told.
It took several tries before he got the hang of it, but now he could swallow most of it.  Later, Emily would confess that she assumed the stranger would have to hold his head while he fucked Bill's mouth, but no, Bill willingly went down on that sucker.
"You!" Emily commanded a bearded guy with a pot belly, who turned out to be their expensive chef.  "Fuck him up the ass!"
She put him into her mouth to lube him up, then a moment later Bill felt something entering his exit.  
"Ah!" Bill groaned in pain.  He tried to mutter something more, but the cock in his mouth kept getting in the way.  At first it felt no worse than Emily's finger, but then he started crying in pain like a little girl as the head expanded his a-hole.  
"Ahhh!" he grunted in agony.
She must have picked the biggest cock that she wasn't already using because it painfully stretched his anus.  He felt a hard hand slap his ass and that distracted him from the awesome fire in his butt.  For a moment he thought he had to shit, but the moment passed as the cock filled up his anus, and then some.  
"Ahhhhhh!"  Bill never imagined pain so excruciating.  He spread his legs wider to give the guy better access and soon he was getting drilled like an oil field.  But now, at least, the cock slid in and out of his asshole smoothly, as his muscles expanded to accommodate the intruder.
"Ahhhhhhhhh, yes!" he screamed triumphantly over the cock filling his mouth.
Emily, meanwhile, started eagerly sucking off another stranger while sliding up and down again on the giant cock.  Richard took close-ups of his brother taking two dicks at a time while giving running commentary, comments, and conclusions.
"I always knew little Willy had too much girl in him.  Look how he tackles that bait.  Take it like a man, bro.  Be a good girl and swallow.  Don't you dare spit on my weather deck."
The cock in Bill's mouth suddenly enlarged and Bill realized that he was about to get a mouthful of cum.  Terror filled his eyes.  He tried to get up, but the guy banging his ass rested his weight onto Bill's back, pinning him in place.  Two strong hands gripped his head and Bill braced himself for a homo's delight.  He feared what was to come like a kid in a dentist chair.  Then the cock exploded all over his tongue.
His initial reaction?  Not fucking bad.  Not bad at all.  Certainly not what he expected.  Really, what was the big deal?  He never imagined that other cum would taste so much better than his own.  Thick and salty, like leftover oysters.  While the first wad shocked him, the second gagged him, so he swallowed and readied himself for more.  He took the third and four shots of cum in stride, and actually felt disappointment at the small amount the fifth one gave him.  Through it all, as Emily carefully noted, he kept bobbing his head to drain every drop -- the stranger didn't have to fuck his mouth at all.  She concentrated on getting off the guy in her mouth, at the expense of her own orgasm.  Soon enough, he cried out and spewed deliciousness down her throat.
"Kiss me," she ordered Bill.  They stared at each other for a long time, then he started smiling, infectiously.  The dude ramming his ass smacked his butt cheeks hard while cuming up his ass, so Bill crawled forward once he pulled out to exchange spunk with the one he loved.
That is so gross," Richard remarked, making sure to get a close up as their white tongues dueled like swordsmen.  The older brother sported another boner, so it couldn't have been too gross.
Emily now focused on her own orgasm, going up and down that giant flagpole while trading cum with her boyfriend.  Faster and deeper she went until he filled her up completely.  The ugly dude started calling out to God, warning her.  It was all just too much.  Overwhelmed by sensation, she cried rather than screamed when the wave hit her.  She collapsed on the deck, spent.
"I want to suck your juices off him," Bill explained, as he crept on all fours and tried to get as much of that monster down his throat as possible before it went limp.  The mixture of both their juices thrilled him.  Like peanut butter and chocolate, it was better together than either separately.  I need to taste this more often, he told himself.
She knew she couldn't handle ten guys by herself, so she laid Bill down and sat on his face.  She waved a muscular Latino over, who obeyed while complaining that he wanted "chimba."  Instead, she ordered him to fuck Bill up the ass.  
"Don't be gentle with him," she told the new guy.
"Lady, you sure?" he asked, gesturing to his whopper.  "This is a tiburon compared to the pescadido he took last time."
She had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but later he explained that he had a shark compared to the little fish that fucked Bill's ass the first time.  She seemed determined, so he got on his knees and did the prison dance.
Bill, on his back, trying to suck cum from his fiancée’s pussy, farted when rough hands spread his legs over someone's shoulders to get the right angle.  Instead of tensing up, he tried to relax his ass muscles.  This time, the bulbous head stretching his sphincter made him swoon.  He knew immediately it was much bigger and he feared he couldn't take it.  The first one only felt big compared to Emily's finger.  He arched his tongue deeper into Emily to distract him as another cock began thrusting its way up inside him.  Once the fucker got his rhythm, the pain turned to pleasure.  Sure, it hurt, but it hurt so good.  
Bill lapped up another stream of cum, then turned his head to see why Emily was grunting.  He looked up past her great breasts to see her sucking off another total fucking stranger.  With gusto, he could tell.  He always wondered if she faked sucking him because she knew he loved it so much.  Now the verdict was in: Emily loved sucking cock.  And not just his.  This one was a little smaller than his, which allowed her to swallow it that much easier.  Indeed, how fast she bobbed up and down impressed him.  And she wasn't doing it to please a stranger.  She was doing it because she fucking loved it.
The Latino accepted his fate and fucked the shit out of Bill.  Literally.  All that cock constipated him.  He leaned forward, Bill's feet by his head, taking it almost all the way out before shoving it all the way in.  It wasn't pussy, but it did the trick.  He swore in Spanish while he came hard.
"Puto, joto, marigon, cabron, guebon, mamon!"
The new guy must have been hard for a long time because he didn't last long.  He made up for it by having a gallon of spunk.  Emily couldn't swallow fast enough, so some dripped out of one side of her mouth.  She quickly turned around to kiss Bill.  He opened his mouth, then yelped when a mouthful of cum poured in, gagging him. Richard instantly positioned himself behind her, to fuck her on all fours.
"Dude, you're getting married Saturday!  You can't cheat on a bride right before the wedding."  She waved over a balding fat dude instead.  "I want you to cum inside me."
Delighted, the senior citizen pushed a stunned Richard aside and quickly found what he was looking for.  When his cock entered her, his sigh of joy could be heard almost to the Bahamas.  Every man on board knew what that felt like.  Males spend nine months leaving the womb, then all their adult lives trying to get back in.  
"You can't be serious!" Richard argued.  "I'm going crazy here.  I need to get off."
"If you want to ruin your marriage, you'll have to find someone else to do it with."
Richard had a hard time hearing her say no.  He stared at her in disbelief, only to conclude that she looked like she meant what she said.  Furious, he considered his alternatives.  When his gaze hovered over his brother's ass, Emily broke off feeding Bill cum to abort that baby before birth:
"No fucking way!  Don't you dare fuck your brother up the ass."
Richard pleaded innocence.  "I would never do that!  I'm no gay queer fag homosexual."
In fact, Richard loved to screw over his brother.  He just had never done so literally before.
Bill now woke up to the threat.  He turned over and rolled away.  His ass hurt too much already.  "And don't let Richard cum in your mouth!  He's got something with a really long name that I can't remember."
Richard clinched his fists in frustration.  "It's harmless.  Many people have it.  It doesn't affect your health at all."
Emily laughed.  "You're gonna have to think of a better argument than that.  Now, Bill, crawl under me in a 69 so I can suck your cock."
Richard threw his hands in the air, then marched over to where he left the pistol.  Turning around, he saw his brother's face just inches from an old dick ramming that yummy young pussy.  Emily busied herself giving her boyfriend the blowjob of a lifetime.  Richard never gave up, but he did learn the value of tactical retreats, like when a trade turned bad.  Rather than torture himself watching his little brother get it on with one of the most desirable women he had ever seen, he locked himself in the main cabin to beat off.

CHAPTER 15

It took the rest of the trip for Bill and Emily to sleep off all the drugs that Richard slipped in their margaritas, so he didn't disturb them until the yacht entered the Grand Cayman harbor.
"Bro, I need you to watch my back because I'll be packing a lot of cash when I leave the bank.  Emily, please carry this satellite phone in case I need help.  I wrote down several numbers, starting with the Cayman police."  Richard debated how much to tell them.  Then he took out the gun.  "I can't go into the bank with this, so I'd like for you to wait outside with it.  Just in case."
"You expecting trouble?" Bill asked, alarmed.  Now he understood why Richard wanted to take him to the Caribbean: because he needed a bodyguard he could trust.  He should have known that his brother would not be doing him any favors for free.
"Look: one particular trade threatens our hedge fund.  I have three partners and this one bad trade could wipe us out.  We've already maxed out our line of credit, and we should be able to ride it out, but I'm more pessimistic than my partners.  Penelope hopefully doesn't know it yet, but I've already sold the summer home in Martha's Vineyard and I maximized the home equity line of credit on the Manhattan condo.  I liquidated the Tesla and the art collection because the next few years could be really rough.  I don't know how I'm gonna survive on just a quarter-million a year."
"What have you done?" Bill demanded.  "I'm not going to jail for you.  After you drugged our drinks, I doubt I can trust you at all.  You haven't even apologized yet."
Richard raised his palms.  "Hey, I did you a favor, putting those roofies in your margaritas.  And I even gave her Plan B pills so she didn't get pregnant by the crew.  As for business, I haven't told my partners that I'm withdrawing from our corporate accounts.  They think I'm just pooling enough cash to buy this yacht.  Which would be foolish since our creditors would repossess it."
"Expecting trouble from the government?"
"Actually, no.  We only pay 15% on our profits, so it's hardly worth cheating on our taxes.  Although I don't plan on declaring the money with customs when we enter port."
"So why go behind your partners' backs?"
"If that trade gets worse, then our creditors will go after us, after they liquidate the fund.  We have personally indemnified our latest loans and lines of credit, so everything we own can be taken.  We all are responsible for 100%, yet the more my partners pay, the less they will be seeking from me."
"$10,000," Emily suddenly insisted.
"What?"
"If Bill must risk his life so you can live on easy street, then you must pay him $10,000.  And if his life or liberty are threatened, then you owe him $100,000 and all his legal expenses."
"That's crazy!  There shouldn't be any problems.  All he has to do is follow me from the bank in a taxi."
"And, if necessary, shoot anyone who tries to rob you."
Fucking Richard just shrugged.
An hour later, customs finished inspecting the yacht, including the safe, and let them disembark.  Richard left first, disguised as a tourist with a big backpack.  Bill followed fifteen minutes later and had lunch at a cafe with a great view of the bank.  Just in case, he talked to Emily the whole time using satellite phones.  He watched Richard leave, hailed a cab, and followed.  By the time he arrived at the dock, he saw his brother clamor aboard with visible relief.  He apparently ordered the crew to cast off, given the activity on the deck.  He raced up the gangway, with Emily tracking him the whole time.
"You better watch the crew so nobody tries anything," Emily said in greeting.  "I'll get your money."
She rushed to get into the cabin before Richard could lock it.  "I'll take that ten grand now."
Obviously flustered, Richard shot back, "In a minute!"
She put her foot in the door and, sure enough, Richard tried to slam it in her face.  "My boyfriend still has your gun," she pointed out.
"Jesus!"  He lifted the false floor, unlocked the safe, and poured the money in.  He noticed how big her eyes got.
"Fuck me.  How much is that?" she asked after locking the cabin door behind her.
"A little over five million."
"And it's all really yours?"
"Most of it."  He paused to work out the math.  "Well, just over half."
She hated his smug little smirk.  "I wonder if I could persuade Bill to throw you overboard, cuz that's a lot of fucking money.  You already know how much he despises you."
Startled, he stopped playing with his money to size her up.  "That's not fucking funny."
"In return for cash and sex, I bet the crew would play along.  Who would mourn you?"
This only confirmed his worst suspicions about her.  "What the fuck do you want?"
"You stole money that you have no intention of reporting, which we could go to jail for.  And, if we had health problems or were taking medication, the drugs in your margaritas could have killed us.  5% is small compensation for risking several years of our lives."
"You can't be serious," he said, although he clearly thought she was serious.
"Bill may not be greedy, but I could retire on that.  I made Bill take cock up the ass and down the throat.  You really doubt that I couldn't persuade him or the crew to throw you overboard?"
"But that's $250,000!"
"Plus the $10,000.  Put this in perspective: you'll still have over $2 million that doesn't belong to you.  The bank helpfully wrapped them in stacks of $5000.  Hand over 52 stacks or I'll take them all over your dead body."
Richard looked hard at his options, and didn't like them.  Something deflated inside him as he started stacking bundles of cold hard cash.  
"Our creditors would just have seized their money anyways.  Now, at least, they won't be able to find it."
"No wonder your parents named you Richard.  You really are a dick."
This pissed him off.  "Nice guys don't succeed in finance.  You can't make serious money without learning how to exploit leverage, as you just proved."
Emily paused to center the spy-cam in her necklace on his face.  "Why are you really getting married now?"
"Why would I get married when I'm making several million a year that's taxed at half the rate that teachers pay?  She'd get half of that.  Why would I buy the cow when I get milk on demand?  I know I'm not as good looking as my brother, but my wealth makes me much more attractive.  You think Penelope would look at me twice if I made what my brother makes?"  He stopped to laugh.  "Wake up.  Penelope is only marrying me because she's getting too old for modeling and her early success gave her a big appetite for the good life.  To keep her, I have to give her that life."
"Do you even love her?"
He had to think about that.  "I enjoy her.  She's very pleasant company.  It's ironic.  I know she doesn't love me, but she'll still marry me, yet I've loved several women -- even had kids with three of them -- yet never felt compelled to marry them.  People should not marry for love.  Love is an insufficient reason to marry.  You should marry when you find someone to share the next decade with." 
"If you're not having kids with her, why get married at all?"
"Because my peers are married and I need someone to go with me to the charity balls, exclusive clubs, and luxury resorts.  The elite will judge me on my wealth and the attractiveness of my wife, so marrying a young hottie makes for good business.  Plus, we both like to feel superior to the masses.  We rich have our own communities, schools, and transportation.  I have more in common with rich foreigners than blue collar Americans.  They say the secret to a happy marriage is a blind wife and a deaf husband, but it doesn't hurt if the wife is hot and the husband rich."
He held up $10,000.  "You can double this with just one blowjob.  I doubt I'd last a minute with you."
"I'm going to marry your brother."
Richard laughed.  "Don't give me that shit.  I know he hired you to make him look good.  Hell, I admire him for it.  It's what I would have done.  And he wisely paid top dollar, too."
"I am not a prostitute!" Emily insisted.  This brute infuriated her.
"Don't get all high and mighty with me, you fucking extortionist!  Everyone should get paid for services rendered in a free market.  Why should sex be any different?  Sex is the only act that is legal if free and illegal if paid for.  It makes no damn sense.  Every city should have a red light district with legal, regulated prostitution, like in Europe.  Police could focus on real crime, fewer women would be unemployed, and fewer guys would enter doomed marriages.
"Few women are whores, but all women are prostitutes.  They all say they marry for love, but rarely does a hottie wed some poor schmuck with no prospects.  Smart women always factor in economic considerations.  Only the dumbest of bitches marries a man who cannot support them.  You screw guys for better reasons than I do, so I'm not throwing stones here.  I'll fuck over a guy just because he's respected more, got a higher bonus, or has a hotter wife.  You -- you just screw guys for money.  Clearly, you are the better person."
"You don't think I live with your brother?"
"I don't think you moved in just for love.  You're saving a buck, or avoiding strict parents, or he lives closer to your school.  You're not dumb, and there's nothing wrong with profiting from a personal relationship.  It's why people network in the first place.  Children of the elite don't go to Harvard for the education, but for the contacts they'll make."
Emily realized that she wasn't going to convince him that she wasn't a prostitute.  "You'd really pay me $10,000 for a blowjob?"
Now he looked happy.  He gestured to the safe full of cash.  "If you'd blow me in front of my brother.  Hell, if you agree not to have any sex with him, I'd pay you twice what he paid you.  Just out of spite.  He really shook me by bringing you along.  His ex'es were hot, but neither could compare to you.  And you got that innocent next-door-neighbor thing going, which turns me on.  You're the complete package."
"Maybe you should marry me instead of Penelope."
That lit up his face.  "I should!  Penelope insisted on a really tough pre-nup -- her heart is as calculating as mine.  It's the only thing I respect about her.   You're younger, hotter, and smarter.  Oh, hell yes, you'd make a great replacement wife.  A marriage to you would last years longer than one with Penelope.  I'll be the envy of the country clubs."
"I'd want a million dollar dowry the day we marry, in exchange for a less generous pre-nup."
"$100,000 and I'll give you Penelope's million dollar ring."
"No fucking way.  I could never marry an asshole like you.  Not even for a million bucks."  Emily paused so she could later cut the video here.  "Hey, you fucking shorted me a pack of Benjamins!"
He laughed at getting caught because he simply had no shame.  He smile as he handed over the missing $5000.
Once he closed the door after her, she fondled her spy-cam necklace to turn off the video.  She didn't want Bill to know that she extorted his brother.  In their cabin she used Bluetooth to transfer the video to her laptop, then edited out her extortion.
Stunned at what she did, her body started shaking.  She never would have dreamed of pulling off a heist like that, no matter how odious the victim.  Fortunately, her luggage locked, so she hid the money there because she knew Richard would try to steal it back.
Finally, she took out the camera that she stole from Richard and transferred the video to her computer so Richard couldn’t blackmail Bill later.  But watching the man of her dreams take cock up the ass and down the throat really turned her on, so she rushed on deck to fuck the hell out of her fiancé.  
Since they stopped drinking anything Richard prepared, they never repeated that first orgy.  In fact, when the roofies wore off, Emily couldn't get past the shame.  It's why she extorted her brother-in-law: to punish him and compensate Bill.  $260,000 was considerable compensation, but Emily still felt that she had to make it up to Bill.  She just couldn't think of how.

CHAPTER 16

Introducing Emily to Bill's parents, Todd and Shirley, went exactly as he expected: embarrassing.
"Holy crap!" his father exclaimed, before fake-punching him in the shoulder to show his approval.  "I taught him everything he knows about hypno-orgasms."
"Not everything," Emily replied with a knowing smile.  "Not anymore."
Bill's father laughed far too loudly, partly because his wife hated it.
"I hope this works out better than his last two relationships," mother interjected.  "Marriage ruins many happy relationships."
"Oh, our marriage will last," Emily said confidently.
"Really?  How can you be so sure?"
"Because this time he's not marrying a crazy bitch," said the girl who still needed intensive therapy.
"Billy, I like this one," father called out.  "She's a keeper."
"Oh, Bill isn't getting away from me.  I'm gonna start my doctorate program in the fall and join him in private practice."
"The other ex'es were smart and pretty, too," mother shot back.
"Mom, stop being a bitch on your son's wedding day," Bill demanded.  "Shouldn't you be depressing the bride?  You only have hours to work on her, but plenty of time to make Emily as bitter as you."
"She tried," dad said, "but Penelope just told her to fuck off."
"And that worked?" Bill asked, in fake awe.  "I should have tried that years ago."
"Penelope, at least, is marrying a success," mother proclaimed.  "Billy, you're just failing slowly.  You should have become a psychiatrist like me."
"Don't psychiatrists have the highest suicide rate of any profession?" Emily asked.
"That's only because Shirley depresses them at every convention!" Todd roared.
"Emily, let me introduce you to the other Coopers.  You'll enjoy them more."
"What a bitch!" Emily vented as soon as they walked away, being careful that Shirley heard her.
"You're preaching to the choir.  Richy was always her favorite, so his wedding has brought out more venom in her than usual.  The more money he makes, the more she assumes he can do no wrong.  Mom is the only woman in the world who doesn't think Rich is a royal prick.  Not even Penelope disagrees."
"Why do your parents stay married?" she wanted to know.
Bill laughed.  "They say they believe in Hell, but not in divorce."
Unfortunately, they didn't get to even meet the bride until after the first rehearsal, even though Bill was the Best Man.  They stood in the newly renovated St. Patrick's Cathedral, in a neighborhood of million dollar McMansions.
"Have you ever been a Best Man before?" Emily asked.
"No, but I once attended a nude wedding and I came," he held his index finger and thumb close together, "this close to being the best man."
She playfully slapped his arm.  "You make me laugh every day."
"Because you make me the happiest guy in the world."
"Keep that up, and you'll get lucky again soon."
"Then I better stop because my balls are already blue."
Emily laughed again.  "This church is gorgeous!  It has more windows than a skyscraper."
"Richy picked the most expensive looking cathedral in Miami.  They're doing seven weddings today.  I heard they charge a fortune."
"Penelope looks super nervous.  Should I give her my Valium?  I haven't had to take any since we got together."
"She doesn't smoke, but she sure looks like she needs a cigarette," Bill agreed.  "Somebody needs to ask her if she's okay.  My dumb brother doesn't even notice that his bride is on the verge of a nervous breakdown."
Once they completed the last rehearsal, everyone changed into their good clothes for the real thing.  Except Penelope.  As soon as Richard went outside to answer a phone call, the bride grabbed Bill's wrist and pulled him into a back room.  Not willing to let any bitch who looked that good take away her man, Emily followed.
"Bill, what's going on with Rich?" Penelope demanded angrily.
"How the fuck would I know?  I haven't seen him in four years."
"In just the last month, he has sold the summer house and mortgaged the principal house.  He sold my $100,000 Tesla and the art collection.  He can't sleep at night and drinks all day.  He takes every phone call in another room.  Why does he want to get married now?  I've been begging him for over a year, but now he insists on getting married right away or not at all.  Does he have health or legal problems?"
"Look, all that he has told me is that a big trade went bad, that it could bankrupt the hedge fund, so he is liquidating his assets so creditors don't have anything to take from him."
"I just don't know what to do.  If he wanted to marry me, he could have done it before.  I can't help escape the feeling that he wants to handcuff me to him so that I won't leave him when everything turns to shit."
Bill considered loyalty to his brother, then went with honesty.  "That does sound like him.  He's not gonna find anyone better than you once everyone who can Google knows what a piece of shit he is.  He needs to close the sale now because a month from now the bad publicity would overshadow any wedding."
Penelope was near tears.  "If I don't marry him now, he will never marry me later."
"Do you love him?" Emily softly asked.
"As much as any woman could care for someone so unlovable."  Penelope now gave Emily her full attention.  "Has he hit on you yet?"
"Would you blame him if he did?" Bill quickly countered.  
Penelope looked Emily over, head to toe.  "Fair point.  Hell, I'd probably hit that, and I haven't played for that team since high school."
"Really?" Emily asked, suddenly exuding sexuality.  "I'm curious how bi I am."
"Oh, honey.  If I wasn't such a wreck, I'd probably take you up on it, but I'm suppose to marry this guy in a half hour, and my hands won't stop shaking."
"That's all you need to know," Bill said.  "Both times I married, I knew it was wrong at the time because I was anxious as hell.  The lonely see anything as love.  But I could marry Emily tomorrow as calm as a lake."
"But what will my family say?  I've been dating him for two years.  I need to give them a good reason for not marrying the lying, cheating bastard."
"Aaaaah," Emily said before catching herself.
"What?" Penelope pounced.  "You fucking know something!"
"Yeah!" Bill added on.  "Is there something I should know?"
"I swear I never touched him and he never touched me," Emily said defensively.  
"But?" Bill and Emily asked at the same time.
"But he offered to marry me instead.  He said a marriage with me would last years longer than a marriage with Penelope."
"I don't believe it!"
"I can show you the video on my laptop."
"I totally believe it."
Indeed, neither seemed to doubt her in the least.  They watched the few minutes of video in silence.
"All of my friends were right," Penelope realized.  "That man is a giant asshole shitting on me."
"He has probably hidden a lot of cash in his house, if you know anyone you trust to look for it."
That made her swoon.  "Oh, oh.  I think I know where.  My brother didn't come here cuz he hates Richy.  Not only would he be happy to break in but, if caught, he could say I asked him to get something important for the wedding.  Which would even be true."
"What are you going to do about the wedding?" Emily asked.
"I need to email the video to myself, then blast it to everyone in my contacts."  She paused.  "Rich compiled my sexiest modeling pictures and videos into a best-of to make everyone envious of him.  I'll just switch the videos in his projector so everyone can watch him propose to someone he just met a few days before his wedding day.  I have just one question: Emily, why wouldn't you marry a guy who offers you a million dollar ring?'
"Because I don't want to be married to an asshole."
Penelope smiled for the first time.  "Good fucking answer.  I hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna use that line in my email.  Too bad my gorgeous wedding gown won't be used.  And I'd hate to return his million dollar engagement ring, but them's the rules."
Penelope held out her hand and the two of them gasped.  
"That's the best looking ring I have ever seen," Emily concluded.
"You want it?" 
"I'll take it," Bill quickly said, sliding the ring off her finger to the surprise of both ladies.
"You want my fucking gown, too?" Penelope joked.
"Yes!" Bill said.  He paused to smile at them, waiting for them to catch up.  Only when Penelope looked from him to Emily did Bill fall to one knee and hold up the ring to the love of his life.
"I cannot imagine living without you.  Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"
Emily didn't see this coming.  Her eyes rolled back and her legs faltered.  If Penelope didn't push a chair under her, she would have collapsed on the floor.
"Yes, you magnificent bastard!  Yes, I will marry you.  And, yes, I will spend the rest of my life with you!"
The three of them in tears, they group-hugged on their knees while they slipped the engagement ring on her finger.
"But how will we do it?" Emily asked.
"First you marry me, then I give you the other ring," Bill said with a straight face.
"No!  Everything else."
"Leave it to me," Penelope assured them.  "I've recently become an expert in weddings."

CHAPTER 17

They had to move fast.  Penelope wanted to surprise the fuck out of Richard, so she only told her father, who took Joel aside to ask if he would give away the new bride.  Bill had to borrow a tiny flash drive from the official photographer to swap videos in the computer projector.  Meanwhile, Penelope helped Emily put on her wedding gown.  Well, their wedding gown.  Whatever.
All of them watched Richard as he gave a big speech full of shit he didn't believe, before starting the video montage.  Unknown to him, the wedding photographer continued posting his video in real time on two giant screens, focusing on the groom's face.  When Richard's jaw dropped, Penelope hit "send" on her computer.  Dozens of smartphones suddenly rang, buzzed, and vibrated.  Then she stormed out before Richy could stop the bleeding.
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded of her, his face plastered on two screens so the entire audience could see his giant head.  
Dressed in jeans and a tight half-top that showed off her hard abs, Penelope looked really fuckable.  Even on screen.  "You offered a total stranger big bucks to marry you while I was busy organizing our wedding, so I'll tell you what's going on.  I am not marrying you.  And don't bother trying to explain yourself.  I just sent this video to everyone we know, plus Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter.  You can explain yourself to them.  Dad!"  A burly older guy in a nice fucking suit, followed by several other big follows, had been sneaking up on the groom.  "Escort this lying bastard out the door!"
"What?  You can't do that.  I paid for this wedding!"
Penelope's father, a former Marine, knew how to win that argument.  He grabbed Richy by the back collar and made him walk backwards down the isle.  When Richard fell, two of Penelope's relatives scooped up his legs and they literally threw him out of the church, with the photographer documenting it all for posterity.  And YouTube.  
As one, everyone in the pews stood up to applaud.
Except for Shirley.  "I flew a long way to see my son get married."
"And you shall," Penelope told her.  "William!  Joel!  Todd!  Let's get this done before the next wedding party kicks us out.  Father," she called out to the bewildered priest, "please take your place."
Bill marched out, his dad behind him to play the Best Man.  The new groom gestured for the keyboardist to start playing Here Comes The Bride.  When Emily walked out besides her step-father, people gasped.  Shirley fainted, so prayer may work after all.  While the groom looked serene, his father was practically jumping up and down in excitement besides him, which confused some guests as to which guy was getting married.
Emily walked zombie-like towards the alter, each step deepening her hypnosis.  Before her, Bill stood in his tux, waiting patiently, just like in her dreams.  She didn't hear the music so much as absorb it through her bones.  The chords vibrated inside her, making her feel out-of-body, if not out of her fricking mind.  This was exactly how her psychic therapist had her imagine their wedding, with the same tall ceiling, painted windows, and crowded pews.  A part of her struggled to determine if this was real or just another awesome hypno-fantasy, but her pussy slowly seeped moisture.  Besides her, Joel look equally stunned, and in need of some therapy himself.
When she reached the alter, Bill pulled back her white veil and whispered, "Where's your mom?"
The pastor started pontificating about the virtues and sanctity of marriage, so she scooted closer to give him his wedding presents.
"Hiding the bag of cash Richard foolishly left in the limo's trunk."
Bill's eyes widened, but his smile never faltered.  "You have all his cash, and yet you still want to marry me?"
"You saved my life, so I planning on spending the rest of my life repaying you.  And I want to start by compensating you for what happened on the boat."  Bill cocked his head, completely confused.  "Penelope wanted to give us the rooms she booked at the resorts in Paris, Madrid, and Rome but, although they're prepaid, apparently they're not transferable."  Emily paused to study him.  Nope, he still didn't see where this was headed.  Good!  "So I said she will just have to come with us.  After all, this was her wedding, her dress, and her ring.  She should, at least, go on her own honeymoon."
The priest's voice boomed over them, but he looked irritated that the bride and groom didn't listen to a damn word he said.  Bill, meanwhile, leaned closer because he was not sure he heard her right.
"She resisted until I told her about the hypno-orgasms."  This stunned him.  Good thing he didn't have to say "I do" because she rendered him speechless.  "I hope you can handle us both.  I can't wait to suck your cum from her cunt."
Bill's cock jumped to attention like a Marine.  "Will you always be this amazing?" 
"Yes," she answered with a tantalizing smile.
Bill could only stare at her, as hypnotized as she, as Father Timothy walked them to the big moment.  He watched her eyes dilate, her heartbeat increase, and her skin flush.  No one else had a clue that her body was preparing for the ultimate orgasm.  Bill could see in her eyes that she knew what was coming.  And fucking welcomed it.
The groom snapped his fingers, startling the minister, then whispered the magic words to prepare her: "Identify the strongest orgasm in your life, because the mega-orgasm you are about to have will hit you twice as hard, last three times as long, and will make you release everything negative you still cling to.  This super-orgasm will drain all tension from every muscle, nerve, and fiber of your body.  Your mind will go blank, your soul will purify, and your body will give itself up completely to the orgasm.  The harder you cum, the louder you will scream, and the louder you scream, the harder you will cum.  The more you fear it, and the more you resist it, the stronger you will orgasm.  Do you hear me?"  Emily nodded, looking frightened.  "Do you understand me?"  She shook her head emphatically.  "Do you feel it building up inside you like a tidal wave?"  The poor girl whimpered like a girl who needs to pee.
Hundreds of hypno-orgasms began with her visualizing her wedding, then cuming hard at the alter.  The reality of actually getting married, for fucking real, blew her away.  This one would top them all.
The priest finally got to his first question.  Everyone saw her say, "I do," on the duel video screens.
"And you, William Cooper.  Do you accept this woman in holy matrimony, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, til death do you part?"
"I do," he told the world in a remarkably steady voice, surprised how calm he felt.
"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife."
Even Bill, who expected the scream, was overwhelmed.  A beast the size of Mt. Everest must have burst out of Emily because her scream began as a deep rumbling, grew to a loud thunder, then lifted up to the heavens with a roar that would have made a T-rex piss himself.  Then the pitch rose sharply, and several dogs outside began barking.  Her voice flew up octaves like an angel in flight, only to climax with a shattering of every window in the fucking cathedral.
The photographer, bless his soul, aimed upwards just in time to record it all for when the Catholic Church sued Richard.  When he returned to the happy couple, he zoomed to the giant splotch on the bride's wedding dress, not knowing that this would soon become one of YouTube's most viewed non-celebrity videos.  It took him forever to realized that the happy bride just had a body-wrenching orgasm that left her unable to stand or speak.  Not to mention pretty fucking dehydrated.
Bill knew he had to hold her up anyways, but now he covered her with his body to protect her from what felt like tons of falling glass.  The crowd panicked, but Bill cared more for the lady collapsing in his arms than his entire extended family combined.  He carefully laid Emily down on the hard marble floor, unknowingly letting the video photographer document the growing pool gathering at her feet.  He zoomed on the rivers of liquid dripping down her legs.  He would later name the YouTube video, "The World's Greatest Orgasm."
A bunch of babies started crying, but Bill ignored them because most of them were also adults.
After the last of the glass fell, Bill looked down the isles to see a stunned audience staring at the screens in awe.  Everyone in his extended family knew his talent for hypno-orgasms, and word apparently spread to the guests, given how so many women looked at him with lust.  Penelope, for example, not only had glass in her hair, but even glassy eyes.  Then he noticed the wet stain in her blue jeans.  At first he assumed she peed herself in fright, but then their eyes met, and he knew she was going to fuck the shit out of them.  If cuming in the first pew embarrassed Penelope, she sure didn't show it.  Penelope either just took ecstasy, or was incredibly horny.  
Bill looked down at Emily on the floor.  At first he feared for her life, but then a smile grew that barely fit on her face.  The hundreds of mind-blowing hypno-orgasms he gave her over the last month must have conditioned her for this mega-orgasm.  When her glazed eyes finally met his, he knew everything would be okay.  
In the parking lot Bill heard his brother swearing in futile anger.  If it wasn't for Richard, the barking dogs, and the crunching of broken glass, the place would have been completely silent.  Then his father started laughing uncontrollably, a comedy hypnotist enjoying a masterpiece show.
As he stood tall at the alter, a few hundred people staring at him in wonder, a lot of thoughts crossed Bill's mind, but one stood out: this will be the best.  Honeymoon.  Ever.
Then a visibly shaken Father Timothy delivered the coup de grace: "You may now kiss the bride."

THE END

A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR

I hope you liked my story!  Now please post positive reviews online, recommend me on Facebook and Twitter, and buy my other erotic ebooks at any online bookstore so I don’t have to return to stripping.  Scroll down for the summaries and excerpts of my other stories. Below are my wonderful kids.  Thank you for helping me make a living writing erotica!



SUMMARIES AND EXCERPTS FROM OTHER STORIES

THE PREACHER'S SLUT
The town’s ultra-conservative mega-preacher obsesses over sexual immorality, so when his daughter rebels on her 18th birthday, she does so with a bang by seducing the town’s leading self-righteous hypocrites in an orgy of revenge.  Yet sparking a wave of sexual scandals reveals a secret that her parents have been keeping from her since her birth, and will bring everyone to their knees.
EXCERPTS:
"First, I'm gonna swallow your juice, then I'm gonna beg you to take my virginity.  If you haven't made me cum by my birthday party, the deal's off."
She swallowed the last inch and felt his pubes tickle her nose.  Nothing in the world tastes like clean cock.  Its deliciousness reminded her of the first time she tried Kentucky Fried Chicken.
He sank his middle finger into her pussy, and it felt like a toe in a Jacuzzi.
Danny continued thrusting until she stopped finger fucking his asshole.  She collapsed on his lap, spent, her finger still up his chute.  He rolled down the window and a cool breeze gave him everything he needed except a beer and pizza.
She rode the older man's cock while her new boyfriend tried to get a digit up her butt without touching his father's dick.  No sooner did he get it in, than it kept slipping out.  It was liking trying to kiss someone on a trampoline.  
Success in a man is like youth in a woman.  
As he picked up the pace, her eyes turned blank as she rode the train to Orgasm Town.  Hoo-hoo!  She seemed zoned out on Zen and the Art of Taking Multiple Cocks.  When the orgasm hit her, she arched her back and screamed like a psycho.
They say some men prefer thick thighs, and some skinny thighs, but most guys want something in between.  
Her ankles on his shoulders, he fucking nailed her to a cross.  His father made her cum good, so he had to make her cum better.  He opened his eyes to see Faith looking at him like he was a fucking God.  The sheer amazement and gratitude in her eyes overwhelmed him.  His cock coughed, then coughed again, like shotgun blasts, each recoil staggering him. 
She wanted to get caught.  She wanted everyone to know she was a total slut, a cheap whore, a piece of shit.  The prospect of public humiliation revved her engine like a foot on the gas petal.  If Faith was only happy when it rained, then there must be a shit storm coming because she never felt better.  Walking on a tightrope wasn't enough.  She needed to tempt fate until she fell in an orgy of public destruction.
"Doctor, the cum you licked from my pussy belonged to Mr. Stevenson."  While the doctor threw up in the hazardous waste bin, Faith collected her cameras.  She had sex with four men that day.  What a great birthday!
From his pulpit, her father condemned sex outside of marriage and sex not meant for reproduction, prompting critics to joke that sex is only bad if you enjoy it.  
She pushed the older lady on her back and finger fucked her with surprising enthusiasm.  The bitch resisted -- when the fuck would that ecstasy kick in? -- so Faith kissed her full on the mouth to shut her up.  Lucy must have gone ages since her last orgasm because she lit up like a bon fire. 
When it hit, the orgasm took her breath away.  Literally, she could not breathe.  It felt like she sucked her nose up into her face.  She had no idea she twisted her own nipples so hard.  Something erupted in her bowels, like a pregnant woman's water breaking, and she baptized Lucy Fucking Johnson's face with the sweetest liquid God ever created.

THE HYPNO-ORGASM SEDUCTION
Hypnosis can make a woman orgasm repeatedly, and Dr. Bill Cooper is the master of the art.  But Bill has fallen for a woman with a tragic past, and needs all his skills to cure her.  Every day he uses hypno-orgasms to blow her mind and help her frigidity.  But when he finally has formed the lifemate of his dreams, his jerk brother tries to seduce her with money.  But Bill will have the ultimate revenge, while giving his lifemate the world’s greatest orgasm.
EXCERPTS:  "I can't masturbate.  I'm like a quadriplegic with a chronic erection."  
"Hypno-orgasms are several times more intense.  When a man is over-excited, he cums too soon, but when a woman is over-excited, she cums more often.  So I can not only take you to the summit, I can take you there repeatedly.  It's the safest sex you'll ever have."  Completely stressed out, Emily stared at him like a cow about to be tipped over.  Then he smiled that awesome smile of his and she fucking melted like cheese on an omelet.
Something vibrated in his pants and it wasn't his beeper.  She hooked him like a fish; he could practically taste the metal in his lip.  	In an ironic twist, the hypnotherapist was the one in the deep trance, and in need of some therapy.
Men cannot fall in love with women they do not find attractive, and women cannot fall in love with a man they do not respect.  
He covered her tongue with cum as she continue to bob on his pole, determined to take every pez from his dispenser.  Her tongue must have a Taser attached because it sent jolts of electricity up his spine.  Some of his juice spilled on her chin, so she scooped it up, sucking her fingers like a chicken wing.  
A man in a suit is like a woman in lingerie.  
"Men get laid by convincing women that they want more than sex."  
"What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you?"  "As a teenager I once fell face-first into a fresh pile of steaming doodoo.  And let me tell you, it tasted like crap!"  She slapped his arm for pulling her leg, but couldn't help laughing.  "On the one hand, it made me appreciate my mom's terrible meatloaf, which I only thought tasted like caca, but, on the other hand, it remains the best shit I've ever had."
"I want to nibble on your earlobes."  Her hands flew to her ears and she laughed at how silly she must have looked, with her elbows pointing at him like guns over the dinner table.
"I'm getting tits?  Do you have any idea how much that changes a girl's life?  Breast implants for a woman are like a man becoming six inches taller." 
That's what they now called it: the Orgasm Room, because it reeked of sex all day, every day.  
Guys who say all pussy is the same are idiots.  Every pussy -- like every love -- is unique.  Some may feel equally good, but that does not make them the same.  A man can hate a woman and still love the sex, but that does not mean his feelings don't color the experience.  
Even before she heard his message on her voice mail, her legs started trembling.  With his trigger words, she collapsed on the campus lawn as another powerful orgasm shook her body like a baby rattle.  Her body cruelly responded on cue as her pelvis bucked wildly, saturating her blue jeans.  She had no idea how loud she screamed, but apparently the entire campus heard her.  
He made it his purpose in life to perfect the art of cunnilingness.  Unfortunately, while men prefer feedback, women expect mind reading.  But now her pussy was like a home security system: once he knew the code, he could make it scream anytime he wanted.  
Her scream vibrated his cock, still in her mouth, before pounding his ear drums and threatening the windows.  It lasted forever, too.  Bill could belch the alphabet quicker.  It struck like a thunderstorm, charging the room with electricity.  His home was not so much silent, as stunned, by her scream.  
A dozen pairs of hands applauded.  Emily looked around the yacht to see the entire fucking crew cheering her.  Flattered, she stood up to give them a better view of her naked body, never guessing she had an exhibitionist streak.  Or that she would now star in an orgy.
Emily turned around and gasped at the size of the cock.  Good thing she didn't look up because that dude must have had anti-cosmetic surgery cuz nobody can be born that hideous.  Beauty may be in the hands of the beholder, but ugly is universal.  She pushed him into the nearest chair and worked her way down his pole.  God must have awarded this guy a huge cock as compensation for shortchanging him on everything else.
Richard took close-ups of his brother taking two dicks at a time while giving running commentary.  "I always knew little Willy had too much girl in him.  Look how he tackles that bait.  Take it like a man, bro.  Be a good girl and swallow."
The cock in his mouth suddenly enlarged and Bill realized that he was about to get a mouthful of cum.  Terror filled him.  He tried to get up, but the guy banging his ass rested his weight onto Bill's back, pinning him in place.  Two strong hands gripped his head and Bill braced for a homo's delight.  Then the cock exploded and cum blocked his air passage, forcing him to swallow.  His initial reaction?  Not fucking bad.  Thick and salty, like leftover oysters.  
Bill, on his back, sucking cum from his fiancée’s pussy, farted when rough hands spread his legs over broad shoulders.  The bulbous head stretching his sphincter made him swoon.  Once the fucker got his rhythm, the pain turned to pleasure.  Sure, it hurt, but it hurt so good.  Bill looked up past Emily's great breasts to see her sucking off another total fucking stranger.  
Penelope looked Emily over.  "Hell, I'd probably hit that, and I haven't played for that team since high school."  "Really?" Emily asked, suddenly exuding sexuality.  "I'm curious how bi I am."

THE FIRST SPACE ORGY
SUMMARY: This hard science erotic story begins with a blast and ended with a bang.  A company has built a maglev launcher to catapult capsules into orbit, where they have re-orbited the largest Near-Earth-Object -- the asteroid Ganymed -- around Earth and have turned it into a space port.  To promote it, they select ten lucky newlywed couples to star in the first reality show in space.  Since nothing sells better than sex, a mother and daughter one-up each other in micro-gravity, from seducing the hot hostess to taking three men at once to an epic anal orgy. 
EXCERPTS:  
A man can’t think clearly with his balls full.
Monogamy is easier after you’ve tried everything else. 
The best predictor of good sex was the kiss because kissing measures personal chemistry, as opposed to just mutual attraction.  
“Mom, what’s the wildest thing you ever did?”  James answered for her.  “Your dad saw her do all six blacks on the team.”  “Mom, did you just purr?  James, I think the bitch just purred.  Quick!  Scratch her behind the ears.”
“Did you like the taste of jism?” she asked him.  “I wouldn’t pick it off a menu, but it’s better than asparagus, yet worse than broccoli.”  	The girl roared with laughter.  “I will never look at vegetables the same again.”
“You bought her tits?” Jasmine asked.  	“And the ungrateful bitch still wouldn’t swallow me.”  “Buy me tits and I’ll fucking swallow you!”  
“Jimmy has a beautiful cock,” Gina added.  “It doesn’t bend like a banana like your father’s.  Look!  I have pictures.”
“I will swallow you every morning.”  Now James was the one who had to cross his legs.  “Mom, did this bitch just purr?” Jasmine asked, reaching over to scratch James behind the ear.
“You’re gonna be on TV?” Jasmine asked, clearly jealous.  “Oh, I am so going to swallow every pez from your dispenser.”
Their tongues met and she kissed him like a Taser.  Electricity shot down his spine.  Wow!  He hadn’t felt this alive since he lost his virginity.  Kissing Jasmine was like biting into a ripe peach.  He drank her like a cold beer on a hot beach.
“Kissing you is addictive.  If you go just a day without kissing me, I’ll end up in rehab.”
Sucking his cock, Gina had her hand out, so Jasmine slapped it like they were a wrestling team.  “Yeah, mom!  Let’s tag-team this dick.”
Mom gave her pointers:  “Relax your gag reflex in order to swallow the second half.  Slow your breathing and take your time until your throat gets used to it.  You’ll gag if you try to swallow too much, too soon.”
Every time her lips rubbed against the rim of his penis head he cringed in delight.  James sped past the point of no return without a backward glance and exploded into her eager mouth.  It had been a while, so he drove with the full tank.  
“Hey, let me show you your new home.  It’s got more shit than an outhouse.”
3D pornos are weird, with dicks shooting cum at the camera.  James had ducked more than once, just out of instinct.
“Mom, I can’t believe you love to be spanked!”  “Jimmy, show my girl how good it hurts.”  He started finger-fucking her with one hand while slapping her booty with the other.  His hand left palm prints on her ass cheek, but still she urged him on.  
James sported enough wood to reforest the Amazon, so he used his arms to force her legs wide.  He placed her feet over his shoulders while her mother slipped his cock into her daughter. 
Jasmine suddenly looked at him as if he was a mugger who pulled out a knife.  She must have seen a ghost because she arched her back and screamed at him like a horror movie victim.  James was not sure if she had an orgasm or a heart attack.  Then she flooded him.
Jasmine gazed up at him as if he was a fucking God.  Her entire face looked like a smile.  “Thank you,” she whispered, which struck him like a frying pan.  Nobody had ever thanked him for sex before.  
“You’re gonna buy me boobs so I can seduce your father?  You’re like a combo of Jesus and Santa.  You’re fucking Janta Clause.”  “Yes, but once you marry my father and I marry your daughter, we probably shouldn’t have sex anymore.”  
A final drop of cum grew at the tip of his penis.  She showed it to him, then carefully licked it off like cream from a cupcake.
She took off her gorgeous dress to reveal a killer body serving a life sentence for man-slutter.  “I’ll strip and give you a lap dance if you fuck the shit out of me afterwards.”  “What about our kids?  They’re waiting for us at the restaurant.”  “Fuck’em.  I need to get laid.  And I suspect you do, too.”
He petted Jasmine’s pussy mound like a kitty, and sure enough, Jasmine purred.  His fingertip gently pushed her pubes like a hairbrush.  She dug her fingernails into the back of his shirt to punish him for making her feel so good.  
Jasmine heard her mother huffing and puffing like she was about to blow a house down.  Annoyed, she kicked her ankles up on the seat in front of her while James fucked her, startling an older couple who apparently disapproved of sex in public.  
Jasmine gargled the mouthful of cum to judge its flavor.  It seemed rude to spit it out, so she swallowed, vowing to never suck an Arab prince off ever again.  It tasted too tangy, like when Panda Express pours too much sauce on their orange chicken.
Bob opened his eyes in shock to see his naked daughter-in-law riding his pony to another orgasm.  Then he saw his son licking the shit out of his wife to get the taste of cum out of his mouth.  
69-ing in micro-gravity with Earth in the background was wonderful.  He exploded so hard into her mouth that he lost a few neurons.  Jasmine tried to swallow every drop, but several wads got away.  Bob, still fucking Gina, bumped into Jasmine who flew to the biggest constellation of cum, snapping her jaws like a shark.  Gina pushed against Bob as she stretched to gobble one floating in the opposite direction.
The gorgeous guide leaped into the air, then expertly took off her clothes in mid-air.  Now wearing only tiny pink panties as her big tits floated free, she flipped over like a swimmer reaching the end of the pool to intercept a wad of cum before it splattered against the observation window.  Three cameramen recorded the hottie opening her mouth and engulfing the jism with the blue Earth in the background.  This would soon become the year’s favorite screensaver.
Their naked guide grabbed Jasmine in the air.  It was like the two finalist for Miss Nude Universe suddenly making out.  Each knew the other would taste like cum, and that knowledge only seemed to rev up their engines as they matched speed and angle.
Gina floated over and spread her legs.  A liter of Bob’s cum threatened to drip out of her.  “Want some more?” Gina asked Daniela.  “Oh, fuck yeah!”  	Oddly enough, they drifted just out of reach.  James watched them claw at each other, grasping nothing but hot air, the scene looking increasingly bizarre.  Bob bumped his wife into the hottie, then positioned himself above them so Gina could suck him hard again.
The four of them looked like a twisty pretzel in front of an Imax image of the Earth.  They floated horizontally.  Jasmine licked Daniela’s clit.  Daniela sucked Bob’s cum out of Gina’s pussy, while Gina bobbed up and down on her husband’s cock. 
“I think I’ve figured out anal.”  They scrambled out of the strap that held them together and struggled to change their relative positions.  They looked like those suicidals who jump off of buildings, the way their arms and legs flailed in all directions. 
Watching his wife suck his father while floating in the air lit James up like a Christmas tree.  
“Should I stop?” Bob asked Daniela since he only got the tip of his dick in her ass.  	“If you do, I’ll fucking throw you off this rock!  Fuck me hard, bitch.”
“Who’s got the next biggest dick after my husband and son-in-law?” Gina asked. The Russian pulled down his pants, ignoring his new wife slapping him hard.  “Well, get on up here.  My ass won’t fuck itself.”
As Earth grew larger in the giant window, his wife, mother-in-law, and their hostess collectively took nine cocks in micro-gravity in mid-air as millions of viewers back on Earth watched. 

COVETING MY NEIGHBOR’S WIFE
The super-hot wife needs money, and so enters a Faustian bargain with the horny neighbor: $10,000 a month for unlimited sex-on-demand. But he has no idea how long the insatiable sex vixen has been denied pleasure, forcing him to step up his game to give her the deep dicking she so badly needs. But what will the husband do when he finds out? 
Excerpts: I exploded in her mouth like a fire hydrant. And she kept going. She drained me of every drop, a swallower in a world of spitters. She looked up at me, my penis still in her mouth, and moaned. No lie, my cock twitched against her tongue.
"Harder!" she ordered me. I didn't know if she referred to my sucking her nipple or fingering her cunt, so I did both harder and she gushed all over my hand with a scream of relief. I have never made a woman cum that hard before. My wife is so afraid of waking the kids it's like mugging a mime.
When it comes to eating pussy, men hope for guidance while women expect mind reading. I tried different tactics to win over her clit, adjusting according to her grunts, until I discovered the winning combination and spanked that baby until she screamed. 
She wore super-high heels, so we fucked standing. I bent her over the couch, grabbed her hips, and pounded her like a boxer. I stabbed her so hard, long, and fast that I made her whimper. Oh, wait, that was me. It just felt so good. I didn't want to come without her, so I reached around with both hands to tweak a nipple and her clit. That did it. Her virgina muscles gripped my pole like a golfer and I flooded her pussy.
I didn't want to get into a fight in the club, so I said it loud enough to be heard over the music. "I just came inside her, and she's not wearing panties. Maria, show them." All three gathered around and dear Maria must have descended from Amazons because she spread her legs wide so they could see my spunk flowing out of her. She sunk a finger into her pussy to scoop out my "polvo," as she called it. Maria may as well have maced them. With their complete fucking attention, she held up her finger to their noses, forcing them back, smiled at me and sucked my juice off her finger with a groan of inner satisfaction.

SEX ZOMBIES
The new Uganda government wants legislation criminalizing homosexuality, and so invites leading homophobes to help.  Dick, the president of Oral Roberts University, brings his hot young mistress.  But when she tells him she’s pregnant, he dumps her deep in the jungle.  But monkeys infect Dick with a virus that inflames that part of the brain that controls sex drive, and everyone he infects becomes mindless nymphos.  As billions turn into sex zombies, mankind is literally screwed.
EXCERPTS:
"I know a guy with five dicks -- his pants fit him like a glove." 
"Make me suck your giant cock," she demanded.  The thing flopped out like a baseball bat from Santa's bag.  
What made her special was her love for the special sauce.  A girl who loves swallowing retains her value as she ages or gains weight.
Dick threw her on the bed, then threw himself on top of her.  The bottom of the mattress pressed Tony's face into the hard floor.  
Tony cringed at Dick’s loud moaning and groaning.  He sounded like a wilderbeast crossing a river. 
The only thing better than catching a self-righteous religious hypocrite having sex with a teenage girl is catching the hypocrite having sex with a teenage boy. 
“For a guy named Dick, you sure are a big douche bag.”
She must have snorted an aphrodisiac given the way she tore off her clothes and guided that black stud inside her.  Tami placed her ankles over his shoulders, with him still standing and her feet pointing at the deep blue sky.  The giant's bulging black muscles riveted Tony as he thrust in and out of his twin sister's pussy.  
Tony pulled the monster cock from his sister's pussy and aimed it just in time to catch the second wad of thick white cum right between the eyes.  Unable to breathe but not caring, a fourth and fifth load coated his teeth like toothpaste.  
Tony had never felt so horny -- which, for a teenager, is really saying something.  
Oh, God, his ass hurt!  It ached like a dentist numbed it with Novocain, then drilled for teeth.  
He woke up to find an obese African woman riding him like a stallion, waving her hands like in a fucking parade.  Tony felt betrayed by his penis which, by now, should know he doesn't like pussy.  
The guy up her ass came next.  Tony made the mistake of looking too closely and discovered that many other men must have cum up his sister’s chute.  The sight of so much cum flowing out of an anus disgusted him, which it shouldn't, because that was actually his kind of thing.  
The zombie must have came so hard into Tami that he lost some neurons because he tumbled into the next guy in line, who fell into the zombie behind him.  The zombies grunted angrily while untangling themselves like drunk retards, trying to either argue or explain.  
"Mom!"  He barely recognized his zombified mother, with her hair down and clothes off.  Those fucking aerobic exercises really toned her up.  Mom didn't even glance at her kids as she sat on Mr. Green's cock, sucked some guy they didn't recognize, and took a third cock up the ass from Mr. Whitney.  "Okay, I can understand Mr. Whitney.  That fucker's cut like a statue, but David Green?  Really?  You gave it up to that weasel?” 
The kids watched their mother swallow the stranger's jism -- not once, but twice, with a groan of satisfaction that made them feel ill.  
"Jesus, mom gives good head.  Where'd that bitch learn to suck like that.  Certainly not with dad, or else why would he always be in a bad mood?"
Grunting like he had constipation, he grabbed their mother's head and exploded into her eager mouth so hard some jism shot out of her nose.  Unfortunately, his dick slipped out halfway through and splashed cum all over her face.  Some must have seeped into her eye because she started screaming in pain while squinting.  
On the alter, Mom screamed her orgasm to the heavens as a statue of Jesus looked benignly on.  "Can we now drag our naked mom from this church orgy so the police outside can lock her up?  What would Jesus do?"
"The doctors and nurses were the first to get infected, so all the hospitals are wild orgies now.  It's like this church orgy, but with primo drugs."

ABRAHAM LINCOLN: VIRGIN HUNTER
SUMMARY: Before he became America’s greatest president, 22 year old Abraham Lincoln was a hot stud who fell in love with a beautiful virgin named Ann Rutledge.  The years they spent together were the happiest of his life, and he remembered her frequently forty years later as president.
EXCERPTS:  “You can’t be first, but you can be next,” she heard herself telling Mr. Lincoln.  As he suspected, she was a screamer. 
Her hands explored his body with the urgency of an Indian attack.  When the huge cock fell out, it smacked her face with such a thud that she screamed in delight.  “I didn’t know God made them this big.  Was your father an elephant?”  “No.  But sometimes he was a horse’s ass.”
Every time her lips pulled back on the rim of his penis head, his toes curled.  Every time her nose dove into his pubes, he forgot to breathe.  Every time her suction power threatened to peel off his foreskin, he thanked God 
A spasm warped his body.  Something squeezed his head like too small a hat.  He sucked his chest down into his stomach.  His eyes bulged, then he couldn’t see for the tears.  His hair stood up and his arms flapped like spaghetti.  Then he blew a wad of cum in her mouth with enough force to knock a cowboy off his horse.  
His hips bucked like a bronco, followed by so many musket shots that he should have named his penis the Winchester.  She continued to plow his field, eager to unearth every last seed.  And she still didn’t use her hand!  The only other woman who ever licked his stamp barely got the head in her mouth while jerking him fast with both hands -- yes, damn it, he was that big!  
Splashes of white cum spotted her face, so her tongue left the barn to corral them.  He looked at her like a lizard who spent too much time in the sun.  He knew his tongue couldn’t do the aerobatics that hers performed so easily, as she licked up one spot of jism after another on her face.  Finally, she resorted to fingers to brush it off.  When she sucked his juice off her fingers, he fainted as manly as he could.  “I’ve finally found the perfect sauce for my chicken,” she declared.
She studied him, tall, hard, and naked.  They say the bigger the feet, the larger the penis, but if anything, his feet looked small compared to the ax he swung between his legs.  
He slid between her legs and she grabbed his staff like Moses and parted the Pink Sea.  Every inch seemed to animate her.  He couldn’t seem to get the right angle due to his height, so he pinned her legs against her body and thrust the rest of it in.  She howled in joy.  
As she began to wail again, clearly building up to another scream, he distracted himself with math: 2, 4, 8, 16, oh please don’t let me cum before her, 32, 64, 128, oh but it feels so good, 256, 512, lordy I’m getting there fast.
What is this man made of?  He is harder than his ax.  If all men were like this, they could cure the world of bitchiness.  
The orgasm ambushed her.  Like falling in a cold lake, she plunged deep, feeling every tingle and shiver.  Her muscles lost all tension and her limbs flailed like a chicken with its head cut off.  She heard screaming, but didn’t recognize the voice as her own.
She looked at him like a god.  If he could sell this, he would make millions.  Oh, she detested slavery, yet at the same time she wanted to shackle him to her.
Abe had no idea women wanted sex as much as men.  A man has to sow his oats before the season ends.  He never knew that women would permit a man to kiss them “down there,” much less demand it.
The invisible force that washed over her body and muddled her mind took her by surprise.  Her scream pierced the sky and parted the clouds.  The earth shook and the heavens exploded. 
He parted her legs and she resolved to spend the rest of her life like that, her legs in the shape of a “V” and the man of her dreams between them.
Something huge pushed against her virgina and her eyes blew up to twice their normal size.  Then it slipped in and surpassed everything she had just experienced.  In and out, in and out, and soon she felt another orgasm coming.
He reached up to tweak a nipple and that was the straw that made the camel cum.  She exploded, not caring who heard.  “That was just my finger.  And I only gave you one.”  She looked like a cow about to be tipped over.  “Next I’m gonna give you my tongue.”
He tracked her breathing and the expression on her face, but ignored her grunting and groaning like a pig.  That made him smile too much to concentrate on the deep dicking.
She recognized that she now had to fuck Abraham Lincoln every fucking day, or she would go crazy.  It seemed easier to deny herself air than his massive cock.
Abe buried his entire sword to the hilt, before pulling back.  Again he thrust, penetrating her deeper than she ever imagined possible.  Ann looked at him in awe.   It touched her so deep inside that she feared it would pop out of her throat.  Other men could not be like her Abe, or else their women would not be such bitches.
This orgasm ambushed her like a clever Indian.  She once fell from a tree and didn’t land as hard as she did now.  She lost use of her legs, so they shook on their own.  She had brought back her knees so close to her breasts that her feet hung close to her head.  His weight on her was all that kept her on the ground as her spirit flew.
The first blast nearly shot off a tit.  The second struck so hard it splattered her face.  A third dropped in the heavenly valley between her mounds.
Crazed with lust, Ann instinctively grabbed his penis and pulled it to her.  A wad of thick goo fell on her outstretched tongue.  She swallowed it with relish, and would later try it with ketchup.  It tasted so good that she pulled Abe’s large cock into her mouth and sucked on it like a calf.  
Abe gently fucked her mouth, shooting wad after wad of cum down her throat.  Ann could not possibly know how sexy she looked with a string of sperm that formed a line across her mouth, from her chin to her cheek.    

THE BOSS, THE BRIDE, AND THE CUCKOLD
Summary:  Appalled and excited, Sam watches his charismatic boss seduce his beautiful new bride and share her with others.  But then they start pimping her out in marathon orgies to whoever can pay enough and Sam can't help but notice how wet and wild his formerly conservative wife gives herself up to total strangers.  Will Sam grow a pair and reclaim his wife, or continue to lick her used holes clean? 
Excerpts:  I bobbed back and forth on his prick, going as deep as I could, without sacrificing speed.  Unlike women, who smell like fish and taste like chicken, I could not think of anything that resembled the flavor of cock.  
I automatically swallowed, disappointed that it bypassed my tongue so I could taste it, only for the next wad to splatter against the roof of my mouth with such force that it exited out of my fucking nose like some hot snot.  My nose burned like I snorted Tabasco.  
A strong hand slapped my bare ass hard.  The sting excited me.  When I involuntarily moaned in pleasure, both men chuckled, knowing what it meant.  I would be getting spanked a lot in the months to come.
My wife kissed Larry, the best looking of the three brothers.  The fucker took advantage of the opportunity by fondling her breasts and pressing a finger against her crotch.  I felt so stupid, watching my wife kiss two better looking guys.  "Damn!" Gary yelled.  Everyone stopped to look at my total hard-on.  
"I want to suck you all off," I heard my wife say, clearly not talking to me, "then I want you all to fuck me like I've never been fucked before."   Completely naked, she stepped into the Jacuzzi and roughly knocked me aside so she could blow our boss.  
I don't understand why men equate balls with toughness.  You ever get hit in the nuts?  Testicles are delicate -- just grazing one can reduce the toughest man to tears.  You know what's really tough?  Pussies, because pussies can take a lifetime of pounding. 
I thought she was going to kiss me.  Instead, she spit out Larry's jism into my open mouth.  I felt like an idiot since I could have simply shut my mouth, but I knew what my new masters wanted, and took it all like a good bitch.  
My wife stood over me to feed me the juice of the three men who just came in her.  She shook her hips and they didn't lie.  Instead they spit at me.  Several drops of cum splattered across my face.  Then she squatted down and smothered my face with her used pussy.  
She pulled my feet over my head so that my penis stared straight down at me.  Amy jerked me off fast.  She didn't order me to open my mouth, but I did anyways.  And just in time as I spewed over my own face and tongue.  I heard the guys taking video, which they later sent to my father and friends.
Every guy in the room knew when the head pushed past her pussy lips by the moan that echoed against the walls and chilled my spine.  The three brothers streamlined the video onto three huge wall-mounted televisions.  Even on my knees, I could see that big ebony cock thrust into my wife's pink pussy.  
My wife lay naked and asleep, covering in sperm, from her hair to a river flowing out of her pussy.  Her tits had more spunk than skin.  I got between her legs and worked my prick inside her, but the further it entered, the more sperm it pushed out.  When I unloaded inside her, my warm jism mixed with the sperm of a dozen other guys.  
“If you fucked me like that before, I never would have had to cheat on you back home," she sneered.

WORLD’S BIGGEST CUCKOLD
First he looked the other way when his wife sucked off her boss.  Then she started banging her boss in their bed.  Seducing his brother, best friend, and parents.  And most of his friends.  Starting that porn site.  And doing gangbangs at sex clubs.  But now she's out of control, making him lick her holes as fast as guys fill them.  When will he get off his knees and put his foot down? 
Excerpts:  My wife must have been soaking wet because she slid down my pole like a fireman.  I gobbled a tittie and noticed she kept her eyes closed while riding me like a stallion.  Then she called me Eric.  And my name isn't fucking Eric.
When she came, it felt like someone spilled a warm beer on my dick, except her pussy gripped my penis like a bat swinging for the bleachers.  I've heard that most women fake orgasms, and the rest are gay, but this orgasm was real.  Eyes still closed, probably still fantasizing about her boss, she collapsed on top of me like a load of laundry.
I don't know what bothered me most: that she cheated, or that this made me rock fucking hard.  
For the third time in ten minutes, my wife climaxed.  That was a first, and God knows I tried.  And not just a normal orgasm, either, but one of those earth-shattering ones that are seen less often than unicorns.  Despite the liquor, I have never felt more sober.
"When did you fuck my dad?"  "Remember when you tried to visit me the night before our wedding, and I told you it was bad luck?  He stood naked behind the door.  His cum was running down my leg while I talked to you.  During our wedding vows, your father's cum still leaked from my pussy."
I watched his enormous black penis enter and exit my wife's soaking wet pussy.  I must have smoked too much pot because it kind of hypnotized me.  All too soon she came, screaming like an eagle.  Eric lifted her up, then ordered me to lick her juices off his cock.
He came in my wife's mouth, cursing like he was being waterboarded.  Linda milked him like a cow.  That was too much for Eric, who gripped my head like a vise and gagged me with a gallon of sperm.  I didn't mind the taste so much as the volume.  I couldn't fucking breathe, yet I couldn't remove my head from the fucking fire hose.  So I swallowed.  
I'll never forget my first taste of cum.  Or black cock.  Or the look on my wife's face as I swallowed her boss' jism.  I never could have imagined that I would be ending my day with cum in my mouth and ass, and four black studs fucking my wife all night.  I would have guessed anal-probing aliens before that.
When he reached the point of no return, he stood up and commanded me to stick out my tongue.  Then he came all over my face.  My eyes stung so badly I fucking cried, which I later learned looked really pathetic on the video.  To make matters worse, he then stuck his dick back in my mouth for me to drain him down to the last drop, my wife laughing hysterically.
He knelt on either side of her head and she bobbed up and down on his pole like a fucking fanatic.  Like a crack whore desperate for her next high, she sucked him deep and fast until he exploded down her throat.  I heard her gag for a moment while she swallowed in big gulps.  She drank his jism like it was buttery lobster, a smile so big and genuine that I began to hate her fucking guts.
I turned to my wife.  "Show my best friend we are not kidding."  The whore lit up and took off what little shirt she wore.  She didn't wear a bra because those fuckers didn't need any help standing up.  An anchor so they didn't fly off, maybe, but not a bra to hold them up.
"Tommy, I never knew your parents were swingers."  "What?"  I nearly shat myself.  "They can't be swingers.  They're Mormon."  "Not when they take off their magic underwear.  Then they're freaks."
On one bed, my father and younger brother double-teamed my beautiful wife.  Next to her, also on her hands and knees, my mother sucked off guys I went to high school with.  Then it got embarrassing.  On the huge wall-mounted flat screen TV was me sucking off one black stud while another nailed me from behind.  
"I never knew you loved cock.  Don't worry, bro.  If you find you enjoy cock too much, I know a guy who claims he can pray you straight."  "Ask him if he can pray me thin.  Or rich."
I turned and saw Bobby forcing his dick inside my ass.  I screamed at the pain, then heard my brother cum into my wife's mouth as my father pounded her from behind.  Bobby didn't bother working it in slowly, not caring how much it hurt.  And it fucking hurt.  At first.  
My ass hurt like a dentist drilled it for cavities, so I sat on the john and farted as much sperm out as possible, then used up a roll of toilet paper wiping my ass.  I must have swallowed a glacier of spunk, the way cum kept flowing out my anus.  
I not only shot every drop my testicles produced recently, I'm pretty sure they borrowed from the future.  My first wad struck the roof of her mouth with such force that my cum spilled out of her nose.  I know it must have hurt, given how her eyes bugged out, but my best friend's wife kept going, never once using her hands like most chicks.  My third wad gagged her, forcing her to swallow before continuing.  
Linda stopped fucking my friends to watch Cindy go down on me.  My wife sported more conflicting emotions than a horny priest in a brothel.  Then something forced itself up my ass, and it felt like a dirty rat.  Sure enough, I heard Darren laugh once his cock got past the entrance and started drilling me hard.  
Linda chose to schedule a c-section at 37 weeks and asked permission for me to be there for the birth.  "Oh," the doctor replied, "we always encourage the father of the child to attend the birth."  "No, Linda told her, "the father refuses to come, so I was hoping my husband could take his place."  As I feared, the baby had dark skin.

THE REPLACEMENT WIFE
Summary: Terminally ill, Suzanne has just several months to find a replacement wife to take care of her loved ones.  Matchmaking services haven't worked out because her husband finds the fuckable ones un-marriable, and the marriable ones, unfuckable.  Her only option is to somehow convince the hottie next door to seduce her husband, never imagining that she, herself, would be seduced.  With time running out, her husband and her replacement decide to give Suzanne as much sex as possible before she dies.  As happy as she is now slutty, Suzanne is totally fucked.
Excerpts:  She gasped as he penetrated her, her juices now flowing.  "Close your eyes and call me Amanda," his wife demanded.  "Fuck me like you would her."  So he did, giving her the best pounding that she's had in years.  So weak she could barely move, her head nevertheless flopped on her enormous pillow like a fish on the beach.  A climax bubbled up from deep inside her, then washed over her like an unexpected rain shower.
"I just fucked your wife," Amanda told Todd.  "And I'll be fucking her as often as possible until her death."  He had no idea how he felt about that.  If a guy told him that, he would have immediately belted him.  But Amanda?  He didn't know if he should punch or high-five her.  "Voluntarily?" he instead asked.
He turned on the camera, selected video, then crawled underneath so his tongue could lick her pussy mound.  "I thought we'd give my wife something to beat off to."  "While you're at work, your wife and I will be licking each other to orgasm.  After you fuck us both, we will lick your cum out of each other's pussies."  
"Did my husband give you some?"  "Girl, your husband gave me it all.  Now we're gonna give you some."  Through the phone, Amanda heard Suzanne moan.  "Hurry.  I want to suck his juice out of your pussy."
Amanda threw her leg on top of Suzanne's shoulder and pointed out the cum flowing down.  "Is this the medicine that will make you feel better?"  Suzanne answered her by grabbing the leg and licking up the river of cum. She thrust a tongue in and Amanda nearly fell.  Todd grabbed his fiancée so that his wife could suck his cum out of her.  Or, as he would soon call it, morning.  
His penis erupted in Amanda's mouth, who then leaned over to French-kiss his wife.  He grabbed the camera to film them getting it on.  As he suspected, they got too worked up to quit.  Amanda turned around like an ice skater and his wife and fiancée calculated the value of 69.  
To everyone's shock, he lifted Amanda's dress and hooked his index and middle finger up her virgina as far as they would go, then pulled out to show his rival what he found.  "I came inside her before we left."  He held out his fingers and her ex backed up faster than Michael Jackson moon walking.  "I'm thirsty," Amanda pleaded, so Todd slipped his two fingers down her throat like a cock.  She slurped him noisily and moaned like a wanton whore.  
Todd turned to see Amanda's ex staring at them in shock.  "Hey, I'm fucking two assholes at the same time."  All the witnesses had turned him on, but anal sex in front of her ex was too much.  Violating her anus, he shot his wad.  He could hear Amanda climax as well, who triggered the hot black chick 69'ing her.  Their screams echoed across the parking lot, followed by a standing ovation.  Amanda rolled onto her hands and knees to show her friends the cum dripping out of her a-hole and down her ass checks.  

OPENING THE MARRIAGE
Summary: When Amy learns her husband has been very unfaithful, she vows to beat him at his own game by exploring every kink in her system, from gangbangs to bukkake.  But naive Amy never imagined how unleashing her inner slut would change her.  As she takes giant cock from total strangers, Amy loses herself climbing the ladder of freaky sex.  And when her husband catches her in an epic gangbang, she's really fucked. 
Excerpts:  My husband Jack once joked that fucking is what guys do when women are making love to them.  
"There are three kinds of women: those who don't enjoy giving oral sex, and therefore do it as little as possible; those who do it to please or reward their man, who do it when horny; and, three, that rare woman who just loves to suck cock.  The punch line?  If you ever find a girl in Category 3, fucking marry her!"
"Will you fuck me up the ass?" I begged Rodney.  I felt like such a bully, making that poor fucking linebacker tackle my tight end.  "Please punish me," I pleaded.  "I've been a bad girl, and I want to get worse.  I need it to hurt.  The more it hurts, the less guilty I'll feel."  Which turned out to be totally untrue.  "Your punishment will be my pleasure."  When I watched the video later, it looked like a baseball bat stabbing two cantaloupes.  
I felt a nimble tongue replace the giant cock.  With a start I realized that Cindy was licking Rodney's spunk out of my asshole, and I fucking loved it.  "I want a bunch of guys to cum inside you so that I can suck their juice out."  "I sure hope you're talking to Cindy," Rodney joked.  Cindy paused from eating me out to say, "You mind reader."  
My body floated towards her and I found myself cleaning the cum on her face with my tongue to the roar of the crowd.  A hard dick searched for a hole, then entered the wrong one.  I was about to break off with Cindy to correct the dummy, but I immediately loved how he filled my chute.  I was glad Cindy had me wear my super-high heels to make the angles possible -- I was bent over at the waist like someone knocked over the letter "L."  My tiny booty soaked up the penis and begged for more.  
"Harder!" someone yelled angrily, before I realized it was me.  I French-kissed Cindy's cum-filled mouth to distract me for my embarrassing display of horniness.  The guy fucking my ass may be mute, but not deaf, as he pounded me harder and faster.  
Cindy's hands pulled my pussy closer and her tongue must have a Taser attached, the way it electrified me.  I came the moment her tongue entered me and my scream scared the men surrounding us.  My batteries recharged, I dove into her wet pussy and lapped it up like a kitty.  I came up for air just to show the guys all their cum on my face.  
"You can't be first, but you can be next," I told him.  I dropped to my knees and lowered his pants.  What I found scared the hell out of me.  Me!  The monster in my throat felt at least 11 inches.  Oh, lordy, I was going to ride this into the sunset.  My pussy got so wet I thought I sat on a bidet. 
"Will you please stop so I can talk to my wife?"  "Just a minute.  I'm about to cum in her mouth."

CUM SLUTS
Summary: Kitty loves cum, so offers unlimited sex-on-demand to six sugar daddies who can have her as often as they want. She moves in with the hottest, and falls for him after discovering that the cuckold loves watching her take several men at a time, while she gets off watching him watch her. But will their love deepen or dissolve as he must share her with ever more sugar daddies?
Excerpts:  Sheila was relentless and I was relenting.  Carl zoomed in, then I carefully licked a river of cum falling from Sheila’s drenched pussy towards her ass.  I took out one inch at a time, then went back for more.  When it finally came, I latched onto her pussy lips until my legs stopped shaking.  I totally wet the bed, but at least it wasn't my bed.  I looked up to see two hard cocks twitching for attention.  "I'll race you!" 
"I want to tell you something," he said unexpectedly.  Oh, shit!  I raised shields and prepared to fire photon torpedoes.  "Last Monday would have been my tenth wedding anniversary, so I sent my ex-wife a vibrator with a note telling her to go fuck herself."
Kissing her was even better with cum in her mouth.  I dug a finger in her pussy and she soon did the same and we fucked each other to another orgasm.  The poor doctor, beating off frantically, yelled out knowing I would fly like Neo to gobble him.  He didn't have much -- totally my bad -- but it sure tasted good.  Pleasantly surprised, I found firm hands turning my head as Sheila thrust her tongue into my open mouth and basically sucking out my soul -- if my soul was made of cum. 
He savored a long cum-filled French kiss with me, careful to frame us in the camera.  Sheila’s orgasm pushed out more of Mark's cum so, bitch that I am, I shoved Carl's face into Sheila’s pussy which he instinctively tongued.  
Carl filled my twat as Charlie -- that wonderful ass man -- explored the depths of my anus.  Double penetration makes me feel so full, so satisfied, that I made this a regular part of our routine.  Charlie came first, so Carl made me beg for his cum right in front of the four new clients.
I must have dozed off.  I felt something nibble between my legs.  Hoping it wasn't a squirrel, I naturally opened wide to give him or her full access.  From the slurping, it sounded like a cat.  As I felt an orgasm build up, I noticed just how wet I was and realized, with a thrill, that I still had a lot of cum in me.  Some fucker was sucking sperm out of my pussy.  Then a sharp tongue invaded my anus, and I remembered someone came in there, too.  

THE CUM SLUT AND THE CUCKOLD
When Carl proposes marriage to his hot live-in girlfriend, they celebrate with an epic gangbang so he can slurp their cum out of her holes. Together they take 5 men at a time. But when she gets him to take a massive black cock, she heats up so much she takes on all comers. By the time the cops and TV news crews arrive, they’ve streamed their orgy online for millions to enjoy.
Excerpts: I mounted the first prick I saw and yelled for someone to fill up my other holes. "Anyone got a dick big enough to shut me the fuck up?" It turns out, someone did. 
When it hit me, it fucking hit me. Wow. I don't know how long the orgasm lasted, but it felt like it started on a Friday and didn't peter out until Monday. I've had multiple orgasms before, but this was different. I just kept gushing -- Carl later said he thought I was peeing. I've come in squirts before, but never quarts. I must have been hitting him hard because he pinned my hands against the mattress -- I swear I don't remember scratching his back. 
Hornier than usual, which is saying something, I fell to my knees and sucked him hard enough to put a Hoover to shame. I haven't felt this alive since I lost my virginity. I was a fucking vortex, a black hole defying his penis to escape my gravity well. I didn't hear a word he said until he filled my mouth with his juice. 
"Who wants to cum up my ass and which wants to cum down my throat?" Faced with that tough choice, the two middle managers managed to get two more cocks in me in less than a minute. Now I had three and we rocked like it was 1999. The one up my ass was actually too big for comfort, and the one in my mouth too small to properly gag me, but I made it work. 
The massive black dick in front of me swung back and forth like something out of Avatar, ready to jump off the big screen. I tried to wrap my fist around it, and was shocked to find my thumb and middle finger could not touch. "If you cum up my fiancée’s ass, I'll do you three times whenever you want," I proposed to the black guy. I moved underneath Carl in a 69 to give him what would distract him the most. I opened my legs to let him see the river of cum flowing out of my pussy as the giant cock violated his anus.

HOW MY WIFE BECAME A PORN STAR
Johnny married his soulmate on her 18th birthday. But, three brutal years of poverty later, on the verge of becoming homeless, she gets a job that pays well -- in porn. However, watching his hot wife take several studs a day turns him on -- especially them shooting in her mouth. Watching her husband slurp cum out of her holes makes the wife insatiable, and a porn star is born.
Excerpts:  I burst into the room like Seal Team Six and there was my friend Tom, his massive black penis drilling my wife like she has never been drilled before.  I felt my dick twitch and my wife knew what that meant.  “To think I gave you seven years of my life, when I could have been having this."
Jim had Raven sit down, with a cock up her ass, her legs spread wide, and her pussy fully displayed.  Then he had one of the black guys ejaculate on her tongue, tits, and pussy.  To my wife's shock, I joined the action, French-kissing her cum-filled mouth, licking the spunk off her tits, then eating out her used pussy as she moved up and down the large cock in her ass.  Then Jim put me on my back, with Raven on top in a 69, so I could suck his spunk out of her cunt while she swallowed my dick.  The last guy still reamed her asshole.  When he finished, I licked her ass clean.
Jim ordered the penis in Angel’s mouth to cum first.  Raven then kissed her and showed the camera the transfer of cum.  The man pounding her ass came next, and my wife attacked her dripping a-hole with gusto.  Then Tom, his proud beast already having induced two orgasms, pulled out to cum on her great breasts and shaved pussy.  Raven licked her titties clean and turned to 69 her new friend to another orgasm. 
"Watching you suck cock gets me so wet," my wife assured me.  What the hell?  I got on my knees, lowered his pants, and started polishing his knob.  She waved the other cameraman to get a close-up right before Jim spewed in my mouth.  He had a lot, too, for an older guy, so much so that I gagged for a minute, which made my wife laugh.
Off camera, on the floor, Margaret fingered and ate Angel while watching that big black dick plumb my depths.  After way too long, Jim had me lay on my back, put a pillow under my ass to give Tom leverage, and I took it missionary.  God he was huge!  It felt so much better than hard plastic.  After several long minutes, Jim gave Tom the okay to cum in my mouth.  He climbed over me, jerked off for a few minutes, then shot his load into my open mouth while my wife stared hypnotized.  

NEVER SEND A VIRGIN TO DO A HOOKER’S JOB
When rich housewives sleep with her very successful husband to destroy her marriage, Abby seeks an eye-for-an-eye by hiring her childhood sweetheart to seduce the manipulative bitches.  The well-hung stud enthusiastically charms the panties off the gossips who ruined Abby's life out of sheer boredom.  But he wants more from Abby than free living and unlimited sex-on-demand -- he has had a crush on her since puberty.  This player isn't playing when he uses all the sex and seduction for his real goal -- making Abby his forever.  As the unfaithful bitches get the public humiliation they deserve, Abby finds true love and a huge penis staring her in the face.
Excerpts: She leaned forward so her hips could quickly slide up and down.  At first, it took her breath away, but soon she found herself breathing heavily like a dog venting heat.  He held one artificially enlarged breast in one gigantic hand and a tiny buttock in the other until she started squealing.  Then he grabbed her waist with both hands and forced her up and down until she arched her back and tried to kiss the ceiling.  
Samantha got on her hands and knees and sucked a tittie raw.  That felt so good that she rubbed her tongue along Abby's pussy mound.  Her victim didn't even moan, so Samantha licked her pussy lips, sucking them in turn, until she got a groan.  More followed when she tongue her as deep as possible.  She nibbled the clit and Abby banked left and right on the bed like an F-16 in a dogfight.
His lower body buckled as he shot his first rope of cum down her throat.  She kept pumping him, however, so the next one coated her tongue, then a third that made her gag.  She paused only long enough to swallow, then sucked his dick dry, determined to get every drop.  He doubted he could pry her off with a crowbar.  Certainly not without getting scratched.  He shot several more loads into her, forcing her to swallow twice more.  Abby kept playing with his cock until it grew too soft.  Even then, she looked at it like a kid in a candy store.  "You nearly blew my head off!"  Instead of an angry accusation, she seemed delighted.  
She swiveled around to stick both feet out, legs spread as wide as the car window allowed, then arched her back to raise her ass as high as possible.  The kid didn't ask for a written invitation.  Instead, he rushed closer and jackknifed at the waist like a karate student saluting his master.  His nose punctured her pussy, but he quickly adjusted to lap her juices up like a kitten desperate for milk.  Abby shrieked in delight and Billy, in the passengers seat, found himself hard again.  Abby, feeling like a total slut, expertly fingered her clit and gushed onto the eager tongue, using her other hand to press the teen's face into her pussy.  
He threw her ankles on his shoulders and savaged her pussy for as long as he could.  Which, apparently, was long enough because she yelped in total surprise as another orgasm overcame her.  "Impregnate me, you sexy bastard.  Give me a kid that looks like you and thinks like me."  That did it.  She may as well have pressed a detonator button, for he exploded on command, filling her with his sperm.  "Let me suck our juices off you," she pleaded.
Like Samantha, he held her arms down because controlling women enjoy feeling helpless in bed -- with the right guy and under the right circumstances.  He knew she needed it bad, so he gave it to her good.  When she came, he turned her over and fucked her from behind.  When the next orgasm exhausted her, he roughly pushed her into the pile of pillows.  "Let me know when you're ready for more," he said dismissively.
Dolores sucked off one guy while another drilled her from behind.  "Beg him to cum down your throat," he ordered her.  And she fucking did.  Not too coherently, but she got the point across.  He gave the guy a nod, and he closed his eyes, grabbed her head, and fucked her mouth until he exploded.  The guys laughed and high-fived, despite never meeting before.

THE SEX MASTER
After a bitter divorce destroys his self-esteem, Donny marries the young hottie next door, not knowing her parents are swingers.  He becomes their sissy sex slave, always naked at home, doing whatever they want, whenever they want it.  Everyone enjoys his humiliation so much that they invite old friends, hot neighbors, and black studs so Donny can watch his wife enjoy epic gangbangs.  But they go too far when they have his hated former brother-in-laws double-team him, before doing his wife.  Just how much can this sissy take?
Excerpts: Her skimpy bikini revealed more than it concealed.  Her hard nipples poked through the thin fabric -- she would later confess that she cruelly tweaked them just for me.  I couldn't believe the size of her new titties.  NASA would love to acquire their gravity-defying properties.  
"There are three types of women: 1) those who never suck a guy off; 2) those who only do it when really horny; and 3) those rare gems who fucking love the taste of cum.  The punch line: if you ever find a woman in Category 3, fucking marry her!"
A tongue invaded my anus and I felt like a total virgin.  I may as well sign the sales slip, because she fucking owned me.  Shame on me, I scooted my ass higher and spread my legs wider.  I heard her chuckle, and knew I was in the shit.
"Force that juice out of him.  Seeing my son-in-law suck off my husband is making me so fucking horny.  I can't wait to do you both."
My new mother-in-law knocked me on my back and hopped on top in a 69.  She hungrily engulfed me like an addict out of rehab and I thrust my tongue up her pussy.  I spread my legs like the bitch I was and she pointed her fingers and thrust them up my ass, hard and fast.  If you throw a meaty bone in front of a dog, you can't blame the mutt for eating it.  
I lubed up and worked my way into her fine ass, with Linda providing feedback like an air traffic controller.  "You're coming in too hot -- pull up!  Don't slow down -- you're stall!  Your landing gear didn't deploy -- prepare for a crash landing!"  "You might as well cum in my wife's ass."  Yes, Dave, I might as well.
I exploded so hard that some cum shot out of her nostrils, which left my mother-in-law screaming like she snorted bad blow.  She ran around swearing loudly while her husband laughed so hard I worried he would pee himself.  I knew doctors didn't make house calls anymore, but -- for Pete's sake -- he was already home.
The dog collar around my neck somehow made my dick hard.  Jasmine sucked me off before the wedding, then let me fuck the hell out of her afterwards, yet my penis throbbed so hard that it hurt.  I looked at myself in the mirror, completely naked and on my hands and knees.  The cold marble tile was freezing, yet I was on fire.  Our wedding was great, but our honeymoon would be spectacular.
"I can't wait until he cums down my throat.  When he cums in my pussy, I'm gonna make you suck his sperm out of me.  Now suck him off quickly so he can fuck me."
"I needed a husband who would let me take men home to fuck in the comfort of my own bed.  That's why I married you."

THE NYMPHO WIFE
Coming off a bitter divorce, my new trophy wife gave me as much sex as I could handle.  And then some.  Despite our big age difference, I tried to keep up with her sex drive.  Unsuccessfully.  Rather than divorce, I let her take other lovers.  Since our jobs required a lot of travel, she arranged epic gangbangs around the world, which delayed the inevitable.  Then we got busted by cops.  Now we needed safe regulars.  For better and for worse, I happened to have four sons eager to give their step-mom what she badly needed.
Excerpts: She grabbed my finger and pushed it under her dress, past her panties, and into her pussy.  Funny, we both gasped at the moment of penetration.  I had -- incorrectly -- assumed she would keep it quiet.  Instead, everyone in the bar looked over expecting to see two pigs going at it.
Several patrons watched us in my car.  I couldn't tell her to stop, yet I couldn't tell her to hurry up because she was bobbing up and down on my cock as fast as humanly possible.  I never remembered my ex suck me like that.  If it happened, it was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. 
"You won't take Viagra, but you'll lick cum off your wife?  Lay down, bitch, and I'll give you what you want."  She sat on my face and smothered me with her used pussy.  I heard her grunt as she did Kegle exercises to force their jism out.  Some of their spunk had leaked between her thighs, so I licked up the fresher juice and sucked off the shit that dried up.  Ah, jeez, I felt like a coke addict after his first high.
She forced my legs over my head until I saw my cock staring down at me.  She commanded me to jack myself off.  When I came into my own mouth, the taste electrified me.  I swallowed some, then stuck out my tongue in time to catch my next rope of thick cum.  If I could suck myself, I would never leave my bed.
"I want to suck you next," my wife told the tallest guy, who pulled Enrique off so eagerly that he nearly crashed his head into the bathroom wall.  The youngest of the four had a raging boner, so I gestured for him to fuck my wife from behind.  Lisa fucking moaned when I forced her panties down her legs.  
I got on my knees to watch him spew into my wife.  When he pulled out, he turned towards me and I found myself looking at a semi-hard cock covered in juices.  I engulfed the dirty prick that just erupted into my beautiful wife, the salty taste waking me up more than the shitty coffee.  
My naked wife dared the police officer to stop her.  She swallowed the head, then swallowed her frustration as she tried to get the thick snake down her throat.  The cop was super thick rather than super long, and my wife couldn't be happier.  I knew she wouldn't stop until he unloaded into her mouth.
"I'm gonna ask my four sons to fuck my wife.  Often.  But just how the hell am I going to do that?"  My wife smiled at me and assured me she would take care of it.  The knowing look in her eyes told me that she knew exactly how to do it.
"I love you, Lisa," the motherfucker said the moment before he penetrated his step-mother.  The tone of his voice bled sincerity.  The bastard.  I studied my other sons and none even looked surprised.  "I love you, too, Rob," Lisa said back, and I nearly cried.  I wanted to scream, "I'm still fucking here!" 
I shot myself in the face.  I remember a porn scene where star Peter North pulls out of a pussy in missionary to shoot onto her stomach, but shoots so far that he smacks the bitch right between the eyes!  Well, fuck, that's what happened to me, except I was sitting in a limo and I shot myself in the eye.  And it fucking burned, too.  So I banged on the glass that separated us from the rest of the limo and my firstborn just gave me a thumbs up, then went back to banging his hot step-mom.  

THE NYMHO AND THE CUCKOLD
The trophy wife's old workaholic husband cannot keep up with her hyperactive sex drive, leaving her forever horny, so his four horny sons get the hottie drunk and seduce her in a wild marathon orgy.  But, having unleashed her inner slut, the four brothers now have to step up their game to keep her satisfied -- all without daddy finding out.  Then one of them (no one knows who) gets her pregnant, and now they're all screwed. 
Excerpts:  Several hands caressed her body, sending her soaring.  Fingers tweaked her nipples, played with her clit, while one lucky finger fucked her hard and fast.  She not only felt like a total whore, but embraced the feeling.  
Strong hands on her hips lowered them and she locked onto Robert's cock in anticipation of the dick about to penetrate her.  Now on her knees, her pussy lips quivered as someone -- she honestly didn't care who -- pressed his prick against her and entered.  
The thick rope of jism pleasantly gagged her.  Her pussy muscles squeezed the other prick, making him shoot several loads of cum in her as he shouted over the Beyonce blasting.  Oh why couldn't she enjoy this every day?  "To the bedroom," she called out.  "And give me a fucking virgin."
She laughed when he slapped her ass -- she liked it rough.  "You've been a bad girl, fucking your step-sons, so I have to punish you."  Then he began to wail on her sweet booty like an Inquisitor while Teddy forced a cock in her mouth to shut her up.  Just as he was about to stop, he noticed Lisa sucking Teddy with more enthusiasm than a fag. 
He pressed his bulbous head against her rosebud.  As he pushed her anal muscles aside, she stopped sucking Teddy to cry out in pain.   Robert kept the head, the largest part, at the entrance, rather than push it in, until she wailed like a choirboy.  When he pushed the head past the entrance, her ass quivered and her relief permeated the room like a fart.  
Then Teddy came, shutting up her cries by filling her mouth with his jism.  He had a lot, judging by how much dribbled out onto her cheek and chin.  Spent, Robert pulled out to admire the streams of cum flowing out of her anus and down her ass.  Lisa never looked more beautiful.  I am so in love, he realized.
"Harder, you sissy bitches!  Your father is more man than all four of you combined."  Billy was shouting insults by now and tweaking her nipples hard.  Then her body trembled again, like an epileptic, and her pussy flooded like a desert canyon after a heavy rain.  No one understood what the fuck she was uttering, but it sounded vaguely Chinese, the way she stretched the vowels to unnatural lengths.  
"Let's all cum on her face!"  Edward came first after Billy, splattering jism all over her cheeks and hair.  Teddy unloaded three shots into her open mouth, then shook it to get drops all over her and, to his everlasting regret, onto his brothers.  "Get some cum control, motherfucker!" Robert shouted, reaching for a cum cloth to wipe his brother's jism off. 
"Drive faster, bro," Edward told Robert.  "The girls have started without us!"  "I want to kiss all your holes," Lisa whispered loudly enough for the guys to hear.  When Vilma's finger wandered south of the border, she broke off the kiss to say, "you don't have panties!"  Lisa laughed.  "Oh, I brought several.  They're all in my purse."
"Dude, our step-mom is 69-ing your girlfriend in the backseat!" "I'm trying to drive," Robert yelled back.  "Bro, don't you dare stick a finger up my girlfriend's ass!"  Edward wormed his middle finger up Vilma's anus, anyways, who raised her ass closer to Edward, who now stuck his thumb into her pussy, like he was holding a sixpack.

THE PERFECT HUSBAND
Other husbands may be rich, handsome, and hung, but hers has a head injury that makes him complaint.  He likes her in charge, telling him what to do, and will do anything to keep her happy.  So when his ex-lover butts in, she knows exactly how to spank the bitch. 
EXCERPTS: Because my dick is ridiculously long, my wife has always fantasized about catching me masturbating.
She loves it when I whip her bare ass with my penis -- although not in public, for some reason.  Again, sorry Walmart.  
She looked at me like I was one of them new cars.  Even with my spunk splashed on her face, she was unbelievably beautiful.
“Grandma once knocked a trucker out cold with her first punch.  Oh, heads up: don’t ever call her a crazy bitch.”
“Don’t pop my cork unless you’re gonna finish the bottle.”
Laying on the bed, my prick nearly slapped my face.  “You better get it now before I blast a hole in the ceiling,” I warned her.
I like loud women.  Once her pussy swallowed it all, she looked at me like a god.  “I have never felt so complete.”
I picked her up and fucked like I was dancing.  The way her tits bounced up and down mesmerized me.  She tried not to cum again -- I saw the fear in her eyes.  When she went over the edge, her pussy gripped my cock like a farmer milking a cow.  Locked and loaded, I shuddered as I emptied my mag into her.
Her legs wouldn’t support her, so she flopped on the bed and tried to catch her breath.  The expression on her face scared me, like she just saw a ghost.  Her limbs didn’t seem to work and I worried the orgasm broke her.
“No man outside of porn can touch me where your guy touches me.  He’s stretched me so much I can barely feel a normal size penis.  Doctors should use him for pregnant women so babies just fall out.”
The girls ordered us to undress.  For a moment they looked like they were gonna grab out clothes and run out laughing.  But instead the girls kissed.  “Where’s my camera phone?” I wailed.
Peaches mounted me while her boyfriend took pictures, then he wiggled his cock up her butt while my girlfriend took video.  As we double-teamed her, my girl sat on my face.  
I knew when he penetrated her by the high-pitched scream in my face that Five Hour Energy should put in a pill.  My girlfriend cursed as my buddy worked his way up her anus.  I swear the double penetration dilated her eyes.  When he came, I’m pretty sure I heard it.  He looked like he was having an epileptic attack in slow motion.  My girl just purred, with my cock still in her pussy, as my best friend flooded her anal cavity with jism.
My girlfriend turned to me.  “Fuck her until you cum so I can suck your juice out of her.”  I had cum twice that night, so it took a lot of pounding before I gave her my last two drops.  By that time she was either begging for mercy or whimpering in Yiddish.
My girl slurped my cum out of her pussy while Peaches stuck her tongue up my girlfriend’s ass to taste her boyfriend’s juice as he recorded everything.  I stood up, my cock swinging between my knees like a grandfather clock. 
She jumped back as my penis sprang at her like a rattlesnake.  “Get on your knees, mom, and suck my husband’s giant cock.”  My wife likes me to slap her face with it, but it surprised my mother-in-law so much that she fell back with a yell.  
My dick starting poking her like a mugger looking for a wallet.  She grabbed my schlong and I heard a moan so deep that I thought we needed an exorcist.  
I flipped her over and pounded her missionary until her body shook like a baby rattle.  By then she had an odd smile, like those mannequins who look like they want to talk. 
I planted a knee on either side of my mother-in-law’s head and spanked my monkey like Tarzan.  The poor lady looked scared.   My first shot must have filled some cavities from the surprised look on her face.  She swallowed in order to clear her air passage, then bobbed on my pole to drain me of every drop.
My girl said she was the happiest wife in the world, but I don’t know: Mrs. Stevenson, the meth dealer, always seemed pretty happy when I bought my weekly bag.