Dave's Journey Back To Nature: Part 4

Amorous Goods: The Pendulum & Music Box

AMOROUS GOODS: THE PENDULUM [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-pendulum] A DEMON-HAUNTED PENDULUM GUIDES A MAN INTO A LIFE OF VICE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-07.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. The dreams had been getting intense since Jack returned from Canada. He always awoke with flashes of imagery: torchlight against stone pillars, the reek of incense smoke, a pair of inhuman green eyes. Also, a word ringing in his ears: "Rozrael". Jack didn't immediately make the connection between his dreams and the obsidian pendulum he bought from a store in Toronto. It was the weirdest pawn shop he had ever seen: a red brick mansion that seemed curiously out of place within the shopping district. It was called Amorous Goods, which sounded like a sex shop. When he entered, it looked more like a shabby antiques store. Its items were a curious mix of the mundane and erotic. Lamps and pill-boxes sat beside bizarre pieces of erotic artwork; statues of nude women, early twentieth century paintings of orgies. Jack really wanted the antique erotic art, but he couldn't afford it. The owner didn't seem open to haggling. But he had to get a memento of the weirdest shop in Canada. So, he picked up this obsidian pendulum, with a metal chain. It was cheap and interesting. The pendulum looked like a pyramid with a hexagonal base. He paid for it, chucked it in his satchel and left. The owner looked like he couldn't wait to see the back of him. Days later, he was back in the UK, and the life from which he had fled for a week. He returned on Saturday night, and was expected back in the office on Monday. Jack wondered if the money spent on the flight should have gone into something that could have improved his career prospects. Or if he should have spent that time doing something to get out of that job. But he had been down that path too long, and it led him straight back to where he was now; in his thirties, doing data entry, and living with his parents. He needed that holiday. Sunday night, the dreams came again. The exotic, torch lit temple. And that word: "Rozrael". He woke to see the pendulum, previously in his satchel, now on his bedside table beside his alarm clock. "The fuck!" He jolted upwards. Did he put it there? He was tired last night, maybe he forgot. He looked over at his satchel, which was still in the corner of his bedroom where he dumped it yesterday. Sitting on the bed, he picked up the pendulum, examining it in his hands. "Take me with you." Jack dropped the pendulum. He heard a voice. A female voice. Was he dreaming? He wondered if this was a side-effect of jetlag. He put the pendulum back on the table, took out a notepad and biro and wrote down "Rozrael". Amorous Goods, Toronto. One year later. Dylan entered the shop floor holding a ledger open in front of him. Behind the counter was a young woman with red shoulder-length hair, peering at a laptop. "Vikki, look at this." "Umm hmm?" "You know anything about a pendulum that uncle sold?" "Ask Marshall,' she replied, 'he knows about this stuff." "This one might be tricky," said Dylan. "What do you mean?" "Uncle sold it to someone in England." "England?" asked Vikki. "Someone came all the way from England to shop here?" "Ever heard of tourism?" Vikki slammed the laptop shut. "Goddamn it," she exclaimed. "Does this mean we'll have to pay for a flight to fucking England to get this thing back?" "Hey, relax," said Dylan. "This thing was just a cheap trinket. Could be nothing." "I hope so." They turned to see a middle-aged man with a stack of papers under his arm. Marshall seemed unremarkable in khaki chinos and a button-down shirt. He was big-built, but had developed a paunch with age. Once, he would have been physically intimidating, but he still moved with youthful energy. "I heard my name," said Marshall. "You know anything about this pendulum in the ledger?" Dylan asked. "Oh, the pendulum of Rozrael? That item has quite a history behind it." "I knew it," exclaimed Vikki. "It's cursed, isn't it?" "You could say that," said Marshall. "It houses a powerful demon." "Okay, tell us about this demon," said Dylan. Plymouth, UK. Jack had a whole morning to kill before work. He wanted to see if this pendulum was an antique, if it was worth anything. He sat before his PC with a coffee. First, he wanted to google this word he kept hearing for the past two days. Google turned up results, but they were scarce. All he could find was the name of a demon from some grimoire called Liber Virtute. There was an online archive of historical grimoires, scanned from public and private libraries across the world. This demon seemed to be on the lower end of a demonic hierarchy, nothing else to be red besides a name and a seal. While other demons had descriptions of their office and their position in the hierarchy, this one didn't seem to be worthy of description. So, he was being contacted by a demon. Or he was losing his mind. There was only one way to find out. Jack signed up to web forums frequented by occultists, people who actually practiced this stuff. He made his intro post to several of them, and then posted his request for information, along with a quick photo of the pendulum. Then he packed his rucksack and left for work. "The pendulum was created in sixteenth century Venice," Marshall explained, "on commission by an occultist named Marcilio Cellini for a merchant called Filipo d'Este. Filipo married into the family who became the Hapsburgs that ruled England since the British Empire. Filipo did not simply want money. He wanted power. "To get that kind of power, one must be a commanding presence. Filipo was simply a merchant who rode on the tails of his ancestors." "So, the only way he could get that kind of power was through magic," Vikki interjected. "Precisely. He hired Marcilio to create a talisman for this purpose. Unfortunately, he did his job a little too well. This thing housed a demon of immense power, giving her a foothold in this world. She piggy-backed on Filipo's earthly desires to establish her own kingdom." "And this demon was Rozrael?" asked Dylan. "Correct. When the she unites with the owner, her power shines through them, making them charismatic and unstoppable. She eventually was stopped when the pendulum was passed on to his eldest son. He made too many enemies in business and politics. And he slept with the wives of powerful men. One of whom had him assassinated, ending his reign, and ending Rozrael's influence." Jack's day at work was the same underpaid monotony he tolerated for years. He got off the bus at the local depot, where he worked in data entry for a communications company. Every day, for seven hours, he sat at a desk and typed in postal addresses. It was an open plan office. Thousands of black and white address labels passed his screen every day. Nearby, a huge window opened out onto an industrial landscape, where he glanced at the sun as it set each evening. Jack's attempts at leaving this job in the past had been met with a wall of silence: job applications, the occasional "informal chat" over the phone, a half-assed Linked In profile. All of which no one cared about. Every day Jack started his shift with this thought, which he kept to himself. Until he opened his rucksack, and found the pendulum at the top of the pile. He dropped the rucksack. Did he put it in there without thinking? He must have put it in there by accident. Somehow. Jack took the pendulum out, looking at it. He noticed the cluster of desks on the other side of the office where the managers carried out administrative tasks at their own computers. Among them was Sadie, striding between desks with papers in her hand, obviously busy. Sadie would have been plain and unnoticeable. However, she knew what she was doing with her hair, clothes and make-up, making the most of what she had. She had long, dark voluminous hair that framed mousy features, although her lips were full and luscious. She would flash a beautiful smile at him as he passed her in the corridors. Sadie was slim, but curvy in the right places, and she dressed in a way that accentuated her figure. Jack never forgot the Christmas Eve when the managers wore casual clothes. Sadie's tight jeans made a lasting impression on him. When she bent over the desk in front of him, his erection got so big, he had to spend his break sat at his desk. Jack absent-mindedly fingered the pendulum, thinking about that ass as Sadie walked towards his desk, a mound of papers clutched against her chest. He let the pendulum drop between his fingers, watching it swing back and forth, always in the direction of Sadie walking past. Jack looked at it, then put it back on his desk. "So, the pendulum," Vikki asked. "What's so sinister about it?" "It houses Rozrael and is used to communicate with the user," Marshall explained. "It answers simple yes or no questions. It points him in the direction of business opportunities. Sometimes, it will point to sexual opportunities. Filipo used it to judge which ladies in the Venetian courts would be open to sleeping with him." "Are you saying," asked Dylan, "that this pendulum dowses for pussy?" "Correct," Marshall smiled. "But to Rozrael, sex is a means to an end. Any domain she establishes won't be in the interests of humanity. It may be a portal between whatever hellish dimension she comes from into our world." During quiet moments, Jack would pick up the pendulum from his desk and let it swing. He noticed a pattern in its movements, always swinging in the direction of certain women. Perhaps he was just horny. Perhaps it was his imagination. He had not had sex in years. The pendulum swung in the direction of Donna, sat nearby. A Goth back in the day, she still wore band T-shirts in her thirties. Dark hair, pale skin, and impressive tits that Jack struggled not to stare at. Her big tits jutted through a black T-shirt with some obscure metal band print. Donna never showed him much attention. They never spoke. Jack never knew what to say to her. The pendulum was interested in her though. It swung in her direction, not wavering until Sadie walked past. Then it would follow Sadie, until her fine ass had sauntered around the corner. Then it would go back towards Donna, until Jack put it back on the desk, before someone noticed. His shift ended. He packed his rucksack, got up and caught the bus home. An hour later, sat at his PC desk, he logged on to see the responses to his queries that morning. Responses were few, but revealing. It turned out that the Liber Virtute had a small but dedicated following of experienced occultists, who had been experimenting with it for years. And they were happy to share their advice. "What else do we need to know?" asked Dylan. "She appears to the magician in a way that is sexually enticing. She appears as a woman, with certain features exaggerated." "Certain features?" asked Vikki. "Tits and ass, usually" Marshall replied. "Thanks for clarifying." "When she fully unites with the operator, she guides them, and her sexual power shines through them into all they meet." "How do we stop her?" asked Vikki. "You probably won't have to. In fact, I would classify this task low priority." "Low priority?" exclaimed Dylan. "A demon is trying to take over the world, and this is low priority?" "Our customer is highly unlikely to accomplish anything with the pendulum alone. He needs the grimoire containing Marcilio's notes. It tells us how to wake that demon back to life, and it tells us how to put her back down again. And it's in our vaults." "So, we're safe?" asked Dylan. "For now," responded Marshall. "We should get it back at some point, but let's focus on the real dangerous ones, the ones bought locally. Save this one for a vacation abroad." Vikki frowned and pulled out her laptop. "What did you say his name is?" Jack sat on his cheap office chair in semi-darkness. His bedroom was lit by a single beeswax candle on top of his cupboard. Illuminated by this candle was a piece of paper, on which Jack had scrawled the seal of Rozrael. In his hand was the pendulum, hanging between his fingers as he gazed at the seal. His online friends had given him a simple ritual to contact Rozrael, who was largely unknown and lacking established contact protocols. Jack was glad he didn't need the complicated, near-impossible tools that more established entities in the Liber Virtute required. Jack gazed at the seal and chanted the name over and over. He lost of count of how long this took. His eyelids drooped, blurring his view of the seal. The pendulum clattered to the fiber glass surface of the cupboard, jolting him upright. The room seemed to be lit by a golden glow. Jack swung around slowly in his office chair, and saw a light behind him. The other side of his bedroom opened out onto a bizarre scene. Where his bedroom ended was now a vast room, lit by flaming torches ensconced on huge stone pillars. A tall figure emerged from between the pillars, into the torchlight. A woman, slightly taller than Jack. She was clad in black latex, buckled and strapped across the front. She resembled a stereotypical dominatrix, her boots resounding across the stone floor. She appeared human, although unearthly. She gazed at him with bright green eyes, in a face that was inhumanly beautiful. Her should-length hair was blonde, shining with a fiery aura. Her fingers were a little too long to be human, slender with claw-like nails. She seemed too perfect, like a photoshopped pornstar come to life. Her tits were huge, straining to break free from the buckled latex. And yet she had the body of an athlete, slim, with long legs. "Rozrael?" Jack said. "Of course." She strode into his bedroom, standing a meter away. Jack stood, but remained silent. "What do you want?" she spoke in an echoing voice. "Are you the one who calls me in my dreams?" he asked. "Yes." Jack kept glancing at her tits, the cleavage behind the straps. "Why?" "I think we can work to each other's benefit. I can make you powerful." "How?" "When we unite, nobody will be able to resist you. Women will desire you. Men will fear you. This way, your status on Earth will rise." "What do you want from me?" She reached forward with a long, slender hand and brushed it down his chest, down to his crotch. Her touch was cool, electric. He let out a sharp intake of breath as she gently reached for his balls over his jeans, holding them. "Give of yourself to me," she said. "And I will give of myself to you." With her other hand, she unbuckled her top, revealing her magnificent cleavage. Huge tits burst out almost to the nipple, as her top opened down to her midriff, casting a shadow over her toned stomach. Jack was transfixed, as she ran her fingers up underneath his T-shirt, back towards his chest. His cock was hardening already, straining beneath his jeans. He needed no instruction. "It's a deal." Jack unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down, revealing a semi-erection in his black boxer shorts. Still with a hand on his chest, she pulled his boxers down with the other hand, releasing his cock and gazing at it with a smile, as she cradled his exposed balls with her other cold hand. He went fully erect immediately. She pushed him towards the bed behind him. "Sit." Jack lay back on his bed, his erect cock between him and the busty demoness. Her other hand reached down to the shaft of his cock, and she bent forward, swallowing his cock. She cradled his balls as she ran her mouth up and down his shaft, engulfing it right down to the base. He had never received a blowjob this deep before. His entire groin felt charged with a cold, fiery energy. Jack expected to shoot his load in seconds. Strangely, this blowjob was prolonged, like he wasn't allowed to cum, not just yet. He lay back as this energy engulfed his body from his groin. When he exploded in her mouth, he convulsed a few times. It felt like more than just semen leaving his body. The energy left too, and he felt empty. Jack lay back and watched her stand up from his body, releasing his spent cock from her mouth, to his thigh. She knelt between his parted legs and unbuckled her latex top further, pulling her top apart to allow her huge tits to fall out in the torchlight. Her tits were round and firm; large pink nipples with areolas that seemed stretched out by the size of her tits. Her nipples were thick and erect. The desire in him was strong, but he was tired and weak. She took his hands, pressing them to her tits. He squeezed and fondled them, feeling their weight, their smoothness. His thumbs went over her hard nipples, and they seemed oddly moist. She reached behind his head with one hand, pulling his head towards her tit. His mouth clamped eagerly over her tit, his tongue flicking against her hard nipple. It tasted faintly salty. He sucked harder, and more fluid trickled into his mouth, down his throat. He felt it build in his body. More fluid came out, and he felt his lust return. Eventually, he didn't need her to hold him. He sucked eagerly on her tit until she wrapped her arms around his head and pulled his face down between them. For a second it seemed as though he breathed in her entire body into his, before everything went dark. Jack woke up on his bed in darkness, his pants around his ankles, his stomach and chest wet with semen. The temple scene was gone. He got up from the bed, pulled his pants up and walked to the bathroom. Wincing when he turned on the light, he washed his hands. He splashed water on his face and looked in the mirror, running his hands over his forehead, his cheekbones, his jaw, like he had never seen them properly before. He liked what he saw. And he felt powerful. The next day, Jack walked into the office, as usual. But this time, things seemed different. People looked up from their desks as he walked in. Maybe it was the way he carried himself. He didn't know. He looked at the world around him with new eyes, and he saw a world ripe for the taking. Jack sat at his desk, got out his iPod and water bottle, and then the pendulum. When no one looked, he let it hang between his fingers. It swung towards the stairwell nearby. He watched the glass doors to see who it might be pointing towards. Sadie came up the stairwell towards the doors, and t

Amorous Goods: The Mask

AMOROUS GOODS: THE MASK [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-mask] A HAUNTED WARRIOR MASK TAKING FRUITS OF VICTORY AFTER DEATH. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-06.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. THE MASK. "I've been here nearly a week now, I promise I'm settled in.; Just let me know when you can come down and see the place. I'm still just trying to find this and that, to decorate the place with," Bethany told her friend on the phone. "I can't wait to see the new place, maybe throw a party," Tabitha asked. "A party? I don't know anybody here." "Never know. By the time I get there, you might even have a man, who has a friend or brother that I can hook up with, whenever I visit," Tabitha hoped. "Ha!; keep dreaming. I'll worry about a man if Mandingos batteries die when all the stores are closed." "Even Mandingo can't replace having some hot sweaty man-god thrusting inside you, as his weight presses down, breath down your neck-" "Stop that, Tabby." "Thrusting hard. Thrusting hard. Bam bam bam! That cum coats your walls." "Oh my god;� "Thrusting!" "I'm going to hang up." "Thrusty thrust," she laughed. "So I heard about this place that sells antiques, that I want to check out. I ran in to one of the employees at some farmers market, flea market thing, Dylan, I think his name was." "So some dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap?" Bethany sighed; "you know I like vintage stuff. The place is called Amorous Goods, apparently they don't just take any old junk, the owner is a collector who's very picky and I think he said that most of what was there was actually inherited to her." "So an uppity dusty ass store with ancient relics of crap." "Damn it, Tabby!" "Okay, sorry. I'm sure the place is nice. Hell if the place is that good; I might find something I like." "I'm going to check it out tomorrow." "So you going to play with Mandingo, now? Should I let you go?" "I still have to put my bed together and a few other things, he's always ready when I want him." "You really do believe that dildo is better than the real thing? Just gonna swear of men for good?" "Not for good, but for a good while, at least until masturbation can't stop the urges, then I'll get some fool and kick him out before the sun rises; if he's lucky." "I should probably get off here anyway, I gotta go to work and a hot stud should be knocking on my door soon. Tell Mandingo I said hi." Bethany looks at the piles of boxes and what unpacking is left, asking herself who she's kidding, all she wants to do is lay that mattress on the floor and feel that big veiny bastard fill her insides. With a hard defeated sigh, she makes her way to the bedroom, might as well get it over with. Cursing herself for getting such a large bed; dragging the frame pieces where she wanted them, painstakingly bolting it all together, cursing the design. Carrying and dropping in both box frames without hitting the ceiling or knocking anything over, she eye's the mattress with disgust snatching at the seemingly three hundred pound thing, flopping it across and flopping down on it. Bethany glares at the mirror sitting on the dresser, muttering "tomorrow". Bethany wriggles out of her jeans, kicking them to the floor, sitting up and pulling off her shirt, relieving her shapely tit from their constraints, flopping down with joy. Side-eyeing the light switch for still being on; tosses a shoe at it bringing darkness to the room. Rolling over to her nightstand, pulling out her number one fuck buddy; unwrapping it from its satin sheath. Kissing the tip, whispers "hello", before sliding it down her spread cleavage, rubbing the shaft across her lower lips, feeling the bulging veins, pressing harder until the friction starts to pull her lips. "You know better than that, Manny," she reached in the drawer for lube. Once lubed; she slowly pushed him in, while rubbing her clit, getting herself wet. Rubbing herself circular while Mandingo just sits in her, in no hurry to climax, closing her eyes, imagining somebody like the All State guy is working her over. Legs spread wide, Mandingo rarely slides out, reaching under her leg to give him a twist, slowly pulling him out to the tip, leaving the head inside, sliding back in with a shudder. One more time. Mandingo slides out to the head, her fingers press hard on her clit during the return, soften on the pull out, pressure and push, relent and remove. Pressure and push. Relent and remove. She struggles to catch her breath, her legs drop, scooping up on of her tit in a tight squeeze, Bethany closes her legs around Mandingo while dragging it in and out. It's veins rub against her clit, her body now on auto-pilot, mind zoned out, climax building to its peak, snapping her back to reality. A deep gasp for air, exhaled from deep within her. Rolling over to her side, Mandingo still in her, she passes out. Bethany wakes up midafternoon, giving Mandingo the side eye, making her way to the bathroom with him, to wash him off. Brunette hair in a tussle; shambling, decides to take it in the shower, contemplating round two as she soaped him down, forcing the urges away, rinsing and tossing him in the sink to dry, a sigh with her decision. Out of the shower, dried off, thrown on clothes, kicking boxes to freedom. Pulling in the small parking lot of Amorous Goods, walking in as the joyous scents play with her nostrils. "Welcome to Amorous Goods, I'm Vikki, the co-owner," without taking her eyes from her laptop, when she heard the door chime. "Hi; Dylan I think it was, was right, this place looks amazing," Bethany looked around. "That it is," Vikki glided from around the desk, "come peruse our inventory, I was just following up with one of my employees reports." "I was at this flea market thing and I talked briefly with him. He said he was looking for special items, and I think hitting on me." "Yeah. Dylan likes the fluffy girls," she smirked, leading her around the first floor. "Amorous Goods doesn't just take any 'ol junk, just because it's old, doesn't make it valuable, doesn't mean our prices aren't fair either." "That's good." "Indeed. We just don't have antiques, but antiquities, artifacts, and some this and that, trinkets. I had some boring job, and took this as a chance of passion," she exclaimed, "An ancestor of mine got this place decades ago, this mansion was a brothel in which a long ago grandmother worked at, she somehow got the place, legend speaks, she found love, the owner wouldn't let her be free, so she wooed him, got him drunk, got the deed signed over and killed him, sounds like a movie, right? Her husband was a collector and the place was perfect. For some reason my family wanted nothing to do with this place because of the history. Me and cousin chubby-chaser managed to inherit it." "Wow, that's crazy," Bethany replied, looking and inspecting things. "The crazy thing is some of this stuff is cursed, or has magic properties. I hired an Occultist; Morgana, to catalog and test items, neutralize anything too dangerous, or for customers who still want the thing, but without it's; whatever it does. Creeped out, yet?" "No, not at all, I'm looking for a bit of wall d�cor, I just moved here for a job. I love this kind of stuff, I'll probably be a return customer." "I see you eyeing that African male fertility, like you want to; have fun with it. Don't worry; I've thought about it too; gets boring sometimes. Follow me." She thinks to herself Morgana should inspect it. Vikki lead her to a rack with various mask hanging from it. "Legend states these African mask were worn by warriors, if they die in battle, their soul is said to inhabit it. Some say a woman shouldn't trifle with them, but if you pick one where he died in victory; it might help with that jungle fever," Vikki laughed. "Oh this one looks like he might have been a; Hmm; to wear that." "I'll tell you what; since you're the new girl in town and appreciate old things; forty bucks. New customer discount." "Vikki, you have a deal." "Remember; if anything not safe happens, bring it back ASAP." "I promise." After getting acquainted with the area, window shopping various stores until she found what she wanted. Satisfied with it all, Bethany stops at a local restaurant for a late lunch and probably dinner, at an outside table, she calls Tabitha. "Hey, Beth," she greeted. "You check out that place?" "I just came back from there, such interesting history if it's true. She said her great-great-great grandmother got the place, it was originally a brothel she worked at." "Isn't it some strip mall store?" "No, it's an old Victorian mansion. The funniest thing is she claimed that some of the stuff there is like haunted," Bethany laughed. "Probably just a gimmick, that's how they peddle their junk." "Well.; There was this African statue with a big cock; like half the length of Mandingo, that was slightly arousing," Bethany mused. "That's just your pussy begging for some black cock, just scoop you up some twenty something black dude, get his number, throw that Milf pussy on him, shoo him out till you need some more." "Jeeze Tabby; that's not; what; why would you;� "Yeah, as much as you need it, he'd have to move in with you." "No he would not. Why am I even discussing this?" "Here's your order, ma'am," the waiter brought her food. "Thank you." "He sounded black, get his number." "He was not and no. You're always talking about sex, maybe you need to get laid." "Honey, I get mine. The toys not at my desk at work, are collecting dust." "Should you be proud of that?" "That I get all the cock; they're proud of it, men fuck to their hearts content, brag about it, have play by plays. I'm a stud like they are. Any woman out age should be proud." "I guess you have a point. I just want one guy that can do it right, when I'm ready, and it'll be good for me." "Give that dildo a rest. I bet that waiter was checking you out." "He was not." "Are you dressed like some old gypsie woman?" "Yeah...," Beth sighs. "You know guys love that voluptuous body of yours." "Tell you what; when you come here, we'll find some good cock. I'll figure out the good spots." "That's the spirit. Can't wait." CHAPTER 2 Bethany clears and unpacks more boxes, surveying where to hang the mask, hanging opposite of the walls of the television and couch, near the doorway to the rest of the apartment. Staring at it intently, using a cleaning wipe, to rid it of dust and dinge. She wonders what the man looked like, who bare the mask in battle. He had to be buff, tall, broad, could lift her like a child, throw a spear like a bullet, and most likely put Mandingo to shame. Bethany places a hand on the mask, feeling the ebony black wood, the sharp teeth, wide joyous eyes, ready to jump in battle, eager to reap the rewards of victory. She pulls herself away from it, setting up her television stand, as she hefts the large sixty inch flat screen, cursing herself for keeping it after the breakup. A sensation of hands ran down her shoulders, to her elbows, wrapping around her hands, cutting the weight of the thing in half. Gone once the television was placed, briefly returning firmly around her waist as she steadied herself, dissipating. A chill down her spine, quickly shaking it off as something that actually happened. "Weird. Maybe I'm just tired; ugh; the cable and internet guy is scheduled for eight, so he'll probably be here near noon. Whelp, better get some rest, who knows when he'll get here," she tells herself. Bethany strips down, readying her shower, eyeing herself in the mirror; her curvy figure, large chest, turning to see her plump rear end, rubbing a hand down her thick thighs, cupping and lifting her stomach, flesh caressing around her fingers. Guys really like this, all this, she thinks. Big tits and fat asses, sure, but everything else? Even a thirty-eight year old body like this? Maybe I should flaunt it before it all hits the floor. She steps in the shower, grabbing her trusty loofa, pouring Shear Twilight on it, letting the water wet her whole body, the heat feeling good on her back, the individual streams tempting her nipples. As her loofa runs through every crease between her soft skin, it feels as she's being watched. She cradles her tit in her arms, staring through the glass, seeing nothing. Taking her time, musing about the idea that there may be a long list of men waiting to ravish her body, paying close attention to her tit, slowly wiping each one, feeling their individual weights, as if she's unfamiliar, carrying on to her stomach, noticing the give in it, with the slightest pressure, lower, the garden. She never concerned about her little pooch, with what it protects, wishing Mandingo was here. She moves on to her butt, lifting each heavy cheek, cleaning the creases, sweeping their surface making note of their contour, spreading them, gliding the soap. She watches the soap run down her thighs, across dimples, they shake a little aa she changes position. Finally letting the water run it all away, a new life, a new chance. Turning off the shower, reaching to open the glass door, noticing two large handprints in the fog. "Oh yes, Mandingo, you fill me completely," she thrust it inside her. Bethany's legs are splayed out, her free hand travels across her body, while the other forcibly shoves her dildo in her soaked pussy. Through downplaying herself, the desire for a bit of rough masturbation before her modest nature tries to take hold, grew. "You; black; king," she gasp. Her moans and grunts echo with the sound of Mandingo slipping in and out of her, bouncing off the bare walls. She grabs and sucks on her own nipple, holding her tit in a firm grip. She nearly bites it, as she reaches climax, grunting, breathing through her teeth. "one more; why can't you fuck me doggy style, Mandingo? I knew I should a had you in the shower." Bethany runs the length of it on her clit several times, trying to jump start another, closing her legs around it, sliding the wet thing in and out of her thighs. Moaning softly to herself, she opens her legs, pushing it balls deep in her, thrusting hard enough, her body rocks with the strokes, working her arms. Her stomach shifts, tits rocking. "Fuck; fuck I'm sweating. But damn; feels so good." She starts fingering herself, pressing hard, getting closer and closer to the goal, twisting the dildo on the strokes. Sending herself in to another with loud yelps, grip loosened on Mandingo, her fingers slowly stop twitching on her clit. She lay there dazed a moment, trying to put Mandingo on her nightstand. A wave passes over her body, something moves her hair from her face, drifting down her cheek, another grazes her tit, moving down her side, stopping at her hip, moving over the top of her thigh. The other slides down her cleavage to her stomach, like some aftercare. Her eyes start to close, the feeling vanishes when she rolls over. Still feeling good about herself, refreshed from last night, waits for the cable installer, drinking coffee in an Asian styled silk robe, not tied that tight, showing a peek at her deep cleavage. Watching what broadcast stations her flat screen will pick up. A knock on the door. "Cable man," a voice called. "ten forty-three," she looks at her phone. Opening the door to a rather tall black man in a grey t-shirt, he gives her a quick once over. "Bethany Jackson?" Oh yes, hello," she could feel his eyes clawing at her chest. "My names Ray, welcome to the neighborhood," he steps in with a bag. "You live around here, too? I guess that would make it easier if I had problems." "Nah, I just seen the boxes, where would you want the modem and router set up, once we get that setup, I can get the cable together." She looks at him for a moment, picturing him naked, taking her slow in the bedroom. "Ms. Bethany...?" "Oh! Sorry, I uh; let's do it in the bedroom, put it in the bedroom," she blushed. Ray gives her a smirk, kneeling to his bag, pulling out cables and two boxes, glancing up at her. She leads him to the bedroom, pointing to a corner; "right here." He notices the large black dildo on the floor, looking at her with a raised eyebrow; "rough night?" "Fuck, I'm sorry; I thought I put that away," quickly bending over to grab it. She glances up to catch him staring right down her robe, she quickly opened her night stand, dropping Mandingo, slamming it shut. "Sorry about that." "It's no problem, it's your apartment; I'm just visiting. I've seen a few of those and a bit more," he laughs. "It was not supposed to be there, I swear," blushing again. "Ms. Bethany, I've had women offer me sex to try and get free cable or internet, they'd disappear and come back naked," he laughed, "I promise it's fine." "If that happened, I think I'd pay more," she covers her mouth "sorry, I; I'll just stay in the living room before something else stupid happens." Ray watches her hurry past him, her robe draped on her hips, ass jiggling as she leaves the room, "god damn," he mutters. Ray step in to the living room ten minutes later; "well that's all good to go, now the cable." "See; robe still on," she replies. "I'm surprised it isn't tied all the way to your armpits," Ray laughed. "I'll just leave you to it," she stands. "You're fine, I promise. Ms. Bethany, I'm a professional." "Beth is fine. I'm just so embarrassed." "You don't have anything to be embarrassed about." "It's just; I moved here from another city, and it's been so l, nope, not gonna stick my foot in my mouth," she sips her coffee. "Honestly Beth, and I mean no disrespect; you are attractive. I'm sure under that robe is nice. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I swear I usually keep my mouth shut. I don't want to get fired over sexual harassment." "No! I won't say anything, I don't want you to lose your job. It's my apartment, you said it. I don't want to come off like those women you were talking about." "I can tell, you looked like you were going to sit in your car, if you had to," he laughed. "I probably would have. You think I'm attractive?" "I do, you look good. I didn't get this job to hook up

Amorous Goods: The Flute & The Magic Pen

AMOROUS GOODS: THE FLUTE [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-flute] AFTER DINNER CONVERSATION PIECE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-05.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. THE FLUTE Jeff had recently joined our small team of international shipbrokers. He was new in town and single. I knew he would soon sort out his social life, but he would be lacking some home comforts in the short term, so I invited him to our house for dinner one Friday after work. My wife, Hazel, is a wonderful woman and an excellent cook. After a superb dinner she offered to tidy up while Jeff and I went through to our lounge for a wee dram. I got out the Glenfarclas and poured us each a generous measure. "I see you have a flute of some sort on top of your mantelpiece" Jeff observed. "Do you play it at all?" "Not really," I replied. "I use it from time to time, but I don't actually play it. It's not really for playing in the normal sense of making music. To tell you the truth, it's a magical Japanese shakuhachi flute. I got it years ago from an old guy who ran a curiosity shop full of antiques and bric-a-brac. I think the shop was called Amorous Goods." Jeff grinned and settled back on the Chesterfield sofa where he was relaxing. "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind it?" he enquired. "There sure is," I replied. "Shakuhachi flutes are traditionally made from bamboo or cane, but this one is said to be made from the wood of one of the six ancient zelkova trees of old Roppongi. It's a district of Tokyo that's famous for its nightlife nowadays. Of those six old trees, three were cut down around a hundred years ago and the others were destroyed in the Second World War. The story goes that the six trees were invested with the spirits of six witches and the wood from those trees has magical powers." "And you believe that?" "I was skeptical at first, but the shop owner arranged a demonstration of the flute's magic. The old guy told me if I blew just one note on that flute, the next woman who came into the shop would give me a blow job. I had to pay a deposit of five hundred dollars then he let me use the flute." I paused and took a sip of the whisky, cherishing my memories. "From the look on your face, presumably it worked," said Jeff. "Less than a minute after I blew a note on the flute an attractive young woman came into the shop. She saw me holding the flute and without saying a word she dropped to her knees in front of me, unzipped my trousers and fished out my cock. As far as I'm concerned, any blow job is a good blow job, but I can honestly say that was one of the best blow jobs I have ever had. She licked and sucked me until I came like an express train. She swallowed it all, tucked me back in, zipped me up, thanked me profusely and left the shop." "So did you buy the flute?" he asked. "You bet I did." I said with a smile. "The five hundred dollar deposit was non-refundable on condition the old guy could prove the magic flute worked, but I still had to pay another five hundred bucks on top of that." "In other words, you got a blow job and a small wooden flute for a thousand bucks?" "Yes indeed and it's been well worth it." "You're kidding!" Jeff exclaimed skeptically. "I bet it's never worked since you tried it out in that shop." "Jeff, I can honestly say it's worked every single time since then," I said, "That's why it has a place of honor on our mantelpiece. I wouldn't say this to just anyone, but I can let you try it for yourself." "You want me to borrow your flute?" he asked. "No," I replied. "The flute stays here. You can have a shot at it right now, but you must agree not to breathe a word to anyone about it." "Okay," he said, standing up and taking the flute from its resting place on the mantelpiece. "It would be rude of me to turn down your invitation." Glancing at me almost suspiciously, as if he was expecting some sort of practical joke, he sat back down on the sofa and blew a squeaky note on the instrument. A few moments later Hazel came through the door from the hallway, looked at me enquiringly and then saw Jeff holding the flute. Without hesitation she went over to the sofa, got down on her knees in front of Jeff, unzipped his trousers and got his cock out. She leaned over his crotch and started to lick and suck his cock enthusiastically. He leaned backwards over the arm of the sofa in an effort to give her easier access, grinned happily, raised his eyebrows at me and mouthed the word "Wow!" I took the opportunity to recharge our whisky glasses while Hazel polished Jeff's knob, bringing him to a gasping finish. Afterwards she tucked his cock back in his trousers and zipped them up, got to her feet, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, thanked Jeff and smiled at me as she headed back to the kitchen. "Are you okay with that?" Jeff asked quietly. "No problem as far as I'm concerned," I replied. "Hazel absolutely loves giving blowjobs. Very occasionally a special guest gets to enjoy a happy ending after dinner. If Hazel likes them enough I let them toot the flute. It's just a good excuse for some adult fun." Jeff grinned from ear to ear. "Well, as far as I'm concerned that was truly a magical experience, but the real magic is not in the flute. It's in the art of the blowjob!" "Exactly," I replied. "The flute on the mantelpiece is my way of acknowledging my wife's special talent. No doubt she will join us soon enough for a drink or two before you leave. Just be aware though, like many magicians, Hazel prefers not to discuss her magic trick after a show." To be continued, in the series, Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]; a collaborative storyline for Literotica AMOROUS GOODS: THE MAGIC PEN [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-magic-pen] ERRANT PENMANSHIP DISRUPTS A MARRIAGE. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-05.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Nikki Feingold peered over her menu, its calfskin folder soft and supple in her hands, the offerings transcribed in an elegant Garamond font. "Dessert?" Her dark eyebrows arched. Leonard Reminger leaned back, feeling the tightness of his belt against his waist. "I'm not sure Nikki, the temptation is huge, and we don't get to do this very often, but I am quite frankly stuffed. Filled to the gunwales. Popping at the seams." "In a good way," he added, seeing the hint of disappointment in her face. "Often? This is only our first time here. But yes," her expression recovering, "I know what you mean." Alo's atmosphere was exactly what Leonard had hoped it would be, one of the finest restaurants in Toronto. Expensive, far above their normal night out, candlelight not so low that you couldn't read the menu, but soft enough to set a mood. And quiet, a lovely quiet hum of the other's diners' voices that didn't intrude, it was possible to have a whispered conversation with your paramour and still hear each other. Paramour, Leonard rolled that word around in his head. Yes, that was precisely the right term. And on this, their fourth wedding anniversary, that characterization was still accurate, redolent, meaningful. Nikki's eyes went back to her menu. "Why don't we split something, maybe on the lighter side? The baked apple slices in cognac with clotted cream perhaps?" suggested Leonard. Nikki smiled back. Leonard had hit the perfect note. "Yes, that sounds wonderful." She was pleased he would meet her halfway, even though she knew she might end up with three-quarters of the dessert herself. One of Leonard's many appealing aspects was his willingness to compromise, even indulge. She gave a little shiver, she had been so lucky to have met him back at university, that first time that she saw him at Angela's party, so well dressed compared to the other students at the gathering, understated and not flashy. With those hazel eyes that seemed to stare into you, the shoulders squared, no academic question that came up that night to cause the slightest fluster, his answers thoughtful, thorough, in fact, she had noted even then, unlawyerly. That was it, he was the quietest, least rapacious of all the other law students she had met at university, most of them courtesy of her then roommate, Angela, a law student herself, who had introduced her to Leonard that fateful night. But now, of course, during the day those hazel eyes scanned corporate contracts, torts case briefs, and other impossibly mundane, although lucrative, documents. She was glad her own work involved teaching Renaissance architecture at the city's second university, York, and not in a corporate office. When they were done, Leonard beckoned their waiter. "If I may, I have a large favor to ask." He held the menu in his hands, Nikki couldn't help looking at his long elegant fingers, ones capable of so many duties, intimate or purely functional. The young waiter, perhaps early twenties, bowed his head respectfully, and Nikki noted for the hundredth time how easily Leonard wielded his charm, all the more effectively for being completely authentic. "Tonight is our wedding anniversary. The dinner was outstanding, many thanks. Might we be able to take tonight's menu home? I'd be pleased to reimburse you for your consideration. But it would be most special to us." He gazed at Nikki, who smiled shyly. The waiter bowed. "Please allow me to check, I will be right back." "Leonard, such a sweet thought!" Nikki beamed. "It never would have occurred to me to ask. October fourth, four years ago! How symmetrical, how Jungian!" The waiter returned with the bill. "Please accept the menu with our compliments and wishes for many more years of marriage. We are honored you chose us for your destination tonight." "Shall we walk home?" asked Leonard, when they had made their way to the street. "I know we were going to Lyft it, but it's probably only a thirty or forty minute stroll. And I'd love to settle the food a little, before sleep." Nikki smiled up at him. "Yes, of course. I'd love to have you settled a bit, for later," giving Leonard a slightly wanton look. "We cannot have an anniversary without some other celebrating." Her taffy colored hair was done up in a chignon, and Leonard thought her pale rose-colored evening dress, tight about her waist, could have charmed the venom out of a cobra. Her soft inviting neck, uncovered by her hair, could still produce a frisson of excitement that ran up and down his spine, even now, six years after first meeting her. That the dimple on her left cheek appeared so easily when she smiled was a distinct bonus. "Excellent, then." They chose a slightly more roundabout route than they might have picked otherwise, the October evening air possessed of that last bit of summer warmth before Toronto's often abrupt shift to much colder weather. On a leafy street paralleling one of the main streets of the city, residential with businesses only at the corners, Nikki spotted an unusual dwelling. "Len, look at that! What a stately place, in the middle of the block." This was an older part of town, many of the buildings of Victorian era with expansive and well-tended yards, nothing built later than perhaps 1920. But the object of Nikki's attention would have stood out regardless. Unlike the other houses on the block, all two stories in height, with lawns sloping down to the street and manicured shrubbery, this place loomed. Dark gray, an almost black exterior, with a slate mansard roof, it sat forbiddingly in a tangle of trees, which shaded every corner. A spiked fence surrounded the front section, and as they crossed the street and approached, Leonard pointed out a sign near the granite steps up to it from the street. "Most Curious Goods," he red. "Hours 12-8 except Sundays." What an odd formulation thought Nikki, wrinkling her nose. She looked in the windows, struck by the intriguing light that came from within. "Len, let's take a look." Indeed the front door was cast wide, the light spilling from the threshold inviting one in from the street. "Good evening," intoned a voice as they passed through the door into a foyer. Leonard looked about, startled, and was greeted by the slightest bow from a tall man in a dark suit. "Please have a look around. We are open until the top of the hour." The man's face was guileless and open, in that middle-of-the-country way that contrasted with bustling Montreal or cosmopolitan Vancouver. His movements were careful but informal. "Welcome to Most Curious Goods, I'm Dylan," he said by way of introduction, "please let me know if you have any questions." Leonard nodded and they passed from room to room, each one seemingly arranged as a theme. The first, to their right as they entered, could have been the drawing room from an English townhouse in the early part of the Twentieth century. The bricked mantle shelf held knickknacks of every description, Montgomery mugs, silver candlesticks, wooden birds and small animals, a taxidermy owl, sitting proudly at one edge. Nikki admired a small secretary's desk, dark wood with fine inlay, little cubby holes for envelopes, documents. Another room seemed to be Oriental, in the old British sense of the East, with carvings of snakes, intricate carpets, exotic animal heads attached to the wall, fangs and antlers on display. They passed from room to room, finding one towards the back of the house of remarkable interest. Leonard examined a balance scale, perhaps a foot wide, with small brass weights on each balance plate. They were metric units, and the label attached to the piece indicated it was early nineteenth century, from Nuremberg. "Look at his!" Nikki pointed to a narrow grandfather's clock, the hands of polished brass, its woodwork striking in both intricacy and color. Leonard was drawn to a large table, the sort found in old libraries, with a smooth dark wooden surface. A place was set for a writer to work, a typewriter, blotter, and a fountain pen of exotic polished wood. Leonard held the pen in his hand, its weight pleasing, with a substantial easy-to-grasp thickness to it. Removing the top revealed an elegant golden nib, and the name of the manufacturer, Faustographia, Leipzig, engraved in a small, tidy script. "Mid-nineteenth century," said the male voice that had greeted them on entering. Leonard started, so engrossed with the pen he had been unaware Dylan had followed them into the room. "We are unsure of its original provenance, but it was last owned by the Earl of Northumberland. Would you like to try it out?" Leonard was tempted but shook his head. "We're just looking at the moment, we noticed your place quite by accident while passing." Leonard was not sure why he declined the offer, as the urge to write with the pen, while he held it in his hand, had been strong. "But we still would like to poke around a few minutes more, before home beckons." Dylan inclined his head. "Of course." They admired some paintings, a fin de si�cle lamp, and reluctantly left for home. Nikki's eyes were shining. "What a striking shop! I would never have expected to find it there." Their last steps up to their door were weary, welcome. Leonard arranged the menu on the corner table in their dining room that held their silver. He could still conjure up the taste of the apple-cognac slices. "Thanks for a wonderful meal, Leonard, that was sweet of you." Nikki sidled up alongside him. "My thanks to you. I could not possibly be as happy in my life without you at my side." Their kiss was short, anticipatory. After final bathroom ablutions, Leonard found Nikki spread out in bed, covers tucked to the side. Her legs were wide, she had taken the time to array her hair in a fan-shape on the pillows. Early on Leonard had said how ravishing she looked that way, her long hair loose, unruly and wanton. Leonard smiled. "Just the way you like it," Nikki whispered. "Hurry get your clothes off and bring me your erection." She wiggled her hips. Leonard complied, and knelt to her side. His cock had grown half stiff in anticipation while he removed shirt, trousers and drawers, and after dangling his cock for a few minutes in Nikki's soft limpid mouth, he was fully hard. He knelt at her notch, already damp, and fingered and licked her arousal to an almost unsustainable condition. He had learned early on this was always the best way to proceed before entering her. Their copulation was swift, explosive, and exhausting. Leonard lay on top of her, thinking there was no contentment greater than when he could feel his cock softening inside his Nikki. They kissed, and she rubbed his back and bum, as he felt the fluids surrounding his cock, within her, warm and comforting. While the next day meant work for both of them, Nikki arranged to leave her office early after lunch and was back at Most Curious Goods the next afternoon. "We were in yesterday," she explained breathlessly to Dylan, "my husband and I. I've come for the pen we admired." "Yes, I remember." Nikki could not quite decipher the clerk's expression, perhaps amused, maybe conspiratorial, but more likely just pleased at a potentially successful transaction. "You must take this ink as well," insisted Dylan. "Comes along with the pen." He held a silver polished ink bottle with a handsome cap. "You know of course the nib is gold alloy, yet must only have non-acidic ink. This is a special formulation." Dylan demonstrated the proper way to fill the pen, spoke in general terms of its care and use. "Thank you," she said, as she handed over her bank card. Although none of the items in the shop had indication of monetary value, she had known the actual price of the pen would be dear, and she had winced at the final amount. But worth it, she couldn't help thinking. Dylan bowed as she left. "May your enjoyment be complete." Su

Amorous Goods: The Loving Fervor

AMOROUS GOODS: THE LOVING FERVOR [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-loving-fervor] HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO FOR THOSE YOU LOVE? Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-04.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Note to readers: Story contains religion themes and horror/bloody scenes. If that offends/disgusts you I recommend skipping this one. Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. A man went down the street at night. He checks each side before crossing it. He was looking at this pretty gal on her twenties wearing fashion ripped jeans, gray hoodies and casual no-lace shoes. She went by, distracted with her earbuds and shaking her long hair alongside her hips. Her milky white skin contrasted with her dark hazel eyes. She disappeared for a second among so many pedestrians and; "Huh! Sorry!" A guy on a white shirt bumped him out of distraction. "It's okay. Excuse, me;� He pushed the man trying to look around for her, to no avail. "Maybe she entered one of these stores? Damn;� He was working up his courage to go talk to her. The other man had short hair, average body and he was around thirties. He had just sent a message to that same girl. "Got it." Minutes later, both were laughing at their successful routine and having a beer on some far off corner pub. "You gotta admit, that guy was hypnotized." "You're improving, that's true." "Improving? I bet I could snatch his wallet as soon as he decided to stop me. Or better yet, he had it given to me as soon as I asked." "Better for you if he doesn't remember your face. You still got a lot to learn." The man opened up the pickpocketed wallet. He produced a condom. "He he he, what a loser," he said. "Ace, that's gross, throw it away." He pulled wallet's money and offered the girl. "Here's your slice, Tea." She was new to street crime, but she annoyed him so much in order to join him, he concluded that it's easier having her as a partner. She was probably going through a phase, trying to piss off her parents or something. Still, if she wanted in, she'd better stick by his rules and avoid getting caught. He learned his rules the hard way. He came in and out of the island sometimes. He ended up with a tattoo on his chest over his heart. Ace of Spades. Once it was a death threat, he now showed it around with pride illustrating his stories from prison he told women. Tea was one of those, although she wanted to impress him too and stand out from the others. Young and greedy, she wanted to be part of his world, so she could be with him. However, much of these routines are new to her. Right now she looked skeptically at him checking some three or four credit cards... "You know these got unhackable chips, right?" She voiced her look at him while taking a sip from a long neck. "I'm not after the chips. These two got proximity payment options. That sucker won't notice they're at our disposal until tomorrow, when paying for his nightlife's in downtown." He put the two credit cards back on his pocket already with other three from more two people. She blank stared while figuring out how he knew those cards got these functions only from looking at them. Meanwhile, he checked his phone. Some messages later he got his bottle and went out of the pub. Tea looked at him leaving, dropped a twenty dollar bill over the table and followed him. He was planning something big this time. He knew a dealer from out of town who was always looking for something rare and valuable to buy. Sooner that day a curious newspaper article featured an auction at a previously abandoned mansion, now revitalized. That auction would probably have some exquisite antiques to offer. "Would you care to say where are we going?" "What's the difference, Tea? We got money to spend, time to go shopping." "Great. You never tells me your whole plan. How are we supposed to work together?" "You just need to trust me." "Nobody should ever trust you;� Indeed, Ace is the classic bastard. He got fed up with life in general. Lone wolf kind of guy. He didn't care much for having a partner around. Still, he thought Tea's persistence about getting in the game to be naive and stupid. He couldn't help to feel sorry for her. "Let me see what you got!" Tea took his still unlocked phone from his hand and checked the messages. She read: "What you got for me? Let's meet tomorrow. Same place and time." "Who's this?" "My contact, I'm gonna take today's shopping to him." Ace got back his phone and called an Uber. "So this job's big! If you told me earlier I'd have myself something more appropriate to wear." "You're looking the way I like most." Ace gave her a deep kiss that took her by surprise. "Dressed to get fools on the streets robbed." She slapped him hard in the arm. They embraced each other there in the street, making passionate love, showing no discretion. Tea disappeared in his arms, as she was considerably smaller than him. Sometimes it was easier for her to kiss his chest instead of his lips. He loved pulling her up by the ass so she both could see him eye to eye and be in his arms. She caressed his sharp hair and stubble beard, he sniffed her neck and ears, letting his breath tickle her. They gave a long and resounding french kiss moving their bodies still clothed... "Mr. Feirn?" Said the driver. Ace, his kissing interrupted, replied with a deadly look in his eyes. He hated that name and his bad timing. "Call me Ace," he said while they both went in the back of the car, still making out. The driver didn't make a sound and drove them to the mansion shaking his head thinking about his own life. The mansion was located on downtown border. Many years in disarray had brought the heir some trouble with fixing it back to operational. Moreover, that night, running an auction, liquidating items of unknown value or background, dealing with so many strangers all at once could easily overwhelm any regular person. However, this lucky descendant was anything but regular. Vikki is a dedicated and perseverant woman. She had run into many setbacks already with this auction and still got energy to be arguing with this slender man, the auctioneer. "Ma'am, I apologize, but certain items weren't appraised to the minimum bid required. They don't even cover our premium." "What do you mean? I thought I hired you gentlemen in order to liquidate all assets found in the house, followed by the house itself." "I beg your pardon. Take a look at these items. A magic 8-ball? An ordinary pair of red cowboy shoes? A common pen?" "I understand they aren't your common daily catalog material. Still, they're all part of the collection!" "Unless they have any certification from a specialist, I'm afraid my hands are tied." Vikki sighed. That night wasn't being very productive. "Ma'am, excuse me. Where should we put these?" Said one of the auction assistants carrying a cart loaded with three wooden boxes with descriptions to peculiar simean figurines. "Oh; Hmm.. These weren't appraised yet. Please, leave them in the back, I'll deal with them later." She turned back to the auctioneer realizing he left to the stage. Most people were already waiting in the improvised, but neatly decorated conference room, right next to the main hall. Before she could have him aside and finish the discussion, another assistant poked her softly. "I'm sorry, ma'am. We got a problem at the entrance with our guest list. A couple is making a fuss about it and demanding to see the manager. I tried to reason with them, but they won't budge." She went for a soft facepalm and responded: "Fine, let me check the front door, see what I can do. Could you please check the coffee break? I need the canapes ready after the first four items are sold. Don't forget to showcase the other items in that room." "I'll make sure everything's ready, ma'am. Excuse me;� The assistant disappeared down the hall. She went for the main door. "I'm sorry, but I don't happen to find your names on the list. That's why I asked for identification in first place. I'm just trying to help." "Oh you gonna regret that, you hear me?" A fancy blond young woman gesticulated shaking her head vigorously. "I know people who knows people! Your company's cancelled already!" Her boyfriend knew better to stay quiet. He was used to be embarassed like that. "I'm so sorry, ma'am! First of all, good evening. My name is Vikki, I'm supervising the auction. I understand you wanted to see me?" "Yes! This horrible host states I'm off the list! Do you know who I am?" "I'm so sorry, we have trouble with printing the list today, entirely our fault, please, come in!" The slim young lady dressed in a sideboob revealing front-only flashy blue dress walked chin-up while passing through the assistant holding the Q-Cord. Her boyfriend in a dark grey texudo followed her right after getting a numbered paddle. Vikki and the receptionist exchanged looks, only to realize next in line was this casual dressed couple looking at them in the exact same way. "Good evening, I'm sorry for that, it's been a colorful night so far;� "We get it," said Tea holding her laugh with a grin face. "I must say, you two might get looked down by guests if you're interested in joining the auction," Vikki said. "We don't mind pests like that couple," answered Ace in a condescending tone. "Call me Ace and this is my girlfriend, Tea." Vikki handed them a paddle gesturing the receptionist to just ignore the guest list. "Glad to meet you two! Follow me, please. I may show you something you could be interested along the way;� The couple casually stroded inside the main hall, following that gorgeus woman, dressed in a complete black tailleur, pen skirt, stockings, black heels and all. Her earrings jiggled with her steps, her improvised hair bun serving as reference among people coming and going through the collection display, wandering around. Most entrepreneurs, collectors, investors in general. Voices echoed in the corridor like a low buzz during sunday's morning before church services. "I've been considering keeping the mansion," Vikki said, turning around to wait for those two. "You should. I think the mansion suits you." Ace commented while checking up some items behind glass cases. "Do I look that old?" "Not old, classy." Tea elbowed him hard, her face as red as tomatoes. "Oh, thank you! Appearances can be deceiving. Actually, this mansion here is far from what I'm used to." Vikki continued to lead the way. "Really? Because from looking at your collection you must come from a wealthy family." Tea noted avoiding falling behind. She was already regreting not changing at least her wardrobe, looking at so many fancy dresses, high heels and crystal decoration of the estate. On their way, more high appraised jewelry was displayed. Rare Sapphic earrings from last century, a misterious pendant encased in a glass box from the other side of the world, a pair of leather glove supposedly from Old West's era. These and many others already tagged "sold", but some yet to be presented. "That wasn't in my plans to get all this overnight. I wasn't acquainted to my dead uncle. In fact, my life came to a halt so I could adress this. I'm in no position to complain, I mean, money is always welcome. But I do get that feeling like the girl on a sea shore realizing she've just hit jackpot with all those fossils. I'm yet to discover what they all are." At the end of the tour through the collection in exhibition, she turned to them. "Well, I know this isn't much. I still have to go through more crates and have the items appraised before organizing a catalog for next auction," said her pointing to many large wooden boxes. "Fragile" and "Special handling" written in english and a couple more languages. Stamps from Iraq, Mali, Tasmania, Equator were on some standing out from the stack. "I'll leave you at the auction's door. If you happen to close a deal, I'll be happy to help you two with your acquisition." From the next room, a smack on the stand with the gavel and another item was sold to an old man with docile featured face. He became the owner of a BDSM babydoll piece known to have been previously used by a black widow murderer, who became famous by her stunts seducing men. But that's another story... "And now, ladies and gentlemen, before our coffee break, I'd like to present you one last item. This is our featured object from the Far East!" A couple of helpers with gloves pushed a cart and lifted a stone box, lid opened and tilted so people could admire its content. A simple, yet well polished anklet, tagged from Bhutan, dated around third century AD. Suddenly, entire audience went from profound awe to deep silence. The tall auctioneer in the expensive suit proceeded, after carefully reading the details and repositioning his glasses: "This rare item made of jade beads with details covered in gold is called the 'Anklet of Gunihalitva'. The Anklet was actually banned by the government from bhutanese soil after a sad incident occured soon after it's discovery near Ura's archaelogical site. According to local traditions, this item is cursed by the forbidden cult of Kulaprikun, but it is also the last piece of history about it." Tea yawned maybe too loud. Ace smiled agreeing with her. The slim young lady from the scene at the door couldn't hold her anxiety and curiosity anymore: "Why is this item cursed? What incident?" The auctioneer moved only his eyes from over his glasses: "After our dear missed patron of arts," and pointed to a big wall portrait of Vikki's former relative sitting with a penetrating stare and a cat in his lap, "diligently found its hidden location and lead the excavation that recovered it from its former resting place, this item supposedly spread a disease of some sort, causing many deaths and mass hysteria. However, we made sure that this item is free of any sort of germ." Ace from the middle of the crowd asked "Is the Anklet evil then?" in a cynical way. After cleaning his throat, he resumed his reading: "This item seems to represent the commitment to sexuality. Gunihalitva was a deity dedicated to obsession and lascivity. His cult originally intended to reach deeper spirituality," pausing to a subtle hint of disgust, "through practicing the most vivid, intense, last longing sexual intercourses they could. It was truly a one of a kind religious movement in history." Now, demonstrating with other photos projected behind the auction block, he continued: "This item has many inscribings, some in sanskrit, some in other strange language. It refers to the cult everlasting commitment to their cause, even in the afterlife." The photos showed a magnified inscribings in each bead, some shots of the piece over a white surface and the certification of origin. After a pause he continued: "Without any more questions, I believe we may begin. The initial price for this wonderful unique piece is set to five thousand;� Ace turned to Tea. "I know it's soon to say, but this might be the one I'm looking for. Small, hard to describe, easy to counterfeit. Not commonly seen on a black market, I believe." Tea contemplated for a moment. "Do you think we can afford the price if it goes too high?" Ace nodded. People were already bidding. One female voice stood up in the crowd. It was the blue dress girl, yet again provoked into having an exclusive item for herself. Her boyfriend wasn't very keen, but he was used to concede and spoil her. When Ace bid twenty five grand, most bidders backed from the competition. Except for her. "Twenty-seven!" she yelled in a high-pitched fancy note. "Thirty!" "Thirty-three!" The auctioneer was getting excited to see their back and forth. He discreetly loosened his tie a little while gasping for air and repeating the bids. Tea recognized her and made an ugly face at that rich-bitch spoiled brat. "She think she's better than us, just because she got money?" She whispered to herself. She hugged ace and raised his paddle's hand, saying "Thirty-five thousand!" with powerful and piercing acute voice. Ace covered his ears on a reflex action. The girl turned to her, despiteful, and raised her paddle again. "Thirty. Eight. Thousand!" One could clap between her pauses. "Forty thousand!" Tea lost her good sense and started having reckless fun by now. Ace looked at her, eyes wide opened. "Forty thousand!" The auctioneer completed. "Going once!" "Forty five Thousand!" The boyfriend took the paddle from the girl after that. "Fifty thousand!" - Tea screamed, people around laughed at the amusement. "Going once! Going twice! Sold! To the loving couple for impressive fifty thousand! You two must really be into oriental collection;� Said the auctioneer trying to regain people's attention while everybody around cheered. "Nice job. You burned down all money on the first item." said Ace in pessimism. "Why do you care? The money isn't ours;� "Problem is: I intended to check the others too. Until you decided to show off to that Stacy that is;� "Whatever, we needed to use all those credit cards! That's what I did! Don't start grumbling now, we gotta go!" They sought after Vikki, looking for a quick way to obtain their new acquisition. She wasn't far, but she was attending some call. A couple of minutes later and she pointed them upstairs, to an office room. They anxiously stared at each other, worried about closing the deal. They whispered a little about their plans to tail out of there and pass the object on as soon as possible, when Vikki abruptly entered the office. "Hello, again! I was informed you fell for the Anklet upfront, nice choice. Ace and; Tea, am i right?" Tea went first: "Yes. Well, we really appreciate your attention and all, but we wanted that piece so we could leave. We liked the event very much, but we're in a short schedule;� Meanwhile, Vikki went for her chair, fixing her short pen skirt over her stocks. She unlocked her computer and continued. "I understand. However, we have some papers to go through, and the registration within the auction company;� "Well, uh, we went for a higher price in order to avoid; Complications, yes?" Ace completed. "I know this might not be common practice, but we ask kindly that you 'facilitate' things to us, okay?" Vikki looked at them dead in the eyes. She wasn't up for any trouble nor cutting corners. Still, she was going for more than she bargained for on that night. Ponder

Amorous Goods: Decisionmaker & Dirty Duchess

AMOROUS GOODS: THE DECISION MAKER [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-the-decision-maker] YOUNG MAN AT A CROSSROADS GETS HELP. Based on a post by ShowTime8 [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-gaudus]. Listen to the Podcast [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods1-03.mp3] at Explicit Novels [https://feeds.feedburner.com/explicitnovels]. https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg [https://archive.org/download/amorous-goods/AmorousGoods.jpg] Prologue: A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to the only remaining relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. This 18 part series is devoted to many of the stories of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods [https://www.literotica.com/s/amorous-goods-a-lit-anthology-series]. DECISIONS. Tom liked to go for long walks when he was making a difficult decision. Right now he had been walking for two hours with no end in sight. His girlfriend, Dorothy, had practically given him an ultimatum. He needed to propose soon or she was going to move on. While it was true that they had been dating for nearly a year, Tom was not convinced that she was a good fit. Dorothy was without a doubt a responsible driven woman, who would go far in the world. She was an executive assistant for one of the partners in the accounting firm where he worked. She always dressed sharp and was very attractive. <--more--> She was 5'7" and 24 years old, whereas Tom was 5'10" and 26. They met at work and started dating. Not exclusively at first, but for the last six months they had been monogamous. She wouldn't agree to sex until he agreed to stop seeing anyone else, which wasn't an unreasonable request. The sex was good, but not the best he'd ever had. Dorothy not only seemed reserved, she was distant during sex. Perhaps she'd had better sex before and was feeling the same disconnect he was. More likely, she just didn't like sex and was going through the motions to satisfy him. Of course, he just couldn't know. He wondered if he was willing to spend the rest of his life with a mediocre sex life. On the other hand, she was driven and organized. She kept his apartment clean and organized, while doing the same for her own. She spent the night at his apartment most days of the week, while he stayed at hers during the weekends. She managed to give him some good advice on how to get ahead at the company, and was helping him with the process of establishing his own financial consulting firm. He had no doubt that with her as his wife he would become a very successful business owner. But deep down Tom missed his old girlfriend, Samantha. Sammi was a real party girl who loved to fuck. There was nothing reserved or distant about Sammi in the sack. The two had met while he was in college. She had been a psychology major, and it was true what they said. Most psychology majors were trying to figure out what was wrong with them. Sammi had self-esteem issues, commitment issues, trust issues just to start. She had more issues than The New York Times. Tom dated her for three years, but Sammi could never be completely faithful. She never cheated on him, because she never promised him to be monogamous. Every time he wanted to be her only one, she told him upfront that it wasn't going to happen. She gave him the option to stay on her terms, or leave. He left a few times, but would inevitably end up back with her. She liked him and he liked her, but she just kept allowing herself to be seduced by smooth operators. She sought validation through sex, and Tom couldn't provide enough. He tried to get her to settle for threesomes with the two of them and some other partner, but she would eventually break whatever rules he tried to enforce. If Tom could have been satisfied with a relationship minus the monogamy, he would have been happy with Sammi, but that was a deal breaker. Sammi was a fun girlfriend, but would not be a wife for him. On the other hand, he could have Dorothy with all the monogamy he wanted, but none of the passion. His biggest concern was that he might marry Dorothy and cheat on her with Sammi. Could he marry Dorothy and risk turning into the sort of person who might cheat? Would he be able to settle for a lifetime of missionary position with a starfish after having sex in twenty different positions over the course of a week with Sammi? And so Tom kept walking. He had started from Dorothy's apartment, ostensibly to clear his head with the intention of arriving at his own apartment. He left the familiar confines of the financial district long ago, and now he was in the eclectic neighbor of used book stores and antique shops. He was lost in his thoughts, when he pulled up short realizing he had no idea where he was. He pulled up his cellular phone to look at a map, only to find that his phone was out of power. He looked around him, hoping to find a familiar landmark or welcoming store front. Across the street was a store named Amorous Goods. The seemed more welcoming the South Asian Herb market he was walking past. He looked in the window at some of the objects in the window on display. It reminded him of some of the sex shops that he and Sammi has visited, though this shop has a more refined air to it. He walked in the door and a bell sounded somewhere. Tom wasn't really shopping as much as he was looking for a shop keeper who could give him directions back to civilization, but he felt an obligation to look over the display merchandise. A voice from somewhere in back of the store called out "Just a minute." Tom looked around at the various objects on the shelves. He recognized the Ben Wa balls, though these seemed to have a malicious shine to them. He saw a strap-on dildo that was emitting a low rumbling hum that he was afraid to touch. On another shelf he saw a small clear box that held what looked like a Magic 8-Ball. The box was labeled as The Decision Maker. Just like one of those classic children's toys, it had a little window that displayed a small message inside. The current message said "Definitely, Yes". Tom began to reach for it, when a woman came down the aisle. "Hello, I'm Vikki. Can I help you find something?" "Yes. Thank you. I'm looking for directions. I'm a little lost. I took myself for a walk and now I need to get back to Crenshaw Street." "Oh. That's over a mile away. Do you want me to call a cab for you?" Vikki asked. "No. I'm happy to walk, just tell me which direction to head and I'll be fine." Tom assured her. "Well," Vikki began, "you'll want to turn right out of the store and go three blocks. That will take you to Jefferson Avenue. Turn left and in about a mile and a half, you should be in familiar territory." "Right. Jefferson eventually runs parallel to Crenshaw. Okay that will get me where I want to go." Tom thanked her. "Are you sure you don't want a ride? It's still a long way. I can get a cab here quick." "No, the walk helps me think. By the way, what can you tell me about this Decision Maker here? How much is it?" Vikki startled for a moment and looked where he had pointed. "Oh. I had forgotten about that piece. I suppose it would be harmless to let that one go." She thought for a moment. "Forty dollars." Tom thought. That was more than he really wanted to pay. But she had been generous with the directions and maybe it would help him with his decision regarding Dorothy. Sometimes it's just useful having someone to help make the important decisions for you. "Deal!" he said. He paid the money and walked out of the store with his Decision Maker and headed for home. He arrived safely at his apartment about half an hour later, but he was no closer to making a decision. When Tom arrived home he immediately plugged in his phone. It took a few minutes to come alive, but once it did it buzzed with message alerts from missed phone calls and text messages. Tom anticipated these were from Dorothy and decided he was not ready to talk to her yet. He sat down at his kitchen table and stared at his Decision Maker. He shook it as if it were a Magic 8-Ball and asked aloud, "Should I marry Dorothy?" Immediately he felt a deep lassitude as if he had fallen asleep and he started dreaming. Tom was sitting at a kitchen table, but it did not look like his kitchen. This was a much nicer, much larger kitchen with a large professional grade refrigerator and stove. There were marble top counters and a large central island. The afternoon sun was shining in through huge vaulted windows looking out over a large backyard. He could see an outdoor hot tub and a pool house in his backyard. That's right. That was his backyard. This was his house. Tom lived here with his wife Dorothy and daughter Delilah. It was a large six bedroom house with a three car garage and finished basement. They purchased this house eight years ago. Tom's company, Insight Investing, had taken off and the family was quite wealthy. Dorothy had informed him that they needed a bigger house because Delilah was going to be born soon. They bought a house big enough for a large family that never materialized. Tom looked up to see his wife standing over him. She had an impatient look on her face that he knew too well. She had always been a take charge demanding personality, but it had served their marriage well so he never complained. She had good business contacts from working as an administrative assistant that she had steered his way over the years. While she had been only working part time since Delilah was born, she had been instrumental in Insight Investment being as successful as it was. Make no mistake, Tom had put in the long hours, working fourteen hour days and most weekends, but he depended on his wife to raise their daughter and manage the household. Tom looked down at the table in front of him and saw the Dissolution of Marriage forms laid out on the table. His loving wife of eleven years had just asked him for a divorce. Tom was shocked and dismayed. He knew there had been cracks in their marriage for a long time, but he had always assumed that Dorothy was happy. He had spent their entire marriage trying to keep her satisfied. She had always been a cold fish in the bedroom, but he never pushed. They hadn't had sex ever since Delilah was born, because Tom never wanted to force the issue. Dorothy said, "You know we haven't been happy in a long time. Just sign it and we can get this over easily." Tom felt like he had been punched in the gut. "Can't we try counseling? Can't we try to make it work?" He tried to read the divorce papers in front of him. "Why didn't you talk to me about this?" Dorothy signed. "I'm done. I don't want to discuss it. I just want out. This is as good a settlement as you will get. You've got unsupervised visitation with Delilah every other weekend. I already found you a two bedroom apartment close to your work." Tom goggled. "What?? You already found an apartment for me? How long have you been planning this?" "Actually, I've been thinking about this for about a year. Things haven't been getting better. Delilah and I will stay in the house. The alimony is very affordable and will allow you enough money to live off of." Tom growled. "Are you kidding me! You've been thinking about this for a year and you didn't talk to me about it? You ambushed me you fucking bitch! There's no way I'm signing this without having my own lawyer looking it over." "You dumbshit! You don't have a lawyer. Our family lawyer is Jon's friend. We've made sure that any decent lawyer in a fifty mile radius has a conflict of interest. If you try to fight this, then you will find out just how nasty I can be. I've spent the last year documenting a history of abuse by you. Fight this and I'll destroy your reputation." "I've never hit you. I haven't even touched you in years. Where do you get off accusing me of that!" Tom shouted. "So what? I've been giving myself bruises and showing them to friends. I've been telling enough people at work and at the gym about it, that I'll be able prove it in court. If you fight this you will lose. Jon is sending four guys from work to help move your stuff out. They will be here in ten minutes, so sign the agreement and make it easy. If you don't sign it, I'll have a restraining order filed before the day is over." Jon was Dorothy's boss. She had been his administrative assistant for as long as I had known her. Clearly he had known about this for a long time. "How long has Jon been involved? Why did you talk to him before you talked to me?" "Jon has been involved since the beginning. I mean, he's been a big part of our lives for years. He's the reason your company has been so successful. If you make this easy, your company will stay successful. If you fight, you'll lose most of your biggest clients. He wants you to be successful so you can continue to support Delilah and me. Just go along with this and everything will be fine." "Wait? Are you saying what I think you're saying? Have you been screwing him? Is he Delilah's father?" Dorothy squirmed. "You are Delilah's father. You're the only father she's ever known. Don't talk like that. I'm just tired of living like this. We don't love each other. We need to move on. You've got your company and your daughter. Just let me go." "Let you go! Look at this alimony you're asking for. Four thousand dollars per week! That's well over half my income and is doesn't include the house payments. How much is Jon contributing to his child's upkeep." "Delilah is your child, not his. He has been steering business your way to make sure she is well provided for, but that's all he can do. He has his own family to take care of. Don't ruin it for him or us." She sighed. "Just sign the papers. Let's make this easy." There was a loud knock on the door which immediately opened. Four large burly men let themselves into my home. "Ma'am? How can we help?" Tom looked at these thugs who were going to enforce these terms. No matter what he did, he was going to be out on the street in a hour. These guys were going to clear everything out that belonged to him. They might move it into this new apartment or they might just dump it in the gutter. If he fought, he end up with some broken ribs and bruises, but no doubt he would lose. He looked at his wife, soon to be ex-wife, with tears in his eyes. He picked up the pen and started reading the agreement, before he realized it didn't matter. He was completely screwed. He steeled himself to sign the contract. He took a breath. Just then his cell phone rang, and he startled awake. Tom looked at the Decision Maker. In its window showed one word, "No". His phone continued to ring. It was Dorothy. As a reflex he picked it up and answered. Dorothy started into him, "Where the hell have you been, Tom? I've been calling for hours ever since you left. We were talking and then you just walked out saying you had to think. Don't I get a say in what you do? Aren't you going to talk to me about it?" Tom was still reeling from his vision. He was so unhinged he blurted out, "Are you sleeping with Jon?" Dorothy spluttered on the other end of the line. "What?? Why would you ask that? Who told you that? I mean, who gave you the idea that anything was going on? It's completely ridiculous. Where do you get off accusing me of that? Is this you trying to blame me for your indecision. Listen, you better get your head screwed on right if you think we're going to get married. Hell, I bet you wish you were still screwing Sammi and you're trying to distract me with this accusation. Now you get your ass back here so we can continue this conversation. Do you hear me?" Tom hung up the phone. He had heard enough. The vision was starting to fade, but it was clear that he did not want to marry Dorothy. He was thankful that this toy had saved him from a potentially disastrous marriage. He sat there thinking about it a little longer, and finally he shook the Decision Maker and asked, "Should I marry Sammi?" Again his vision fogged over and he drifted off as if to sleep. Tom was sitting on the couch in his living room as the morning light was streaming in. He was tired. Tom had been unable to sleep and now he was staring blankly out his front window. He had been crying earlier, but now he had no tears left. Sammi had not come home last night from her night out with the girls. She had sent no text message telling him that she was okay. He felt like a complete afterthought. Tom knew he had worked hard to convince Sammi to get married. She loved Tom, but she loved to party more. She would go out on the town, but she would always return to him. He tried to be a good husband, but that didn't seem to be enough for her. He had bought this house with his own money. He had started his own financial advising company with some of the guys from work. He was a good provider, and he kept hoping that she would finally get tired of the hangovers and the loud crowds. He remembered their wedding day. She had promised to be true to him, and she had meant it. Of course, what she meant by being true wasn't what he had in mind. She still danced with other men. She still flirted and kissed, but no sex. That was what she promised. Well, 'no intercourse' she admitted later. She didn't consider oral sex to be cheating. And of course, she might give a fellow a hand job, but that was only fair since she wouldn't fuck him. They fought all the time about that. She told him it was who she was. She couldn't give it up no matter how hard she tried. He kept waiting for her to grow up, but she never stopped going out. Of course, when they fought the make-up sex was phenomenal. He would take out all his frustrations on her. He would pull her hair and call her names. She just egged him on, telling him to punish her, to hurt her. He had to admit, the sex afterwards was the hottest sex he'd ever had, but he was getting tired of it. He wanted to settle down and start having kids. He felt like Sammi was just another child he was destined to spend his life taking care of. He needed to figure out how to get her to leave the party life behind. He was patient, but he wasn't going to wait forever. He kept pressuring her to grow up, but she only pushed back harder. She was treating him like a strict father she had to rebel against. And he was getting tired of it. He heard a car pull up to the house followed by Sammi staggering to the front door. It was unlocked, but she still struggled to get the door open. Her hair was a mess. She was wearing a tight black dress that wasn't fitting right, as if she had gotten dressed in a hurry. Her eyes were bloodshot, either from alcohol or lack of sleep. It took her a moment to realize Tom was sitting there watching her, but when she did her face broke into a huge smile. "Hey, baby!" "Where have you been? It's much too late to be getting in from a night out. The sun's already up. I was worried about you." Sammi sashayed over to wear Tom was sitting. She knelt down in front of him and started rubbing her hands along his thighs. "I have a surprise for you." She looked seductively into his eyes. "You've been interested in starting a family. I decided, sure, what the hell. So I went off birth control a month ago. I decided last night it was time to start working on making a baby." "What?" This was a surprise. Tom had not expected this. Although, it seemed odd that her idea of settling down and having kids started with an all-night binge. "Don't we need to talk about this first? I mean, how is this going to affect our marriage. Are you sure you want to settle down like this?" Sammi's hands had slid up and were massaging Tom's cock through his pajamas. He quickly hardened, but he was still distracted by what she was telling him. Kids? Really? He had discussed it with her before, but she had prett