Shy: "The Other Woman's Taste"

My name is Eric Dennison, and I'm going to get right to the point. Today, my girlfriend and I had the heavenly experience of fucking Shy Beaudelaine.

Shy (or Sheriton, as her European mother named her just short of 20 years ago) is the Aphrodite of Glenn College- the unreachable, blindingly sexual creature who's one purpose seems to be to inspire lust and self-loathing in every nearby person. "Why self-loathing?" you may ask. Shy shares her body with everyone and no one. We see her on the sidewalks, chatting with her friends in her honeyed, slightly foreign voice, sliding one high-heeled shoe up the back of her opposite calf into the crook of her knee. We turn corners and come face to face with her, her long hair tossed across her forehead and her thick eyelashes fringing eyes the color of summer grass. We brush against her round breasts accidentally in a crowded line, nearly gasping with the sensation. The answer she provides for our lust is yet more lust, and for a very lucky few, a chance to explore it.

You may be wondering just what kind of girl Shy is. The only way for me to truly describe her would be to begin by asking you to redefine your personal definition of slut. Yes, Shy Beaudelaine uses her body as her greatest weapon, and sex is her constant battle, but she makes no promises or commitments and chooses no sides. Every man (and probably most every woman) who sees her wants to be beneath her designer clothes, experiencing a moment of pure bliss that all humans dream of. I had always dreamed what it might be like, but never actually had any real confidence that these dreams would be realized. No man ever knows when he will be graced with Shy's attention. She strikes when she sees fit. Think of her as you would a Greek goddess...one of the more malicious ones, if you will.

My story of our encounter actually begins on opening night of Hamlet, a production I had been long conditioned for. As the lead, whatever existed of my social life was nearly torn to shreds with the time I spent in rehearsals and maintaining my voice for speaking. I promised myself I would avoid the bars for their smoky, polluted air...which also meant no concerts or clubs. My girlfriend and I spent most nights seated in my dormitory room, sometimes rehearsing lines, other times making out, groping, fucking...whatever struck our fancy. She always told me that the sex had to be good for my voice, and she always said it with a little half smile that I could never return. Though I cared dearly for Ginny, there was little in her that inspired excitement or could be considered "good for me." I wondered if the entire relationship was a hybrid of what I truly needed- a friend and a way to release my natural masculine tensions.

One evening late in October when opening night was nearing, Ginny and I were in our usual string of activities. She had her pants and cotton briefs in a wad on the floor, but was insistent as always in leaving her sweater on. She was self-conscious about her breasts, which she thought were too lacking in comparison to what was considered sexy.

For a few minutes, I lay next to her on the bed and kissed her mouth slowly, methodically, while my fingers played around her moistening clit. I thought about the play, and about the only remaining section of lines that I was nervous about memorizing. She then removed my pants while I lay back, my head resting just ahead of my pillow, and thought about the textbook I had left in a classroom earlier. Her damp, uninspiring pussy came down around my exposed erection, and even this could not bring more than a sigh to my lips. She groaned pleasantly, and asked, "Eric...do you ever think about fucking Shy Beaudelaine?"

I blinked. Of course I had. I thought about her...that object of complete desire...almost superhuman in form and concept...every time I stepped into the shower and felt the heavy drops of water pelting my lower abdomen and thighs. I thought about her until a minute later when I had stroked myself into orgasm and leaned against the shower wall panting my way back to reality. Ginny knew this just as every other woman at Glenn College knew this.

"Ginny," I began to answer, feeling my cock swell a little at the mere mention of Shy's name. "Why are you asking me this?" She was smiling giddily in reaction to my jumping manhood inside her.

At once I was compelled by some unknown force to slide my hands up her thighs and take her ass in my hands, gripping it suddenly. A bigger smile spread across her face and she leaned forward, pushing my cock into a position that she knew would drive me wild.

"I have too, Eric," she replied. "I've thought about fucking Shy. What if I WAS Shy?"

With that, she began pumping her pussy against my cock in long fluid motions, pulling me deeper than ever into her. With her back arched severely, she let her head fall back, her long hair nearly reaching to where my hands held her. For a split second, I imagined the tips of her hair brushing my hands, though I could not see them. I imagined her hair was darker, thicker, with subtle waves. I imagined that behind her closed lids there was a pair of green eyes that would stare down at me any instant with pure, unbridled superiority as she rocked on my manhood, primed for explosion.

"Ginny," I choked out, my breath hard and labored now from my fantasy. I meant to say more, but was interrupted by her cries of pleasure as her orgasm shook her. In the momentary confusion, I let my eyes fall closed as her internal muscles laid havoc to my pulsing cock, and heard Ginny's voice again in my head: "I've thought about fucking Shy."

When Ginny's breath had slowed and I knew she was about to pull away, I pulled away first, urging her over onto her knees where she caught herself on the bed's surface with her hands. I rose to my own knees and mounted her from behind, surprising her.

"What are you doing, Eric?" she asked, a whine and gasp in her voice. She had assumed that I had finished when she did, since she had been so lost in her own pleasure.

"You're going to be Shy," I answered before plunging myself hard and deep into her. She squealed, gripping the edge of the bed with both hands and burying her face in the covers. I pumped quickly in and out, determined to finish myself off with fireworks. I slid my hand up inside her sweater to grip her naked shoulder for more leverage as I found myself tensing up for the finish. She was nearly screaming now with my force, and in those final moments I pictured Ms. Beaudelaine bent over, her legs spread wide for me, fingering her own ass while I pounded her senseless. It did the trick.

"Oh my god," she croked against the comforter when it was all over. "Sometimes I wish I was a man so I could fuck her..."

She rose and moved to the edge of the bed, shaking and panting, wrinkling her nose at me in surprise and perplexity. "What got into you, anyway?"

I didn't want her to refuse me access to her body because I imagined her as someone else. I had thought that's what she wanted anyway.

It turns out that it mattered little. We weren't given another opportunity to be alone for several more days, thanks to my long hours in the theater and my string of big tests in classes. It wasn't until Friday, after I had completed the first showing of Hamlet and the congratulatory hand-shakes and back-slaps had ended, that Ginny and I made it back to my room for some quiet time. We talked about the show- most specifically the points that I had been nervous about. We gossiped about the other actors and actresses, and had a good long laugh when discussing some of the people who had actually shown up to watch.

"Kyle Doran was there... I can't believe he understood anything at all. Maybe he was just there for the cleavage," she joked uncomfortably, rolling her eyes. Another insecure comment about someone else's breasts, I thought to myself. She leaned forward and planted a single kiss on my lips for no reason at all and left for the refrigerator for a soda. I took the opportunity to gather up the pages upon pages of notes I had written when learning my lines and tossing them in the garbage, which needed to be taken out. I lifted the plastic can with one hand and swung in the door with the other, closing it behind me as I entered the strangely quiet hallway. Turning the corner to the garbage chute, I heard a knock on my own door and left the garbage in its can, momentarily forgetting that I would probably be fined.

As fate would have it, tonight would be the first time I exchanged words with Shy Beaudelaine. She smiled when I came around the corner, and as I drew closer I could see it was not a sweet smile, but one of complete personal satisfaction. Ginny jerked open the door, already scolding me in good humor for locking myself out.

"Shy knocked," I explained, smiling back at my guest and doing everything in my power to mask my apprehension. Ginny's gaze flitted between the two of us in the hallway, unsure what to say.

"I saw Hamlet tonight," Shy said, adjusting her purse higher on her bare shoulder, causing her breasts to push together beneath her fitted top. This is where Ginny's eyes landed and stayed, while Shy's attention was turned completely on me.

"You know, Eric," she continued, "I have to say that was one of the most impressive acting jobs I've seen in a long time... especially at this place."

Ginny seemed to want to speak, but couldn't. Her voice would have sounded like an eagle in great suffering compared to the mockingbird before us, and everyone knew it. Her gray eyes seemed glued to Shy's body, never seeming to come up farther than her neck. It was a submissive gesture of total defeat, and something in the dark part of me swelled.

"Um, thank you..." I stammered, trying to make it look like this was just another compliment under my belt for the evening. "Would you like to come in for a while?"

Ginny backed away from the door and hid behind, holding it open just enough for Shy and I to slip through. Shy's hair was pulled into a very stylish knot at the nape of her neck, and I realized I had never been this close to her from behind before. She had a tiny beauty spot just below and behind her right ear, in a tender place that my tongue wanted to explore. This thought sent my mind careening into the other succulent places my tongue might find itself on this delicious body. Or, more specifically, where my tongue would never find itself no matter how much it ached for it.

"Thanks, Eric," she said, turning back to me in one graceful half-step. Her eyes were a miraculous almond shape that I couldn't recall seeing on any other girl, though I know that there must have been others. I realized at once that I had been lost in thoughts that seemed to take hours, and it had only been a few seconds. She had glistening sky-blue powder on her eyelids that made her look like some kind of angel. I had heard someone say once that women should never wear blue eye shadow, but this was clearly not true for all women. I wished I could pull loose her bound hair and watch it fall in a sultry curtain around her face.

I had been aware in the past that Shy had a reputation for being forward. I had also heard from one very proud acquaintance who claimed to have slept with her that she had a very dirty mouth when provoked. I was seeing no instance of either of these now, and a hidden part of me wanted badly to see it.

Instead, she reached out without hesitation and pulled the door back into its closed position, exposing Ginny, who had been cowering there under the façade of holding the door. She stepped out into the middle of the room, laughed nervously, and swallowed hard.

"I should probably go and finish getting rid of that trash," I offered, hoping that Ginny would lighten up. It was a little embarrassing to have my girlfriend acting this way in front of the hottest woman alive...really.

"I...I'll get it, Eric," Ginny stuttered, moving so quickly to the door that I had no time to argue.

The moment she had disappeared from the room, I felt a warm, full breast push against my upper arm. Shy's lips were against my ear and I could feel her hot, breathy whisper long before I put together her words' meaning.

"I came to congratulate you, Eric," she said, unrushed, and after a long stare into my peripheral vision, "But this may be a bad time." She meant Ginny.

"NO!" I replied, much too excitedly. To refuse Shy Beaudelaine was like refusing happiness or salvation or even oxygen. That, and she would not offer twice. This was her gift to give, and she gave it only as she deemed deserving. I was already nearly shuddering with the anticipation of it, and wished there was a way to keep Ginny on the trash errand for an hour or two.

"No," I repeated, calmer now. "It will be fine... I'll just... I'll just get rid of her."

Part of me felt like an ass, talking about my own girlfriend as if she were an annoying little sister. Shy smiled at my willingness to cooperate, and her lightly glossed lips caught the light of the lamp clear across the room. "I don't think that will be necessary," she cooed cryptically, stepping in front of me and gripping the back of my hand with her palm. I could smell her perfume...something light and fruity like a cocktail...and she gathered up my fifth sense in her hand and pressed my eager and willing palm to her beckoning breast. I closed my fingers around it slowly, relishing its pert resistance, and let out a long, smooth breath. Her body moved against me deliberately, throwing off my balance and landing me on the couch. Before I could even bounce, Shy's thighs came down on my own, her knees to either side of my hips, and I could feel a very warm part of her moving in my lap. Her lips found mine fast and true, and as I sucked her slick tongue into my mouth I heard the door swing inward again.

I continued to slide my tongue against Shy's for several moments, my hands finding their way around her picture-perfect body to her ass, where I found a destination. Ginny spoke not a word, but I heard her footsteps as she moved to a chair across the room and sat, waiting, unsure of what to do. Clearly, this was an odd situation. I was too caught up in my passion to analyze it or to judge the best move.

Shy pulled back from me abruptly, and for one frightening moment I thought she was going to leave. Instead, she rocked forward into my lap, turned to look over her shoulder, and said frankly, "I'm going to fuck your boyfriend, Virginia."

Ginny sucked in a breath and sat as if she were on the edge of a very tall building. "Yeah," she replied in the utter voice of tenseness. She did know, too. It was what happened when Shy came for a visit. She was like any other iconic event in history that we see and immediately derive meaning from- like the Grim Reaper or the burning bush. Somehow, she seemed entranced and in a haze of prophecy, but not at all complaining.

Shy turned back to me, a playful smile dancing all over her face, and licked her parted lips. "I bet you can't wait to see some real tits," she said, quite matter-of-factly, sliding a hand down my chest to my beltline. Ginny said nothing, but stared at what enfolded before her. I could feel Shy becoming meaner, and I didn't want to stop it.

I watched as Shy's finger trailed over my erection, slowing there before continuing up between her own legs and moving up her stomach. It caught her black top there and pulled, removing the whole thing in one ballet-like motion. Her breasts, playmate-round and clad in nearly transparent black mesh, were mere inches from my face. They moved towards and away with each breath she took. She paused there while I admired her rack, and she pursed her lips in expectation of a comment.

"Just like I have always dreamed," I managed to say, and she seemed pleased. She arched her back and slid her hands back to my knees, displaying them before me again as her head fell back in contentment. My hands found their way up, gripping one in each palm and squeezing...my thumbs trailing over her hard nipples through the thin material of her bra. I pushed them together, watching her miraculous cleavage from above and below, and pushed them apart before leaning in to sample them with my mouth. She stopped me with a single hand against my chest.

"Don't you think your little girlfriend wants to feel them, Eric?" she asked me, her eyes darting to the side and back, indicating submissive Ginny. Ginny was nodding now, silently and quickly, her eyes nearly as wide as plates. Shy rose to her feet and gripped Ginny's limp hand, pulling her up and over to the couch, where she sat her next to me. I could feel the heat radiating from Ginny's body like I had never felt it before, and something about the three of us together was making me so hard I could barely even move.

Shy mounted Ginny's lap, pulling both of her hands up to meet her tits in unison. Ginny gasped and took her time in catching her breath, trying to fathom what was happening to her. She seemed to squeeze Shy's breasts for hours, deliberately moving each finger on its own to be sure that one of them wasn't lying to her. Shy began a slow, smooth rocking motion that moved her forward and backward, and left and right, on Ginny's lap.

"You like these, Virginia?" she asked her, her voice almost too honeyed to be condescending.

Ginny, still mute, nodded in expectation for more, but Shy rose and stood in front of me, staring down at my lap where my cock had grown so hard I thought it might burst right through my zipper.

"Mmm, somebody's excited," she commented, turning to face away from both of us. In one graceful motion, her hands slid up the back of her lightly tanned thighs, pulling her skirt up with them. The womanly curves of her ass came into view, decorated in a thong of the same black mesh as her bra. Her eyes met mine as she hooked her thumbs over the straps and she arched her back seductively.

As she slid the skirt and tiny black decoration down over her ass, I snuck a glance at Ginny, who was returning my gaze. She nodded again, and in her eyes I saw something like a fantasy coming to life. I knew all about that feeling.

Shy's legs were perfectly shaped, and her smooth thighs came up to meet her now naked ass in carefully curving lines like impressionist art. It was obvious that her body was hairless and soft as a kitten, and her eyes were drunk with the show she was putting on when she turned to face us again.

"Take off your pants," she ordered, a sly smile kissing her amused face. I did as she asked, removing my pants and boxers in one move. Her smile turned power-hungry again. She nodded to Ginny.

"You too."

Ginny looked at me, as if seeking my approval. I nodded while I took my fully-erect cock in my hand and began stroking it lightly. Shy hadn't even glanced at my nakedness. I wondered how many guys she had de-pantsed in her existence. I wondered why I was enjoying being dominated so completely. I wondered how this could all be happening so fast, when I had always imagined it much slower, with every detail stretching out for me to observe as long as I liked. When fantasizing about her, I had always made an effort to start somewhere in the middle, because if I started at the beginning, I'd always be unloading into my hand by the time she slid off her bra.

Ginny had removed her jeans and was standing in her t-shirt and her plain pink, cotton panties while Shy waited.

"Those too," she commanded softly, her eyes darting down to the panties before returning to Ginny's eyes to continue their condescending rule there, "I want you both naked from the waist down."

"Why?" I asked bravely, trying to force a smile. I wanted to coax her into her most demanding, most demeaning state.

She didn't feel the need to offer an explanation, but instead continued to stare impatiently at Ginny, waiting. I turned and gave Ginny an encouraging look, which she met with a shudder. Eventually, she pulled down her panties and stepped awkwardly out of them, looking to Shy for her approval.