Time Machine, Sex Machine

"This is my time machine." The professor pointed to a cone-shaped structure in his basement. "You can go anywhere you want—meet anyone you want. Where do you want to go?"

I blinked. "You mean . . ."

"I've tested it myself. I went back to ancient Egypt to meet with the pharaohs. There's a translation key. I met William Shakespeare. I even met . . ." He grinned. "Cleopatra."

"Really?" I was 25, and horny. "Was she . . . I mean, did you, uh, you know?"

"Of course." He grinned. "Nice legs. Strong thighs. And she was fine with an old man." He sighed.

"Now it's your turn." He turned to the panel and started tapping keys. "Where—or when—do you want to go? Who do you want to meet? Think about it, Timothy. You can go anywhere. I'll send you there. I don't have much time left. It's my gift to you."

He was just the nice guy who lived next door. A little bit kooky, like the Doc in "Back To The Future." But he had all kinds of machine and computers.

"Okay." I shrugged. "I'll do it."

The professor grinned. "Who do you want to meet?"

I thought for a moment. "Bettie Page. 1950s?"

"Hmm . . ." He started hitting buttons. "Good choice. Get ready."

The cone had a door. It opened, and I stepped inside. Was this a mistake? What if it exploded? What if the professor was just crazy? What if—

The cone shook. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck . . .

* * *

BETTIE PAGE

I was kneeling on the floor, with a small brownie camera in my hands, surrounded by a bunch of other amateur photographers clicking pictures at a nude model in the front of the room.

She lifted a hand over her head and smiled. She had a thick black bush between her thighs, a pageboy haircut with bangs over her eyes, and firm tits jutting out from her chest.

"Hey, Bettie!" The other guy with cameras shouted. "Can you turn this way? The other way? That's great! Your legs? Oh, that's great!"

I gulped. Bettie Page. It worked!

An older man sat behind her, watching us. Irving Klaw. I'd read a lot about him.

I aimed my camera. I had no idea how to work it, but I managed to zoom in and take some pictures. Would they come back with me? I didn't know. Right now I didn't care.

After a few minutes Klaw lifted a hand. "That's all, boys. Shooting's over."

A collective groan of disappointment lifted over the room. The group around me stood up. Old men, young men, even a middle-aged woman with a more expensive camera than any of us. They packed their cameras into their bags and headed out.

I lingered. Bettie stood up and pulled a robe over her shoulders. "Hi, there." She smiled at me.

"Hi, Bettie." I held up my camera. "Do you think we could take a few extra pictures? Outside?"

"Oh, I don't know." She looked at Klaw. "What do you think, Irving?"

Klaw shrugged. "It's extra. Twenty bucks."

I reached into my pocket. To my surprise, I had a wallet stuffed with money. I handed over a fistful of bills. "Will that cover it?"

"If it's okay with you." He smiled at Bettie.

"Oh, it's fine." She slipped a pair of slippers on her feet. "What's your name?"

"Timothy. Tim." I followed her through a side door, my dick already hard.

The sky was cloudy. Bettie wore a thick pink robe and sandals as we walked to a circle of trees behind the house.

"Okay, Tim." She opened her robe. "Is this what you want?"

I clicked the camera, my mouth dry. Trying to control my breathing. Hoping she didn't notice my throbbing bulge inside my jeans.

Bettie dropped the robe on the ground and spun around, posing in different directions. I wasn't sure how much film my camera had—or if it had any film left. I knelt on the grass, pressing the button.

Then I stood up. "Bettie? You're so beautiful."

She giggled. "Thanks, Tim."

"Could I—kiss you?"

Bettie smiled. "Well, you're kind of cute. Maybe."

I set the camera down and walked forward. Bettie pursed her lips, smiling. She set her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward. We kissed.

"Mmm . . ." She murmured. "You're a good kisser, Tim. I like that."

"Yeah." I squeezed her shoulders. Looked down at her tits. Then I leaned down to kiss her neck.

"Oh, Tim, that's nice . . ." Bettie shivered.

I grabbed her butt. For a moment I thought she'd push me away, but then she leaned forward, kissing me harder. "Yeah, yeah . . ."

I ran my hands up and down her body. Her back, her neck, her arms. How much longer would this last before I had to go back to the future?

I couldn't wait much longer. My cock was throbbing. I leaned back and pulled at my T-shirt, kicking the camera away. Then I fumbled with my belt.

Bettie stared at me as I yanked my pants down. "Tim, I don't know if this is right." Then she hesitated. "Oh. Well, maybe . . ." She smiled, looking at my cock.

I stripped off my clothes until I was naked as her. She gazed at my nude body. The air was cold on my skin.

She grabbed my shoulders, then sank down on the ground, kneeling in front of me. "Okay, Tim. Just for a few minutes."

I nodded. "Yeah. Whatever you say . . ."

Then my cock was inside her mouth. Bettie Page. I staggered on my feet.

Bettie's hand squeezed my butt. She gazed up, smiling as she sucked me. I looked down at her, my legs shaking.

"Wait!" I grabbed her shoulder. I was about to cum. "Wait!"

"What?" She leaned back, her tits shaking.

"I've got to . . ." I bit my lip. "Can we—can I—I came a long way for you. For this. Please?"

"Okay." Bettie nodded. "I don't do this all the time, but like I said . . ." She kissed me. "You're kind of cute."

She lay back on top of her tangled robe on the ground, opening her legs. She stroked her hairy pussy. She smiled. "Come on, Tim. Don't keep a lady waiting."

I dropped to my knees, staring. I had to take a lick at that legendary hairy pussy. I leaned forward, flicking my tongue out to taste Bettie's juicy snatch. Bettie shivered and trembled, one hand clutching my shoulder. I licked some more, teasing her slit with my fingers as she moaned. "Mmm," she sighed. "Yeah, Tim, that's good. Okay . . ."

Then I reared up, my cock jutting forward. The cool win swirled over our bodies.

I grabbed Bettie's thighs. Pulled them wide. She gazed up at me, smiling.

Then I plunged my rigid cock deep inside her wet pussy.

"Oh!" Bettie squealed. She lifted a leg. I pushed down hard. Her naked body squirmed beneath me.

"Yes," I moaned. "Yes. I'm fucking Bettie Page!"

"Yeah," she murmured. "Keep doing that. Keep—doing it . . ."

I drove down and deep inside her hairy pussy. In and out, back and forth . . .

After a few minutes, just before I was ready to spurt, Bettie pushed on my chest. "Get over."

Biting my lip, I pulled out of her pussy and rolled over onto my back. Bettie smiled and pressed her hands on my bare chest, her boobs dropping down as she leaned back and grasped my shaft, slowly sliding my cock up inside her pussy.

My prick squirmed inside her and she rocked back and forth over me. I reached up for her boobs, squeezing them as they wobbled over my face. She smiled, her black bangs swinging back and forth above her eyes.

"Yes, Tim," Bettie murmured. "That's nice. Oh, that's nice . . ."

She bounced back and forth on my cock, groaning. "Oh, this is no nice, Tim, so nice . . ."

"Yeah." I gripped her shaking hips. "I love you, Bettie. I've always loved you. I always wanted—this. Ah! Oh! Yes!"

Bettie reared back, rocking on my cock. "Yes, Tim. It's so good. I'm—making it. Doing it. Yeah, yeah, yeah . . ."

I spurted up into her wet hot pussy. "Oh, Bettie, Bettie . . ."

She leaned down to kiss my lips. "That's nice, Tom. Yes. Oh!" Her body shuddered. "So nice . . ."

* * *

I sat up. Wow. It worked. Wait—where were my clothes?

"Did you like it?" The professor grinned. "I could see all of it here." He pointed to a screen. "Bettie was a good choice."

I gazed at the monitor. There was Bettie Page—naked, sinking up and down on my rigid cock. I almost came again, watching her.

"Okay." I stood up, my cock still dripping. "That was great."

"Are you done?" The professor turned to his control panel. "I can send you anywhere."

"Marilyn Monroe." I slouched down. "Just give me some new pants, all right?"

"Good choice." The professor laughed. "Here we go—"

* * *

MARILYN MONROE

I sat on a bar stool, dizzy, a drink in front of me. And a dazzling blonde next to me in a short white dress.

"You okay?" The blond woman smiled. "I'm Norma. Norma Jean."

"Y-yeah." I sat up. "I know who you are. I'm Tim."

"Oh." She smiled. "You've seen my movie?"

"I've seen all of your movies." Wait-what year was it? "I mean—you're going to be a great movie star."

"Aw, thanks." She rubbed my arm. "I hope so."

"Wait a minute." I swiveled in my stool. "Are you here all on your own?"

"Well . . ." She looked around. "My boyfriend went to the bathroom. I wonder where he went?" She giggled.

I glanced at the bartender. "Champagne."

He grinned. "Coming up."

* * *

We finished the champagne. And another bottle. Marilyn's boyfriend wasn't anywhere, so I paid the bill and led her out the door.

A fountain blew water high in the air. Marilyn laughed, and kicked off her shoes. "Come on Tim! Let's have fun!" She jumped into the water.

I pulled my shirt off. "Coming!"

The water wasn't deep. Marilyn waded in her bare feet, pulling her skirt up. I could see her panties, wet from the water. I pulled my shoes off and followed her into the fountain.

My cock was throbbing as Marilyn danced, kicking water around her legs. I pulled off me shoes, my socks, and yanked my jeans down.

"Oh!" Marilyn giggled. "Well, hey, that's all right." She threw her dress off. Naked, she dropped down on her knees.

She started stroking my cock. Maybe the time machine got me back up. I was hard, throbbing, even after fucking Bettie Page just a few minutes ago.

I leaned back. "You don't have to—I mean . . . Ohh . . ." I groaned as the young Marilyn Monoe began sucking my cock. "Yes . . . yes . . ."

"Mmm . . ." She stroked my balls. I reached forward for her bare shoulders. The fountain waters sprayed us as she sucked my cock.

After a moment, right before I was about to cum, Marilyn sat back and rolled over at the bottom of the fountain, lifting her hips. "Come on, Tim. Do me. Do it!"

Her legs were wide. Her breasts were perfect. I leaned forward, grasping her hips. "I love you, Marilyn."

"Norma . . ." She moaned as my cock penetrated her pussy. "I'm just Norma Jean."

"Yeah." I started thrusting. In and out, trying not to cum too fast. Her snatch was tight. I bent down to kiss her nipples. She moaned as I sucked, and twisted her hips as I rammed my hard cock inside her body.

"Oh," Marilyn moaned, her body trembling in the water. "Hard. Hard and heavy. Yes, yes, yes . . ." She grabbed my shoulders. "Yes, Tim, yeah, that's so good . . ."

I bent down, licking at the skin between her two perfect tits. I was going to cum. After taking ine last kiss of her nipples, I reared up. "Okay! Okay!"

"Ahh!" Marilyn came, her tits flushed, her hips shaking. "Yes! Yes! Oh, yes . . ."

We sank down, until the water from the fountain covered our shoulders. I kissed her. Hard. My dick slipped out of her pussy, but it was still throbbing.

I lifted her up. Her white dress floated in the water. We kissed, her legs wrapped around my hips. "Mmm . . ."

"Okay." A voice shook us out. "Get out and get your clothes on. And don't come back."

"Oh!" Marilyn slipped from my arms, giggling. "Sorry, sir. We just got carried away." She turned and reached for her drenched dress.

Two security guards. They smirked, leering at Marilyn's nude body. "That's fine, ma'am. Just, you know, you have to get dressed ow."

One of them glared at me. "You too. Get lost."

I searched for my jeans as Marilyn climbed up from the fountain, pulling her dress on. Would she be okay? I could escape any time I wanted to, apparently, but . . .

A car wheeled into the parking lot. The door opened. A man leaned out. "Norma? Come on. You've got an audition tomorrow. You should get some sleep."

Marilyn giggled. "Coming, Johnny." Then she turned to me. "Thanks, Tim. I had a great time."

"Uh . . . me too." We kissed.

* * *

"Wow." I gasped. "Marilyn Monroe. Wow."

The professor laughed. "Was that great? What next?"

I rolled over. Tired, but still horny. I sat up and grabbed a bottle of water. "Okay. Okay. Let me think."

He nodded, hitting buttons on his machine. "Anywhere you want to go, Timothy. Anyone you want to meet."

"Uh, Madonna?" I remembered her "Like a Virgin" video from years ago.

The professor frowned. "It's better if you go back longer than that. To people who are—well, gone. Otherwise it screws the timeline. Think harder."

I closed my eyes. Thinking back to my first porn films. I hated to think that I was trying to pick dead pornstars. Not Seka, not Brandi, not Janet . . .

"Xaviera." I leaned forward. "The happy hooker?" I'd found her book when I was 12. Jerked off to it for years."

The professor grinned and nodded. "That might work." He punched some buttons. "If I take you back long enough. Step inside. Get ready . . ."

* * *

XAVIERA

I buzzed the apartment doorbell. Nervous. What year was this?

The door opened. "Hi! You must be Tim?"

She had short blond hair. Tight white shorts hugged her hips and ass, and a thin blouse, unbuttoned halfway to her navel, showed that she wasn't wearing bra. I could see the edge of her tits.

"Y-yeah." I held out a bouquet of flowers. Where did I get them? No idea. Maybe the prof had set this up. Anyway—"Hi. These are for you."

"Aren't you sweet!" Her voice had an exotic foreign accent. She took the flowers and ran into a nearby kitchen to find a vase. "Get comfortable!"

I sat down and kicked my shoes off. After a moment she came back, planting the flowers on a table. "They're beautiful. Thank you so much!"

I searched my pockets. Had the professor given me any money, along with the flowers? I remembered that Xaviera was a hooker—the happy hooker—and she wouldn't just do me for fun like Bettie or Marilyn.

I found a wad of cash in my rear pocket. I didn't bother counting it out. "Here. This is—for you."

Xaviera smiled. "That's nice too." She sank down on the couch next to me. "Now what do you want to do first?"

"Uh . . ." I kissed her. Once, then twice. "Just one thing . . ."

"Yes?" She chuckled, pulling my T-shirt up and running her hands up and down my chest.

"How do I, uh, say your name? I read all of your books, but is it, you know, Exz-viera, or—"

"Books?" She laughed. "I haven't written any books. Maybe someday. That's a good idea." Then she kissed me, hard on the lips. "Zah-viera. Like this." She kissed me again. "Zah-viera." She tongue sank down into my mouth.

I clutched her arms, breathing hard. "Zah-veria.

She leaned back, pulling her shirt open. I gazed at her tits. Then I pulled at her shorts.

In a moment or two we were both naked on the couch. My cock sprouted up. "Oh, my." Xaveria grinned. "That's a nice one."

"Th-thanks." I didn't want to ask if she said that to everyone. "Could you, uh . . . suck it? Please?"

Xaveria laughed. "Of course. That's what I do best. Among other things."

She bent down and took my cock between her lips. Stroking my shaft, she sucked softly, delicately, her tongue running up and down as I twitched on the couch.

I reached down to grab her tits. She moaned as I squeezed them. I bit my lip, trying not to cum right away.

"Oh, yeah," I murmured. Her tits were young and firm.

Xaviera leaned back. "It's time for something else, isn't it?"

"Y-yeah." I sat up. "Can I—can we-"

"Of course, silly." She laughed and rolled over onto her knees. "Do you want it this way? Or something else?"

I dropped down and grasped her hips. I thrust my dick deep into her pussy. "That one time—in your book—down in Puerto Rico—you had an orgy with four guys? I jacked off to that for weeks. Ohh . . ." My cock surged.

"Puerto Rico? I'm going there next week. I didn't . . . oh, that's nice, Timothy. Oh, oh oh . . ." She panted. "Just because I'm a hooker doesn't mean I don't enjoy sex. Keep doing that, Tim. Fuck me—fuck me—fuck me hard, yes, yes . . ."

I came, hard, my cock spasming as Xaviera came too. Or at least pretended to. I bent down to kiss the back of her neck.

"Mmm," she moaned.

We slumped on the floor, hot and naked and sweaty.

Xaviera rolled over and stood up. "That was nice."

I grinned. "Yeah."

* * *

The professor glared. "You almost fucked that up. Telling her what was going to happen."

"Whatever." I stood up, yanking on my pants. "Where to next?"

"Hmm." The prof turned back to his control panel. "Let me see . . ."