Disc Player

Afternoon traffic was sparse as Tim parked in front of his apartment building. Grabbing a banana box of thrift sale LPs from the backseat, he slammed the door with a hip and looked to the duplex.

Easter was coming out. Upstairs Easter. Delicate features. Inky, midnight sky skin. Twin globes bobbing high on her chest encouraging consideration.

His favorite neighbor.

"Hey, Tim, 'Changing of the Guard,' huh?" The Tennessee girl's voice was faintly accented and gently musical.

"Looks like," Tim smiled. He had the graveyard-shift DJ slot, so they had seldom seen one another. But he'd thought of her often. He wondered if she ...

Easter glanced at her watch. "Off today?"

"For a change," Tim sighed. "Tomorrow night, back to the studio."

Thick braid extensions framed her potent loveliness. Her hand swept an attractively-rounded and blue-jeaned hip.

"I'm going to see Alan. He keeps calling. I tell him it's over, but now he has to hear it face to face." Twisted mouth. "I plan to make this quick."

Tim shook his head inwardly. Easter was decent. Alan, on the other hand, was a blue ribbon creep. A pretty boy TV news anchor who was stuck on himself. Tim had recently taken Alan's old apartment under Easter's. And from that first day, he'd wanted her. But it was no go. She was too messed up with that asshole.

But now -- maybe? Things could be looking up.

She turned to check the mailbox and he stole a glance at her heart - shaped derriere. So fine. "You deserve better," he managed, hoping sincerity would save the cliche.

"THANK YOU!" Her face had an 'about time somebody thought that' expression. Touching his arm. "You know, I always was suspicious. Just never caught him. But I'm tired of wondering, you know? Besides," eyes closed, "he's kind of foul.

"Oh," she moved toward the street." I ordered a pizza and gave them your number for when they check. Sorry, my phone's out. Okay? I'll be right back."

He watched her restored Mustang pull around from behind his battered Chevy and disappear into traffic.

He was shifting boxes on the hall closet's top shelf to make room for the LPs when a red floppy disc fell off to the hardwood floor. No title, save for a black markered "X." Intrigued, he left the records on the couch and fired up his MAC.

A simple title appeared:

!PRIVATE!

IA/IL QUAD CITIES HARDCORE PLAYER, 2006

BY ALAN.

Alan? With a 'What the fuck?' expression, Tim scrolled to the opening entry:

1 - MADISON Rock Island, IL

It must've been about closing time, and I was the only customer left. Still scanning a wall display of rental videotapes.

The sales girl looked about college age. Peaches and cream lovely. As she arched over the glass counter, talking on the phone, I checked her out.

Slim but impressively built. Not quite beautiful, but cute. Red tresses flowed past her shoulders. Nubile, firm young tits thrust high, straining to burst through a too-small Shania Twain t-shirt. The kind of girl you just want to screw all night.

Don't get me wrong - I've got somebody regular. But I'm always up for a little fun on the side.

Tim grimaced. The guy really was a jerk. Easter was too good for him.

"No way," the salesgirl spat into the phone "I'm not going there, again. Nothing but losers and trouble."

She began sorting returned videos, cradling the receiver between her ear and shoulder.

"You just worry about you. I'll run my own life, thank you."

I moved down the rows of tapes, nearer the cash register.

Her voice lowered. "There's a guy in here now. And he's fine!"

I pretended to not hear, selecting "Showgirls" from the wall. When I'd come in, she'd looked at me a little too long. Probably recognized me from TV. They usually do.

"OH YEAH?" I heard ask defiantly. "Call me back in about 10 minutes!"

Only when I heard the latch did I see that she was locking us in.

The storage room was dim. She sank to her knees on the linoleum. "Hi, I'm Madison," read her nametag.

Wordlessly, I unzipped and pulled it out.

The curvy little cutie "Ooooooed" at the sight of the massive, rock-hard dick throbbing hot-bloodedly just inches from her velvety mouth She paused momentarily, nibbling her lower lip, running her gaze over my beckoning shaft and considering the smutty duty ahead.

Wetting her luscious mouth, she began. Slow at first, tentative. Wild girl abandon abandon then possessed her and she leaned into the dirty business. As if proud of her talent, the sassy Miss performed enthusiastic deep throat.

I felt the singular caress of a tongue stud. Madison's plum-lipsticked pout formed a soft "O" that sealed itself around my extended rod as she squeezed and sucked her way up and down, up and down. Turning her pretty face from side to side, she hummed earthy appreciation.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM..."

She clenched her throat muscles, loosened them and clenched them again, thrilling me with each special little hug. Her tongue licked and swirled. The burning head of my dick poked at the back of her throat. With clutching fingers, she claimed the backs of my thighs, my ass, locking me to her.

A brute aroused, I seized her dainty head in my strong hands and pulled at her flowing red locks. Feet planted wide and with an animal growl, I power- fucked her saliva-dripping mouth like some rampaging cock monster.

Explosion! I filled her, flooded her. With a muffled "MMMMMPHHHH!" Madison reeled back, one palm finding the linoleum. Steadying herself, she looked up at me from the floor.

Her full lips were smeared. My hot, sticky cum spilled from the side of her mouth onto her t-shirt front, violating the smiling and unsusecting Ms. Twain. Faint, lavender lipstick traces streaked my now-deflating member.

She smiled. I smiled. The phone rang.

Falling back in his swivel chair, Tim let out an exhaled "Damn!" Pretty hardcore shit. But he reread the entry, an undercover account suspicious Easter had never heard.

The phone startled him.

"Hi, this is Pizza Circus. You ordered a personal Big Top Veggie, delivered?" Sounded like a high school kid.

"Not me," Tim began to answer. Then he remembered Easter. "Oh, wait, yeah, I guess we did."

"Okay, sir. It's on it's way!" The kid was gone.

Hearing Easter's footsteps on the stairs to her apartment,

Tim thought, 'Right on cue.' She'd looked so hot today. His dick jumped.

The first time he'd seen her it was his moving-in day. He had to leave an apartment full of unpacked boxes to head to the radio station for the evening slot. As he exited the two-story apartment house, she was arriving home from work.

All he could do was stare, transfixed. The girl was a natural beauty, not an assembly-line, surgically-altered silicone centerfold wannabe. Tim could have been happy for hours just watching her innocent hip-swinging stroll. It matched the gentle summer day. She carried herself with a poetic gracefulness. Like she wasn't even aware of her incredible sexual magnetism.

With an open and friendly smile, she thrust out a delicate hand. "Hi, I'm Easter. The girl upstairs. New neighbor!" It was hard to not stare at her rising and falling breasts.

At hand contact he felt his dick brush up against denim, spurred to attention. He wanted this beautiful stranger. Needed her.

Self-conscious, though, he only mumbled his name and something about going to work. But he'd never lost that feeling.

Tim looked at the MAC. The disc was calling. He scrolled to entry #2. 2 - VANDANA, Moline, IL

Vandana had the most popular aerobics show on local cable. She filmed the program at the same gym where she taught classes.

Petite and small-chested but with a bold sexual air about her, she was a knockout by anyone's standard. A trim and limber little fuck doll who didn't need makeup. Her lucky, pastel-blue tights clung sweat- drenched to bumps and valleys as she stretched, twisted and contorted every Wednesday to the arousal of loyal male viewers.

She'd been a good interview for the news, both knowledgeable and articulate. But her schedule had dictated a night taping.

The camera guy split as soon as we'd wrapped, complaining of having missed a kid's school play.

We sipped bottled mineral water in her office.

"See? I make exercise fun," she said. "My show helps a lot of women who can't get to a gym." Amazing cleavage. "And I know a lot of men watch, too. Maybe for different reasons, though." Sly smile. "Do you watch?"

"Every week," I lied.

Her eyes narrowed and her smile grew wider. "Why? Health or hardon?"

"Which do you think?" I smiled back.

We rose from our seats, our eyes never leaving one another.

Waiting for her under a shower's soothing hot blast, I felt proud. An entire city full of guys watched her every week. A lot of them probably had tried to hit it and failed. She'd picked me.

No surprise.

Tim rolled his eyes.

Slipping teasingly from her spandex, Vandana bared first one nippled cupcake and then the other. She rolled the tights down further, uncovering a flat, taut stomach.

Smiling a dirty smile, she revealed generous hips and well- defined legs. A narrow strip of dark public hair adorned her womanhood.

Hands on hips and shoulders thrown back, she stood proudly naked.

And, once under the steamy blast she rose on her toes and put her mouth to mine. Though 25-ish, she stood a full head shorter than me. No problem. I cupped her sweet ass. She clasped her hands behind my neck, gave a little hop and threw her legs around me before bringing it straight down home.

I surged inside.

Pointy nipples stabbed against my hairy chest Fevered sighs found my ear. Her cropped black hair smelled like apples.

With her clinging to me, I turned us both and braced her slim back against condensation- slicked white enamel. Then, I rammed myself fully and rhythmic- ally into her waiting tightness.

Burying her face in my neck Vandana trembled and was soon crying out in passion. Her head lolled helplessly to one side, her eyes rolled skyward until only the whites were visible.

My raging, veined trooper pursued its forceful invasion. Her composure was now but a memory. Vandana's perfect, sparkling white teeth flashed with the ecstasy a woman knows only when a man is deep within her. Her warmth flooded down my thighs. Mixing with water, it circled the drain before disappearing.

Carrying my still-sobbing prize to an exercise mat, I fell atop her. With strong hands, I pinned her slight wrists behind her head and settled in between firm, welcoming thighs.

She kissed me wrecklessly. Her daring tongue found my own, and the two did happy battle. Raging with masculine storm, I ravished her without mercy. She countered my every slam-bang. Orgasm rocked her svelte frame anew.

Vandana's silky, athletic legs kicked and thrashed at empty air behind my arched back. Her thrilled cries bounced off unhearing stony gym walls.

Afterward, exhausted, we lay side by side.

I turned to her. "You were right."

She turned toward me, puzzled.

"You do make exercise fun."

His mind swimming, Tim imagined Easter working out. Sweating. Giving herself to him in the shower.

A knock at the door snapped him back to reality. Easter. He felt guilty, thinking of both his imaginings and the disc. She'd been right about Alan and didn't even know it.

"You want to hear something? Not only did that jerk expect me to spend the night with him, 'for old time's sake,' but he had another girl with him. He thought a threesome would be 'fun!' She looked disgusted, shaking her head. "I didn't even say anything. Just walked out!"

Tim mumbled some vague condolences, mentally picturing her on a gym mat.

"So, hey," she brightened. "I say, 'Alan who?' I'm going to have a Girls Night In. Pizza, sparkling Rose for one, and whatever the Romance Channel has on. Did the pizza place ever call?"

"A little bit ago. Said it'd be right over. Vegetarian?"

"Trying to stay off meat for awhile." She shrugged.

That could be interpreted a couple of ways, he thought. As she climbed the stairs he studied her perfect behind.

Later, hoping to absent her from his mind at least temporarily, he started to take the LPs down to give them a listen. Outside, a tinny trumpet/honk sounded.

At the curb sat a crazily-striped and clown face-covered van. A bored-looking kid sporting a Ringmaster's top hat was carrying a polka-dotted pizza box up the walk.

Minutes later, Easter called.

"Feel like some pizza?"

"Sure." Tim's fist pumped the air. "I'll be right up." The stairs flew by.

She looked sheepish. "Sorry, but I kind of had an ulterior motive."

He raised his eyebrows quizically.

"Well, the TV gave out. No movie," she gestured at the dark screen. "So I thought I'd rearrange some stuff." Her face asked,'Please?'

He had just one stipulation. "Pizza and wine first."

It was later, when they were sliding the entertainment center across the carpet, that Easter cried out and clutched at her shoulder. Settling on the couch, she declared, "That's it for tonight!"

"Here," Tim soothed. "Let me..." He stood behind the couch and began to gently massage the strain.

"Mmmmm." She relaxed. Limp. So desirable. Achingly close.

Tim could still taste sparkling Rose. Emboldened, he slid his hands down...

Easter tipped back her head, her innocent features upturned.

He leaned over her. Their lips hovered mere inches apart.

Slowly, his scouting hands moved further down, toward her vulnerable chest. She reached back, stroking his blond hair. Tim saw eager nipples spring up against the cotton fabric of her top.

The phone.

"Hello?" She sat forward hurriedly, smoothing her blouse.

Listening for just a moment, she slammed down the receiver. "Creep!" To Tim: "Alan."

He winced. Some perverts can't take "No" for an answer.

"Um," Easter looked apologetic. "Maybe you should go...Sorry." She didn't need to finish. Tim already knew the moment was gone.

3 - MIKO, Bettendorf, IA

She was the perfumed but professional station vice president. I was the new hire, the star anchor she'd lured away from a rival by waving a ton of cash. My orientation tour ended in her stately office.

"So, what do you think of our operation?"

She paused beside her imposing oak desk.

I grinned. "I'm sure I'll be happy here."

"Good." She checked her fashionably-styled mass of curls in a wall mirror, then rifled some spreadsheets on the desk top. "Your office is at the end of the hall," she noted over her shoulder in a flat, businesslike voice.

Her shapely calves called my eyes, despite the severe cut of her knee-length business skirt. Her very proper grey pinstriped dress/jacket ensemble was appropriately officey.

But it didn't mask her voluptuousness. A statuesque 43, Miko had a busty, hourglass figure that offset her no-nonsense demeanor. Turning suddenly, she caught me looking. Humor danced in her strikingly-mascaraed eyes. After a moment's silence, she settled her features as if she'd reached a decision.

"One more option...." Shedding her pricey jacket and tossing it onto the swivel chair behind the desk, Miko began unbuttoning her pink satin blouse.

Crossing the office, I captured her in iron embrace. Insistently, my lips mashed her tender ones. Her eyes grew wide, then eased shut.

I tore away her powder green push-up bra, casting it to the floor. Her pendulous breasts sprang free. I teased and tweaked her spectacular nipples into turgid stiffness.

She writhed in my arms. Her lips still sealed to mine, Miko snaked a mischevious hand down, unzipped me and softly stroked my rising hardon.

Time to get serious. In a fluid motion, I whirled her toward the desk, doubled her over it and roughly jerked up her business skirt around wide hips.

Startled, gasping, she peered back at me over a shoulder. Surely finding only filthy determination in my eyes, she bent her face over the desk in thankful submission. With a rip, her lacy, pastel-green thong became shreds in my hand.

I love black garters.

I taunted her with my hard dick, rubbing and sliding it across her glistening pussy lips. Her sighs and moans accellerated, a stimulated symphony that rose to urgent crescendo.

Miko threw back one arm back, flailing and clutching wildly. She plead in pungent female desperation, "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

Driving myself fiercely into fleshy wetness, I split wide her offered pussy and literally screwed her breath away.

Gasping, "OhOhOhYesYesYes!" she was beyond coherent speech. "UmmOOOummOOO!"

My every slam heightened her cries.

She grabbed for the the desk's corners, her knuckles becoming white. I lowered my head and became a relentless, unstoppable pussy jackhammer.

Gucci high-heeled feet spread wide and solidly planted, Miko worked her ass in circles. A lurid washing machine spin.

Dropping atop the profit and loss spread-sheets, the half- naked lady executive flipped and flopped on her own desk top.

Her long, sexy legs wobbled, gave out, and splayed crazily at odd angles.

An earthquake began deep within her and grew to convulse her entire body. She shook in delighted orgasmic detonation.

Now it was my turn. Slapping her round ass and grabbing hold of her hips, I blasted a mighty stream of cum up into her pussy. It mingled with her own flowing juices. And together as one, they coursed down her shaking legs to the expensive carpet.

Her ass bare and her passion spent, Miko rolled panting on the desk. Her once-impeccable and costly coif was in touseled disarray.

Chest heaving, I zipped up and stared down at her victoriously.

Finally reclaiming her breath, the thoroughly fucked VP resumed workplace formality.

"You'll find your office at the end of the hall."

More entries followed, explicit and crudely inspirational. Marisa. Kelli. Kim. Shantelle.

Tim thought about the moment he and Easter had shared earlier. He imagined her in all manners of situations, positions. A flood of X-rated imaginings filled his head. Music upstairs. He looked toward the ceiling. Soft, melodic, romantic strings. Calling him.

Bounding up the stairs toward Easter's apartment, he felt his blood surge. Her door was ajar, dim light and music inviting him to enter.

And there, curled on the couch, was Easter. A filmy, purple chiffon robe was draped loosely about her. Visible underneath was pink lingerie. Fluffy violet slippers completed the midnight bedroom ensemble.

"I took the phone off the hook." Her eyes were bold, her smile easy.

In two strides Tim had crossed the gap between them and seized her demandingly. He pulled her to her feet.

"I've been sitting up there all night, thinking about how you touched me," Easter breathed hoarsely. "And I want to," clearing her throat, "I NEED to feel it again."

Their lips joined in passionate union, Tim and Easter melted into each other's arms. There were many kisses, and there was one. (Who knew where any left off and others began?) His hands explored her womanly ripeness, lingering and caressing. Her hands touched and pulled at his masculinity.

Carrying the sweet, aroused country lass to her bed, Tim grabbed at the gauzy robe, tossing it to the shag carpet. Easter's pink thong, gartered stockings and push-up bra came off next. He unsnapped the garters, rolling the mesh stockings down long, silky ebony legs and draping them over the bed rail. She sat forward.

Tim eased her out of the bra. Swelled bosoms with out-thrust nipples rose and settled with her every heaved breath. Slipping the tiny, damp thong from her generous hips, Tim gazed upon Easter's revealed beauty. He caressed her in anticipation.

Entwined, they fell to the mattress. Rising then and bending over Tim, her extensions a curtain concealing her passion, Easter licked him slowly and thoroughly. Her lips and saliva warmed him. Looking up for a moment and seeing his eyes half-lidded, she pleased him.