"Jesus," she whispered, glancing quickly at Jac, who shifted restlessly beside her. "They're not fooling around in this thing."

Jac's eyes flicked from the screen toward the room. "Neither are they."

Chris followed Jac's gaze. The blonde had her girlfriend's c.o.c.k out and was jacking it in long, slow strokes. It stood up through the fly of the leather pants, the pale head appearing and disappearing inside the blonde's fist. The girlfriend had both arms spread out along the top of the sofa, her fingers digging into the material while she stared straight ahead at the screen as if nothing was happening. The blonde was staring at Chris, her lips slightly parted, her eyes bright even in the dim room.

"f.u.c.k," Chris whispered. She wanted to look away, but she felt hypnotized. Her c.l.i.t jumped every time the blonde pumped the c.o.c.k through her fingers. "You see that?"

"Oh yeah," Jac said hoa.r.s.ely.

On the screen, someone screamed they were coming, and Chris looked up in time to see a woman writhing in o.r.g.a.s.m, her c.u.n.t grinding into another girl's face. Next to her, Jac grunted and slid her hand between her legs. The camera cut to a shot of a woman spread-eagled on a table, two or three women fondling her b.r.e.a.s.t.s while another stood between her thighs and methodically humped a thick black c.o.c.k deep into her p.u.s.s.y.

The girl on the table whimpered and pleaded to come, and Chris wanted to do the same thing. If she'd been alone watching die movie, she'd already be jerking off. She moaned, not meaning to, but unable to stop. She heard a deep groan, and it wasn't coming from the screen.

Chris looked over just as the blonde slipped a hand inside her top and lifted out her breast. She pushed it against her girlfriend's face, and the girlfriend obediently sucked the nipple deep into her mouth. Chris could see the blonde's breast stretch out with the force of the suction as she arched her back in obvious pleasure. Through half-closed lids, she smiled at Chris and pulled her skimpy skirt up to reveal her naked c.u.n.t.

"Jac," Chris whispered, afraid to move. "Jac. Watch."

"I see," Jac grunted, her hand circling steadily in her crotch.

Her expression fiercely intent, the blonde shifted up, over her girlfriend's lap, and down-impaling her p.u.s.s.y on the c.o.c.k. The girlfriend stiffened and arched off the seat, gripping the blonde's hips now instead of the sofa. Chris gasped and couldn't find enough air to even moan. She felt Jac's thigh quivering crazily against hers.

"I gotta go to the John," Chris finally blurted, struggling to get her legs under her and stand up.

Jac clamped her free hand onto Chris's thigh. "Why?"

Across from them, the blonde rode her girlfriend's c.o.c.k in a frenzy-hard, swift thrusts of her hips-her breast still tethered in her girlfriend's teeth. She braced one hand on her girlfriend's shoulder and slapped the other one into her own c.u.n.t. Her lips parted in a tremulous, triumphant smile as she watched Chris.

Up on the screen, the girl on the table bucked and whined and gushed all over the stud who f.u.c.ked her. Chris's p.u.s.s.y convulsed in time to her cries.

"I just... I just got to go. I'll be back."

"You're gonna go jerk off," Jac said, her voice rough. "Aren't you?"

"Oh man, I gotta. I need to come so bad." Chris sounded desperate even to herself. The blonde's girlfriend released her breast with a m.u.f.fled shout, her body convulsing. The blonde's hand whipped between her legs.

"s.h.i.t, look at that," Chris groaned. "The girlfriend just blew her load."

The blonde continued her ride and mouthed, Come with me, to Chris. Chris squeezed her c.u.n.t through the soggy denim covering her crotch.

"I'm so f.u.c.king hot," Chris whimpered.

"Do it," Jac gasped. "You know you want to. It'll feel so good."

Chris popped the b.u.t.ton on her fly. The blonde dropped her head down, her face contorted with pleasure. Jac moaned. Chris fingered her zipper, then yanked it down.

"I'm coming," Jac whispered. "Oh, f.u.c.k, Chris. I'm coming."

Chris shoved her hand into her pants as Jac twisted against her, hips jerking. Without thinking, Chris slid an arm around Jac's shoulders and held her as she finished getting off. Chris found her c.l.i.t, hard and slick, and stripped it once from base to tip, feeling it fatten in her grip.

"Uh, uh," Chris moaned as she pumped her c.u.n.t.

Jac pressed her hand to Chris's stomach and circled her palm over the board-stiff muscles. "That's it, buddy. That's it, let it go."

The blonde's mouth formed a perfect O, her expression dazed, her eyes blank as her girlfriend clamped her teeth around her nipple again. Chris worked her c.l.i.t faster. Jac rubbed the back of her neck and continued to ma.s.sage the muscles in her belly.

"Yeah," Jac murmured. "You're almost there, aren't you? You're gonna come so sweet, Chris. So sweet."

The blonde let out a high, thin cry, and it was like a firecracker exploded inside Chris's c.u.n.t. Her come spilled out and she shouted in surprise and pleasure. She kept pumping until the last spasm released her, and then slumped back with a long, low groan.

"Sweet," Jac whispered, laughing softly. "Was that sweet, or what?"

Dazed, Chris turned her head and grinned at Jac. "Very sweet."

"Looks like she thought so too." Jac tilted her chin toward the row below them.

The blonde, curled up in her girlfriend's arms, slowly stroked the wet c.o.c.k that now rested against her naked thigh. She had a dreamy, contented expression on her face. The leather of her girlfriend's pants was soaked with come. The girlfriend, still watching the action on the screen, absently fondled the blonde's breast.

"There's no way I'd let anyone watch Emily come like that," Chris said softly.

"No kidding," Jac said forcefully. "Me neither. When Trish comes, it's just for me."

"What about... you know, us getting off together?"

Jac gave Chris's belly a friendly pat, then moved back over to her side of the sofa. "What about it? You know we were both gonna jerk off the minute we could." She shrugged and grinned. "So we did it together. We're friends, right?"

"Right." Chris zipped her fly and got herself together. Her c.l.i.t wasn't getting any softer, and she could still feel Jac trembling in her arms. She knew she'd be jerking off again before Emily got back to the cabin.

"So let's relax and watch the rest of this movie," Jac said.

"Yeah, good idea." Chris saw the blonde slip down to kneel on the floor between her girlfriend's spread thighs. She watched her unb.u.t.ton the leather pants and work the c.o.c.k free from the harness. As the blonde lowered her face to her girlfriend's c.u.n.t, Chris smiled. "Looks like we got the best seats in the house."

Quick-Change Artist Radclyffe "How does it look out there?" Cecilia "CC" Rhodes asked as she unhooked her bra, dropped it onto the makeup table, and then brushed her hands lightly over her firm B-cup b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Full house," I said, rescuing the bra and placing it with CC's street clothes on a shelf above the clothes rack. I loved being a gopher on the cruise ship. Actually, I was more like a "go to" than a "go for," because anytime somebody called in sick or someone needed an extra hand or any little thing needed doing, I got called. I used to think getting paid to sail around the Mediterranean with hundreds of gorgeous women was as good as it got. Tonight, after five minutes in CC's dressing room, I changed my mind. Being the official dresser for a fashion model was the ultimate dream job.

"Good," CC said, sliding her skimpy baby blue bikinis off and holding them out to me on the end of one finger. "I always perform better to an audience."

I held out my hand and she dropped her panties into my palm. I tried to look cool and hoped my face didn't show the way my c.l.i.t tingled as I caught the barest whiff of sweetness and spice. She turned to the huge mirror behind the dressing table and c.o.c.ked her hip, apparently appraising her naked body. She looked the way I imagined a model was supposed to look: 5 feet 10, an all-over tan with no hint of bathing suit lines, long, sleek legs, and high b.r.e.a.s.t.s above prominently arched ribs. Wild, red-gold curls fell to her shoulders, and a thin matching strip of the same red-gold ran down the center of her mons and ended at the top of her cleft. She was otherwise shaved clean-everywhere, as far as I could see, and I couldn't help but look. She was so f.u.c.king hot. I glanced up to see her eyes in the mirror watching me, her mouth curved into a knowing smile. I blushed, but grinned. She was a model, right? She must like people to look at her.

"Do you have the order of the changes?" She turned to face me, leaning her shapely a.s.s against the edge of the long, narrow makeup table. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were the round, firm kind with small, dark pink, perfectly centered areola. At the moment, her nipples were hard and tight.

I got that tingle again and forced myself to hold perfectly still, even though I felt the tiny muscles in my thighs quivering like the wings of a hummingbird. I licked my lips because my throat suddenly went so dry I was afraid my voice would crack. "I've got it."

I nodded my head toward the list on the wall that held the six changes she'd go through during the fashion show. There were two other models in adjacent cubicles, each with their own a.s.sistants to help with changes, and the three would alternate out on the runway. They were all gorgeous, each in her own way, but CC was the name-model among the group.

"Have you ever done this before?" she asked, pushing away from the table.

The room was small, maybe 10 x 10, and with the clothes rack and the vanity and one chair, there wasn't much room to maneuver. If she stepped one inch closer, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were going to brush the front of my T-shirt, and I wasn't wearing a bra either. And my nipples beneath my white T-shirt were as hard as hers and had been since the second she'd brushed her fingers over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I wore khaki shorts with no belt and I could tell my silk bikinis were wet.

"Not exactly," I said, refusing to back up. I kept my hands at my sides, but it took every ounce of willpower I had. I wanted to grab her hips, her beautiful, tan, curvaceous hips, and pull her against my crotch. I wanted to bend my head and put my mouth around her nipple and bite it until she screamed. "But I've undressed quite a few women before."

She smiled. "Have you?"

Up close, she smelled hot and tangy. Body lotion and perfume and s.e.x. I hissed in a breath as her b.r.e.a.s.t.s touched mine for a heartbeat and then she stepped away.

"What about dressing them?" She opened a drawer in the vanity and removed a flesh-toned G-string. When she bent her knee and lifted her leg to slip the thin string over her ankle and draw it up her shapely calf, I could see the pale pink lips of her p.u.s.s.y and the shine of excitement clinging to them. Then she lowered her leg and the vision was gone.

"I catch on quickly."

"I'll bet you do." CC slowly bent her opposite knee, her toes pointing downward as if she were a ballerina. She slipped the other side of the G-string over the arch of her foot, her fingertips caressing her skin as she slowly inched the string upward. My c.l.i.t jumped, and although I know I didn't move, she laughed. "Are you ready?"

I sucked in a shaky breath. "You're really beautiful."

For a second, she looked surprised and almost shy. "Thank you."

I turned and lifted the first number she'd be wearing that evening and the only dress among the designer resort wear-a turquoise Sue Wong with halter top, beaded body and cut-away skirt that would open all the way up to that pale swatch of satin covering her p.u.s.s.y. I held the thin straps between my outstretched fingers as the dress swayed between us. "Ready."

She slipped the shimmering material over her head as I knelt with the high-heeled sandals I'd plucked from a row of them, each pair corresponding to an outfit. I couldn't help but flash on the image of Cinderella as CC slipped her foot into the sandal I cradled between my palms. Just as her foot slid home she leaned forward, her hand braced against the back of my shoulder, and eased her foot forward until her arch was crushed against my crotch. My cheek brushed her thigh just where the dress split, baring skin, and I let the corner of my mouth skim her flesh, so softly I doubted she could feel it.

"Sorry," she murmured, "I lost my balance for a second."

If you keep rubbing your foot right there, I thought, subtly pushing my hips forward until my c.l.i.t squeezed against her ankle through my shorts, I'm going to lose more than that.

"No problem," I gasped. "I enjoy being a footstool."

She laughed, ran her toes along the seam of my shorts, and then pushed me away. I d.a.m.n near fell on my a.s.s, but it was hard to be angry with a beautiful woman for teasing your c.l.i.t.

"Go check the runway. Make sure the girls aren't too close." She smoothed both hands up the inside of her thighs, over her belly, and cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The slightly dreamy expression on her face told me she liked the way her hands felt on her body. "Sometimes they like to touch."

"Don't blame them," I said hoa.r.s.ely. "Do you mind?"

CC smiled. "Watching women watch me always makes me hot."

"You must be hot all the time."

"Mmm, you're right."

I heard a faint swell of music. "That's our cue. Let me check the stage."

The place was standing room only, and the atmosphere was more like a nightclub than a fashion show. The huge room was almost dark. Colorful strobes slashed through the air in intersecting patterns, and three spotlights roamed over the runway in wide, swooping circles. The faces I could see all appeared eager, and I smelled s.e.x in the air. I ducked back into CC's dressing room.

"It looks like they're expecting you to take your clothes off."

"The trick is to make them think I might." She skimmed her fingers lightly along my fly as she eased by me and out of the room. Her voice floated back to me. "Make sure the red two-piece is ready next."

I stood with my mouth hanging open and my c.l.i.t jangling for a full minute, then I double-checked that the Shay Todd bathing suit was in easy reaching distance and hurried after her. I wanted to see her in action. I hung back in the shadows just inside the curtain that opened onto the runway and watched her saunter down the ramp, limbs loose and hips swiveling seductively. She took her time making it to the far end of the runway where it turned into a T. I could tell she was making eye contact with women in the crowd along the way from the smiles on their faces. Maybe some of them came to see the newest styles, but from the way they watched her walk, I was pretty sure most of them came to ogle the models. When she turned and started back, it seemed as if her eyes searched the dark beyond the open curtains where I stood, and I swear she saw me. Smiling fleetingly, she drew her fingers up the center of her body and touched her lips, as if tasting some secret only the two of us shared.

I watched her draw closer, my feet nailed to the floor, my stomach growing tighter and tighter with antic.i.p.ation. Then, to a round of hearty applause, she slipped between the folds of the curtain and joined me in the gloom backstage. The second model, obviously intent on her moment in the spotlight, pa.s.sed us without a glance.

"You're supposed to be in the dressing room," CC whispered.

"I wanted to watch."

CC stroked her fingers along the edge of my jaw, down my throat and between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes. You're amazing."

She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of my shorts and gave a little tug. "Four minutes and counting."

I jerked, as much from the realization that we had a timetable to keep as from the maddening pressure between my legs. "I guess we should go then."

She didn't wait for me, and I made it into the dressing room just in time to catch the dress as she pulled it over her head and tossed it in my direction. Then she slid the G-string off and threw that too. I caught it one-handed and slid it into my pocket. She caught the motion and her eyes widened.

"Souvenir?" she asked.

I quickly rehung the dress and took down the bathing suit. "Underwear fetish," I replied with a straight face and handed her the bottoms.

Laughing, she stepped into the minuscule bikini bottom. "Pervert." She turned to the mirror and checked her makeup. "G.o.d, those lights are hot out there. Make sure you have a towel ready for the next change."

"Okay." Her body was already misted with a fine sheen of moisture. It made her skin glow, and I seriously doubted that anyone in the audience would mind watching beads of sweat trickle down her tight abdomen and pool in the shallow indentation of her belly b.u.t.ton. I had a quick flash of kneeling in front of her and dipping the tip of my tongue into that delicious...

"One minute," CC whispered.

I caught a glimpse of her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s in the mirror. The shallow V between them was flushed, the way a woman's skin will get when she's aroused. CC lifted her arms, watching my reflection in the gla.s.s.

"You'd better finish dressing me, don't you think?"

I realized I still held the bikini top in my hand. It was really just a swatch of material that covered a tiny bit of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and tied in the back. No straps, no clasps, no much of anything at all. I stepped behind her, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror. I reached around her and stretched the thin fabric across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, molding my fingers to the soft undersides, my thumbs just grazing her nipples. She caught her breath sharply and I felt her body twitch against me.

"Hold that up," I instructed, my breath lifting the hair against the side of her neck, "while I tie it in the back." I kept my hands where they were until she reached for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, our fingers gliding together as our hands changed places. I watched her unconsciously stroke her nipples as I tied the thin strand between her delicate shoulder blades. She leaned ever so slightly against me, the curve of her a.s.s fitting perfectly against my crotch. I wanted to slide one hand down her taut stomach and dip my fingers beneath the tiny triangle of red that covered the red-gold beneath. When I looked down to where my fingers ached to explore, I saw the faint bulge of her c.l.i.toris tent the tight fabric that barely spanned the width of her c.u.n.t.

"Thirty seconds," I said. She still cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her eyes were heavy-lidded as her gaze met mine in the mirror.

"Thank you." Her voice was like warm whiskey, raw and intoxicating.

I stepped back and didn't touch her, because she had a show to do and I didn't trust myself to do more than look. I followed her out, watched her work the crowd, saw the l.u.s.t in women's eyes as they f.u.c.ked her in their minds. She didn't stop where I waited as she hurried backstage this time, and I rushed after her.

As soon as the door closed behind me, she practically tore off the suit. "I don't want to sweat this up. Wipe me down, will you?"

"Personally, I think any of those women in the audience would pay big bucks for a bathing suit with a little bit of your sweat on it," I said as I grabbed a soft hand towel and patted her neck and chest with it. "h.e.l.l, some of them would probably pay to lick it off."

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, laughing softly. "Maybe you can sell the towels later. Get my stomach and legs, too."

It was easier to do it kneeling, so I did. I hoped she was watching die clock, because I wasn't. I was watching the way her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rose and fell with each slightly uneven breath and the ripple of muscles in her stomach as I brushed the towel over her skin. When the backs of my fingers grazed her mons, she moaned softly and shifted enough to open her legs. The shining tip of her c.l.i.t protruded between the deep rose lips of her p.u.s.s.y. I pressed a knuckle very lightly to the swollen hood of her c.l.i.t.

"You're wet here, too."

"I know," she breathed. "It always happens."