Related article: Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray WilderChapter 55: PattyThis is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental.Copyright © 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, Young Nymphet except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywildaol.com======================================== It had only been twenty-four hours, but she was having trouble fitting all the pieces together. As she woke she found herself trying to remember where she was. That was okay. It happened a lot when she woke up in a strange bed. She felt a body move against hers and her hand reached out to investigate. Hard. Firm. Muscular. Breasts. June. Then the Young Nymphet rest of the previous day's events started to swim up to the surface of her memory. Lots of cocks. Lots of orgasms. Lots of travel and faces and pecs and hard, thrusting abdominals and her sister trying to scratch her eyes out in the driveway. Yesterday would go down in the record books as one of the most confusing days of her life. She felt June's hand wander up her side and lingered on the outer curve of her right breast. Slowly the finger moved in a lazy circling motion as it zeroed in on the nipple. When it reached its target the thumb joined it and gently began pinching. The nails of the fingers turned inwards and the nipple was caught between them; the pressure increased imperceptibly until, without any way to tell it had happened, the sensation crossed over from pleasure to pain. The nipple hardened against the attack and Patty arched her back, pressing her breast against the fingers. Energy shot out from the point of pain and made a bee-line for her clit. Within seconds she was rising from sleepy, dreamy languishings to full-blown sexual arousal. She threw the covers away and reached for where she knew she would find June's head. June had obviously been awake for some time, waiting for Patty to surface. But she was still taken by surprise with Patty's swift attack. June tried to put up a struggle, but the powerful woman soon had her under control. Patty dragged June's head down until she was positioned just above Patty's cunt. Her legs were spread wide and the look of determination let June know there would be no respite until June finished what she had started. June still hadn't let go of Patty's nipple. Patty had made sure she would not loose her grip on the lengthy nub of flesh. Now June's hand opened and grabbed the entire mound, squeezing it, pressing it, massaging it. At the same time she lowered her face to within an inch of Patty's musky cunt and teased the labia with her tongue. Patty wriggled her hips down the sheets to press against the aggravating torture. She pulled up on June's hair and forced her lips against Young Nymphet her lover's. It was too much to stay quiet. She let out a loud, low moan that dripped of sexual desire. And this, first thing in the morning. Within seconds Patty found herself driving her hips hard against the attacks of her lover. She tried to hold off, to let the tension rise, to savor the effect June was having on her, but she was still drowsy, not quite up to the surface. A slow, easy orgasm melted over her like hot cheese on nachos. Her jalepe–os popped and she drifted, floated back into a sleepy, dreamy siesta. June drew herself up between Patty's legs and onto Patty. She let her weight go, lowering herself down onto her and then let her hands roam over the hard, powerfully muscled body she had worshipped and yearned for since first having seen it in magazines back at the beginning of her own body building career. She and Patty had fleshed out the extent of June's attraction to Patty during the course of the previous evening's activities. Patty let her know that whatever had drawn June to her was okay, as long as she could see it for what it was and live with it. There was nothing wrong with wanting Patty's body. There was nothing wrong with wanting to use her as a role model. The only problem would be if it was done without regard for Patty's own wishes. June had told Patty how much better she felt now that everything was out in the open. She was also happy to know that fact far surpassed fantasy. Patty allowed herself to be mildly flattered. She also liked the idea of being able to make love to this copy of her body. They both talked about the slightly narcissistic feeling it gave them. But even better was being able to lay back and experience all the wonderful things they had done to each other, just as though they were doing it to themselves. Many times in the past Patty had wondered what it would feel like to grab her bicep and experience it only from the outside. She always enjoyed running her hands over her various body parts, especially when they were bloated and full from the pump. But there was always the wish she could separate the feeling of her muscle from her hand. As June's muscles came under Patty's scrutiny, Patty got to know just what the sensation was. Although June was several years behind her in her development, it was not so far that Patty's imagination couldn't make the leap. Now she surrounded June's back with her own powerful arms and hugged her tight, her fingers tracing the convoluted musculature of the other woman's back. As June moved to explore various parts of Patty's body her back muscles contorted and bulged, increasing Patty's need to explore even more. It was going to be hard to give this up. It would take a lot to make her want to move past the joy she was experiencing, her fine, full breasts pressing against June's, each of their potent bodies hungering for the attention of the other. About the only thing that could make this more perfect would be to have her new neighbor standing over them, trying desperately to decide which of these magnificent women he should offer his eleven-and-a-half inch cock to first. That did it. She knew she had to do something about this. Arnold's cock had been haunting her ever since yesterday morning (was it only yesterday?). Here she Young Nymphet was, lying beneath a body with the power and presence to fulfill her sexual desires and fantasies, a beautiful, caring woman who fit her like a matching piece of a very well-crafted puzzle. Her nipples were hard and erect. Her clit was hard and erect. Her mind was humming on the edge of sexual joy. And suddenly it wasn't enough. Again. It was just another step towards the ultimate fantasy: Arnold. "June?" "Hmmm?" "June, honey. Could you come up for air for a second, please?" The cool air of the room made her wet nipple crinkle with delight as June's mouth came off it in a Cheshire cat grin. "What's up, Patty?" "I know this is going to sound really crass and unappreciative, but I've got to think about getting on the road." "I know. I was just trying to see how long I could distract you." "You know it's not because I'm not enjoying myself here." "Listen, love. If I had a eleven-and-a-half inch cock waiting for me at the end of a long drive, I'd be wanting to get on the road as soon as possible, too." Of course Patty had discussed Arnold with June. He was, after all, the assumed reason for her heightened state of arousal. Even June, who was as familiar with the augmented sexual appetite of people in the business, had commented on Patty's devouring drive. In addition, Patty had passed several comments about Arnold during June's introduction to anal sex. It was very sweet of June to be so understanding; happy for Patty's good fortune. "Thanks. I'm gonna hop in the shower. Alone. I'll see you in a few minutes." Patty placed her hands on June's shoulders and lifted the woman off of her, allowing her to roll to one side. She slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. At the door she turned back to June. She was stretched out Young Nymphet on the bed, the fingers of her left hand toying with her right nipple, her right index finger circling her clit. "It's kind of hard to look at you and not want to cum, you know." "Thanks for the compliment, but you're really making this leaving thing difficult." "Yeah. I know. A shame, isn't it?" "You are incorrigible, little sister." "Oh, incest, now, is it?" "June, dear. You are a lot closer to me now, after just a few hours, than my real sister has ever been after all my life. And stop doing that." "Doing what? This?" June's left hand moved to her clit as well. She doubled her efforts and was soon writhing on the bed in exaggerated expectation of an orgasm. Patty began striking poses, her thrilling body suddenly covered with bulging muscles, her skin lined with veins. June gasped involuntarily and her attempts to lure Patty back to bed suddenly became an honest drive to bring herself off. Patty locked eyes with the desperate, horny woman and, with just a few more poses, witnessed June's shuddering, shaking body as she drove herself over the edge. Her muscles tensed, her back arched, her fingers whipped back and forth across her clit, and then she collapsed back on the bed, her chest heaving with deep breaths. Patty smiled triumphantly. "Look ma, no hands." June just groaned as Patty made her way to the shower. While waiting for the hot water to come up, Patty turned to the mirror and studied her reflection. She tried to see it from the perspective of someone else; someone who could appreciate the effort she had put into forming her body into the finely honed sculpture she saw before her. Surely June could do that. There was no one who had a better idea of what it was like than June. That had a scary feeling to it, even after having worked through the issue last night. Then there was Arnold. This was who she really wanted to affect with her body. Would it be enough? Surely he must have had so many amazing encounters in his life. She wondered if he went around dropping his eleven-and-a-half inch schlong into every woman's hand: "Hi, my name is Arnold and this is my cock." Would she be the most recent in a long line of conquests? Even now she knew he would be at The Pump House working out with Peter. What was that going to be like? Would she be able to compare with Peter, even? She became aware of the mirror again, but the water had finally gotten hot and the bathroom was filled with steam. She closed her eyes and ran her hands up her sides to her breasts. She squeezed them, pressed them, rubbed them the way she wanted others to. June had known what she wanted and was very good at guessing how to give that to her. Should she take June along with her for her encounter with Arnold? That would be too much. Besides, Patty had to know that she could handle this guy on her own terms. Why was she suddenly so filled with doubts? After the trail of sexual devastation she had left behind her over the past twenty-four hours, was there any question that she wasn't the most sought after body in the state? Besides Arnold's, of course. It was June. Not that she had done anything on purpose, but just knowing there was someone else striving to be as much her as possible seemed a bit threatening. Could June walk into the same places Patty had the past day and leave the same trail of carnage? Patty doubted it, but didn't like the fact that she could even ask the question. Then there was the issue of why it mattered in the first place. If what Peter said about Arnold was correct, then it couldn't, shouldn't matter one bit. She adjusted the water temperature and then quickly gave herself the once over with a bar of soap from the rack hanging off the shower head. Patty shuddered as she recognized the shower hardware as being the same one she had at home. What were the chances? The soap had a familiar smell to it as well, though it was well passed being identifiable. Maybe the towels on the shelf were the same as hers. And the deodorant in the medicine chest. And perhaps they even used the same tampon and hair spray and gym shoe inserts and. . . Give it a break, Patty. She was quite relieved to find that June's towels were, indeed, quite different from her own. She didn't bother trying to find out what else matched up or didn't. It really didn't matter, did it? Did it? There was a soft knock on the bathroom door. "I'll be finished in a second." She had just spent the entire night naked with this woman. What was wrong with letting her see her now? She opened the door. June was already dressed in something she might go jogging in. "I just wanted to use the john before I went out for a morning run. I can wait." Patty finished drying herself off. She turned to ask what she should do with the wet towel. The look on June's face was a study in adoration. "I can't wait." "For what?" "Until I look like that. Like you. It was great being able to make love to you last night. Now I'll know what other people will be experiencing when I get closer to looking like you." "It's funny, I was just thinking that very thing. It was kind of nice being able to get to know my body through you. And I'll tell you, you've got a lot to look forward to. If it feels half as good to someone else as it does to me, then your lovers have a lot to look forward to, also." "I bet you can make men cum just by looking at you." "It's been known to happen, yeah." "I'm looking forward to that. I want to be that hot." "I'll tell you, June, it has as much to do with the other person as it does with you. And it's not something you can fake. You've got to want to make them do it as much as they want to. If those two things are there, there's nothing to stop the fluids from gushing. I made two guys do it yesterday, would have been three if he hadn't been hung up on something." Poor Peter. Arnold would be able to get that straightened out, no doubt. "What should I do with this towel?" "Just leave it, I'm doing laundry later today, anyway." They looked at each other again. June shook her head and stepped out of the way to let Patty pass then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Patty did not miss the distinctive odor that trailed behind June as she went. Her clothes were strewn all over the basement downstairs, so she dug through her overnight bag and got out the change of clothing she had brought with her. The blouse was one her brother-in-law had given her for her birthday this year. She had been so happy to get something that fit her so well. So very well. Looking back on it, there was little doubt as to his reasons for wanting her to look this good. And she did look this good, too. It must have tortured him to have her model it for him as she had, so eager to show him how it hugged her in all the right places. It was a good thing she hadn't worn it on her way down the day before. It would have been one too many nails in the coffin for her sister. There was something she hadn't given enough thought to in the past several hours. Not that she wanted to. Not that her sister really deserved it. But, sooner or later, that whole mess was going to have to be worked out. After tonight. After Arnold. She was tucking the blouse into her jeans when June came out of the bathroom. And here was another moment Patty was not looking forward to. Although this had been a very pleasurable experience in many ways, it had also been a very weird finish to a very weird day. Did she want to see this woman again? Did she want to give her the address to her apartment or just leave it at making sure she knew how to get to The Pump House? Did June expect Patty's apartment address or even her phone number? Actually, the whole thing seemed rather silly. She was in the phone book; June no doubt knew where the gym was, and if not could easily find out. And, bottom line, it was always nice to know there was a cop around. Especially one with such great taste in female body builders. Patty wished she wasn't feeling so out of sorts, so awkward. June had a questioning look on her face. Patty asked her what was up. "You seem rather disconnected this morning, Patty." "I know. You gotta believe me when I tell you yesterday was, without a doubt, one of the strangest days of my life. I kind of put it all on hold last night, but I think the dam just broke and I'm trying hard to figure it all out. And then, on top of everything else, I cap off the evening by making love to a very close approximation of myself. Good or bad, it was all very bizarre. And most of it delightful. Thank you for a great time and some wonderful hospitality." "This sounds more like a 'good-bye' than a 'see-ya-later.'" "Don't mean it to. You know where to find me. Play your cards right I might even introduce you to my next door neighbor. If you could handle it." "I'd like to see if we have that much in common. Thanks. I don't get up that way much, but I guess a weekend in the big city wouldn't hurt. I'll give you a call at the gym sometime and see if you'll be around." "Oh, I'm always around. About the most I can manage is a day or two like this to zip down the coast. Of course, I guess that will be out of the question for a little while, at least. Come on up. Even if you don't fit a size eleven-and-a-half, there are plenty of healthy young studs who'd love to show you around the joint." They stared at each other for a few seconds, each wondering if there was anything more to be Young Nymphet said. They both shrugged their shoulders. Guess not. There was a quick hug and June walked Patty out to her car. As she was getting in, she remembered the clothes thrown off in a frenzy the night before downstairs. Then she laughed. It had worked once, already. She decided to leave them and give June a reason to take that trip to the city. There was nothing she really needed. Not even the negative, really. Getting out of the subdivision was only slightly less complicated, the only advantage being that the sun was up and Patty was able to guess her way back to the freeway. As she accelerated down the entrance ramp her stomach rumbled its disapproval for having left June's without stashing some calories. Nothing for the next couple of miles looked remotely interesting and she decided she could hold out until she reached home. She didn't have to be at the gym at all today, but visions of June's body drove her to decide to get some pumps in. A quick, albeit late, breakfast at home and then she'd hit the weights for a while. There was also the thought that she was coming very close to the event which had been driving her life for the past twenty-four hours. She marveled at the fact that it had only been yesterday morning when she had met Arnold and his presence had begun its amazing effect on her. And in just a few more hours she would be experiencing this frightening man first hand. Her anus trembled. The traffic on the freeway was only moderately heavy, but it was enough to give her thoughts of bailing out and taking the coast road back up. She checked where she was and mentally calculated where the next exit would put her; just south of the little gas station she had stopped at the day before. No way. Even as she thought this her whole body began to hum as though she were about to be entered by cock; that wonderful moment of suspension just before the head presses against the lips of her cunt, that instant when you prepare for the invasion, the lowering of defenses, the tensing, then relaxing as you spread yourself to accept the hot, hard shaft of flesh which fills and presses and sends your mind sailing off on such wonderful journeys. Patty realized she had paid little attention to the road for the last several moments and made a quick survey of her surroundings. The car to the left of her was being driven by a young man with long blond locks of loosely curled hair. His sharp features gave him the look of a modern sculpture. He was busy trying to drive and keep an eye on Patty at the same time; his head did quick little jerking motions back and forth as he looked first at the road ahead and then out his right window. Although Patty was in Young Nymphet no mood to get involved with anything less than eleven-and-a-half inches, she enjoyed the attention. Concentrating on the warm feelings being generated between her legs, she pressed her arms together on the steering wheel, arched her back slightly and felt her lengthy nipples press against the fabric of her shirt. She had no doubt the effect she was producing was visible a lane away. She thought harder about Arnold's huge cock resting in her hand, imagined the moment of suspension just before he would press it into her. Her nipples ached even more. She wanted desperately to press her hands against them, to squeeze them, pinch them. The memory of June's attentions that morning was brought back to her as well. She moaned. She glanced back at the sculpture to her left. His right hand had left the steering wheel and was below her field of vision, but the look on his face left little room for doubt about what he was up to. What was his cock doing? Was the head slowly creeping down his pant leg? Or was it painfully pressing against the zipper. Had he cum in the last day or two? Was he so horny that a small spot was appearing on the front of his chinos? She imagined it pressing up against the zipper, hard, painful, threatening to burst through the front of his pants. She would be turning him on so bad the zipper would be no match for his need. She flexed her upper body harder and was rewarded by the sculpture's car almost ramming into the side of hers. Horns blew, traffic swerved and slowed as everyone tried to avoid this accident waiting to happen. And she knew - just knew - that there was a small pool of hot, salty liquid slowly spreading out from the huge aching bulge in the front of his pants. Six for seven. Look, ma. No hands. She had to wonder, though. Was the whole world that horny? Or was it just her? She vowed to behave herself the rest of the way home and settled in for a long, boring ride made even less bearable by the low-level hum that now coursed through her rock-hard body. Occasionally, thoughts of what she wanted to do to her neighbor's body floated to the top of her mind and she had to deflect them with inventories of cleaning supplies for the gym and completely unwarranted worries about Peter's closing up the night before. She wished that thought hadn't crossed her mind. It was very possible the two of them, Arnold and Peter, were, at this very moment, having their first session at The Pump House. Would they go straight to work or get to know each other a little before hitting the weights? Screech Honk "Sorry." A case of cleanser, two mop heads, a couple gallons of bleach. . . She decided to go directly to her apartment and change into fresh clothes before going to the gym. She also thought she would rather not see Arnold (with Peter) before the appointed time this evening. It was quite wonderful, this hot, hummy feeling she got inside her everytime she thought about the two men together. It was also a little amusing. How many people would have been overwhelmed with the thought of having sex with Arnold, and here she was desiring not only his beautiful, well-hung talents, but also those of a man she wasn't even sure would be interested in having sex with her. Would Peter let her get close again? Would he let her participate? She remembered what Peter had said after Arnold left the gym the day before. Sharing, wanting it all. How close would Peter come to having the same philosophy? Or, once having had Arnold, would he not want to share at all? The car almost drove past her apartment and on to the gym of its own volition and she had to remind herself of the trouble she could cause if she didn't reign herself in. It would also be good for her to practice a little restraint today, build the tension. She wanted to be a volcano for Arnold that night. She knew she could match him in every way. The thrill of having sex with another body that would be as dynamic, as high-pitched as her own. . . she moaned softly. She was able to control herself only until she got into the elevator. As the doors slid noisily closed she grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed the nipple hard. Her other hand forced its way down the front of her pants and pressed against the fabric of her panties, rubbing herself violently. She didn't want to cum. She only wanted to drive herself higher. She was going to enjoy the torture of the day, so close to exploding, so energized, so horny. She knew by the time she finished working out she would be ready to fuck a flagpole. She also knew that, tonight, she would. By the time she had gotten something to eat, talked herself out of masturbating a couple dozen times and dressed to workout it was well into the afternoon. She decided to walk over to the gym, having spent the morning sitting in the car. Greg greeted her from behind the desk with a "well look what the cat dragged in" look. She countered with a "you are not worthy to lick my toes and wouldn't you just want to fuck this incredible body right here on the countertop you big, muscular hunk of manflesh" look. Greg tried to come back with a retort, but finally responded with a "you win, O possessor of that which I ache desperately for" look. "In your dreams, stud. Anything interesting happen while I was away?" "Where do you want me to start?" "Oh-oh. Good or bad?" "Good mostly, I guess." "Let me guess. Peter and Arnold, right?" "You got it. They just left a little while ago. I think Arnold was taking him to lunch." "Lunch and dessert?" "Hard to say. I'm pretty sure they took care of dessert before getting to work this morning. They certainly spent a lot of time down in the locker room before they started." "So what's not to be good?" "Nothing, I guess. We're all just getting used to losing the kid and gaining Peter, that's all. And the place is still buzzing in Arnold's wake. Where the hell did you find him?" "Next door neighbor. Can you believe it? A lot of stretched out jockstraps, huh?" "Yeah. And then, just after they left, this couple came in looking for Arnold. I thought they were related or something. They looked alike." "Oh, God. You mean there are more of them walking around?" "Yeah. There was something about the guy especially; his stance, his eyes, his. . ." "Jockstrap?" "There was that. Anyway, the two of them, Ed and Sam. . ." "Ed and Sam? Two guys?" "Sam's a woman. Samantha, maybe. They had the same. . . I don't know. . . power? They had a feeling about them." "You should have asked them to stick around." "Things were crazy enough after Peter and Arnold left. I'm still waiting for my turn back in the employees bathroom, if you know what I mean." "So what did you tell these folks?" "They wanted to know if I could give them Arnold's address. I said no and they understood. They left their phone number just in case he checked in. I told them he would be back tomorrow morning at nine and they left." Patty started to say she would give the message to Arnold that evening, then decided she didn't want him distracted from her own selfish aims. That didn't seem right, either. She went with her first instinct. "I'm going to Young Nymphet see Arnold tonight. I'll give him the message." "Here it is. Everyone here has been asking for that number. Very hot. Put it in a safe place." Patty pulled out the front of her sweatshirt and stuffed the piece of paper into her cleavage." "I said safe, Patty." "Honey, I told you, I'm seeing Arnold tonight. And I mean night. Today we abstain. Tonight we soar." "Maybe I should have told those two he would be here tomorrow afternoon." "Maybe you should have told them he would be a drooling, blithering, pussy-whipped sex slave by tomorrow." "Maybe I should take you in the back room and knock your ego down a few notches." "As much as I would like to see you try, and believe me, I'm really in the mood for a little conquering of my own, I'm here to hit the weights. You need to take a break before I get started?" "Yeah. Peter took off and said he'd be back later. I know he's not on any kind of schedule, but I hadn't counted on him leaving." "Things are changing rapidly around here. I'll have to talk to him about hours and such. It's just never been an issue before. He's always just been here." "People have been asking for him all day. Several were a little peeved he was spending so much time with Arnold." "Well, we'll just have to get used to that. He expressed an interest in being his partner. Looks like that's already settled." "Yeah. It's just that a lot of people will be disappointed." "We'll work it out. Besides, if these boneheads can't get through it without someone mothering them, perhaps we've been too easy on them." "Let 'em eat cake, huh?" "Something like that. Go ahead and take a break, I'll hold down the fort." "Thanks. I shouldn't be too long." "Honey, your never too long." "Gee, Patty, you say the sweetest things. Haven't even had your first date and already your spoiled." "Spoiled, no. Just raising my standards a bit. Besides, it's about time we got some new blood in this place. It was starting to look like some royal court in here with all the in-breeding. Now get lost." Patty busied herself with trying to find something to busy herself with for a few minutes until Peter walked in the door. Patty didn't know what she should have expected, but it wasn't what she got. "Patty!" Peter ran around the front desk, planted a great big brotherly kiss in the middle of her forehead then lifted her by the waist and spun around twice. The stunned look on Patty's face sobered him a little, but only a little. "I'm sorry for taking so long with lunch. I got down to the beach and lost track of the time. It won't happen again." "Peter?" "Yeah?" "Could you put me down, please?" "Oh, sorry. I mean, no, I'm not sorry. I'm not anything. I'm not late or bad or stupid or weak or dumb or sick or anything." "Well, it's nice to know we can shorten the list. In the meantime, could you put me down, please?" Peter lowered her slowly to the floor, her body sliding down the front of hers. As her crotch met his she felt a decidedly un-brotherly bulge which he subtly pressed against her. If this had been any other time, any other place she would have had this young man on the counter, committing the closest thing to rape she could imagine a woman doing to a man. Instead, questions filled her mind. What had happened? This was definitely not the response she had gotten from him the previous day. The look on her face must have been obvious in its meaning. He ran his hands to her shoulders, held her at arm's length and peered deep into her eyes. "Look close, Patty. What do you see?" Patty studied him. She knew the answer wasn't obvious. She also knew one of her volleys of quick repartee was not what was called for here. There was something more than an infantile infatuation with eleven-and-a-half inches of cock at work. Something deep had changed. It might not even have anything to do with Arnold. Or, at least, very little. "Does this have anything to do with what we talked about yesterday?" "Yes. Of course it does. It has everything to do with it." "So Arnold has had quite an affect on you." "There you go again, Patty, being dumb." "I'm sorry? I thought we were talking about your little ejaculation problem." "We are. But it has very little to do with Arnold directly. It has everything to do with you." Peter's eyes were welling up with tears. The broad smile on his face bubbled with joy. She wanted to pull him to her, crush him in her arms and feel him do the same. Another place, another time. . . Greg came up the stairs and cleared his throat. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" "Yeah. But it's probably a good thing." "Hi, Greg. I hope it wasn't too much trouble me being gone that long?" "Everything's all settled. That's one hell of a workout partner you've got there. Looks like you both got the better deal." "Thanks. Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to keep from disappointing every one else around here." Patty could feel her mother hen instincts kicking in and so she counted to ten before making her next move. "I think we need to talk, my friend. Would you feel all right about stepping into the office?" Peter smiled. Patty had hoped he would understand her concern for this gesture and how it would be perceived. She mentally gave them both a brownie point for sensitivity. Peter preceded her into the other room and she shut the door behind her. After a brief, awkward moment he took a seat in one of the chairs on the "visitors" side of the desk. Patty decided to let him call the shots and sat in the large armed recliner on the business side. She had been sure of what she wanted to say to him, had been sure of how she wanted this to go. She was also reminded of the last time they were in this room together and how things had taken an unexpected turn. Besides, Peter seemed to have something he wanted to say first. She waited. "He told me to fuck him in the ass, Patty." "Why is it every time I let you start, I end up feeling like the room is spinning around me?" "Just a spinnin' kind of guy, I guess." "So?" "So I fucked him in the ass." "So now you're big man on campus." "Trying not to be. What's the matter, Patty? I thought you'd be happy for me. This doesn't have anything to do with your date with him tonight, does it?" "I guess it's not supposed to. But how do you expect it to affect me? You just told me you dorked the guy I've spent the last twenty-four hours obsessing over. The guy who, just yesterday, introduced himself by dropping his eleven-and-a-half inch cock into the palm of my hand. And so now I'm just supposed to throw Young Nymphet my arms around you, shout congratulations and go home to knit a sweater or something. Right?" "Wrong. And you know it, Patty. At least about the sweater. He is so hot for your bod he was having a hard time keeping his cock soft all afternoon." Peter paused for a moment and blushed. "I. . .ah. . .told him about your thing for smells. He'll probably work up a bit of a sweat before you get together tonight." Patty didn't know whether to climb over the desk and kill him or kiss him. She would have been unhappy with either result, but she felt like such a shit just sitting there. What had she in mind when she'd asked him to come in here, anyway? Oh yeah. "It sounds like you're status here is changing. There are rumblings among the ranks. I know we've never set any kind of schedule before, but that's because you were always here. Couldn't get rid of you." She chuckled. "It's about time this turned into a real job for you. You know what I mean?" Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "What's the matter?" "I don't know. It's just that, before, I was here because I wanted to be. Now you're making it Young Nymphet so I have to be." "That was before. This is now. You've made a commitment to Arnold. But you've also made a commitment to a lot of other people out there who have come to value your time and energy. I'm just trying to make the best of all worlds here." "What do you have in mind?" "Actually, the question is 'what do you have in mind?' It's your life. And, at least for the moment, you hold the advantage." "Advantage?" "Yeah. You've got the supply, out there is the demand. Let's talk turkey." Peter shook his head for several seconds, his face reflecting a series of internal discussions. Finally he looked back at Patty and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know anything about this, Patty. It's all kinda new to me." "Okay. Maybe this is taking things a little too fast. Let's lay out the facts, then you take some time to work on them." Peter nodded in agreement. "Good. First, we need to figure out a salary for you. We also need to figure out a schedule. Both have to do with what it's worth to you. What do you need to live? Time and Young Nymphet money. You need to make a budget and a schedule. You tell me how much money you need and how much time you can give us. We'll match that against what I'm willing to pay you and how much time I need you here. Both of us are going to have to be reasonable. You've been giving it away for free for so long we're all used to that. On the other hand, don't price yourself out of the market. Maybe you should do a little research. Ask around at some of the other gyms and find out what folks are getting. Okay?" "Yeah. Sure." "What's wrong?" "I don't know. All of a sudden it seems so. . .so. . ." "Grown-up?" "Yeah. Oh well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later. Peter Pan gets a job. Film at eleven." "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us. All of us, actually. Some adjust to it better than others, that's all. If you want to play with the big boys, you gotta learn the rules. Relax, it's really a lot easier once you get some structure. With all the hours you've been putting in here, it's going to feel like a vacation." "I think that's the trouble. I don't want a vacation. I don't want to have to worry about filling up a lot of spare time." "Peter." "Yeah, Patty?" "Look who you're working out with. You won't have anything to worry about. Except maybe fending off everyone who's going to want to get into your pants." "Aw, Patty." "Cut the bashful stuff, stud. If I weren't prepping myself for some serious pelvis smashing tonight I'd have you pinned to the carpet right now. And I don't give a flying fuck how you feel about women." "Arnold told me I shouldn't be surprised about who I see in the mirror tonight. The more this day goes on, the more I feel different. How do I look? Anything changed?" Patty thought of a million comebacks, but decided to give him the straight answer. She studied his face, looking for signs that something had changed inside him. Her gaze traveled down his torso and he opened himself to her. "You're very pumped. Arnold must have put you through your paces." "He kicked my butt. I've been spending all this time getting everyone else to max out. Now I know what it feels like." "What goes around comes around." "He was pretty beat, too." "No doubt." Patty continued her appraisal. Nothing else seemed to be obviously different, so she returned to his face. That was it; the smile. It made Patty grin. "What are you smiling at?" "You. You're smiling. You haven't stopped since you walked in here." "Come to think of it, I haven't stopped since Arnold walked in here. My cheeks are starting to hurt." "No pain, no gain." Patty sighed. "You're really quite handsome, you know." Peter blushed. "Aw, Patty. Now don't start." "Really. And I don't just mean outside. It's your vulnerability. You're kind of child-like. It leaves people defenseless. That's how you get inside these folks and push them. They can't believe such a sweet, disarming person could be such a drill sergeant. You get 'em going before they have time to say no, and by then it's too late. Sneaky fucker." "I don't mean to be. I just see what I think they need and help them find it. I'm not trying to trick anyone." "Sometimes the only way to get someone to do something is to make them forget their doing it. Like now." Peter raised a questioning eyebrow. "You don't even know you're doing it, do you?" "What are you talking about?" "I don't know. Maybe I'm just excited about tonight. I should be mad at you for getting to Arnold before me. I should be pouting and firing you and throwing hundred-pound plates across Young Nymphet the room. If I were acting true to form. Instead I'm sitting here trying very hard not to jump across this desk and drive myself down on that sweet, innocent, gorgeous cock you are so innocently thrusting towards me." Peter sat up straight in the chair and crossed his legs, his hands dropping down to his genitals in a protective gesture. Patty laughed. Peter smiled shyly. Patty growled in frustration and spun the chair around to look out the window. After a couple of seconds Peter cleared his throat. "Patty?" "What?" "When I'm ready, I want you to be my first. When I'm ready." Silence hung between them for a long time. Patty didn't want to respond because she couldn't predict how she would act. She hoped he would just get up and politely leave the room. She listened for movement, but all she could hear was his deep, even breathing. Finally, she could stand it no longer. "Take the rest of the day off, Peter. We'll see you tomorrow and talk about all of this." She swung her chair around to face him. "Tomorrow afternoon." "Arnold said he'd be in at three." "Smart man. See you then." Peter stood and went to the door. As it opened it he thrust his pelvis forward and the door caught against the bulge in his pants. He slowly pulled the door past it, pressing into it as it went, and then turned to Patty, giving her an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle. The nearest thing to Patty's right hand, a pink rubber erasure, came sailing across the room and bounced off the door as it closed behind him. Holy shit was she horny. Her hand begged to be allowed to grab herself between the legs. Her whole body started to vibrate in frustration. She recognized the signs and knew there was only one thing, short of masturbation, that was going to solve this. Good thing, too, because that was exactly what she had come here for. She came storming out of the office and headed for the gym floor with such determination that everyone cleared a path for her. On the way, Greg yelled to remind her to warm-up first. Young Nymphet She told him to go fuck himself and then quickly went through a set of stretches. For the second time that day the room was filled with the sexually charged vibrations of someone under Arnold's influence. She approached the first person she saw. "You alone?" The girl, the guest of a member, having never been exposed to the full-blown Patty, shook her head but said nothing. "I need a partner. You available?" A non-verbal nod was response enough. Patty grabbed her arm and dragged her across the room. Two-and-a-half hours later the poor girl, whose name Patty hadn't even bothered to learn, collapsed in the corner behind a pec-deck draped with two spider plants. A hanging ivy extended down from a shelf along the wall and ended inches above her head. When Patty turned to her she cowered, fearing what might come next. Patty walked to her, took her two hands and lifted her to her feet. Her muscles, pumped beyond anything this girl had seen, strained the skin to the bursting point. "Thank you. You did pretty good, sticking with me. You keep that up and there won't be a woman on the beach who won't have to look out for you." The girl just shook her head in disbelief and sat down on the seat of the pec-deck, stunned beyond communication. Patty headed for the shower pulling off articles of clothing along the way. She was naked from the waist up by the time she got to the locker room door. A quick stop at the entrance to the shower room as she stepped out of the rest of her clothing, left her completely free. The shower nozzles lined opposite walls. She walked to the center one on the left and turned it on as well the one to the left and right of it. Turning the outer nozzles to face her, she spread her arms and legs wide and let the hard, biting spears of sensation hit her full force. She was so full, so big, so pumped. Every muscle shrieked and yelled. She wanted a hard, firm, strong, muscular, well-hung body to grab her, crush her, fight her, test her strength, press against her, fill her. She'd thought the workout would be enough, but it only fueled her desire. She wanted more. Turn the center nozzle to a hard, driving, solid stream. Move so it hits the left nipple. Oh, God. So hard. Hold it. Hold it. Gotta move. Hold it. Harder. Harder. It's so long. So hard. Can't stand it. Now the right. Already erect. Hard. Don't touch. Stay there. Harder. God, it aches. Hurts. Now. Slowly move to the left. Hard on the breast bone. Drumming. Slowly now. Move back. Down. Flex the abs. Hard on the abs. Move back. On the belly button. Hard. Move back. Back. Slow. On the top of the pelvis. Hold. Wait. Wait. Oh, God. Back an inch. Another. Another. In the hair. Sway left. Sway right. Back an inch. Oh, so close. Lean back. A bit. A bit more. Oh, yeah. Oh, shit. Oooohhhhhh. Unnnnnhhhhhhh. Mmmmmmmmm. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Hold. Hold. Hold. Can't. Hold. Don't. Oh. No. No. Hold. Ho. . . Ho. . . "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, shit. Patty sank slowly to her knees in front of the onslaught, turning her head as the stream of water approached her face. She let it drive into the top of her skull for a few seconds and then pulled away. She had been so close. Just a few more seconds. . . Her clit hadn't been able to stand the intense attack. And she wanted to save it for tonight. "That stud better be in rare form." Patty's voice echoed off the tiles of the room, mixing with the sound of the water. "That stud better have life insurance." Patty turned quickly to see her workout partner standing at the entrance to the room. Her clothes were laying in a pile next to Patty's and the visual evidence said she had seen enough for it to have a profound affect on her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know this was a private affair. It's just that, well, after what you put me through out there, I was a little, ya'know, sweaty." It took a second for Patty to straighten her head around. There was nothing wrong with this girl having seen her self-torture session. What she was having trouble with was the fact that here was a young, firm, muscled, sexually stimulated body standing within striking distance and Patty's whole being was vibrating on the edge of a volcanic eruption. "You need some, ya'know, help?" It took another second for Patty to process the invitation. The girl obviously took the delay to mean she had not made herself clear. "Can I, ya'know, like do anything for you?" Patty stood and moved toward the girl. She leaned up against the wall, reached out and stroked the girl's cheek with the back of her hand. "What's your name?" "Julia. You're Patty" "Yeah." "After you left I asked the friend I'm with out there. They told me. About you. Who's the stud?" "New guy. Just moved in next door to me. Has some rather special attributes." "I guess. You always get psyched up for a date this way?" "Honey, this is just the tail end of it. You wouldn't believe what I've been through the past twenty-four hours." "If you have to let off that much steam, it must have been pretty intense." "Honey, if I could write a book. . ." The two women stood face to face for a moment, the tension between them becoming thicker by the second. Julia made several starts at moving towards Patty but hesitated each time. Patty waited, wondering just what her admirer had in mind. Finally, Julia got up enough courage to raise her hand to Patty's left breast and lightly graze the inch-long nipple with the back of her index finger's knuckle. When Patty didn't object, she became more bold, turned her hand and pressed the palm against the hard nub. Again, Patty's reaction neither encouraged or discouraged. Julia's other hand found its way to Patty's opposite breast and pressed into it as well. Now Patty began to react. Julia's actions were still reticent so Patty grabbed her hands and mashed them against her, pressing her hard, firm breasts into the attention. This was all the encouragement Julia needed. Suddenly she was down on her knees, her mouth open and seeking the hot, moist pit of Patty's passion. She pulled her hands away from Patty's breasts and used them to spread the swollen lips of her vagina. With the precision of an expert marksman, she dove for Patty's clit. Patty found herself plastered up against the wall of the shower, the woman's tongue lapping viciously at her hard, swollen clit. She knew she was very close to cumming and almost gave into her overflowing desires. At the last minute, though, she reached for Julia's head and pulled it away from her cunt. The other woman's eyes stared up at her, filled with question and desire. "You, my dear, are enough to make me stray. But I kind of made a pact with myself. No cork popping until this evening. This guy is going to be enough to handle. I want to be able to keep up with him." "He must be very special." "Yeah. Eleven-and-a-half inches of special." Julia stood, her mouth agape, the smell of Patty's musk on her lips. "Thick?" "It's gonna hurt real good." Julia's hand moved to her own clit and began to work herself. Obviously, the thought of such a penis inside her was driving her need. Patty moved to her and offered her own finger in assistance. The offer was accepted and within seconds cries of succulent torture were echoing off the tiles of the shower room. Patty sucked on one of Julia's nipples and then the other. Their positions switched and Julia was the one pressed against the wall. She shoved her pelvis hard against Patty's hand and, with the help of her own manipulations of her nipples, soon found herself leaping into orgasm. As her bliss rumbled through her body, she lunged at Patty and pressed her mouth to Patty's in a desperate kiss. Her arms flew around Patty's neck and dug into her muscles, seeking to grapple with their strength, plumb their extent. Patty felt the woman's crotch pump against her thigh as her passion took over. She flexed her legs and the explosion in strength and size drove the other woman even higher. Her hands were a flurry of activity, seeking out every rock-hard bulge of Patty's body; crushing and pressing, squeezing and kneading. A corner of Patty's mind yelled for restraint, but she feared the battle was lost. Her body cried out for release, yet again, and she tried desperately to maneuver her cunt to bring it to bear against Julia's own thigh. Several times she found herself straddling the hard muscle of the upper leg, but each time Julia's excited movements took her out of range. Patty became increasingly frustrated until this emotion over-powered her need and she pulled away. Julia's face was plastered with ecstasy. Her own hand worked at her clit and she was in the process of finishing herself off. It was moments before she realized Patty had abandoned her. As she returned to earth, she opened her eyes and saw, finally, the hard, bulging, frustrated, angry woman facing her. She froze. Patty locked eyes with her, the strength of her gaze matched by the formidable size of her bulging muscles. "What?" Patty continued to stare. "What? What did I do?" Finally Patty shook her head and chuckled. "If I yank this guy's cock out by the root tonight, it's going to be all your fault." "But you said you didn't. . . I mean. . . didn't you. . .?" "Yeah, honey. I did. And let that be a lesson to you. Be careful of what you say. It just might come true." "I mean, if you want. I mean, I want. . . y'know. You." "Ditto here, kid. But I've got other fish to fry. Thanks for the priming. You certainly know how to get a girl's engine running." "I think yours was, ya know, already in like high gear when I walked in here. I just like grabbed hold of the steering wheel. Ya know?" Julia studied Patty for a few seconds, the look in her eyes telling the question on her mind. "You, like, set on this holding out thing, huh?" "Yeah, I guess so. I've kinda got the feeling this guy's doing it as well. I guess it'd only be right." "Like, okay. Well, thanks for the lift. And the workout. Just like give me a little more warning next time, Ya know. I'll, like, bring my army." Patty touched her cheek and patted it gently. "Sorry to get Young Nymphet you involved in this. I should know better than to loose control like that. Under any other circumstances, I would. Come on back and visit again. It stays pretty crazy around here, most of the time." "Like, see ya." Patty gathered her clothes from the pile near the shower and wandered back to her locker. Her nipples were so hard they smarted. She flexed her pecs to keep her breasts from bouncing too much, thereby decreasing the stimulation. Under normal circumstances she loved the feeling of the weight and movement of her large breasts as they swung back and forth, bounced up and down, but now they were just reminders of how revved up she was. Patty used extra care in drying herself between her legs and didn't even attempt to get the water off her nipples. Even putting on her clothes was almost enough to send her over the edge. The fabric of her halter pressed against her nipples and made her yearn for lips and tongue there. On her way out the door she chatted with Greg for a minute, but found her gaze drifting towards his huge bicep each time he made a movement with his arm. It did her little good when she glanced away, only to be captivated by the delicious bulge in the front of his shorts. "Patty, if you're going to have a conversation with my cock, I'd appreciate you referring to it by name instead of just staring." "Sorry, Greg. I'm just not doing very well, socially. I've gotta go home and take care of this business. Hopefully I'll be okay by tomorrow." "If not, come see me. I'll see if I can help you out." "You don't give up, do you?" "Am I supposed to?" "Not on your life. But it ain't supposed to be easy, Young Nymphet either." She gifted him with a quick peck on the cheek and hurried out the door before he could retaliate. "That sonuvabitch better be as horny as me, after all this, or I might just rip it out by the root, anyway," she mumbled under her breath. It was a very good thing she had walked over to the gym. The fresh air and distractions of dealing with traffic as a pedestrian were enough to take her mind off her plight. She enjoyed it so much it was almost too much of a shock when she saw, from a block away, Arnold's car pulling into the parking lot. Without thinking, she burst into a run and tried to catch him. As she crossed the parking lot she saw him coming out of the elevator vestibule on the sixth floor. Even from this distance she could make out the huge bulge in the front of his pants along with its accompanying stain. "Ooo, baby." He was in a hurry, and Patty hoped it wasn't to wank himself off. He dashed down the walkway and burst into his own apartment, barely stopping to put the key in the lock. He was a man with some kind of mission, anyway. Perhaps he just had to take a leak real bad. Patty chuckled. With a hard-on like that, the only leaking he was going to be doing was the kind already obvious on his pant Young Nymphet leg. So where was he going in such a hurry. Maybe he just didn't want to be seen in his current state. That was understandable. The image of his huge cock pressed against his pant leg made her start to get hot and mushy all over again. If she wasn't careful, she was going to be in the same state as her neighbor. It suddenly occurred to her she had invited him for dinner. With all her thoughts on getting his eleven-and-a-half inch cock into every orifice of her body, she had completely forgotten the original plan. She was pretty sure neither of them would be thinking too much about food in the beginning, but sooner or later their stomachs would start grumbling. She made a quick mental inventory of the contents of her refrigerator and cabinets and decided there was enough there to present a suitable meal. And, if not, they could easily order something in.Tomorrow's news report: Chinese take-out delivery boy ravaged by sex-crazed, muscle-bound freaks. Mumbles: "They tipped good." Film at eleven. She still had a couple of hours, so decided to go up to the apartment and get things in order. Whatever she was going to fix, it had to be something that would keep. Who knew when they would actually get around to eating. Food. Then there was, of course, the thought: why wait? He was home. She was home. Perhaps a little before-sex sex. What should she do? Just waltz up to his door, knock and throw herself at him the minute the door opened. "Hi. I know I'm early, but I didn't think you'd mind if I dropped in unannounced and rammed myself down on your eleven-and-a-half inch cock." Naw. Besides, half the fun was in the waiting. She had held out this long, surely another couple of hours wouldn't matter. Hah! This was like getting all her birthday, Christmas and Mother's Day presents (Mother's Day?) for the rest of her life on the same day and being told not to open them until the appropriate holiday in the appropriate year. Patty took the stairs up to the sixth floor and let herself into her apartment. Five minutes of rummaging around in various cabinets and refrigerator shelves revealed enough supplies to create a meal that would serve their needs. She knew she had worked up a hunger with her session at the gym. There was no reason to believe Arnold hadn't done the same during his encounter with the indomitable Peter earlier in the day. She found she actually enjoyed assembling the evening's meal and was surprised that an hour-and-a-half had passed by the time she put the last of the food under wraps and headed for the living room. As she walked down the hallway she heard sounds coming through the wall between hers and Arnold's apartment; sounds that were all too familiar to her not to be recognized. Metal against metal, cables running through pulleys, the grunts and groans of physical exertion. He was pumping up for her. He obviously had a good supply of hardware. From the sounds of it he was pumping up for her real good. Her own muscles were still humming in the afterglow of the pump. Thick and hard, they were filled in the same way she imagined a man's cock must feel as it stiffens. Especially the cock dangling between the legs of the man she could hear beyond the wall. Would it be dangling? Or would it be hard, as hard as a lead pipe, long and mean, getting in the way of every movement, every rep. Would he be waving it around in front of him, enjoying the momentum of it as she enjoyed the feeling of her own breasts swinging free? Or would he have it tightly bound within the confines of some device of torture, aching to be released, soaking up the smell of him as he sweated and groaned through his reps? Oh, the smell. Crotch and sweat and musk and cum. She pressed herself against the wall and tried to breathe him in through the drywall. Was it her imagination, or could she feel the heat of his body radiating through to her? He was so hot. So sexual. So. . . so. . . Much. Pressing harder, she tried to pass Young Nymphet through the wall, to join him, be with him, fuck him. Her nipples ached as she mashed them against the barrier. Just a little harder, she felt, and they would push through to the other side. He would come to the wall and take them into his mouth, sucking them, and her, down his throat, down his soul. For the umpteenth time today she felt the rumblings of an orgasm within her. Only this time she wasn't even touching herself. If he would just press his hard, aching cock against the wall on his side, she was sure she would cum. God, this was delicious. By the time seven o'clock rolled around, they wouldn't even have to move. Just the sight of him would drive her over the edge. After twenty-four hours of build-up, the pay-off was going to be devastating. For both of them. There seemed to be a lull in the activity next door so she pulled herself away from the wall, chuckling at the sweaty imprint of her body she left there. She felt a little light-headed and thought maybe she should get some food in her. There were some vegetables in the fridge which she took out to the balcony and munched on. The evening's off-shore breeze had kicked in, carrying with it the salty smell of the ocean. The surf was up a bit and each roar of each wave breaking on the shore made itself felt inside her. It would not be hard to imagine the pounding surf translated into the driving, pounding need of her neighbor's cock as it drove into her. . . Again. . . And again. . . And again. . . And again. . . And again. . . It took all her will power to break the hypnotic spell. She shook her head and looked around to distract herself from the lulling rhythm. Looking left and right, she followed the course of the asphalt bike path as it ran along the length of the beach. Her gaze continued north, then up the outside of her building to Arnold's balcony. She noticed the divider between his and the next apartment's space had been removed and leaned up against the far end, leaving only the frame. Glancing further around her own divider she noticed a small Japanese garden built on a huge boulder, several tools and a can of spray lubricant. These last items were set on the floor next to her own divider and she could tell the bolts on Arnold's side had been sprayed, as if in preparation for its removal. What the hell was going on here? She had met the other neighbor several times, once when the woman's apartment had been broken into. She was some kind of photographer, did layouts, and had even approached Patty about doing some work. She was also very beautiful, in a softer, non-muscular way, and never seemed to be wanting for company in the evening hours. Perhaps Chris (Patty Young Nymphet recalled her name) and Arnold had been introduced last night while she, herself, was down the coast fucking half the population of the southern counties. And now. . . what? They were co-habitating? There certainly seemed to be a dropping of barriers, so to speak. And more to come, if the drips of spray from the bolts in her divider were any indication. This didn't make any sense. At least it didn't until Peter's words of the past day came back to her, summing up his feelings about Arnold and how he figured Arnold was into everything and for everyone and Patty guessed that included vibrant, red-haired beauties who took photographs. . . Arnold's warning in the parking lot the previous morning about them being watched. . . was this who he'd suspected? Had she taken photographs of her "helping" him pull his car? Removing the divider between their apartments certainly was a strange way to extract retribution for invasion of their privacy. And whose idea was it? And once the divider was down, then what? And finally, who the hell was Arnold pumping up for? She looked out over the beach and saw the woman in question laying out. Her body was slathered with sun block and she was attracting a lot of attention from people walking the surf. Her classic female curves and lines were as obvious from this distance as had been Arnold's cock pressed against the leg of his pants. Round, ample breasts, flat, unstriated belly, full, shapely hips. Every dimension, every radius seemed to define, rather than be defined by, femininity. Again, the question was begged: What did those shapes, those curves, so at odds with Patty's own hard, chiseled body, have to do with the drips of lubricant on the bolts holding the divider between her apartment and Arnold's? Who had put them there, Arnold or Chris? Who's idea was it, Arnold's or Chris's? For, surely, Patty had run into a certain number of Chris's overnight guests on her way out for her morning run, and not all of them were male. Patty's gaze wandered over the form lying on the beach mat. A certain tingling inside her spoke of unfulfilled thoughts. Several rides up or down the elevator with Chris had supplied her with a shower fantasy or two. It wasn't that Chris was out of shape. She was, in fact, in very good shape. But she wasn't "one of them." Patty also harbored secret fears that she, herself, would be far less desirable were she not as built as she was. She tried to stay clear of the "they only want me for my big tits and muscular cunt" syndrome, but every once in a while she'd have to face Young Nymphet these things, and she didn't like the answers she supplied herself. But this was her own fault. In the meantime, she knew what she was up against, or at least what she was dealing with. Someone wanted freer access to her apartment, meaning her. The man she was about to make love to had most probably spent
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