@2

Hunter walked casually over to the group as if he had just emerged from the restaurant and said loudly, "Hey, Sherrill, what's up big sister? Need some help?"

The three predators whipped around at this unexpected intrusion. When they saw that there was only one person, they stopped their badgering of the mother and her children and fanned out to wait for Hunter. He was only one, and they were three.

'The problem that these people always have,' he thought, 'is that they believe they can scare everybody by having more numbers...it always seems to take more than one of these clowns.'

They braced Hunter in a triangle with the leader in the center. He would take on Hunter first, and the others would close in from each side. They thought.

"Hi, folks," he said brightly. "Anybody here need a little help?"

"Take a hike, jerkoff," the fearless leader ordered.

"Mmmm, I don't think so. My sister here, good to see you Sherrill...it's been a while...seems to need some help, and I sorta consider myself a helper extraordinaire."

"We don't care what kinda disease you got, your sister's a piece of trash...look at the retard she squirted out...and look at that goofy kid grinning like a potted plant. Yep," and he looked around for agreement, "there oughta be a law against stuff like this screwing up a good parking space. Let's git this fool."

They were expecting Hunter to do some moving around or the typical looking from one to the other while trying to assume some fighting position. Instead, he strode up to the leader and smashed him directly in the face, breaking his nose and bringing a gout of blood. Without wasting effort, he spun to his right since the next target was closer, slanted left, placed his right leg in front of the man as he grabbed his shirt and arm, and slammed him to the asphalt, following up with a wicked kick to his stomach.

All-American man number three kept coming from behind Hunter but had lost a good bit of his steam since his two friends were writhing on the pavement and obviously useless. Hunter turned left, ducking a desperate grab, locked onto the extended right arm of the young man, whirled him in a semi-circle and slammed him headfirst into the side of the van. He bounced as if the side of the Toyota were a trampoline and dropped to the pavement like a felled oak.

"Sherrill," he addressed the woman-who-wasn't-his-sister, "I'm really sorry about the trash we have to put up with every now and then. But, hopefully, you and your family won't have any more difficulty tonight. I see their truck is from out-of-state, anyhow, so they'll be leaving right now. ...Won't you?" he demanded of idiots one, two and three.

"Yeah, you bastard," muttered their still bleeding no-longer-fearless leader as they picked themselves off the warm pavement and staggered toward their truck.

Hunter smiled at the woman and her two sons, wished them a pleasant evening, and climbed the steps to the porch where Reagan waited. She stood and threw her arms about him. "Hunter, I was afraid that with three of them you'd get hurt. What exactly did you just do there?"

The two of them looked around at the small crowd of observers who were smiling and nodding to the couple. Then he took her arm, led her to their truck and drove home.

Chapter 10

Worship of This Moment

After unlocking the cabin and turning up lights, Hunter asked Reagan to sit beside him in the porch swing, a position that gave them a view of the darkened Little River Canyon.

She opened her jacket, leaned inside his left arm and against his chest, and placed his hand on her breast. Neither spoke for a time.

"In case you are wondering, Hunter, I am still wet...when you touched my breast I came again. It was a sweet little rattle between my legs. I hope you are satisfied with my glorious mess between my thighs; I know I am!"

They sat drinking in the night and its sounds. A waning full moon filled the sky and they rested in its pale light. A whippoorwill called over the rise down the road; nearer the cabin the cicadas, 17-year locusts, wound up their wiry racket as if their death were light years away instead of a few short days. At the back of the house Hunter's mockingbird Big Al played every one of its chirps and warbles while bouncing up and down on the peak of the metal roof.

The woman in his arms stirred and sighed, her soft perfume of something Old South and genteel wafting in and out of the night scents of pine, honeysuckle and the odd grapey smell of kudzu. She clasped both his hands to her breasts still covered by the thin sweater, then decided to remove the garment altogether. She sat up and with Hunter's help, pulled it over her head and off her arms, removing her half-bra along with it. Then she sat back in his embrace and replaced his hands on her warm white flesh.

"Ahhh," he sighed almost inaudibly, relishing the full heaviness and weight of her beauties as he looked down over their shape in his hands. Breasts are such gorgeous creations. Men are hard-wired to hunger at the sight of them, the sensuous way they quiver in and out of clothing, their heaviness as they hang suspended from a woman's body when she bends over, the thought of sucking their nipples, preferably plump and longer ones, and tasting milk from within the body of their lovers.

Reagan's were large, firm but not so much that they didn't tremble like bowls of custard pudding in her wispy brassieres and when she wore none at all, and magical in the way they comforted him even as they excited him.

"Am I good for you, Darling/" she asked softly. "Do my breasts satisfy your desires and arouse you when you look at me and when you make love to them...like now?"

"You are mysterious magic to my heart, Reagan...my Madison. This time with you here in the quiet and surrounded by these smells is literally ceremonial for me. I don't really know how to explain what the heavy softness of your breasts does to me. It's as if your lovely gifts feed some deep part of me. Touching you and caressing you fills me with satisfaction and brings me rest. I am relaxed, yet I burn for you. And I believe I always will. Yes, my lusty, sensuous woman, you are good for me. Your breasts satisfy my my longings and arouse me when I look at you, when I watch them jiggle, when I constantly look down your tops. They make me want others to see you, too. Tell me, Angel, how do your breasts feel to you?"

"My, aren't you the poetic and perceptive one!" she giggled as she made him thumb her nipples until they stood out like large cherries. "I have never been asked that, and it is a delicious subject. I am so in love with my breasts, and I know you understand what I mean. I am always aware of them as they brush my arms, as I look down over my chest and see how large they are and how my nipples press out. I do touch and play with them during a day, Hunter, and it excites me. A lot of women do this. You men may not see us but large or small, we really enjoy these beauties on our chests."

"What do they feel like? Do you ever get tired of carrying around that weight? Because, honeh," and his voice became deep and accentuated, "you got some real weight in those big babies! Holey Moley."

She chuckled and squeezed his hands appreciatively. "I am so thankful that you admire and enjoy them. They are yours, Hunter. You may not believe this, but you are free to grasp them, hold them, play with them anywhere you want to, I don't care where we are or who we are talking to. I truly believe that one of the most sensuous things you could do with me is to be with friends, and to open my blouse, remove my breasts completely and play with me. OH!

"Uh...oh, I'm sorry. Saying that gets me steamy...Lord, Hunter! Oooo...Oh, wow! Here I go again...just talking like this to you made me come. Maybe I need to get these pants off and just sit here naked having orgasms with you. Your touch, saying erotic things to you, touching you and myself all fire me up, I'm going to have to take a cold shower tonight just to be able to sleep at all."

"Now, Reagan, honey, I certainly don't want to tire you out or use you up," he intoned sanctimoniously in his best southern-accented Big Daddy voice.

"Yeah...right!" she laughed, then continued.

"Oh, all right...they feel very heavy and comforting to me. I have actually sat in offices and stood in lines and touched my breasts, squeezed them, and even removed them from my top to expose them. Those times are so exciting. To me my breasts are a source of sensation, arousal, sweet desire...of...of comfort. I have even brought them up to my mouth and sucked my nipples. You should see the reactions to that. And Hunter, darling, you cannot possibly tire me out or use me up. I am enough for you for a lifetime."

Her blue eyes with the long lashes bored into him. "I am yours. All that I am and hope to be and believe are yours."

She stood momentarily as he slid to the other end of the swing, then she lay lengthwise with her head in his lap. He stroked her neck, then her tummy, kissed her, and resumed fondling her breasts. Once more silence covered them like a velvet cloak as the scents and sounds of the night closed in. They and the creation seemed at peace on this now-warm late summer evening. The storm and chilly weather had passed quickly, his woman still had a small bit of fever, but she was comfortable and they could almost tangibly feel each other becoming one person in body and soul.

"I've never seen anything like what you did tonight. I admire you for it, Hunter. But what on earth happened?"

"Reagan, two things in life make me truly angry. One is the torment by someone strong of others weaker or more defenseless than themselves, usually just because they can get away with it. Your previous husband and the events back at the Grassroots fit into that category.

"The second is seeing someone who desperately needs help, with others who could do so instead standing around watching and doing nothing, or laughing...or even worse, just indifferent. One day not long ago, I saw a man with paralyzed legs who had to use a scooter accidentally turn over on the sidewalk. Three older teenagers saw it happen and just stood there watching him. As if he were some sort of squirming insect. I wheeled my truck out of traffic and to the curb and helped him. It was all I could do not to beat each one of those low lifes."

She felt something tremble in him. "Why do these so infuriate you, my lover who seems to be far older than his years appear?"

Hunter was quiet for a long moment, then he explained, "Because it cuts the heart out of what is necessary for a decent nation to exist, because it is dishonorable in the deepest sense of the word 'honor', and because it is just plain ugly. When someone needs help, you offer it...you don't laugh at their misery and worsen it."

In the travel of his hands over her warm flesh, Hunter realized that she needed a cover; he reached down beside the swing and gathered up a small afghan which he pulled over her. She stared at him, then said softly, "You are kind, Hunter, and your love opens my entire being to all that you want to do for and to me. Yet beside that gentleness I sense in you a deep strength and a great danger. The strength emerges in your self-control, the way you move, your grace and finesse and beliefs. The danger is tightly bound, you beautiful Orion, Hunter of my soul, until it breaks out for a worthy cause. There have been no men in my life like you. Not ever."

Neither had anyone ever complimented him as she just did. It silenced him.

"You don't have to answer. I love you in a way that makes me weak with longing and strong with commitment to you. You make me feel secure in a fashion that I could not buy with money. What ever did I do to deserve you?"

"I hope your former husband never appears around us, Reagan. He deliberately hurt you. I swear to you, I'll change his life forever. Now you are mine to love and worship and protect."

There in his arms as he talked softly she nevertheless sensed in him something lurking in the shadows, something of great size and incredible strength that moved, something in that quiet night that stood watch over her. It did not frighten her; rather, she called to mind one of those medieval-style pictures of a huge dragon bearing a generously-endowed woman to protect her from hideous creatures lusting to devour her. She felt like that woman.

Hunter stared down at Reagan. How had all this come to pass...the woman of his dreams and desires now in his arms and he voluntarily responsible for her? He looked out over the valley. This was right, it was beautiful, it bound and restrained him in a way he had desired and could never put into words.

Chapter 11

Once More Before We Leave

At some point that evening he picked up his woman and took her in to bed. They showered together, each washing and drying the other, then they slid between the sheets naked and exhausted. Reagan wriggled into his arms, reached for his shaft to place it between her legs and against her vagina, and slept all night that way. His last recollection was of the scent of her warm flesh and her hair.

Reagan awakened before Hunter, and she lay quietly in his embrace. For the first time in her life she felt safe and adored. She felt his penis, still enlarged though softened, between her thighs and she reached down to touch its crown.

'Hunter, if only you knew how truly beautiful are your stem and your balls. I know you guys kid about it, and you never stop to think about what a gorgeous, delicious gift you have. To me yours is exciting and immediately arousing. It is often soft, yet it is shaped so perfectly. I love its exposed head, the way it is all bare and so sensuous when you are hard and you walk. The sight of a luscious, hard, erect cock creates a desire to touch it, to hold it, even to devour it.

'You men can't expose yourselves the way we women can except in certain locations and in private. But if I had that gorgeous, delicious, hard, swollen shaft and your pretty round balls, I couldn't keep my hands off them. I'd have to work from home and be naked all the time. I would wear it out making love to it. And you'd better believe I would eat every bit of cream it produced!'

She didn't realize that her voice had risen from being a series of quiet personal thoughts to a strong statement voiced aloud in no uncertain terms. Without moving, Hunter had heard her last two remarks and said from behind her, "Really, now. You are that hungry at this hour of the day?"

"Ooops," she laughed as she turned over and faced him. "How much did you hear, you sly man?"

"The parts about you having to work from home, wearing out your cock making love to it and eating your cum."

"Well, does that bother you to know that I am enthralled at the sight of that lovely rod and your balls?"

"Nope, not at all. It is quite erotic to wake up in the morning and hear you discussing to yourself what you would do if you had my equipment. I am so thankful that you enjoy it. It's pretty much all I've got."

"Hunter, you are traveling my inner highways at an amazing rate. What you do to me when you enter between my legs and from behind is indescribably scenic, beautiful, sensuously possessive. Yes, dear one, if I had your cock I'd do just what I said. So there!" she announced triumphantly with a full, bright, throaty laugh.

He stared at her for a moment too long. "You aren't..., oh, Hunter...you are. Oh, heavens, how do you get so big this quickly! There, yes, right there, now slide in all the way. OH, LORD! You...you...how do you do this gorgeous thing to me?"Her voice, desperate and inviting, rose to a cry as he pressed completely into her. Quickly she lay on her back and spread her legs wide, awaiting his full penetration. Then she locked them high over his hips in a move that would be a credit to any contortionist. Reagan began their thrusting with violent movements of her hips, pushing and withdrawing, squirming, shouting, crying her thrill at his invasion. They lost themselves together that morning, he inflamed with heat and spurting heavy gouts of cum, she expelling an unusual flow of slippery oil, both of them making one more delicious mess on the sheets they had changed just the previous day.

As Hunter sighed and sat back with satisfaction to rest, she glared at him, then laughed and said, "OOOH, no you don't. You will turn me over and you will go storming into me like you did a while ago. I am hungry for you. I have to have you in me and all over me, and...and...oh, help me, Hunter, just do me!"

This time she lay flat on her tummy without spreading her legs as he located her hole and wet it with their cream; then, fully erect and swollen, he slipped into her anus, pressing deep and then withdrawing to lubricate his shaft before reentering her body. In a few moments he moved in and out of her with the same ease as if he were occupying her pussy.

Reagan whispered small things to herself, things only a woman should know. She grasped at the sheet, cried with pleasure, then mumbled once more. Twice she lifted her head and shook her thick black hair as if she were trying to really believe that she was so wonderfully impaled from behind by a man with an enormous spike.

"I need your cream inside of me, Hunter. Fill me. I am going to walk around all day dripping from you, and I just...canNOT...wait! That means no panties. That means if somebody sees it running down my legs then I will get hot and come some more. That means...oh... Damn! Here I go again!"

Hunter lost himself deep within her body, and he caught her by surprise this time. She was so possessed by her own approaching tsunami that she had reached beneath her body to shove her hand into her vagina, rubbing her clit and coaxing her orgasm, and she missed his stiffening until he burst into her hole with his own streams of sticky liquids.

"Oh, dear me, you surprised me. How did you slip up on me that way? That is precious of you...that is so sweet of you to completely surprise me. Feel me, lover, I am such a perfect, wonderful mess of a woman. I want to feel my legs slippery all day. I want to touch myself and get my fingers sticky. I'm going to have to put a towel on the seat of your truck when we go to Chattanooga because I'll drip cream on it and leave marks." She giggled like a teenager.

Hunter, sensing a chance to score smarty points, remarked, "Reagan, do you remember those World War II pictures of a little guy with a big nose draped over a table top and the words 'Kilroy Was Here'? They were plastered all over the known world."

"Yes, I've seen them."

"Well, we aren't going to put any towel over my truck seat. You can leave whatever delicious marks you like, and I'll put a picture of you on my dashboard with the logo, 'Reagan Was Here'."

"Hunter...you...lord, if that wasn't so sexy, I'd accuse you of being the precious smart-ass that I hope you'll always be. Fine! If you will make love to me one more gorgeous time before we leave, I'll provide a perfect well of slippery, sticky goo to wet your truck seat and I'll get you a picture as soon as we finish this. Satisfied?"

"Yup," he responded with a huge grin. "That is a deal. Got it on my schedule here, 'Screw Reagan once more before leaving for Chattanooga.'"

"You're grinning like a mule eating briars, aren't you? I can just see you...oh, can I ever feel you! You are having such fun and you've got me stuck to this bed with that marvelous thing inside me."

She trailed off as he began moving inside of her once more. The thought of having been in her pussy and now deep within her anal well aroused him again. He had expanded her hole and she took his anal intercourse with pleasure. There had never been any pain; it was as if she were awaiting his penetration. She'd never said whether she'd experienced it before, but it didn't matter.

Another half-hour inside his woman, sweetly, delicately undoing her emotionally and then rebuilding her higher than before, and he realized that they had to get ready if they were ever going to make it out of bed.

"Reagan, we have to get ready and leave. Otherwise, we'll never make it with time enough so you and Brenda don't have to hurry."

He pulled out of her to the accompaniment of her, "Oh, no, Hunter...too sweet...too precious...don't leave me now."

"Angel, like The Terminator, 'I'll be back'," he growled as he kissed her and helped her out of bed.

They showered together, and as he promised in bed he entered her once more. This was brief, tender, and in her passion she had to hang on to the towel bars to remain upright.

"See, I keep my promises," he stated. "I've screwed you once more time before we leave."

"Oh, good of you to identify what just happened, Hunter," she laughed. "I never would have guessed!"

Then they dressed for the day and left. Hunter wore a blue chambray shirt, gray slacks with a black blazer and his black boots. She was stunning in her simplicity. Reagan wore a long-sleeve, semi-transparent white blouse with no brassiere beneath a smooth black leather jacket, a very short and tight black matching skirt and black stiletto heels with the black card player Stetson he had treasured in her photograph. The contrast with her dark mascara, long lashes, red lips and those brilliant blue eyes was arresting. Her breasts pressed the blouse outward; she was sensuous beyond his expression.

Beside his truck as he helped her into the cab, he said, "Angel, you are the most beautiful and captivating woman I have ever known. Are you sure you really want me? I'm only me."

She halted and stared at him to emphasize what she was going to reply, then she answered, "Hunter, you already own me. No one else does. Not even Brenda. She is my friend and lover, but you alone possess my heart, my soul, my body, and my future. Want you? I own you as well, but I long for you. I feed from you. I breathe your love. Remember this, my lover...we have each other; we will not willingly ever be alone again."

With that she placed his hand over her breast, kissed him lightly and stepped up into the truck.

Chapter 12

A Lovely, Intimate, Generous Friend

Their trip into Chattanooga was simple fun. Reagan and he talked about things that contented and trusting lovers discuss. Would she like to get back into erotic displays on the internet? He told her, "I hope you will," and she said, "Yes, I would." Have you ever heard of the "Roswell Incident" in 1947? Both had and discovered that they had never discounted it. Well, what do you think about the Bermuda Triangle oddities over the years? Both were intrigued and neither had laughed it off. Do you believe in ghosts? Each remarked thoughtfully that they didn't know, but that they believed in the supernatural and its capacity for the unexplainable.

After roving the territory of weird subjects from horizon to horizon, they ran out of steam. They had discovered that neither would laugh at the other for some personal interest that most people thought was goofy. Hunter had to stop at the Alabama-Georgia line to get gas; Reagan dismounted from the truck to use the ladies' room and created an instant sensation around the gas island as her skirt rode up over her hips, momentarily baring her jet black fur and lovely bottom. She smiled at the trucker, the father and two women also parked there, then walked purposefully into the Rocket Mountain Fuel-Up where she created another sensation on her way to the back of the store.

While she was gone, Hunter phoned a friend in Florida and briefly explained the last several days with Reagan, who she was, and that he had a collection of every erotic picture she had posed on-line. He mentioned that she had expressed interest in returning to this activity; would his friend's organization be interested in viewing her file if he sent it and the other pictures he hoped to take this afternoon?

"Absolutely, Hunter!" exclaimed the young woman at the other end. "I just brought up her on-line name and a series of photos. That woman is knock-down, drag-out gorgeous. Ah...would you like for me to go up there and assist you in some way?"

He heard the clearly suggestive and hungry tone in her voice as Parker spoke. He recalled very well that though she was getting married to a fine man, she had a sexual temperature just slightly cooler than the surface of the sun and had been known to...well...he laughingly declined Parker's invitation and promised a file of erotic photos later that night.

Then he kicked himself as he remembered that he'd neglected to bring along his Canon digital camera and wide angle lens. Somehow he would have to make something work.

Back in the truck, Hunter remarked, "Honey, are you going to destroy every place we stop? You are a gorgeous woman in a skirt that is absolutely criminal it's so short."

"Well," she chuckled, "it does bare a teeny bit more than I thought. But it's exciting. Now touch my breast and then we can go."

He did so, she sighed as she placed her hand up her skirt and felt her liquids ooze once more, then she whispered, "Now we can go. I told you at the cabin that I wanted to be wet all morning so I can feel it running down my legs, and I am!" She sounded as if she were a delighted school-girl having just been invited to a big birthday party.

"So if I were to touch you sometime today, maybe at Brenda's home, you wouldn't mind and I'd find you wet?"

"I hope and pray you will do that. At Brenda's house. And given the condition between my thighs right now, it's safe to say you'll find me sticky, hot and on the verge of collapse for you. Oh, and Hunter, I'm giving you my photograph for your dashboard here...I've wet your seat very nicely and this is only the beginning."

"You know, Reagan, I am absolutely certain that I am keeping you forever. There is now no possibility whatever for you to escape my lustful but loyal clutches."

"At last! That is what I've needed to hear since I met you. I am truly your kept woman. I'm yours, Hunter."

He looked over at her and saw her staring at him with an intensity that could only come from a woman in love and deeply committed to her man. She looked so regal in that black flat-crowned Stetson, the matching leather jacket and skirt and those jet black spikes. Her stare was powerful enough to melt metal, and those eyes, Lord, those eyes, her uninhibited display of everything her skirt might have covered but never would, and those stunning legs.

"Yes, you are, Reagan. And I am yours."

They arrived at Brenda's home, parked in the driveway and walked toward the front door. It opened and down the steps flew a young woman with a wide smile, laughing gray eyes, an unusually slender body with quite a memorable chest, and the longest, kinkiest mane of red hair Hunter had ever seen.

"Reagan, angel, I am so happy to see you!" she exclaimed as they kissed intimately and hungrily.

"Brenda, you are such a lovely vision for a lover who has missed you more than I can express."

Hunter stood slightly behind Reagan and remained quiet out of respect for their sensuous greeting. Then Reagan turned, drew him close with her arm about his waist and said," Brenda, this is Hunter...my beloved Hunter. He holds my heart."

"Hunter," she said with a bright smile and a hug, "you are indeed a joy to this woman who is so dear to me. Care for her and love her beyond anything else in your life; she is well worth any and every sacrifice."

"Brenda, I am thankful to be able to meet you. And yes, I agree with you. She is the center of my life."

After the obligatory tour of her home, Brenda escorted her guests to the large pool and patio area, casually removing her blouse as she did so. She was truly a traffic stopper. Her enormous fall of coppery hued hair formed a lovely backdrop to her slim body and her extremely large breasts. She acted as if this were the most normal thing a hostess would do.

Hunter had to admit that she really possessed an enviable rack, and wondered just how much she revealed in class at the University of Chattanooga. He could not imagine a sensuous woman with her assets not wearing revealing clothing in class. It would be well within appropriate dress limits, but he would love to be on the front row of her class as she bent over or walked about the room. He looked over at Reagan and saw that she had already removed her jacket and blouse.

As he watched, Brenda walked over to her friend, stepped behind her to clasp Reagan's white breasts, and said, "Hunter, I know Reagan has said something to you about our relationship for several years. I hope you understand our time this afternoon. We would really appreciate your remaining here to watch us and enjoy our erotica."

"Brenda, I understand. I told Reagan that I definitely wanted her to continue this love with you. It does not trouble me at all. I hope it's all right with the two of you if I become, ah, shall we say, 'normally appreciative and appropriately aroused at your time together."

"Honey," said Reagan with her brilliant smile, "I not only want you to become appreciative and aroused. I'd really like for you to take part with us if you want to. Please."

She drilled him with her hot gaze, then turned to her lover and kissed her. Brenda slid her hand between Reagan's thighs as she complimented her on having nerve enough to wear such a tiny skirt, then withdrew it with a broad grin and said, "Baby, you are as wet as I get with you! You and this gorgeous man here have been..."

"Ohhhh, yes! Brenda, he is so lovely and so blessed with...ah...you just have to see him, Brenda. I have an idea for this afternoon." She whispered to Brenda as the latter continued stroking the now slippery flesh between her thighs. Finally, as Reagan threw her head back and let out a loud groan, Brenda said, "That is a perfectly wonderful idea. We'll do it."

Hunter felt as if he were an item in an exhibit, but he quickly assessed the situation with the two sensuous women now in full heat with each other, and concluded that whatever they were planning, it would have to be erotic and exciting.

Brenda came up for air after enjoying a time between Reagan's legs and said brightly to Hunter, "Lovely man, will you go inside and get the camera that is on the kitchen island? We'd like for you to take pictures of us today, everything, and then we can..."

She stopped and with a cryptic and very inviting smile at him, then shook her heavy breasts as she returned to Reagan who was now completely naked. Brenda removed her own skirt and lay down with Reagan on a large lounge.

Then the two lovers began a marathon afternoon of sensuous play, intimacies, laughing conversation as they caressed each other, literally devouring each other's bodies. Hunter photographed away, taking wide-angle pictures, then augmenting these with extremely close-up pictures of each woman consuming the other's pussy, licking her nipples, kissing and sucking each other's tongue.

Especially erotic were Reagan's and Brenda's inserting of their hands into the other's vagina and seeing how far they could actually go. In the end, each woman gifted her lover with an insertion past her wrist complete with squeezing her hand into a ball and then sliding her fingers over the inner walls of her pussy. Brenda became so aroused with Reagan's skill that she lost control and, giggling like a schoolgirl, urinated a heavy stream onto the lounge where they were lying. Reagan followed this erotic display by pressing her face into Brenda's pussy and devouring the moisture there.

Hunter deeply regretted that he had no way of capturing the joyful cries, sighs and moans of two women consumed be each other. But he knew that he had made up for it with a series of pictures so intimate and sensuous that Parker would want them all.

Chapter 13

Hunter's Surprise

After three hours of highly charged lesbian activity, Reagan and Brenda ceased their affections, went inside to bathe while Hunter checked the photos and organized them, then returned and confronted him.

"What?" he asked as the two women stood before him with expressions bordering on near-starvation and a determination to feast on the object before them.

"Hunter, you indicated that you'd of our time this afternoon. We want very much for you to do that," stated Brenda as Reagan nodded. "Will you let us take off your clothes and take pictures of you posing for us?"

He hadn't anticipated that, but what man could refuse two stunning and sensuous women wanting to undress him? He agreed. By the time they'd finished slowly, deliciously removing his clothes he was hot as a Saturday-night special and hard as steel.

"Reagan, he is absolutely gorgeous! Where did you get this beautiful creation? Hunter, forgive me for being blunt, but you are the loveliest man I've ever seen. Honey, I know what you and Reagan have been doing in that cabin on the mountain top!"

Thus began Hunter's afternoon of erotic photography...of himself by two scheming, sexually aroused, imaginative women. By the time they had concluded they had photographed him in a series of poses so extensive and complete that neither woman could think of anything else to ask him to do. Except one.

"Hunter," said Reagan, "I want you to hold yourself, make love to your gorgeous penis, caress your balls, and come for us. We can wait for you to do it twice. Brenda wants to taste you and swallow some of it, and you know that I am here to eat you alive."

Again, he realized that with two beauties desiring him in this fashion, who was he to refuse them?

This session took another hour. Each one caressed him as the other took close-up pictures of his swollen cock; his entire smooth body; his form in silhouette displaying his hardened penis as he knelt, stood, reclined and laid back to show off his erection; and at the end, of him slowly consuming several streamers of his rich cream after they had devoured him. He proved to be an ideal subject with a sense of how he could improve the sensuality of the photos by doing small things. He was perfectly at ease and he never looked directly at the camera.

Brenda and Reagan made supper while Hunter used Brenda's powerful computer to log into his filing system and send to his friend her two files, the one of Reagan's on-line erotica and the entire battery of photos from that afternoon's shooting. It took all of half an hour for the phone to ring. It was a thoroughly aroused Parker Scott from PRISM Designs in Florida.

"Hunter, you have sent me pictures of one of the most sensuous and beautiful women on the internet! I want to meet the two of you to discuss your participation in our program of male and female erotica. Please tell Reagan that we definitely want to spend some time with her."

"Parker...hold on," he laughed. "Do you want to spend some time with her in order to work out a good contract, or do you want to spend some time with her..." And he trailed off at her snickering interruption.

"Okay, okay, Hunter. So you know me. My fiancé is used to me by now, and I guess you are, too. Actually, both. I'll get back in touch with you on that later this week. The two of you are living together now, aren't you?"

"Yes. I'll never part with this woman, Parker."

"Good. Tell that gorgeous woman that I guarantee she is back doing something for us that both of you will thoroughly enjoy. And tell Brenda that if she wants to become a part of this, all she has to do is let me know. Love ya!"He returned to the kitchen. "Ladies," he announced to the two laughing women who were cutting up as old friends do, "Reagan, I just talked with a friend in an organization that is one of the leaders in on-line sensuality. She has offered you a contract for your return to erotica. Parker Scott of PRISM Designs wants to meet with you."

"Oh, Hunter, I know who those people are. That is an incredible opportunity! You did this for me, for us. Thank you, angel." And with that, Reagan broke into tears of joy.

"You know," Brenda remarked with a twinkle in her eyes, "this sounds like something so fine that you need to pay back your man, Honey."

"Oh, yes, Brenda. And I've got a pretty good idea just how to do it, too."