The Candidate

Needless to say I was not impressed with the results. I couldn't understand what the other girls were bragging about. I thought it was nice, but no big deal and kind of messy.

It wasn't long before I discovered that the area between my legs was a guy's greatest fantasy. All I had to do was let him in once, and he was my slave forever, or at least until some other girl let him in her body.

I had discovered "Pussy Power" and I loved it.

I graduated with good enough grades to attend any Ivy League college I wanted. My parents wanted me to attend "an all girl's" school, but I fought that until they relented. So in the fall I started at a very expensive co-ed Ivy League school.

My roommate was as wild and crazy as I was; we started working our way through the male population at that school.

One rainy night when both my roommate and I were just a little high and very horny, I discovered she was "Bi".

It was then had my first real orgasm with her help.

I always enjoyed sex with men before. It felt good and I enjoyed the feelings I experienced. I loved the feeling when a man entering me, and the frenzied movement as we both tried to maximize the pleasure we were feeling.

But when he climaxed, I was always left with the feeling that there should be something more to this whole act.

Her talented fingers and tongue showed me that there was more, a lot more.

We continued to have sex with guys and each other. Sometimes I even achieved the "Big O" with guys. But with my roommate Cindy, I always achieved orgasms over and over until I begged her to stop so that I wouldn't die.

And after a little bit of recovery time, I would return the favor until it was her turn to beg me to stop.

I guess you could say we were perfect roommates. We didn't actually fall in love with each other, but we developed a very strong "like" for each other.

We continued this way until we were forced to separate.

In my junior year, Cindy went home early for the fall recess. Her dad had a heart attack and she was needed there. Her mother needed her support to get through this crisis. It turned out that it was a very serious heart attack, and Cindy transferred to a local college so she could be near home.

I missed her and the nights we spent together a lot.

One of the frat boys I knew (but had not slept with - yet) asked me to his fraternity's Halloween Party. It was full costume. I told him I had other plans and couldn't attend with him. But the idea of being able to hide my face and anonymously attend the party started developing in my mind. The more I thought about it the better the idea seemed.

You see I was always looked upon as a "good girl" and I couldn't really let my hair down and get wild. But by hiding my identity, I could be really bad.

So off I went to a costume rental place to pick out something "naughty". I found a stripper's outfit that fit my body shape perfectly and was really revealing. My next stop was to a store where I was able to buy hair color that washed out, and some other stuff to alter my facial features.

I went back to my dorm room and practiced changing my features and putting on "slut" make-up. After a few hours, I didn't recognize the blond who stared out of the mirror at me.

Once I used the hair dye, no one would recognize me.

My next step was to put on the costume and practice taking pieces off to determining what showed. I put on some music and started dancing and stripping in front of my mirror.

Well I got carried away and whipped the G-string bottom off. Oops, blond pubic hair, that had to go! My hair dye was brown and I couldn't be two toned. At first I thought I would just dye my pubic hair also, but I got thinking about rashes, or the dye just wearing off too soon. So I took a deep breath, grabbed a towel and my shower stuff (including a new razor) and headed off to the community showers on my floor.

The showers were empty, so I jumped in soaped up and started shaving before I changed my mind. It was easier than I thought, and before you could say "Jack Robinson" I was as bald as a new born baby and horny as hell.

I ran back to my room, jumped on my bed, and started trying to put every finger I had in myself. While I could only insert a couple, they did the job. My denuded crotch felt really great, and feeling it drove me to some of the best self induced orgasms I had ever had.

After recovering from these orgasms, I grabbed my hand mirror and inspected my handy work. I found that I had missed a few hairs both between my legs and near my back door. So I grabbed a water bottle from the small refrigerator we had in the room and wet a wash cloth.

Wow was that wash cloth cold!

I popped that sucker in my microwave and tried again. This time everything was at the right temperature and I was able to clean up the missed hairs. I put a little lotion on that area to help me avoid razor burn. I started rubbing some in, the next thing I knew those same two fingers were working their magic again.

After I recovered from a few more orgasms, I vowed to stop pleasuring myself before I couldn't walk any more. So I put the costume back on and started dancing again, this time I practiced for a couple of hours until I was dancing like a pro.

I was all ready for the party next Saturday night.

As the days before the party got closer, I discovered how great having no pubic hair actually felt. There was no buffer between my fancy silk underwear and my kitty. The rubbing drove me wild. I was so wet all the time that I stopped wearing and underwear just to stop the rubbing.

But now when I was walking about the campus or sitting in a classroom, I keep thinking what I had under my skirt, nothing.

I was a bitch in heat all week.

When the weekend finally arrived, I was so horny that I pleasured myself in the car, in public, when I was stopped at a railroad crossing for a train.

Little did I realize how symbolic that train was to become.

+++++

The night of the frat party finally arrived.

I had rented a motel room so I could dye my hair and get "dressed" without anyone I knew spotting me. I took a cab over to the frat house from the motel, so that I could leave my car hidden at the motel. I was taking no chance that I would be recognized.

When I got to the frat house, I put my mask on, paid the cab and walked up to the front door.

At the door was a guy whose job it was to make sure everybody had a costume on or they would not be granted access. I opened my coat as I approached him. His eyes never left my chest as he let me in.

I was going to like this party.

After a few drinks, many dances including one with the guy I had turned down to attend with. (He never recognized me, but in all fairness, his eyes never actually got up to my face either.)

Someone put that famous stripper song on the sound system. Well everybody opened up a space for me on the floor and started chanting, "Take it off".

By this time I had consumed a few more drinks than I usually do, so I said to myself, "Why not?'

I began moving to the music. To make a long story short, 15 minutes later I was dancing on a table wearing only my shoes. The crowd loved it. And to tell the truth, so did I. I was hot enough to start a fire.

I was in the middle of a back bend when I felt hands on my hips and a mouth between my legs. Whoever it was knew exactly where to lick. I reached an orgasm with a loud screech.

I looked down and saw a woman's head between my legs. She was still licking and I was still climaxing over and over again.

She was soon replaced and I felt the first guy enter me. He pounded away and soon had me climbing to orgasm again. I was so close when I felt him finish in me.

I screamed, "No! I'm almost there. Don't stop".

But he did and pulled out.

Suddenly I felt another guy entering me and over the top I went, again and again. I was in heaven. Sex had never felt so good for me.

I loved it.

They used me for the next 4 hours. I kept begged for more. At some point in the evening I felt someone entering my butt, another in my vagina, and a third in my mouth.

I think I climaxed the hardest that time, than I had ever before.

I was hooked. I loved "pulling a train."

Sometime late in the evening or early the next morning the party broke up. I guess that none of the guys had anything left below the belt and booked. As I lay there on the table, I realized that the girl that first started it all with me was slowly taking her clothes off. She got down on her knees between my legs and started to kiss my woman hood.

She lifted her head and said, "Let me kiss it and make it all better."

After a while she changed positions into the classic 69 and I returned the favor. We got done and started looking for my costume. I guess there must have been souvenir hunters because there was nothing of mine to be found. My new friend drove me back to the motel (me being completely nude!) and helped me gain access to my room.

The desk clerk loved my new outfit.

After my ride drove off, I drew a bath and soaked myself clean and washed the dye out of my hair. While soaking, I relived as much as the evening as I could remember.

I loved every minute of it, and I knew this would not be my last time.

I had a major change in my attitude. I now knew the meaning of "pulling a train" and I wanted to do another one again.

After sleeping all Sunday, I returned to my dorm room and promptly went back to bed skipping all my Monday classes.

By time Tuesday rolled around, I was trying to decide how I could be the star attraction at the next gang bang I attended. I started making plans to create another ID to use when I did attend the next orgy.

Over the next few months, I made friends with a couple of people in the costume and makeup departments at the college, from them I learned all the tricks to altering my appearance so even my own mother wouldn't recognize me.

At any college there are always banks trying to sign you up for credit cards. I used my forged college ID to obtain a few. Then using my fake college ID and the credit cards, I was able to parley them into a driver's license and social security card. I now had the alternate identity of Brandy Hill from California.

My dual life had now begun.

++++++

I finished my last year of college and returned home to start my life, my alternate ID safely established and ready to use.

My dad was a "died in the wool" Republican and soon had me attending functions with him. Before I knew it I was hooked by the power a Politian and anyone associated with him or her could wield.

I began looking for someone with that kind of power to hitch my star to.

Soon I found myself at a caucus meeting in an upstate county. I watched as the downstate leaders lectured the locals on what was to be expected of them. I noticed a man about my age acting as a gofer, making coffee and refilling waters.

He was quite attractive and I found myself becoming slightly aroused. But I also noticed that he was intently listening to everything being discussed, occasionally stopping to whisper in the ear of one or another local delegate. Shortly after the quiet conversation, the representative would ask a very intelligent question or make a deeply thought out statement.

It suddenly dawned on me that he was the real brains in the room, and I was attracted to him. It didn't hurt that he was cute also.

After a while one of the senior members of my group began speaking like an idiot, lecturing everyone in the room. I noticed the gofer was listening and a small smile crossed his face. I realized he also had filed the man speaking under "idiot. "

I found myself looking over at the gofer; whose name I later found out was Tom, flashed him a very quick but dazzling smile, and winked. He read my actions perfectly, and spilled the water he was pouring.

I knew I had to have him in my bed as soon as possible. It had been awhile and I was horny.

Sadly, the meeting abruptly ended and we were whisked to the airport to return to our homes downstate. I never got a chance to meet this man then, let alone have sex with him.

Little did I know, he was to become the most important figure in my life.

Time passed and I managed to make a few trips to the west coast to cement my alternate ID and become the center attraction at a few group sessions. It took the edge off my hormones.

I learned to control these sessions. No more did I just lay there and be used, I became an active participant controlling the action and enjoying it to the extreme.

I created my slut self and enjoyed her to the max.

+++++++

My father prevailed upon me one day to join an old friend for dinner at the friend's club. The reason was to access the connection between him and an upcoming party member.

Little did I know it was just a setup to introduce me to the up-and-comer I had seen at that meeting upstate a few years ago, and to see if something developed.

When I walked into the club, fashionably late as usual, I heard my name called and saw my father's friend standing and waving. As I approached the table, the dinner guest arose and turned toward me. It was that same handsome smiling face I had seen years ago at that upstate party meeting.

My silly heart skipped a beat, and I turned on the charm.

We had a wonderful dinner.

By the time the evening was over, I just knew I had to have this man as my own. No quickies with him, but if all turned out as I planned, a lifetime with him.

So I started a full court press on him. He never stood a chance.

About one year later we were married. I was so happy; little did I know that my Brandy personality would again surface.

It was about a year after we were married, when I started getting that "itch". My other self, Brandy, was starting to raise her slutty head again.

At first it was a dream during an afternoon nap while my husband was at the Capital. The next time, it was a pleasant memory while soaking in the tub one afternoon.

Then while I was "shaving" myself, I started remembering why I first shaved down there. I got so turned on I was on my back on the bathroom floor, with a long necked shampoo bottle, going at it like a crazy woman.

It was after that session I started making plans to get away for an extended week alone in California, and become "Brandy" again.

Over the previous years, before my marriage, I pulled the disappearing act with enough frequency that I rented a storage shed, bought a small car out there, and stashed all my Brandy clothes, and makeup, IDs, and credit cards. I'd pull up in a taxi, pay off the driver, let myself into the shed and immerged about an hour or so later as "Brandy the Slut".

And my adventures would then begin.

Over the years, I fucked motor cycle gangs, groups of guys on pool tables in sleazy bars, street gangs of various ethnic groups, and even some construction crews on job sites. Once I even jumped on a commercial fishing boat and was completely nude for four days.

My only requirement was there had to be at least 5 guys to keep me satisfied. I usually lined up the larger groups for earlier in the week so I had time to rest up and get my legs closed, to be able to walk again.

I was in heaven. I don't know how I managed not to get an STD or pregnant because protection was never used. I loved the feeling of a man ejaculating in me, "on" me, or it just running down my thighs.

I just couldn't get enough.

This would be my first trip since being married so I had to be a little choosier. I couldn't return home with bruises, bite marks or hickeys. I also had to eliminate the guys who were really hung. As much as I loved getting stretched out (both front and rear). I knew it would be really difficult to explain my size increases to my husband.

You see my husband was just a normal sized guy, not extra long or extra thick, just average. But what I liked best about his equipment was that when he got hard, he got hard! It was like a steel rod in me. And he really knew how to use it.

God he'd have me begging to stop after multiple orgasms. Someone should write a song about him, he's that good. But s good as he was, I still wanted to be the star attraction at gang bangs.

Just before the time for my "visit to a girlfriend's house on the west coast" I made sure I attacked him every morning before he left for work, at lunch if he came home (if not I snuck into his office and did him on his desk a couple of times), and of course once or twice at night before going to sleep.

I explained all this extra activity to him by saying,

"It's going to be a whole week before I can have you in me again and I don't want to forget what it feels like."

He bought it completely. "Brandy" thought, "Men are so easy to fool."

I felt a little regret at my planed actions, but "Brandy" ruled and I left anyway.

The week away went perfectly. My slut persona managed to participate in four group sessions before needing to rest up prior to heading home.

It was a very good trip. "Brandy" was satisfied and my "Mary" personality returned again as dominant and helped me remove my disguise and return to normal before starting back home.

When I got off the airplane, there was my loving husband waiting at the foot of the ramp instead of behind the TSA's barriers (being a state senator did have its perks). We met at almost a full run. I threw my arms around his neck, he lifted my feet off the floor, and we started kissing.

If it wasn't for some of my fellow passengers yelling, "Get a room", we might have done the deed right there on the floor.

We managed to make it home before we tore each other clothes off and didn't get out of bed for the next 24 hours. During one of our "rest" periods we were watching the national news and there we were, in living color, captured in our lip lock at the airport.

I guess someone took our picture. (What I thought were stars in my eyes from kissing him were in reality flash bulbs).

We were described as the, "Senator and his wife, still newlyweds after more than a year." I guess when Tom returned to the senate chambers, that picture was plastered all over.

He took a lot of ribbing for the next couple of weeks about that picture. We even made Letterman's Top Ten List, under, "How to greet a friend."

We were number three. (I still wonder how they got #1 and #2 past the censors. )

For the next month we were like rabbits. Some philosopher once said, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Well I don't know where his heart was but mine had moved to between my legs.

We weren't careful and I found myself pregnant two months later.

The next time "Brandy" surfaced was a few years after our daughter Danielle was born. There was no denying the feelings; I needed another "road" trip. So I made the plans and disappeared for a week. This time Brandy ran into a porn producer, she spent the whole week making movies. She did guy on girl shots, group takes, girl on girl films.

She did everything but animals.

She loved it and they even paid her. (Little did they know she would have "worked" for free).

She learned years later that her disguise wasn't as perfect as she thought. That's what started the reporter on his search. He assumed that he was watching a look-a-like or a distant relative. He decided to use his spare time to check this out.

The reporter never found out her secret.

++++++

When both kids were older and in school, I began a campaign to have my husband elected to a higher office. Since he wasn't a lawyer, he really couldn't be a higher judge, so I set my sights on Governor. The current Governor was in the "other" party and he was getting too old to be effective.

Now, I knew my husband really had no political ambitions, so everything had to happen behind his back. I made sure that everything he did or said made the press. I sweet talked fellow Republicans, and did a little arm twisting when necessary. So it was no surprise to me that he was nominated to the gubernatorial ballot in November against the incumbent.