Monday October 10 I got an email from Oliver yesterday: To: Lexi From: Oliver Subject: Interested in a job? Lexi - I need a beautiful young woman for an undercover job. I'm swamped, so you'd have to take the lead on the whole investigation. Make a few bucks, gain some experience, and maybe we could swing some college credits if it fits with your coursework. What do you say? Oliver was the guy who coaxed me into dating a guy, Paris, and then paid me to spy on Paris' family, a few months ago. He's a private investigator who works for a law firm. Nice guy, and he's the only one who's ever given me any practical encouragement in a possible investigative career. When it became clear that I won't ever be able to work for the FBI I figured a regular software job was most likely in my future. I'm all signed up to resume college next semester after this year's unfortunate pause. But I do like mysteries, so maybe I shouldn't rule investigations out completely. Maybe I could do computer forensics? Anyway, I met Oliver at his office today. "Our client is a woman your age who subscribed to a dating website," Oliver explained. "She met a man, they clicked, they had sex - and she became pregnant. We believe that he deliberately sabotaged the condom. We think it's a pattern of behavior: he gets off on impregnating women against their will. 'Stealthing,' they call it. We want to catch him in the act." I don't know how Oliver could have known it, but reckless pregnancies are sort of a big issue for me. I guess it's because I was raised Catholic. "Fucker!" I replied. "So what happens if we catch him? Is that considered rape or fraud or what?" Oliver frowned. "It's unlikely that we could meet the burden for a criminal case," he explained. "But there are a variety of civil avenues to pursue. We're hoping that with your help we could punish him severely enough to send a message to anyone else thinking about it." "Hmm," I said rolling it over in my head. "Wait, so how do we catch him? What exactly do you expect me to do?" "Well," Oliver said awkwardly, "you would have to sleep with him. Hopefully on camera. Hopefully you could preserve the condom." "Oh...," I said, not knowing what to think. I mean, I've slept with people to achieve my goals before - I've got nothing against using sex as a tool. But those have always been my goals; it's always been my idea. Nobody has ever said, "Hey, I want you to sleep with this stranger. I'll pay you." It's no big deal, right? Undercover cops probably do this sort of thing all the time. But then, so do prostitutes. Oliver spoke again to break the silence. "Of course, first we'd need for him to find you. We'll sign you up for the dating site and model your profile after our client's. Maybe change your look a little too. Hopefully we can replicate the qualities that attracted him to Mandy." I was ashamed of my shallowness at even wondering, but I couldn't help but ask: "What does this guy look like?" Oliver brought up a picture on his computer. It was a blond guy, well-built in a tight T-shirt, laughing and looking at something off-camera. It was exactly the sort of picture you'd want to use for a dating site. Or to sell a picture frame. He was definitely boneable. "And this is Mandy," Oliver said after a moment, switching to a picture of a girl. She was average size and fit, like me, with black hair in a short bob haircut. Maybe Oliver was playing me, but she just looked so innocent and carefree. I could imagine the dread she must have felt when her period was late by a day, and then another and another, until she finally took a test and confirmed her fears. "The baby...?" I asked. "She had an abortion," Oliver said with a hint of sorrow. "Oh...," I replied. "Let me think about it?" "Of course," he said.

Wednesday October 12 I talked with my roommate Juliet about the mission. She says I should do it. She's really excited, hoping that when all is said and done, she can turn it into a story for the online magazine she works at. "Besides," she told me, "you've still got a lot of screwing before you can move on from being dumped by Paris." "The breakup was mutual," I told her. "Sure it was, honey," she said while condescendingly patting my head. "Anyway, once I find him I only expect to do him once," I explained. "That's not exactly what I'd call 'a lot of screwing'." "Well, sure, you'll only do him once," Juliet replied. "But what about all the other guys you'll meet on this dating site? Think about it - you'll be creating this fake persona to seem more like this Mandy chick, right? Think of all the interesting guys you can meet, use, and throw away!" When she saw the frown on my face she rolled her eyes and added, "Maybe you'll even fall in love. It did sound kind of fun.

Oliver wants me to take the lead on the investigation, so the first thing I did was interview Mandy. She's a pharmacy assistant; pretty but very shy. Her friends had to twist her arm to get her to try the dating site - MyOtherHalf.com. Richard was the first guy she actually went out with from there. We went over her profile: she's into evenings at home reading books, and window shopping for multi-million dollar houses online. She doesn't have any pets of her own, but sometimes she takes pictures of other people's dogs. I friended her on various social media so that I could get a better sense of who she is. Then I asked her to tell me about the actual date. "We went for coffee, and I swear that was all it was supposed to be. But he was so nice, and so beautiful, and so when he asked to take a walk in the park I said yes. Where's the harm in that, mmm?" "He held my hand while we walked. It seemed we had all sorts of things in common. Then, after a while I had to pee, so I asked if he knew where a bathroom was. He said his apartment was only two minutes' walk away, so we went there." "After I was done he asked if I wanted a soda or beer, but I ended up having a wine cooler. We sat on his couch and... we started talking about dirty stuff. Like, he told me about how nervous he was the first time he tried to unhook a girl's bra. He started late on sex, like me, mmm?" "When did you become sexually active?" I interrupted. "When I was eighteen," Mandy told me. "And then he put his hand on my thigh and this warmth spread through my whole body. My legs spread, just a little bit, without me even wanting to," she continued. "So then he laid me down on the couch and started kissing me, and then he whispered, 'let's go to the bedroom,' and I nodded. And then he carried me there. I mean, what girl could resist that, mmm?" "He was taking off my clothes - his too - and he asked me if I was on the pill. I said no, and I was worried what he might think, but he said that was better: he doesn't trust all those fake hormones and he prefers the natural me." "So he took a rubber from the night stand and I put it on him - it looked totally fine to me, mmm? And I spread my legs for him, but then he said, no, let's do it the natural way. He moved me onto my hands and knees and then he thrust his peter into me. And it hurt for a second, like it always does, but then he was grunting and shoving and it felt so good and... and... so primal. "Have you ever done it like that?" Mandy asked me. She seemed genuinely unsure whether I could relate to doggy-style. "I mean, of course you have - you're so beautiful!" I made sure I didn't laugh at her reasoning. "So he's grunting and grabbing my behind," she said, continuing her story, "and he feels so good sliding in and out of my cunny. And then he asked me when my last period was - am I ovulating, mmm? And he starts talking about how he's the alpha male, and I had chosen him to plant his seed in me. In hindsight that should have been a red flag, but I thought it was just dirty-talk, mmm?" "Then my pelvic muscles started squeezing in time with his thrusts, all on their own. And I said, 'I don't even know what's happening now!' But I said it in a good way." "He said, 'I do - your body wants my cock and my come, and I've got plenty of both to give you!'" Mandy's voice dropped to a near-whisper as she went on, "And then I had an orgasm." She continued, at normal volume: "I tried to stay quiet, but then he told me to moan - to show him how much I wanted his, um, stuff. So I did, and he started making noise. He grabbed me tighter and then he had an orgasm." Mandy looked at me to make sure I was still following her story. "Did you see if he still had the condom on when he was done?" I asked. "Well, I didn't notice," she told me, "He went to pee straight away. But if he had put his stuff in me - the full amount - wouldn't I have felt it?" "You would have noticed it leaking out of you pretty quickly," I told her. "So then what happened?" "He walked me back to my car," she said. "We kept exchanging messages - we were going to see each other again. But I had a wedding I had to go to the next weekend, and after that, my period was late. I was sort of panicking by then, mmm? I haven't responded to his messages since then." "And you're sure it was Richard who got you pregnant?" I asked. "You haven't had sex of any kind with anyone else?" "No!" She pleaded. "It's been almost a year since I've been intimate with anyone else! You've got to believe me!" "I do," I told her. "I just had to make sure I understood." By the end of the interview, Mandy was looking at me with so much hope - like I was some sort of superhero here to rescue her. I hope I can help see that justice is done.

Thursday October 13 Two things I'm going to need before I can make a dating profile: a makeover and some pictures. Maybe this Richard guy will be attracted to me with my normal look, but maybe not. It seems wise to try to look a little more like Mandy did in her profile pics. The clothes I think I've got covered. Since I've been working at Lemming Sea Software, I've been mostly wearing business casual stuff - dresses and skirts, blouses, cardigans, and so on. That pretty well matches Mandy's style, and I can fill in the gap with a little inexpensive shopping tomorrow. Oliver turned me on to a hair stylist who's going to give me a Mandy-inspired makeover. For pictures, I'm hoping I can count on my friend Martin. I wrote an email to him today from work while my code was compiling. Free this weekend? To: Martin From: Lexi Hey Martin! I'm trying out a new look and I need some pics! Any chance you're free for a couple hours this weekend? There's nobody whose lens I'd rather rather sit for! He replied soon after. Re: Free this weekend? To: Lexi From: Martin Sure, we can get together any time! Is this going to be more nudes, or will Reddit be deprived of your beauty for yet another month? ;) I wrote back. Re: Re: Free this weekend? To: Martin From: Lexi Nothing like that this time. I'll tell you about it when I see you. Thanks! I've been working at Lemming Sea part time for three months now. The company's main product is custom educational mobile games, but my job is to help make the web sites that go with the games. When school starts in January I'll be splitting my time between college and work.

Friday October 14 It feels weird to have so little hair! My hair was never really long before - usually neck or shoulder length - but it's never been this short before! Gone are my brown waves; my hair is now black and pixie-cut. I have freckles, too, and they're actually really cute! Carol did them with henna. She says they'll only last a few days, but that there are a million videos on YouTube to show me how to do them myself.

Saturday October 15 Martin's jaw dropped when he saw my new look. "Good? Bad?" I asked after hugging him. "You never cease to amaze me with the ways you can be beautiful," he said, completely seriously. "Aww!" I said and touched his shoulder. I didn't want to hug him again for fear of leading him on. Things have been a little strained between us since we slept together a year ago. Martin has grown his hair out since then. It suits him. His hair always somehow looked a bit shaggy, but the dress code at our high school, Saint Frances, required him to keep it short. Now that his hair is longer, it comes across as rebellious rather than slovenly. "So what's the deal?" He asked. "I'm sort of doing a sting operation on a dating site," I explained as I thumbed through my phone for pictures of Mandy. "I need some profile pictures that will appeal to the same guys as these," I continued, showing him some. Martin looked through the pictures. "I need the photos to be good, but not really professional looking - if that's not an insult to you art," I said with a smile. "A fun challenge," Martin said with a laugh. "And we don't want them to look like they were all taken at once, so we'll have to do different clothes and different locations," I finished. So we spent the day taking pictures. The one I like best is me sitting on the steps outside city hall - not that you could tell whose steps they were. A breeze is blowing my skirt just a little, and I've got a contemplative, hopeful look - very Mandy. Then there's a supposedly candid sitting-in-a-car pic, where the seatbelt accentuates my breasts. I like they lying-on-the-floor-watching-tv one, too. Martin set all these up. He's awesome. For many of the pictures I left my glasses off. Mandy doesn't wear glasses, after all, and I know they're a turn-off for some guys. But I insisted on wearing them for some: If I actually go on any dates I'll need to wear them, and I don't want anyone to feel deceived. We had fun, and we got exactly the kinds of pictures I was hoping for, but there was an aura of weirdness between us the whole time. He never said it, but I swear I could feel the question on the tip of his tongue the whole time: "Can we have sex again?" We both ignored it, but we both knew it was there. I called my dad to see if he was interested in dinner with me and Martin. I kinda wanted to cook for him. I haven't seen Dad since January when he basically cut me off. Things are better between us now, and since I was in town it seemed like a good opportunity for a visit. He couldn't make it, though: He had a date. I guess the divorce has been suspended but my parents are still separated and they have some sort of arrangement to see other people. Hmph. So Martin and I ate Mongolian Barbecue and then I hit the road for the two hour drive home. Martin was done editing the photos by then - mostly subtle things like removing the image metadata.

Sunday October 16 Juliet and I spent this evening creating my new profile, and then getting drunk and reading about the guys that the site suggested for me. It's a little weird, lying in my profile. It's important that I attract the same guys as Mandy, of course, but my favorite activity really isn't staying at home reading romance novels. I don't think I've read a single one, actually - unless Dr. Welsh's domination porn counts. I decided to go with the name "Allie". Nobody I currently know ever calls me that, but it's a fair abbreviation of Alexis, so it won't cause too much trouble if my real and pretend worlds ever collide. Juliet pushed for "Alex", but a girl with a guy's name just seems too cliched to me. Even if I'm not interested in dating them, some of these guys sound really interesting. And of course, some of them are really cute. Juliet wasn't going to let me go to bed until I responded to one of them, so I exchanged a few messages with Javier. He's a cop. We're meeting tomorrow night.

Monday October 17 Several people at work commented about my new look, including the boss, Chris. They were surprised but I think it went over well. I had dinner with Javier from the dating site. I like him although I'm not sure how much we'll have in common in the long run. We kissed at the end of the meal, I guess just to show each other that we were interested. He's into some kind of martial arts. He sent me a pic of him after the date, shirtless and in boxing shorts. That definitely makes me want to see him again.

Tuesday October 18 Another dinner with Javier, and then we went back to his place. Yeah, you know where this is heading. He showed me around the house he and two other rookie cops are renting together. They were conspicuously absent. His basement is a training room, with a wrestling mat, free weights, and one of those big sandbags for punching hanging from a hook. "Teach me how to throw a punch!" I challenged him once we were down there. He told me that most of the power of a punch comes from the legs and hips. He put his hands on my hips to guide me, which was... distracting. At other times he guided my shoulders or positioned my hands. His hands were so much bigger and stronger than mine! He was taking my request for a lesson totally seriously, but I confess that to me, it was foreplay. Still, I did learn a thing or two, so after a few minutes I was hitting the bag pretty hard. "Okay, I think I get it," I told him, "but what if I need to punch someone in my underwear? Does my technique change?" I unbuttoned my skirt and let it fall to the ground. "I'm glad you asked," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "The technique is the same, but this lets me illustrate your good form. Here, stand like this," he said, guiding me into a ready stance from behind me with his hands on my hips again. "See how your weight is distributed evenly between both legs? You should be able to feel it here," he said, and he stroked his hand up the inner thigh of my forward leg. "And here," he continued, stroking my other thigh. I almost exploded from the intensity. "Pay attention to how it feels here, too," he said, this time caressing my ass. I whimpered, but stayed in position. "Are you a dancer, Allie?" He asked, his hands lingering on my butt. I shook my head. "You've got a dancer's ass." "You shouldn't feel like your legs are supporting you," he went on. "Imagine that your body is suspended from a string at the top of your head." He put a hand on my head. "Everything should feel nice and loose," he went on, and he grabbed my pussy. I was loose; I was open; I was ready. "Do you have any condoms?" I asked, leaning back against his body. "Yeah," Javier told me. "Let's go to the bedroom." "No - let's do it here," I said. "This place smells like men. It's kinda hot." "Okay. I'll be right back," he said and went up the stairs. One of the cops had left his belt (but not his gun) lying on the floor, so I helped myself to a pair of handcuffs. I unbuttoned my shirt, revealing a baby-blue bra that matched my panties, and got in position. I handcuffed myself to the punching bag, my hands over my head and cuffed around the chain holding it up. When Javier came back he didn't need any more encouragement. He took off his shirt and then unhooked my bra - the clasp was in the front. He felt me up so good! I can't remember the last time I enjoyed hands on my boobs that much! Then he dropped to his knees and kissed my belly while groping my ass. Finally, he peeled off my panties. My pussy was begging to be licked, but instead he took a big sniff. He stood up and kissed and fondled me some more. I held myself up by the chain and tried unbuttoning his pants with my feet, but that was doomed to failure. Fortunately, Javier agreed with the idea of getting rid of the rest of his clothes. His cock... I've seen dicks that bend before, but not like this. His curved upward by something like forty-five degrees. I wondered what effect that had on sex - whether it made certain positions better or worse. I was pretty eager to find out. Being chained to the punching bad was definitely a good way to start things, but it wasn't going to be practical at all for actual sex: It provided no support for me to lean against and the shifting and swaying probably would have been too difficult. I think Javier came to the same conclusion, because he uncuffed me from the punching bag and then re-cuffed me with my hands in front. He sat me down straddling the weight bench. I watched excitedly while he put a rubber on his cock. Then he showed me a bottle of lube. "You know what this is for, right?" He said devilishly. I nodded. "And you're okay with that?" "Definitely!" I said and I leaded forward, resting my elbows on the bench. Javier moved behind me and smeared lube between my cheeks with his fingers. Then he sat down behind me and inched forward so that his cock was pressing against my asshole. And then he penetrated me. It was definitely a weird angle, but he managed to wiggle his dick deeper and deeper into me until his hips were right up against my ass. I groaned the whole time. I repositioned once Javier started thrusting - still leaning forward but with my hands on the bench and my elbows locked. Both of his arms were wrapped around me. I imagined that we looked sort of like we were riding a motorcycle. "Have you done anal before?" He asked, pumping his cock in my ass steadily. "Yeah," I answered. "Why?" "It went in easy, but you're just so fucking tight!" He explained. I shrugged. My shirt and bra were still open in front and my shrug reminded me of that. "Touch my boobs," I instructed my partner. He kept one arm wrapped around my waist, which was probably a good thing: with the amount of lube that had leaked beneath us and how hard he was thrusting, I might have gone flying off the bench otherwise. Javier's other hand, though, moved around my chest like a gentle hurricane, squeezing, cupping flicking, pinching. "What do you need?" Javier asked. "I want to make you come." Good question. As much as I was enjoying it, I wasn't going to come just like that. That would have been okay, but since he mentioned it, I wondered the same thing. There was no way he could reach my clit: in that position I was basically sitting on it. Instead I found that if I moved my hips in tiny circles my clit would roll around against the lube-covered bench quite nicely. "Just keep doing what you're doing, and give me two minutes, lover!" I told him, turning my head enough to see him smile in the corner of my eye. We kept fucking just like that as the intensity grew. We were both moaning a lot. We heard a door open and men talking upstairs, but we didn't care. I was teetering on the edge of climax when Javier's hand moved from my breasts to my throat, holding me forcefully but not threateningly. He grunted loudly, so I figured he came. "Fuck yeah!" I enthused as my climax hit me, triggered by the thought of his come gushing into me, even though the condom prevented that from happening. My whole body shivered for just a moment, but my butthole squeezed his cock with all the strength it had in orgasmic pulses for many seconds. It made me wonder if dicks ever get bruised. Javier ran interference for me while I snuck upstairs to the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. After, he introduced me to his roommates. Nice guys.

Wednesday October 19 "Hey Lexi, can I see you for a second?" Desmond is the IT guy at work: he keeps our computers running, manages software licenses, administrates email - stuff like that. He's about thirty-two, I'd guess. His clothing choices are pretty shabby for my tastes, but honestly that's how most of the men here dress. "Sure, what's up?" I asked, stepping into his office. "I wanted to show you something," he explained, closing the door. Then he held up his phone and showed me a picture: of me, naked. Last winter I had briefly become obsessed with this section on Reddit where women post naked pictures of themselves, and I decided to give it a try. Martin took the pictures and did an awesome job. My face was hidden by ski goggles and my hair tucked under a ski hat in all of the shots, so I don't see how anyone could have identified me. "Okay, why are you showing this to me?" I asked. Nice open-ended question that neither confirmed nor denied any suspicions he might have. "Well, I wanted you to know that you had been found out," he said. It wasn't a friendly warning, I gathered. "Okay, now I know," I said matter-of-factly. "How did you find those, anyway?" "I was remotely viewing your desktop - for purely administrative reasons, you understand - and I saw your email to your friend Martin," He explained, proud of himself. "I found his Reddit user name and from there it was simple." I wondered whether Chris would approve of how Desmond was using his administrator rights. "Okay, well, thanks for the warning," I said headed to the door. I knew that Desmond had more cards to play, but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of asking. "Why don't we meet for a drink after work?" He rushed to suggest before I could open the door. "You know, to talk about how to prevent this secret from getting out." I turned back to face him. "And then what?" "What do you mean?" "Do you think that, once we're away from the office, I'll be so charmed by you that I'll overlook the fact that you're trying to blackmail me?" I asked accusingly. "Were you hoping you could leverage this into a blowjob? What's the plan?" I stared at him until he found a response. "I... I don't think you would want these photos..." I cut him off. "Look, dude: I would prefer to keep my private life separate from my work life. But I'm not going to be manipulated. If you treat me like a professional, I'll do the same to you and forget this conversation ever happened." Then I left. I went back to my desk and tried very hard to seem calm and unphased. Fifteen minutes later I went for a brisk walk around the building to work off some of my anger.

Thursday October 20 Some of the guys at work were staring at me this afternoon. I'm guessing Desmond told them about my pictures. I've been texting some more with Javier. We're going to see each other tomorrow night. Honestly, I'm not sure there's much between us, intellectually. The physical chemistry warrants another date, though. I've been messaging with some of the other guys from My Other Half, as well. It feels weird looking for possible relationships with several men at once. Juliet, of course, insists that I should bone them all. She also says I should get a Brazilian wax and ditch my glasses.

Friday October 21 Jack, one of the other programmers, made a crack about the pictures. "Hey Lexi," he said out of nowhere, "I'm thinking about going skiing this Christmas break. Got any skiing tips you could show me?" Anthony was grinning like an idiot next to Jack. Lars looked guilty. I ignored them. My second date with Javier began with bar food at a pool hall. It started off just him and me, but some of his friends showed up and it became a group thing. His friends are okay, but they're not really my kind of people. They talked about pretty much every sport known to man while we played pool, and sprinkled in bathroom humor liberally. Everyone else was drinking beer while I was stuck with iced tea. In other company I would have asked someone to sneak me a beer, but some of them were cops and I didn't want to put them in an awkward position. Despite being bored, I couldn't keep my hands out of Javier's hair. He had just gotten it cut - razor cut in a military style - and felt wonderfully fuzzy. He had a one inch scar on the side of his head under his hair that was kinda sexy. By the time we left the pool hall, I was pretty sure I didn't want a third date. But I did want a nice ending to this one, and he invited me to his house, so of course I said yes. We fooled around in his bedroom for a while - all the right parts of both of our bodies exposed and stiff. Then he made his proposal. "I've been dreaming something up since the last time," he told me. "It involves you being tied up and blindfolded. You seemed to be into that last time, so...?" "I'm game," I told him. So Javier led me, naked, handcuffed, and blindfolded, down the stairs, and then to my surprise, outside. The night air was pretty comfortable for now, but I wondered how long we were going to be out there. The cold would seep in eventually, unless we kept ourselves active, somehow. I hadn't seen his back yard before, but apparently there's a tree in it, because he backed me up into it and cuffed my arms to a branch above my head. I wondered how much privacy we had: Was there a fence? Could neighbors see us? I couldn't imagine that a rookie cop would risk too much scandal, so I wasn't worried. There was some kind of cloth on the tree - a towel maybe - so it didn't feel rough against my back. That's good, because he tied me pretty tightly to the the trunk of the tree with a bed sheet or something. All I know is that I had cloth from just below my breasts down to my hips holding me to the tree with my arms straight up. Javier sucked on my nipples - hard enough that I had to ask him to ease up. He also fingered my bush. "How many people are watching us right now?" I whispered with slightly exaggerated insecurity. "Don't worry about them," he said, "they'll stay quiet." By this time he was still sucking my nipples, but also rubbing my thigh. Javier dropped to his knees and began licking my pussy. He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder to give him room. I couldn't help but thrust my hips into his face. Then he stood up again. "Are you okay with the taste of your own pussy?" He asked. I nodded and he kissed me. His lips tasted like pussy. After that he stepped away, and I had the feeling he was getting ready to fuck me. "You're going to use a condom, right?" I asked demurely. "Yeah," he answered considerately. Then, Javier lifted one of my knees up and fed his meat to my pussy. Even though we were standing, his body was pressing against mine as hard as if he were on top of me. I was trapped between the tree and his hard chest, my arms unable to move, as he thrust into my cunt. It wasn't long before he was doing it hard. He lifted my other leg up, too - my knees were hooked over his arms and his hands were on my butt. If it weren't for the sheet tied around my middle, I would have been hanging from my hands, which probably would have hurt. As it was I was quite comfortably suspended without needing my legs. "Damn you're a fine piece of ass, Allie," Javier grunted over my moaning. "A body like that and willing to do stuff like this? No guy could want any more than that!" It seemed like I was obliged to say something back. "You're going to make me come," was all I could come up with. "Damn right I am!" He answered. Sure enough, a moment later it hit me. I moaned - not loud, but certainly not quietly. My pussy pulsed around his cock. A feeling of great satisfaction washed over me. Javier kept fucking me, which was just fine by me. I was quite confident that I would be coming more before he finished. I was getting close again - my moaning had intensified - when Javier unexpectedly dropped my legs and stepped away from me. "Why did you stop?" I asked, probably sounding disappointed and a little hurt. "Did you come? I didn't think you came." Javier didn't answer. Instead he lifted one of my legs again - higher this time. My ankle was in his hand, shoulder level, pushed back enough that my hips were tilted forward. His cock gave my asshole a cold slimy kiss - it was obviously coated with lube - and then wormed its way inside. Like hammering a nail, he pushed it in a little further with each thrust. Once he was deep enough, Javier lifted my other leg too. There I was, hanging from a tree, blindfolded, with my legs held high and wide by his hands, having a dick shoved violently into my rectum. It was fucking awesome! Within a minute I was panting and moaning, sure that I was going to come again any second, but I didn't. Javier kept fucking me, keeping me on the edge, seemingly forever. "I'm so glad you're into anal," Javier grunted at me, his breathing fast and hard. "It would be such a shame for an ass like this to go to waste." My response was just a needful whine. "This is it!" Javier announced coarsely. His hands tightened on my legs, which has already lost a lot of circulation, and I felt his dick twitching. His grip loosened and he stood still, groaning with satisfaction. My own excitement slowly abated, but we stayed like that for a little while longer. Javier pulled out and let my feet down, and he kissed me and groped one breast. He stepped away, and I figured he'd be untying me soon, but nothing seemed to happen. I couldn't hear breathing or footsteps or anything. "Javier?" I asked nervously. "Javier??" I asked again, starting to get worried. "Okay, joke's over - say something now," I insisted. "All right," he said with a chuckle. "I'm here," he said, and untied me. We relaxed for a few minutes on his couch after that. He drank beer but gave me a Diet Coke. I could feel the stupid hormones in my brain telling me to settle down and have babies with this guy, even as we struggled to find anything to talk about. A relationship isn't going to work out with Javier. But I enjoyed the journey to figure that out.

Saturday October 22 It's been just short of a week, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that I haven't run across Richard's profile yet. The site has shown me about three dozen potential matches so far. About half of those have written to me expressing interest. Javier is the only one I wrote back to so far. Today was mostly about early Christmas shopping. I thought about getting Becca a cross pendant like the one Mom gave me last Christmas, but her parents still hate me and might ask where it came from. Weird thing: As I was leaving a shopping center in the evening I saw Mandy walk into a gym. She had just posted a self-deprecating Facebook update about another Saturday night at home with a book minutes before, so I was suspicious. She wasn't wearing workout clothes or carrying a bag, either - just a small purse. The gym was a fairly unsophisticated place - none of the polish of the big national chains. I told the guy at the front desk that I needed to give a message to a friend and I would only be a minute. I wasn't dressed for the gym either, so I guess he bought it. I got there just in time to see Mandy go through a door with stairs beyond it. There was a guy outside the door who had the bearing of a bouncer. "Employees only," he said when I approached the door. "I just have to give my friend Mandy a message really quickly," I explained. "You'll have to wait," he said. "How long will that be?" I asked. The bouncer remained stone-faced. What the hell was down there? The guy at the front desk was looking at me so I had to leave. I waited outside for a half hour for Mandy to come out, but she didn't. I was hungry and there was probably a mundane explanation, so I bought a fast food salad and went home to read about cross-site scripting attacks.

Monday October 24 The guys at work were being dicks again. "Hey Lexi, have you made any interesting Reddit posts lately?" Jack said. "I bet you're quite the contributer." While he said it he struck a couple of poses that I had used in my naked Reddit photos. They were the kinds of poses that, under the right circumstances look sexy on a girl, but always look ridiculous on a boy. "Yeah, I bet guys just love to vote up her content," Anthony added. I rolled my eyes at them. "Grow up, guys." But then later in the morning I ran into Jackie in the break room while getting coffee. She was glowering at me. Jackie is the sort of person who always gives off the impression of being worn down - defeated. Certainly too worn down to put any effort into her appearance. "Hey Jackie," I said, trying to be friendly. "Everything okay?" She paused, I guess trying to decide if she should say anything. Then she looked me up and down once and made up her mind. "You're the reason women can't get ahead in tech," she mumbled. I couldn't believe what I had heard. "Just watch me," I finally said, defiantly. For sake of professionalism, I kept the "bitch" to myself. I'm pretty sure I didn't let it show, but I was really upset. I'm not ashamed of the pictures, or having posted them for the whole world to see, but there's a reason I hid my face, damn it! I'm brand new at this job, still trying to fit in and prove my worth, which I'm not even 100% sure of myself. Fine, look at the pictures - enjoy them, guys! But don't let it get in the way of doing our jobs! And Jackie... So what, like I'm responsible for every grievance, real or imagined, every woman has in the work place? I didn't sleep my way into a web-dev internship, you dumb twat! Maybe if you didn't hate your own femininity so much you could understand those of us who like ours. So yeah, Desmond has earned my attention - the kind he doesn't want. I sabotaged my computer's virus checker and then wrote to Desmond complaining that it was broken. Before he showed up to fix it, I plugged in my handy USB key logger to capture anything he typed. I knew that he would need to use his own administrator login to reinstall the virus checker, so I am now the proud owner of Desmond's work password. Hopefully tomorrow I'll get a chance to snoop around with it.

Thursday October 27 I finally got a chance to spy on Desmond today. He was off-site at some meeting, so I remoted in to his computer from one of the QA machines. Most of Desmond's computer is, as expected, regular work stuff. However, he has a Dropbox folder of cloud-synced personal stuff that I found quite interesting. First and foremost, there was a plain-text file listing all of his passwords. They were all different, and all strong, but that won't do him any good now. Secondly, he has a folder called "Coworkers". It contains downloaded copies of my nude pictures, some photos from company parties where people were drunk and stupid, and a number of video files from the office's security cameras. I downloaded those to review when I got home. Most of the videos were pretty boring: Lars dropping some food on the floor and then eating it, Linda bending over in a short skirt when she thought she was alone. But one of them shows two of my coworkers having sex in the office. The office was dark when it started, so they must have come in after hours. The QA girl, Laura, and one of the programmers, Dustin, walked up to what I assume was Laura's desk, and starting doing something on her computer. He had his hand on her back as they walked, so it's a good bet they already had a physical relationship. Neither of them sat, but Dustin started to get restless while Laura did whatever she was doing. "How long is this going to take?" He asked impatiently, but not disrespectfully. "Just give me a minute!" Laura mock-protested. "Give you a minute?" Dustin replied. Then, holding her hips and grinding his crotch against her butt, he said, "I'll give you a minute and a half - best minute and a half of your life!" Laura smiled by didn't say anything. Realizing he had found something to do, Dustin peeled Laura's skirt up and fondled her ass. They were both dressed moderately nicely, but Laura's panties were plain, so either they weren't planning on having sex that night or they were past the point of needing to dress up for each other. After a minute of that, Laura still typing and clicking, Dustin pulled her panties down and began rubbing between her legs. "This isn't going to make me go any faster, you know," Laura teased. "Yeah, but it's going to make the wait much more enjoyable," Dustin replied. Before long, Dustin had taken off his pants and was sliding his boner around between Laura's thighs. The rate at which she was working clearly slowed down, but she was at least making a show of staying focused. Still, she let out a soft murmur. Then Dustin went for it. Laura was only somewhat bent forward but Dustin found an angle to stick his cock in her pussy. For the first couple thrusts Laura pretended to keep working, but after she was just leaning against the desk, eyes closed, letting out soft moans. Dustin banged her like that for a minute or two. His face tightened and it was clear that he was approaching his limit. "Are you close to coming?" He asked. "I want you to come." "If you want me to come in a place like this, you're going to have to get me drunk first," Laura replied. I would have thought that meant he should go ahead and finish himself, but Dustin took her at her word. "Don't move," he said and disappeared off-camera, half-naked with a wet hard-on. Laura went back to typing at her computer, still standing. Dustin returned with a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a plastic cup. He held Laura in a loose embrace while she accepted the cup and took some ambitious swallows. They kissed amid more sips and a refill. Her hand was working the shaft of his dick lightly. "I really do need to get this finished tonight, you know," Laura said. "Don't let me stop you," Dustin told her. She went back to her usual pose, sanding in front of the computer, slightly bent forward, typing and maneuvering her mouse. Dustin stood behind her, wrapping his arms in front experimenting with various ways to touch her without interfering with her hands. Laura took a few more drinks from the plastic cup. "Are you feeling it yet?" Dustin asked her devilishly. "I'm feeling something," she answered. "I'm almost done here." Dustin took that as his cue: once again, he slipped his cock inside of her and started thrusting. Right away, this time, Laura leaned on her hands on the desk. Her moans were louder and more enthusiastic, and Dustin responded with increased zeal. Laura tried to reach a hand between her legs, but for some reason - maybe balance, maybe comfort - she wasn't getting what she wanted. Instead, she inched closer to the desk and lifted one of her legs to rest on it. That left plenty of room for her fingers to rub circles on her clit. She gasped at the new heightened stimulation. Dustin found this quite agreeable: with one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, he was giving it to her hard, pulling her into every thrust. Laura looked surprised for a moment, and then squealed as she came. For a few seconds her hips gyrated to their own rhythm. Her shoulders tensed up and she panted. Then, her body relaxed. She moved the hand from her pussy to her nose, briefly, before returning it to the desk to support her. Laura kept moaning - not quite so enthusiastically - while her lover pumped her. "I'm gonna do it," Dustin proclaimed. "It's gonna happen. Get ready!" "Just shut up and come already!" Laura teased. Dustin gritted his teeth and then grunted repeatedly as he climaxed and filled Laura's pussy with come. His thrusting slowed and then he pulled out. He moved as if to kiss Laura, but she blocked him. "Go get some paper towels and Windex," she instructed him. "Why?" He asked, rubbing her back casually. "Because you just made me spray all over my keyboard, and any second now your come is going to be dripping onto the carpet." Dustin dashed off-camera and the video ended.

So, I didn't exactly find anything incriminating on Desmond so far, other than unethical use of security resources. I could probably get him fired for that, but that's not really what I'm after - I want to humiliate him, not destroy him. But since I now have all his passwords, I can keep digging from the comfort of home. I'll still need to be careful, though - as an IT guy, he's more likely than most to have alerts set up and use two-factor authentication.

Saturday October 29 I couldn't find anything directly incriminating on Desmond from his email and social media, but he is up to something fishy. It looks like he's selling very large encrypted files to people for Bitcoins. In each case, the file is custom-encrypted just for the recipient. I had learned from Desmond's email that he would be out of town for a friend's Halloween party this weekend, and I knew he lived alone, so I figured maybe I'd take a peek at his townhouse tonight. First, though, I wanted to know if Mandy would be returning to her mysterious gym basement. She did - or at least she went to the gym. I hid one of those cat collar GPS trackers on her car. She was there for an hour and fifteen minutes. Like last time, she made a post about staying home right before she left. After my last job for Oliver he had given me a lovely trench coat to welcome me to the world of professional undercover work. As a matter of style, I would loved to have performed my breaking and entering tonight wearing it, but the weather is still too mild for a coat like that to be appropriate. I was worried that I would stand out. Instead I went with the traditional jeans and hoodie. No cameras, no security system, no pets, and a secluded front door - what more could a girl want on a Saturday night? Desmond's computer was a pretty serious piece of gear, and he had many terabytes of network storage. There was a Fleshlight and a bottle of lube sitting on the desk right next to his monitor. I didn't smell any stale semen near it, so I assume it had been cleaned since the last time it was used. I guess that means that next to the computer is where it is normally kept. Presumably he doesn't have visitors very often. While he did have two terabytes porn - which seems like a lot to me - the bulk of his hard drives were dedicated to high quality bootleg movies, some of which hadn't been released in theaters yet. He was running a script to encrypt and upload the videos for his customers. I had planned to insert a back door on Desmond's computer so I could access it remotely, but I decided not to: If the feds ever come to bust him for his pirate operation, I don't want any traces that I was ever here. The thought of turning him over to the feds was appealing, but really he hadn't offended me that badly. I snapped a picture of the Fleshlight just in case, but continued to look around for something to embarrass him. Livingroom: There's a depression in one spot on his couch. I guess he watches a lot of TV. Kitchen: Lots of frozen and canned food, much of it past its expiration date. Bathroom: There were some feminine lotions and a mostly-empty box of tampons in a back corner of a cabinet, so I guess he had a girlfriend once. In the medicine cabinet he had pills for anxiety and erectile dysfunction. Those had been filled recently and both had plenty of refills still available. I left and took a long drive home, all the while trying to think of how best to humiliate him with his erectile dysfunction medication. Look, I'm totally sympathetic to guys who have trouble getting it up - medical problems suck. I would never make fun of someone I liked for something like that. My friend Martin has had some similar trouble, and I don't think any less of him. (He says it's better since he changed medications, by the way.) But Desmond is a dick; he has it coming. When I got home I took a bath and masturbated, wondering whether a Fleshlight feels anything like a vagina and getting myself off on the thrill of violating Desmond's home.

Sunday October 30 I talked to Oliver about Mandy's Saturday night deceptions. He said that clients sometimes do lie to us, and that sometimes it's valuable to dig deeper. He pointed out, though, that you typically can't charge the client for it. Mandy's case is being handled by the law firm pro bono, so billing isn't an issue. He's got someone he can ask about what goes on at that gym. I talked to my dad today. He's trying to get Mom and me to join him for Thanksgiving. He said that, despite being hurt that I had turned my back on him, he's proud of me for making it on my own. Mom and Dad have both been seeing other people. I guess "seeing" means "fucking" in this case. They agreed to it. But I guess they're not sure they want the marriage to end. Having the whole family together would help them figure out what they want, I guess. Dad asked about work. I didn't mention the harassment over the nude photos, mostly because they were a big part of what caused the rift in my family in the first place.

Monday October 31 Halloween. About half of my coworkers came to the office in costume - some elaborate, some low-effort. I didn't. When Anthony saw that I had no costume, he said that he had some ski goggles and a cap if I wanted to change into them. He was obviously implying that I wear only goggles and a hat, like in my pics. I ignored him.

Digging around in Desmond's social media, I had learned the name of his ex. Tonight I gave her a call, and recorded it. "Is this Nishka?" I began. "Hi, my name is Ashley Bishop from Simmons-Swift - we're a medical research firm. Desmond Ingram has been submitted for one of our research trials and I'm vetting him to make sure he matches the study's parameters. He authorized you to answer some questions for us. Is now a good time to talk?" "I guess so," Nishka answered. "Thank you," I went on. "Is it true that you and Mr. Ingram were involved in a sexual relationship lasting more than thirty days?" "About three months, yeah," she told me. "And would you say that, during that time, Mr. Ingram sometimes had difficulty getting or maintaining an erection? "Yes," she answered with some concern in her voice. "And what percentage of the time would you say he had erection difficulty?" "Like, 100?" Nishka answered. "What's this about?" "We're testing a new kind of erectile dysfunction drug," I lied. "If he's a good match, he will be allowed to participate." I tried getting back to the point: "How would you say Mr. Ingram's condition affected your sex life?" "Well, I mean, it was everything," Nishka explained. "At first he was too ashamed to even try anything, but I did some reading online, you know? I wanted to find ways to make it work. We tried stuffing sometimes. Do you know what that is? But he could never come like that, and usually he'd quit before I could get anywhere. Twice I got him to come - ejaculate - from oral even though he was totally soft, but most of the time I couldn't, and it was really hard work. That was all before he started taking Cialis." "Okay, and what effect did the Cialis have?" I pushed. "I had to really push him to talk to his doctor about it, but then it looked like the Cialis was helping," she went on. "At least, he could get an erection, but it usually went away pretty fast. But then we discovered that with a cock ring he could stay hard longer. And he could sometimes keep it up long enough to come that way - maybe once a week. I never managed to climax like that." "I see," I said. "And was that as good as it got?" I added, forgetting my clinical tone. It didn't matter - Nishka had obviously been holding back some pent-up feelings about the relationship for a while. "Well, no, not for him," Nishka told me. "Cialis, cock ring, and porn - that was the magical combination. With all three he could keep it up enough to come semi-regularly - like three times a week." "So you watched porn together?" I asked. "No," she said bitterly, "he watched porn while I did all the work to get him off. I mean, picture it: you're squatting on your boyfriend's cock, riding him cowgirl style, and he's literally holding up a tablet in front of you watching some younger, skinnier girl take it up the ass from a guy hung like a horse. It's like, 'Hi! Up here! Remember me? Do you think maybe we could do this together?'" "So you didn't feel like you were being satisfied, sexually?" I asked. "Not at all," Nishka said. "Whenever I suggested something different he would get all defensive and say this was the only way that worked. I couldn't make him understand: I didn't need his cock - I would have been fine with his fingers or his mouth." "It got to the point where I gave up trying," she continued. "I would just get him off, and then after he fell asleep, sneak to the bathroom to take care of myself with a vibrating dildo. When I could I did it with his come still inside of me - you know, to make it seem like he was involved - but sometimes I couldn't arrange that. One time he caught me and he yelled at me for making him feel bad about himself!" I could tell that she was done ranting. It was probably good for her. "Thank you for your time, and your frankness," I said. "One last question," I added. "On a scale from one to ten, how much did Mr. Ingram's inability to satisfy you sexually contribute to your breakup?" "Nine," she said without hesitation. I edited the conversation down to a more manageable length, and took out the parts that made my duplicity obvious. The file is on my phone just waiting for me to pull the trigger.

Tuesday November 1 It was torture, today, waiting for the right time to reveal my dirt on Desmond. Finally in the early afternoon, I got it - all of my desired audience members were taking a break, talking, and nobody who might bust me was around. "Hey guys," I began, invading their conversation, "Question: How big of a deal would it be for you if you couldn't get it up?" "You mean like just once, or all the time?" Lars asked. "All the time," I replied. "It would be a real big problem for about twenty-five minutes," Anthony answered. I looked at him curiously. "That's about how long it would take to drive to Walmart, buy a shotgun, and blow my head off in the parking log," he clarified. "I totally disagree," Jack said. "I would throw myself from an overpass onto traffic." "You guys would really rather die than be impotent?" I asked with false naivete. They muttered affirmations. "But wouldn't you at least try to get help? Lean on your friends?" I went on. "Oh, that's totally different," Anthony said. "If my friends knew, I'd kill them before killing myself." Everybody laughed. "Why are you asking this?" "Well, a friend of mine was telling me about her ex last night," I said, baiting the trap. "I was just trying to imagine it from his point of view." "What did she say?" Lars asked. "Let me show you," I said. Then I played the recording on my phone. Jack was outright laughing. Anthony smirked. Lars looked uncomfortable. About two-thirds of the way through, Desmond came in - I guess Anthony sent him a message. Jack greeted Desmond with a finger gesture that I gather was supposed to represent a limp penis. It took Desmond a couple seconds to realize that the recording was his ex-girlfriend talking about his sexual difficulties, but when he did he was instantly enraged. He tried lunging for my phone but I kept it out of reach. Then he looked like he was going to try to grab my arm, but Lars stood in the way. "Hey Desmond! How's it hanging?" Jack said once the recording finished. "That... She...," Desmond stammered. Then he found the lie behind which he would make a stand. "Guys, nobody could keep it up around that girl. She's like the un-sexiest being in all of creation. She's ugly, and her pussy reeks, and she had no sex drive at all. Whatever she said, she was just trying to cover for being dumped." "Didn't you two basically live together for a couple months?" I asked innocently. "No! I took pity on her," he said. "This is what I get for being a nice guy!" "Yeah, you're a real softy!" Jack quipped. All the guys laughed. I giggled too. "I don't have to put up with this from you assholes!" Desmond said, and left the room. I briefly wondered, as I went back to my desk, how I would feel if Desmond killed himself because of this. I'm not really worried: I don't think that's in his nature.

Oliver called me in the late afternoon. "This is awkward," he began. "I have it on good authority that they run a glory hole in the basement of that gym. Do you know what that is?" "A hole in the wall where a guy sticks his dick, and then a stranger on the other side sucks it? Really?" I said. "Yeah," Oliver confirmed. I could almost hear him blushing through the phone. "So either Mandy is trans with boy parts - which destroys the whole premise of our case," I said, thinking it through, "or she goes there to perform sex acts that ruin her credibility." "Or maybe something else that we haven't thought of," Oliver said. "Huh. So what do we do?" I asked. "You're running the investigation. What do you think?" Oliver replied. "Well, I'd like some proof before confronting her about it," I said. "How do I get in there?" "You don't," Oliver said with a hint of disappointment. "Believe it or not, they've got more volunteers on the girls' side than they know what to do with." "Really?" I asked, almost missing the fact that Oliver had apparently already thought of sending me in as an undercover come-dumpster. "He says some women are really turned on by the whole thing," he explained. "But it's just blowjobs?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around it. "Just blowjobs, and always anonymous," Oliver confirmed. "Hmm. Well, I guess you'll just have to go take one for the team," I said hopefully. "Lexi, I'm a married man," Oliver said. "I've got a grandson. I can't live that kind of life any more." "Okay," I said, disappointed. "But I bet you've got some great stories from the old days," I teased. "One of these days we'll get drinks together and maybe I'll tell you," he said in consolation. "Okay, then...," I figured, "If I get someone else - a guy - can you get him in the door? Some kind of guest pass?" "Yes, I can swing that," Oliver said. "Let me know." I spent the next hour on the phone with Martin trying to convince him to come to town to get a blowjob from a pretty girl he won't be allowed to look at.

Wednesday November 2 Desmond wasn't at work today. I'm slightly less confident in my assessment that he wouldn't kill himself. I've been browsing through the other security camera videos - the ones from his house - and I found another sex tape. It's Chris, the boss, and a woman who I think is named Jennifer. She's some sort of accountant I think. They're in costumes and the timestamp says the recording was made a year ago, so I'm guessing this happened after a company Halloween party. Chris is about thirty, tall, moderately good looking but with a stupid haircut. His face reminds me a little of my ex, Paris. He was wearing a soccer uniform of some sort - I don't know if it's modeled after some real team. Jennifer was wearing a Bavarian beer wench costume - not super slutty, but it sure shows off her cleavage. Big boobs. She's a little older than him - probably thirty-six. Her hair is blond and braided, but she's got dark roots. The video starts with Jennifer on the phone and Chris waiting and pouring himself some Jack Daniels into a plastic cup. Honestly, where is all this office booze kept? "The sitter will stay for an extra hour," she said when she finished with her phone call. "So, now?" Chris asked. "Now," Jennifer replied and kissed him savagely. There was a definite air of we finally get to just be us in the way they made out. Little by little Chris was gently tugging at her blouse while they kissed, until all at once he moved back and pulled down on the front, releasing her big soft breasts. The laced part of her dress was still plenty tight, so even when free, her breasts were lifted and pressed together. Chris looked like a kid in a candy store. His hands were upon them right away, squeezing and kneading. Jennifer giggled and cooed while Chris indulged his boyish fascination. Surprisingly, he only used his hands. I thought guys always wanted to suck on breasts. Maybe it's a size thing? There was no mistaking how stiff her nipples became, and her face became quite flush. Soon Jennifer was pulling Chris' shorts down and lightly jerking him off while he remained fixated on her breasts. Soon after that she dropped to her knees and sucked his cock into her mouth. "Get it nice and wet," Chris told her. "I know how to give a blowjob," she replied with a chuckle. "No, I've got something else in mind," he replied. For a while, Jennifer's jaw and throat churned and writhed while she massaged his cock with all of the parts of her mouth. She looked like she knew what she was doing - I'm certain she could have kept at it much longer, but for some reason, Chris was eager to move on. Guiding Jennifer onto her back on the floor, Chris knelt over her and laid his erection on her chest between her boobs. She picked up on the plan and squeezed them together with her hands, making a nice cozy canyon of flesh for him. Chris spit, and then he began to fuck her cleavage. "So I take it you're a tits man, then?" Jennifer teased. "When they're tits like yours? Oh yeah," Chris said, thrusting slowly. Her breasts quaked with his motion, and his cock-head just barely came out of hiding at the end of each stroke. "I've wanted to do this to you for years," he added. "If you come on my face, I'm setting fire to your office," Jennifer warned. I can't imagine that what they were doing actually feels better than a mouth, pussy, or ass, right? So it must be about the visuals or the idea of the act. I would have assumed that Chris would get bored of the titty-fuck quickly and want to get to the main event, but he just kept going, every so often adding a new wad of spit. After a number of minutes - longer than I would have tolerated even if I had the necessary cup size - Jennifer nudged him. "C'mon, get up," she said. "Momma needs her sugar, too." Jennifer stood up and began the tiring process of taking off her dress. Once free of it, she kicked off her panties, too. "Keep the stockings," Chris said, watching her. "They're kinda hot." When she was done with her own clothes, Jennifer pulled Chris' jersey over his head, and finished removing his shorts and underwear. She looked a little like a frustrated parent - as if she were thinking, Honestly, I shouldn't need to show you how at your age. After another quick round of kissing and touching, Chris was on his back, and Jennifer lowered herself down onto his pole, facing his feet. Pretty standard reverse-cowgirl, I thought, but then she lifted one of his knees up and turned somewhat, so that his thigh was upright between her legs. She moved her body up and down on his shaft, using his knee for support. I imagine she was getting a pretty nice rub against her clit with his leg, too. "God your tits are amazing," Chris remarked while Jennifer rode his cock. For the most part her back was to him, so I don't see how he could be looking at her breasts. Personally, I was intrigued by the wing tattoo all the way across her upper back. "Are you still thinking about fucking my tits?" Jennifer questioned with a touch of indignation. "Yeah," Chris confessed. "Honestly!" Jennifer said. But she also smiled with pride. They both looked like they were getting a pretty good fuck on. I wondered what it would be like to have big breasts like Jennifer. Would they make sex more fun? Do they feel better when there's more there for a guy to squeeze? Would the extra bounce and jiggle turn on my partners more when they thrust into me? On the other hand, would I not be able to enjoy face-down sex as much? Maybe I'll ask Martin to photoshop me with big boobs. I bet he'd blow his wad at the mere thought of it. Jennifer's body was not what you'd expect in a porn video. She's not young, and she's a little bit chubby. Her breasts have resisted aging remarkably well, but her bush looked like every time she had tried to shave in the last year, she was interrupted by a phone call half way through. There's a scar on her belly that I assume is from a C-section. But somehow, it all comes together into someone really sexy. I don't know what it is - some mysterious quality of maturity, maybe. I hope when I'm her age, I look as good as she does riding some guy's cock. "You gonna come?" Chris asked. "Soon," Jennifer answered. Chris closed his eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn't hear any words. Jennifer was putting more effort into griding on his thigh then a proper up-and-down, but there was still plenty of hip action to move his dick against her insides. Jennifer didn't make any sound as she approached her climax, but she reached behind her and put a hand on Chris' chest. Her mouth hung open, panting. The hand on Chris' chest became an eagle claw tearing into his skin. She leaned forward into his knee and wrapped both arms around it while her hips bucked in short, quick, involuntary thrusts - twenty or thirty of them. Then she went back to bouncing with steady strokes, up and down. "You can come now," she said in a tired voice. I just did," he answered. As if to verify his claim, Jennifer reached between her legs and then brought a sample of his cream to her mouth. Finally she slowed and they climbed apart. "Isn't there any way you can spend the night with me?" Chris asked while they were cleaning up and getting dressed. He seemed so vulnerable. "No," she told him gently. "But thanks for a lovely night off from motherhood."

Thursday November 3 Martin is coming in to town this weekend to get his dick sucked and hopefully solve the mystery of Mandy's secret outings. I'm looking forward to visiting with him. I'm hoping that the glory hole experience will relieve the awkwardness between us. "Yeah, but what if it's a bad experience?" Juliet challenged me when I mentioned it to her. "What if he can't get in, or if only guys are sucking dick that day? What if it's someone who bites? You've promised this kid a blowjob. You might have to do it yourself." "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I told her. Juliet had warned me not to sleep with Martin a year ago, saying that he would get clingy and weird. She was partly right. But she's always had this snobby attitude toward him, without even meeting him. I don't like that about her.

For the most part, all of the guys I've talked to on the dating site have reached out to me. I guess that's the normal male-female dynamic. But there's one guy that the site recommended who really caught my eye. Here's the About Me section of his profile: Zombie survivor seeks paramour Wanted: female romantic companion for the upcoming zombie apocalypse. Must enjoy indoor activities such as reading, movies, video games, board games, and conversation. (Occasional salvaging runs / picnics possible once the hoards die down.) Frequent quiet, candle-lit evenings can be expected. The ideal candidate will be able to maintain her sense of humor and take decisive action in the face of unexpected or "impossible" circumstances. She should be able to solve unorthodox problems creatively, with limited resources. Marksmanship, medical training, good communication skills, and an eagerness to learn by doing are all pluses. Recommended attire includes practical shoes and non-restrictive garments. When applying, please describe any previous zombie-related experience. Those with unhealed bite marks need not apply. The guy isn't great looking, but I'm tickled by his creativity. I sent him a photo of my paper target from a time at the shooting range when I was really in the zone. I wrote, "How do you like my spread? Am I tight enough? Does this earn me the right to come see your bunker?" Juliet doesn't approve of me flirting with this guy, either.

Friday November 4 Desmond was back at work yesterday and today. He didn't say anything. I'm guessing that he's going to leave me alone from now on.

Saturday November 5 Martin came to town mid-day. I jokingly asked him to photoshop me with big breasts and he liked the idea, so then we spent the next couple hours doing photo shoots and image manipulation. He vetoed many of the tops I chose: I kept picking ones with difficult shapes or patterns to digitally stretch. There was a little bit of tension when Juliet came home and I introduced them. "Oh, so this is the b...," Juliet began. She was going to say bedwetter. I don't know why she calls him that. She had the look of a cat playing with a mouse. "This is my friend, Martin, to whom you are going to be nice," I said, shooting her a warning look. She decided to be cool after that. I explained what we had been doing all day, and showed her the best picture we had made: Me in a white blouse and suede skirt, with my glasses and short black haircut, and pearl stud earrings. He probably gave me a DD chest. "I've got to hand it to you, Martin, you've got talent," Juliet said. "You managed to make her look even more like a slutty librarian." The three of us were out at a late lunch when Juliet launched her next attack. I was expecting it - the whole time she'd been with us I could see her watching, gauging the situation. "So Martin," Juliet began, "after Lexi let you fuck her, how many people did you tell about it?" Martin was silent at first, not sure what Juliet was up to. "Like, five, six?" She pressed "About that," Martin mumbled. "And how many people did you tell about the blissful time you had together, Lexi?" She asked. "Just me, wasn't it?" I was irritated, but I played along for the moment. "You and Becca Rivers - but that was an accident," I said. "How did people react when you told them, Martin? Did you get a lot of high fives?" Juliet pressed. Martin didn't reply. "How about you, Lexi? What did Becca say?" "Not much," I replied coldly. "We were too busy talking about the people whose lives I've destroyed because they pissed me off." Juliet picked up on my threat and backed down.

In the early evening, right after Mandy's weekly post about staying at home, I stood vigil in the parking lot while Martin went in to the gym to investigate the glory hole. Oliver had put his name on the list or whatever and told him the rules. The plan was to have his phone's voice recorder app running and try to get his host to talk enough to recognize her voice. Martin came out forty-five minutes later. "Did it go okay?" I asked, nervous that I couldn't read his face. "That was the greatest thing to happen to my dick, ever," Martin proclaimed as he got in my car. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Not that you...," he stammered, trying to spare my feelings. "I mean, with you it was different. I...," he drifted off. "I'm just playing with you," I said and gave his shoulder a little shove. "It's totally cool." Martin was eager to tell me the story, so we got some Frappuccinos and sat in my car. The worst part was waiting, in a little room, with three other guys who were obviously there for the same reason. It wasn't seedy, really - it was like a low budget dentist's office. Anyway, when it was my turn, I went in and undressed. The hole wasn't round like I'd expected: it was rectangular and tall, I guess to accommodate guys of different heights. It was dark on the other side. Maybe that's so I wouldn't be tempted to peek at the girl. Anyway, I was nervous, but I stepped up and put my thing through the hole. Then I heard her speak for the first time. She said, "You seem shy. Is this your first time here?" I wasn't very hard yet. And then she started touching me - all over my dick and balls. I don't know how to describe it - she wasn't jerking me. There was something so... loving about how she was touching me. But it was totally getting me turned on - you know, erect. She said, "Don't worry - I'll make sure you're comfortable, mmm?" She kept doing that - ending sentences with "mmm" and turning them into questions. Then she kept talking, telling me how much she liked my cock - that she couldn't believe how hard it was. And somewhere in there her caresses became a serious hand job. And there was wetness. I don't know if she used saliva or some kind of lotion, but it was definitely wet. Then she asked me my name, and then asked if I was ready for her to suck my cock. I said yes please. Then she said, "Oh, you're polite! That's a real turn-on for me, mmm?" And then she put her mouth on it and it just felt so perfect. Martin squirmed in the seat of my car. Telling the story was making him grow hard all over again, it seemed. I couldn't see what was happening, of course, but it felt like she must have a cow-sized tongue. It felt like it was everywhere. And the suction, and the noises she was making. It was incredible. She stopped at just the right time. If she had gone one second longer before stopping, I would have died of frustration. But she stopped, and then she said, "I have to show you something, mmm?" And then I heard her shifting around, and there was bumping on my cock. And then I felt skin all around my cock. She said, "Do you feel that? I shouldn't be doing this, but I just needed you to feel how wet you've made me." I think she had her thighs wrapped around my dick, and her pussy rubbing against it. She said, "God, I'm aching for it. I want so badly to shove my cunny onto your dick, make you come into me and make me pregnant!" But then she moved. She said, "But I can't. I'll just have to settle for tasting my pussy on your cock. That might just make me come on the spot, mmm?" And then she went back to sucking, but with a lot of back and forth - you know, strokes, but with her mouth. And she started moaning while she was doing me. My own body, I realized, was reacting to Martin's story. My cunt was in a full state of readiness - hunger, even. I know it must have been an act, but it really seemed like she was getting ready to come! I mean, I could just picture her on her knees with my dick in her mouth, and her hands rubbing her pussy. I really wanted to believe it, anyway. And she got me so worked up. I was like a bomb ticking down. And then she came, or seemed to, and I couldn't hold it any more. I exploded and filled her mouth with semen. But she didn't swallow at first - I could feel it pooling around my dick even as she kept sucking me, and even as I spurted more. I don't know how she didn't drown. I told her how amazing she was, and she told me how much she enjoyed coming with me. She says she hopes I'll come back.

Sunday November 6 When we got back to the apartment last night, Juliet was cooking dinner for the three of us, so I wrote my journal entry and an email to Oliver about what Martin had learned. I don't care if she's a slut, but the lying bugs me. Plus, my understanding is that it is possible - though very unlikely - to become pregnant from rubbing a dick around outside of a pussy like she did. Maybe that's just Catholic school propaganda, I don't know. But if so, does that ruin our whole case? Juliet was impressed that Martin had gone through with his task, and she was reasonably nice to him for the rest of the night. We watched TV together, but the whole time I couldn't avoid thinking about how much Martin's story turned me on. It got worse the more I drank. I didn't want to fuck Martin, but I was horny. Somehow, the fantasy of Martin fucking Juliet took root in my mind, and kept blossoming all night. It would never happen in a million years, but I couldn't stop thinking about watching those two. The suggestion was right there on the tip of my tongue for hours. When we decided it was time for bed, Juliet and I went into our own rooms and Martin stayed on the couch. I kept myself at the edge of climax for thirty minutes, thinking about him on top of her on the livingroom floor, shaking her body with his thrusts, while she looked at me with dazed bliss. I came so hard I ached. I hope neither of them heard the buzzing. Before he left, Martin made me promise to let him know what happens when I confront Mandy.

Monday November 7 Chris asked me if there was anything I wanted to talk about at work today. I'm guessing he has heard about my fight with Desmond. I said no, everything's great.

Oliver arranged for Mandy and me to meet him at his office this afternoon. I've never seen anyone die from fright, but it looked like Mandy was about to when we confronted her. "Oh god! No, no, no... this can't be happening. Please! I promise to be good. Just forget you ever met me, mmm? I'll just leave and move to a new city." She stood up and glanced at the meeting room door nervously. "Mandy, please stay," Oliver said compassionately. "We're not judging you, and we won't tell anyone without your permission. But we need to re-examine some of the assumptions about our case." Mandy sat down, crying. "I'm actually kinda jealous," I said. It was a pretty big exaggeration - curious would be a better word - but I hoped it would put her at ease. She looked at me with surprise but didn't say anything. Oliver nodded to me, wanting me to do the questioning. "How long have you been doing glory hole activities?" I asked. "About a year," Mandy said timidly. "So before your date with Richard?" I asked. "Mmm-hmm," she said, sniffling. "It was my therapist who suggested My Other Half. She said it would be good for me to engage in more traditional sorts of relationships." "Do you ever receive money or gifts in exchange for these blowjobs?" I asked. "No, of course not!" Mandy denied. "I just... like that men appreciate me, mmm?" "Okay. So, around the time of your date with Richard, other guys did come in your mouth, right?" I asked. She nodded. "But not anywhere else? Not your vagina or your ass?" She nodded again. "When I interviewed you, you said that you hadn't had sex 'of any kind' prior to Richard," I stated, checking my notes. "You said it had been a year since you had been 'intimate' with anyone." "Mmm-hmm," she said, seemingly oblivious to the contradiction. "But you were giving blowjobs," I reiterated. "Mmm-hmm," she said again. "I... Do you not consider blowjobs to be a kind of sex?" I asked, perplexed. "No," she said innocently. I couldn't tell if she really believed it. Oliver chimed in by saying, "The Bill Clinton defense." I looked at him for clarification, but he waved it off as unimportant. I moved on. "The man we sent to see you at the gym said that you rubbed your pussy directly on his dick," I stated. "Is that true?" "Yes," Mandy said meekly. "Do you do that often?" I asked. "No," she said. "I liked him. He was polite." "Had you done that to any guys in the two months before your date with Richard?" I asked. "Maybe?" "So there's a chance that a guy's pre-come might have touched your pussy - inside your lips - before your date?" "Maybe, but not inside! Not in my vagina!" "I don't know where to go from here," I said to Oliver. "If we try to sue the guy, won't the enemy lawyers use this to discredit everything Mandy says?" "Please don't tell anyone! Please? Let's just keep it between us!" Mandy begged. Oliver spoke carefully. "I'll have to run it by the lawyers, but Mandy, Lexi is right - if we sue with you as the plaintiff, your glory hole activities will definitely become part of the public record." Mandy's face filled with panic again, but Oliver held up a hand to delay. "When this started, I talked to some people at My Other Half," Oliver explained. "Off the record, a customer service agent confided that they've been getting a lot of complaints about stealthing. It is definitely happening. Maybe we can drop Mandy from the case and go forward as a class action suit, or a public health case. I think the company will cooperate if we can give them a legal excuse to turn over their records. With a little luck, that will lead us to other women that Richard has mistreated."

Tuesday November 8 When I was heading to my desk this morning at work, Jack spoke to me. "You know, Lexi, I am really enjoying this feud you're having with Desmond. I walked over to his desk where he and Anthony were watching a video of me, with my dress pulled up to my waist, receiving oral for the second time in my life. The video was recorded by Ethan, a guy I fooled around with in high school. He thought he was recording us secretly, but I knew about the webcam and let it happen. The video was supposed to have been destroyed - a judge had ordered it - but the Internet always seems to find a way to soak up data. I was surprised and a little impressed that Desmond had managed to dig it up, though: last time I looked, I couldn't find anything tying the video to me. I'm sure Jack and Anthony expected me to freak out. I wouldn't give Desmond the satisfaction. "You guys might want to be careful," I said casually. "We were seventeen when that was recorded - technically you're watching child pornography." "If this is kiddie porn then put my name on the registry and call me a pedophile," Anthony said, just as I started coming in the video. I rolled my eyes and went to my desk to actually work.

I decided to call Nishka again to see if she had any more dirt on Desmond. If I can't find anything else, I'll just get the asshole fired, but I'd rather not go that far. "Niska? Hi, my name is Lexi Green," I told her when I reached her on the phone. "We spoke last week. I lied to you - told you I worked for a drug research company. Do you remember?" "Yeah..." she answered suspiciously. "The truth is, I work with your ex, Desmond," I explained, hoping she would be cool. She had seemed cool before. "He's been being a real misogynist jerk to me. I played a recording of my phone call with you to some of his friends at work to get even with him." "That's fucked up," Nishka said. So far she was keeping calm though. "Yeah, it is," I admitted. "I've been feeling guilty - not about what I did to him, but for taking advantage of you. I figured I owed you an apology. I'm sorry." "What did he do, exactly?" She asked. "He spied on my personal email - found out that I had posted nude photos of myself to the Internet," I explained. "It was supposed to be anonymous - my face was covered and everything - but he tracked them down. Then he started saying that he'd show them to everyone unless I went out with him. And when I refused, he did." "Desmond did that?" Nishka asked. "Yeah," I replied. "You want to go out for a drink?" She said, surprising me. "I think this discussion would go better with drinks." So then we met at a restaurant/bar. I wish I had gotten a fake ID like everyone else in college, but with just six months to go until I'm twenty-one, I guess there's no point. She drank a whiskey sour while I had iced tea. "So he showed your pictures to people at work...," she said, picking up the story where we'd left off. "Yes. And a couple guys my age were giggling morons about it, trying to tease me," I told her. She rolled her eyes in sympathy. "And there was one woman who said that I was the reason for gender inequality or some shit." "Ugly?" Nishka asked. "Not ugly - just chewed up and spit out by life," I said. Nishka nodded. She sighed. "Desmond is a sweet guy, but he can be...," she began. "No - I'm not going to apologize for him any more." "So you've seen this side of him before?" I asked. She rolled her eyes again. "Have I! Say, would you mind... could I see these pictures you're talking about?" "Sure," I said, and pulled them up on my phone. "What? These are gorgeous! And you're exactly his type! What is wrong with guys?!" She vented. Somewhere in there we got another round of drinks. "So what did he say when you played the recording?" Nishka asked devilishly. "He made excuses," I said. "Like what?" "Well, about you," I explained. "He said you were ugly with no sex drive and that no guy could get it up for you," I said dismissively. "That dick!" Nishka responded. "So did that put him in his place, or is he still causing trouble for you?" I rolled my eyes this time. "He found a sex tape that a high school boyfriend had made. So now half of my coworkers have seen me naked, climaxing and then catching a come-shot to the face." "I'm so sorry," she said. "I don't know why he's like that. I thought I could help him, but he's just beyond fixing." "That's okay," I said. "But hey - would it be cool if I took a selfie with you? I'd like to show the guys that Desmond lied when he said you were ugly. You're really pretty." Wickedness flashed in Nishka's eyes. "What if I can do you one better," she said. "What if you showed them a sex tape of my boyfriend pounding me and making me scream? A tape of me with a real man?" I smiled. "I think that would upset Desmond quite a bit. And I'm sure the guys would love it." "If I do this, you've got to promise that you'll just show it, once," she said. "You can't give the file to anyone or let them stream it by themselves. I'm trusting you - you know how easily these things can get out of control, right?" "I promise," I said. "I'm very good with computer security. No way Desmond or anyone else will catch me off-guard again." We agreed on a password with which she'll encrypt the video. Hopefully she's sending it to me right now.

Thursday November 10 Oliver says the investigation is still on.

Friday November 11 I've been messaging back and forth with Paul, the zombie survivor guy. He admitted that he doesn't know enough about guns to say whether my target shooting groupings were good. But he said that I seem like the sort of person he'd want in his bunker. We met today over lunch. He's super creative - always stringing together random thoughts into the strangest ideas. I'm not sure how much we've got in common though. He's into board games and HP Lovecraft and horror movies. There was one thing that caught my interest. Apparently he has a very high-end drone. He says he uses it for "people watching," but I couldn't get him to elaborate. Maybe he enjoys spying on people as much as I do. That could be a cornerstone for a relationship, right?

I watched Nishka's video tonight. And then again with my vibrator. I am so jealous of her right now. Nishka is of Indian descent. When I met her in the bar she had a sort of exotic glamor about her - sexy and a little bit mysterious. There was nothing glamorous about seeing her resting on her neck and shoulders on the floor next to the bed, with her ass in the air and her knees by her ears. That's how the video began. It wasn't glamorous, but it was sexy. "Is it recording? It is? Okay, good," Nishka said. "Today, Max and I are going to be trying the piledriver position," she said, looking into the camera. Max moved in front of the camera and ended up standing next to Nishka, stroking his cock in one hand and her lips with the other. Her pussy was already puffy and flush, so they had clearly warmed up somehow before this. Max sunk two fingers deep into her cunt and then withdrew, sucking on them with the most lustfully crazed look in his eyes I've ever seen. Then he took position over her, squatting, dick lined-up for the job, and he sunk his meat inside of her balls-deep. It was no small dick, either. "AaaAAAHH!" She squealed at her penetration. There was no doubt in my mind that it was real. She squealed more as he began to thump their asses together and drive his cock into her. I could see a bump moving up and down in her belly as the cock displaced her flesh. The black lacy knee-high stockings she was wearing did an excellent job of framing her body: her lean curling belly, her round breasts, and her happy but strained face. The video only showed Max from the waist down, but he clearly spends a lot of time working out: he was ripped. Good thing, too, because repeatedly squatting to dip into her vag like that must have taken a lot of effort. He had a deep tan, but no tan lines. "Is this working for you, babe?" Max asked, a minute or two in. "Fucking hell, is this working!" She replied. A minute later, Nishka was coming. She screamed through gritted teeth, and then moaned while the climax took over her body. I could actually see her pelvic muscles tightening, rewarding her intruder with loving squeezes. Nishka's moans softened but they never stopped. Max just kept fucking her, exactly the same. "You want me to fuck you like this every night?" Max asked playfully. "Every night! Every morning! Every afternoon!" She exclaimed. "I don't want to eat or sleep, I just want this - you fucking me every minute of every day!" "That's a lot of fucking," Max mused. I think I like Max. Nishka's arms weren't free to do much other than support her incredibly awkward position, but she managed to touch his ankle. With a less shouty, surprisingly tender voice, she said, "I know you're good for it." I think they were looking into each other's eyes while Max continued to jackhammer her pussy. Then he touched her thigh - a gentle caress. She let out a gasp something like a hiccup, and then her eyes rolled back and I watched the orgasm creep up and overtake her. Her toes curled and she clenched her teeth. I almost missed Max's hand moving to her clit. She was screaming and moaning for at least a minute before she relaxed. Max never let up on fingering Nishka's clit, and she never stopped moaning. He was moaning by this time too, but hell, he had nothing to prove. "You gonna finish like we talked about?" Nishka asked her lover. "Yeah," Max said, not quite so casually, "just need to get you off one more time." "I don't think I can take it!" She replied like someone whose trainer just promised they only needed to do one more set, for the third time. "You can take it," Max said. God, where can I get a Max? Max rested his hands on Nishka's thighs and leaned forward. Somehow it seemed like he was drilling her with more force now - certainly more determination. "I am so yours, forever!" Nishka cried. Anything else she meant to say was lost in her moans and his groans. She exploded into orgasm. Her legs twitched as if they were trying to find a way to participate. Max pulled out and barely got his hand on his dick before he started ejaculating. He aimed straight down, painting her chest and her face both with each powerful stroke of his come. After the spurts were done, still more of his fluids managed to drip on her. And then he just stood there, presumably looking down on his handiwork as he turned flaccid. I transfered the video to my phone. We'll see what happens when I show it to the guys at work. When Nishka got rid of Desmond, she sure traded up.

Saturday November 12 Martin surprised me by video-calling me on Skype this morning. Usually he and I talk by email or SMS. "Lexi, I have to meet her," he said desperately. "What? Who?" I answered. "The girl from the gym - um, Mandy," he clarified. I sighed. "Martin, I don't think you realize how creepy that would be to her." "Lexi, there was something between us - really," he explained. "I mean, I think she felt it too. I don't know - maybe you're right and she'll think I'm a total freak, but... I promise not to stalk her. Lexi, she could be the one for me, and if I don't try to make a connection, I'll be wondering what I missed my whole life. Please!" I thought it over while looking at Martin's pleading eyes - which I guess is why he wanted a video call. "Okay, I'll tell you what: write her a letter - just a couple paragraphs - and give me a picture of you. If I don't think it's too creepy, I'll bring up the idea with her. If she seems receptive, then I'll give it to her; but if not, you leave her alone forever. Okay?" "Deal! Thanks, Lexi - I owe you."

Paul and I made plans for tonight: an early dinner and then driving to a camp site an hour away to play with his drone.. Dinner was nothing special; we didn't click all that much. And all I could get to admit to on spying was having peeked at some skinny-dippers once. Once we were at the camp site, we sat in the back seat of his large SUV, watching the drone's camera on the SUV's screen. He showed me some nice wilderness shots, and a pretty cool sunset over the tops of the trees, but I was mostly interested in what the campers - kids my age, probably from the university - were doing. It's November - there was no skinny-dipping. Even the people gathered around the camp fire had plenty of clothes on. We got some audio, but it wasn't clear enough to make out any words. Nobody seemed to noticed the drone at all. A girl and a guy left the camp fire together. She had been leaning on him and touching him a lot for the previous few minutes, so I had a strong suspicion about what was on her mind. "Those two are totally going to fuck. Follow them," I proclaimed. The two suspected lovers entered a tent together, and then there was nothing to see. "You said you've got infrared on this thing, right? Can we see through the tent?" "Sometimes," Paul said, and threw a switch. Two orange and red silhouettes appeared where the tent had been. The smaller one was kneeling and moving like she was taking off her shirt. The larger one was sitting, and leaned in toward the girl's chest after the shirt maneuver. "Think she's wearing a bra?" Paul asked. For the most part we could only see general shapes, but we could tell the difference between core body colors and limbs. Paul's question was answered a few seconds later when the guy's arm went in front of the girl, and she shrugged as if to remove shoulder straps. Then came the panty-peeling. After that she pushed him down, flat on his back, and knelt near his middle. Unless I miss my guess, the next motion of the heat blog was the guy taking off his pants. The guy was lying flat. The girl was kneeling and swaying slightly. "Handjob?" I guessed. "I think so," Paul agreed. It didn't take long for before the girl mounted the guy and started bobbing up and down on him, leaning her arms on his chest. Even though all we could see were a couple vaguely human-shaped blobs, the fact that we were spying on real people making love without their knowledge started to turn me on. Honestly, I wanted to unbutton my jeans and play with myself, ignoring Paul, but that seemed kind of rude. I had no interest in fucking him, but I wanted a little stimulation while I watched the show. "Be honest - if I weren't here with you, you'd be jacking off right now, right?" I asked. He didn't need his hands any more to control the drone - I think he had parked it in a tree. "Well... I wouldn't...," he stammered. I gave him a get-real look and he finally admitted, "Yeah." I put my hand on Paul's crotch and started rubbing his junk. He accepted it but didn't say or do anything else. The girl on camera raised her arms above her head and giggled a little while riding the guy at a steady pace. I assume she was showing off her breasts. "Pants off," I suggested to Paul, patting his crotch lightly. He pulled his jeans down to his thighs and I did the same. I pulled his dick out of his underwear and started stroking it, but he still didn't take the hint, so I stopped to guide his hand down the front of my panties. Now we were getting somewhere. Paul's dick - skinny but very warm - was completely hard and twitching in my hand. My own juices were only just starting to flow, but Paul knew what to do well enough and my clitoris appreciated the attention. The girl was leaned back by this point, her hands on his legs. We didn't see much motion, but we could kind of make the guy's moans, so I assume she was gyrating around his cock. Then another person came into the tent - another woman based on what we could make out of the voices. The two girls argued lightheartedly while the new taller one took off her clothes. The shorter girl got up off of the guy and the tall girl took her place atop him. Paul came. Thick pungent semen splattered on the back of the driver's seat. He lost his focus on rubbing my clit while he came, but I hoped he'd get back to it shortly. Instead, he asked if I wanted to get high. He pulled a baggy of home-rolled cigarettes out of the storage compartment between the seats. "I've never done that," I said meekly. "It's just pot?" I asked. "Yeah, this stuff is clean," he said. He waited for my answer. "Sure, I guess," I said. I performed a quick mental inventory of my clothes to be sure that nothing would be hard to wash the pot smell out of. I took over rubbing my pussy lazily, splitting my attention between the drone video and Paul's drug activities. The tall girl was sitting straight upright riding the guy's cock with short but quick bounces. Paul took the first drag from the shriveled paper and then handed it to me. Once my lungs got used to the fact that I was deliberately filling them with poison, I started to enjoy it. The short girl knelt behind the tall girl, and I think put her hands on the tall girl's breasts. Two voices - the guy and one girl - began a dialog. The words were lost to us, but the tone was unmistakably dirty talk. By the time we finished the first joint, I was completely wet and good to go. I had figured out that I was going to have to create my own sexual satisfaction. By the time we finished the second one, I was completely jazzed, but I still hadn't managed to come yet. I don't know if it was the setting or the pot or Paul, but things just weren't working like they normally do for me. I was pretty seriously stoned. Paul was hard again by that time. He had taken to stroking his dick himself. The guy was behind one of the girls doing her doggy-style by that time, and going at it pretty hard. It seemed likely that our show was going to end pretty soon. The other girl was sitting near by, but it was anyone's guess what she was doing. I decided to see if Paul's cock could satisfy me where my fingers had failed. I crawled onto his lap facing him and lowered myself onto his pole. Some corner of my mind remembered that I should use a condom, but that went unheeded. Paul looked into my eyes as I started humping him. "Don't look at me," I instructed him. "Tell me what they're doing." Paul described the action pretty well: the girl lowering herself down to her elbows while the guy banged her from behind. The other girl was walking on her knees toward the guy and kissing him, and maybe twisting his nipples. It was strange moving my body on Paul's lap to move his cock inside of me. I had done it this way plenty of times in the past, but now with the pot, my body felt slow, like it was nothing but a sack of fluid sloshing around with so much momentum. But Paul's cock felt that way too, which was a novel and welcome change. I was getting close. Then Paul described the moment of stillness on-screen, suggesting that the guy had come. The three campers collapsed into a giant-orange ball. There was a moment of silence when Paul had nothing to describe. He broke it by asking, "Are you going to come?" "I'm trying," I said, a little annoyed. "Talk dirty to me." Paul sucked at talking dirty. I can't even remember the stupid stuff he said - I tuned him out, or maybe my mind just wasn't able to follow his ideas. But it kept him busy while I kept moving our bodies together, trying to come. Paul lost his train thought and started to moan, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let him come first and spoil all my hard work. I started working my hips hard into his cock, racing him to the finish line. If I had slipped and his dick had popped out, I probably would have hurt him. When I did come, it was a relief, and it felt good. All orgasms feel good. But it wasn't great. I thought about stopping right then - I mean, Paul sure hadn't put much effort into the experience. But he seemed like he was close to the edge. "I want you to come now," I told him, and kissed him. I pumped him some more hoping to finish him off, but nothing changed. On a whim, I gently wrapped my hands around his neck. I have no idea where it came from, but I found myself saying, "I'm going to choke you until you come or die." I meant it as a joke, I guess, but the look on his face said he took me seriously. Never the less, thats what did it for him. He gurgled out some noises and made a stupid O-face. I could feel the strange, slow, jelly-filled pulses inside my cunt. I remember Paul getting out of the SUV to put the drone away after that, but I fell asleep quickly. The next thing I knew Paul was nudging me awake outside of my apartment. "I had a good time. Thanks," he said. I wasn't sure if that meant he wanted to see me again or not - not that it matters. "Yeah, me too," I said, head in a fog. So now I'm home, eating ramen, listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and writing this.

Sunday November 13 Paul messaged me and asked when we can meet again. I said I wasn't interested. But! Richard - the guy I've been hoping to snag for the investigation - messaged me today too! Gotta play it cool though - stay in chara