The Present Ch. 01

A few years ago, Roger and I lived right next door to our best friends, Mike and Darla. She and I had grown up together. We were soul sisters, as embarrassing as it is to say now, we even called ourselves "Team Double Dee" (DD) She towers over my 5'6" frame by almost half a foot, but with Darla you'll find her most striking feature to be her hair naturally colored as a Royal Sunset Lilly. A rare forest flower beautifully colored by nature in a deep red hue contrasted by whispering streaks of blonde; this flower was known to give artist reason for pause. For me it visually depicted her alternating Sub\Dom personality that only I was allowed to know.

With Darla those streaks of blonde, backed in deep red lay in sharp contrast to her forest green eyes on a nearly unblemished canvas of pale skin. Beautiful elven like qualities of elongated and narrow features shaped her canvas imparting a surreal and almost noble look. Her round green eyes surrounded by lightly colored freckles, offered a depth of character.

Tracing a winding path through the few freckles painted on that canvas, my eyes can walk me into her forest of thought. Many times in my life I have ran there to hide from the world. When she was not in my presence, and I needed sanctuary; I closed my eyes and let my mind take me there. For me, her eyes were always opened; a doorway to her magical forest. I could always joyfully find myself lost there without ever a need to return.

We are kindred spirits, perfectly at home and perfectly welcomed in each other's minds.

We were each other's first love. Most everything about sex I learned through or with her. From our first sexual experience that we shared together, we continued that sharing from youthful ignorance to now. We were fortunate enough to have an unusually strong connection in both our sexual lives and our friendship.

Every sexual button I had, she was the one to introduce me too. Through her I discovered my sexual identity and her companionship helped shape and build myself as an individual. We've enjoyed this never ending relationship throughout our lives without regard to promises of commitment to other people.

Darla knew how to manipulate my body, eliciting the responses she wanted. She could look and speak to me in a way that would bring out my rare sexually aggressive dominant side. She could touch, pinch, or pull my buttons in certain ways to bring out my submissive side.

It's been stated that human sexuality is like a gemstone with many faucets, she knows just how to expose this gemstone to the light and make it look like anything she wants. She is a master artist at manipulating my mind and my body. If she put her mind to it; or Heaven forbid, had chance to plan for it, there was no end to what she could manipulate me into doing; an artist plying her craft. The stories could go on forever about the outlandish scenarios her mental lapidary has lead me into over the years. We never had denied each other of anything, and a lot had been asked for over the years.

No one knew about this relationship, we've kept our secrets hidden well, all the while, holding no secrets between ourselves.

Team DD always!

I didn't really like Mike and she knew that. I never did and couldn't really explain why, but I put up with him because of her. He was a pudgy built excuse of a man. A fattened rounded face with deep set unremarkable eyes that could only reflect his shallow character. All this, set atop a body that could only be built by playing video games and eating fast food. If I were her kindred spirit, who the hell was this fuck? Evidently a friend by proxy. Even with as well as I knew her I couldn't figure out why she was with him. Ascetically speaking he just didn't belong in her picture. He was the evil ogre trying to enter my magical forest.

Being friends we tried to go out every Friday night but the last two weeks Roger, my husband, was unable to make it because of work. This Friday however was Mike's birthday. "Didn't have a minute to spare on buying a present" was my boilerplate excuse. I figured that it was okay because we were friends, right? At least by proxy! Why would not getting a present be an issue?

When I arrived at their house we met with the usual hugs. We started to celebrate his birthday by drinking some wine. Since it was homemade I didn't realize how strong it was. The effects of the red Italian brew seized me long before either Darla or Mike. After a little piece of Velvet cake it was time for the presents.

"Shit!" A twinge of guilt ran through my body.

Fancying himself as an amateur photographer, Darla's present was spot on, a camera and tripod. Mike looked over to me presumptively and asked what I had for his present.

I started to blush and spoke only with a mumbled "um um...." but in all the wine I lost my prepackaged excuse. Embarrassed at my lack of words for the moment, I just sat there confused. Still in my defense I'm sure it was because my head was spinning from the wine. I couldn't think of what to say.

Darla picked up on this embarrassment and got an evil wicked grin on her face, turning to look at Mike, she said almost jokingly that I could be his first nude model. I froze. I thought for sure she meant that as a joke, but then she turned to Mike and in a serious tone told him to go fix the bedroom up as the studio.

I started to protest, but the wine induced confusion did not allow me to actually voice it. Why was she so pissed at me? Over a present? I stood up, I started saying "I'm not going to get naked in front of him, I don't even like him". The thought of being on display for him was too much. "I couldn't strip in for Mike; what would Roger say?" "Pictures are forever and I don't want Mike to have nude ones of me. You know how I feel about that ogre".

Angrily Darla stepped up to me, face-to-face, her nose was almost touching mine. When she spoke, I could feel her breath against my cheeks. Reaching both hands into my front pockets she pulled my hips towards hers. On her exhales the waft of Diego Red stole my breath. She told me I had been mistaken. I was to be more than just a nude model that night. She removed her hands, sliding them up to my breast, cupping and raising, gently kneading them. She was pushing those emotional buttons she introduced me too.

Oh, shit! I exclaimed with an exhale. I loved this girl. I would do anything for her. But damn, pictures are forever and dickhead would have them.

As she caressed my breast she reminded me of how last week at the bar, in Rogers's absence, I made the offhand remark that I would go down on him. She knew that I had incredibly sensitive nipples; she knew exactly where they hid underneath my bra and sweater. Her hands rose to them and she started to playfully squeeze them.

I didn't know where she was going with this. Skilled in a secret craft learned on me, holding me as her gemstone applying her lapidary skills to an end that only the artist knew, she started to shape her gemstone into whatever she wanted. Nervous, I could feel myself starting to shake; I could physically feel my throat constricting making it harder for me to breathe. Anxiety forced me to inhale through stuttered breaths.

She not only could feel it, she recognized it as shaping her gemstone.

I recognized it as the artist plying her craft.

Darla continued complaining that I said "I would swallow his cum and had no problems in doing it; enjoying the empowerment of making my man feel so good". Evidently this was something Darla couldn't do, and Mike was being relentless in his begging for it.

She started to take a more angry tone somewhat from jealousy I would guess. The gentle caress of my nipples started to become a painful pinch, almost brutal; this bitch knew me too well for my own good. She squeezed my nipples between her index fingers and thumbs so hard the shock made my knees buckle. Manipulating my buttons more forcefully lifting my breast up and out from my body she pulled me up higher and even closer to her face by my nipples. Had she not have been holding my up, dangling in the air by my tits I would have fell from the pain.

My breathing stopped. Shaking my tits left and right, she said "my real present for Mike would be for me to suck his cock". I was moving my head in a motion that was saying no; she was working her trade, pulling my nipples in a motion that was forcing me to say yes.

"You said that you swallow for Roger. That's great. You're going to swallow for Mike".

She released my nipples and grabbed my throat.

"And you're going to deep throat him".

I wanted to say no, I really tried too. I wanted to scream out. I didn't want to do anything that I would have to explain to Roger. But she knew me and she knew how to manipulate my buttons to shape me to her will. I was hers; always hers and we both knew that. All the wine and her manipulation had me confused; I didn't know what to say.

Before I could utter anything, she grabbed the front of my pants with enough force to make them come unsnapped and pulled me to the bedroom. Oh fuck why is it I let her control me like this?

Darla announced, "Your present is here", putting an incredible smile on creeps face.

Mike already had the bedroom set up as a mini studio. There was a small yoga mattress in the corner, it was covered with a white sheet, and there were two white sheets on the wall making the entire corner a solid white canvas.

Being pulled over in front of the mattress I was spun around to face the ogre and its camera.

Facing me Darla said "are you ready". It sounded more of a warning than a question!

Mike was tripping over himself in anticipation.

Knelling down she began unzipping my already unsnapped pants. I didn't know what to do.

As my pants were slowly coming off Mike remarked "ShowTime"! With a surprising silent chuckle I thought "What an ass".

So many thoughts running through my head! I didn't know what was more upsetting; having my picture taken in the nude, or Mike being allowed to feast those covetous eyes on my nakedness. In the pause of her reaching for the waist of my pants to pull them down, I stared into those eyes, I found myself lost in her forest, for an instant, oblivious to the present surroundings and either concern. I lifted my sweater and down fell my pants. I stood there in front of the camera wearing nothing but my red bra and matching G string. Standing there in my near nudeness I started to reconsider, to my surprise I had other emotions betraying me. She was my friend; she wouldn't do anything to hurt me! She wouldn't hold anything over my head!

I was surprised at just how strongly my body and my emotions fought against my common sense. I didn't know what to do? Deep down inside I knew that I didn't want to do anything that Roger didn't know about, especially feeling about Mike as we do. That coupled with the permanency of photos, should have been reason enough to leave.

Damn that 4th glass of wine.

I quickly designed a plan for me to back out, maybe bullshit them with a chance of a rain check; by the time those thoughts raced through my mind Mike already had three pictures. This battle of the war was lost; forever he would have at least those pictures of me wearing next to nothing just for him.

I moved into different positions as Darla would instruct, positioning this little gemstone in whatever position she wanted. Oh the look on that assholes' face, I was his own little show. Placing me into sexually provocative poses, was just not for his enjoyment, but to have this indignity captured on film. He was on top of the world, and before this evening was over I would be reluctantly putting him even higher. That thought almost made me gag. I could already taste him.

Darla stepped up behind me, started to run her hand through my hair. With her other hand she deftly unfastened my bra. Almost instinctually as my bra started to come down, my hands rose over my breast, hiding them from the dick. Pulling my hands away exposing my nipples to Mike, it was with an evil joy she started to again tweak my nipples, this time lightly scratching them with the tip of her fingernails. They now stood pornographically erect, looking as hard and sexy as possible for either the camera or the man.

Forced down onto the yoga mat that was covered in the silk sheet, its unwelcomed coldness against my back made my nipples flinched causing slight twinges of pain. As I lay there with my knees raised but closed, questioning my dilemma, trying to turn my thoughts into actions, the camera shutter open and closed several times. Once again my procrastination lost out to Mike's sexual greed.

Darla through almost professional commands ran me through a series of poses. Dog style facing the camera, dog style facing away, me holding my tits, me licking my nipples, thumbs down the front of my G-string, Mike was getting it all. Save for what was behind the increasingly wetter tiny patch of red silk, no larger than the palm of my hand, nothing was hidden from Mike, and all of it caught forever on film.

Stepping to me as I was lying down she knelt beside me. Those long elven fingers of her hands grasping the waist band of my tiny panties. Exposing my tits were one thing but going full nude crossed another line. With an evil grin she started to reveal Rogers treasure to that asshole. I knew her my whole life. I knew that evil artistic grin. I knew she was telling me there was more to this night than what was just in front of me. As her hands slid down my legs taking the G-string with them, I unconsciously raised my hips, then legs to help her. Mother fucker what was wrong with me, why was I letting this happen?

Darla held my now moistened panties for a moment temporarily blocking Mikes view. She had an odd look on her face, like a lapidary who just freed a beautiful stone from an ugly rock! What plan was this evil artist still hiding?

She tossed the tiny garment into the corner and gave me another untelling grin. As she step away it became clear to Mike how wet all of this had made me. Being watched, being the center of attention, not being in control was making me horny, an unintended consequence of the Masters craft.

The profoundness of my situation started to dawn on me. I was completely naked in front of them; not a stitch of clothing for me to hide behind. Mike had never seen me naked, and there I was, completely exposed, and soaking wet just for him. The look of his eyes as he took in the view of my exposed black pubic hair was of pure animalistic greed.

At least I had my muff well-trimmed (some would call it a racing stripe) and I was in a well-built phase of my life. So concentrated on my nakedness, I don't think he even recognized Darla's presence in the room anymore.

They were still dressed. They were in control. They set the pace. They decide how far it was to go and the plan was for it to go even further.

I wasn't ready. My nudeness would be forever memorialized and he was the keeper of the memorial. Was this the first wave of my sobriety? Yet again I almost vocalized my protest; Yet again, dickhead and his camera beat me to it. The sound of the shutter was ominous. Snap-click, snap-click! Catching me forever in all my glory, Holy shit, what if Roger sees these pictures?

This time it was Mike instructing me through my poses. I wasn't pleased with this. It was one thing taking uncomfortable orders from someone I loved, it was a completely different issue when it was someone I didn't even like. Sadistic is the only way to describe it, uncomfortable but erotic at the same time, with a sense of enslavement, receiving orders from Darla by deputation of Mike.

The knowledge of Darla's presence gave me strength to carry on. As I followed his instructions for posing the uncomfortableness of my servitude forced me to hide my most intimate parts. Curiously enough, he didn't force the issue. After a couple of total nude stills, Darla stepped up to the mat. By my hand and in my nakedness, she helped me up. Instead of allowing me to stand completely she placed one hand on my shoulder forcing me down to my knees.

She quickly stepped behind me as if to not let the momentum of the evening stop. That begs the question as to ask if that was the reason why they didn't force the issue on more revealing photos. With one of her hands she reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair on the lower part of the back of my head. She pulled downward just as I like it. Dammit, this bitch knows all my buttons.

Darla started to shake my head left and right always in control.

"Mike, those pictures aren't your only present".

"Denise has another present for you".

"Go on tell him what it is, don't make him wait".

Not being real sure I wanted to do it. I wasn't real sure if I was able to do it. But I damn sure didn't want to tell him what she was going to have me do. She started to pull my hair harder and shaking my head left and right just a little more forcefully, the hair pulling was slightly painful. By this time I knew I was still drunk, and horny as hell. He already had nude pictures of me, so I might as well do it and get it over with. Hoping like hell I wouldn't have to explain it to Roger. My feelings bounced back and forth too many times. I was beat, fuck it, I'll do it.

Evidently she pick up on my new found sense of complacency, she grabbed my head with both of her hands, one on my chin the other in my hair pulling again, still moving my head left and right, still in control stopping long enough for me to look Mike in the eye; I took one solid deep breath to accept what I was going to say.

Sheepishly I eked out "I want to give you a blow job for your birthday."

I swallowed another breath of air to force my disdain for the bastard down far enough to get through the next ten minutes, thinking to myself, fuck, fuck, and fuck. How did I get myself into this?

I continued my reluctant birthday present speech, with more convection I said "you can cum anywhere you want too, my birthday present to you is to give you the best blowjob you've ever had."

Darla grabbing my breast, started cupping them in a way to place them on display, she chimed "You own her from the belly button up. You can cum on her tits, or if you'd like, I'll allow you to cum on her face, but I'm guessing you'll have her swallow it, anything you want she can't complain".

With that she gave me two playfully slaps on my cheek. I don't think I'll ever forget that smug look on his face, what a fucking creep.

"She'll suck that cock anyway you want her too, rumor has it she can deep throat, lets test that rumor".

Darla let go of my head long enough to grab my wrist and place them behind my back. As Mike was finger fucking his new camera, she whispered in my ear "if those fucking hands come loose and leave from behind your back, I will forcibly hold you down and let him fuck you, deal?"

In silent complacency I accepted it as if it were a challenge. Not a word was spoken in confirmation of it; just a slight node pronouncing my ratification, we knew each other well enough to know that if I failed I would be bound play along. For years we have never denied each other anything!

There was no doubt in our minds that dickhead would be okay with the use of a little force, might even prefer it, if it meant he got to fuck me.

For some reason saying out loud, that I was going to suck his cock, took any remaining fight from me. Now I knew I was going to do it, whether or not I really wanted to do it no longer was the issue. Besides I'm sure Darla would help me through it (what a wonderful friend she is).

He stepped up toward me and remained about a half step in front of me. I quipped a meager protest and suggested a condom. The dickhead was all giggles and Darla sang with a familiar musical foot print.