Cover Girl

"Sorry Tim. Sure, that changes everything, of course. As you were," I replied, trying to blow his mind, even if my sarcasm was fairly obvious. I think it worked too. He was shocked I was giving him a green light to molest me in public on the subway. "If you're arrested, though, don't expect help from me."

That last remark woke him up to how outrageous (and illegal) he was being. He quickly removed his hand. I smiled to myself. Tim's stop was the same as mine, Astor Place. We were both NYU students, after all. Tim asked if he could walk me home, and I acquiesced. We talked as we walked, and except for the temerity of his boob fondle in the subway, and that's a big exception, he seemed like a nice guy.

He asked me, when we got to my door, if I wanted to see the new latest must-see movie? I had nothing going on with any men just then, so I said sure. We agreed on Saturday night. Just like that, I had a date. I kind of liked Tim, and I already knew my boobs liked him.

Three days later a bonded messenger came to my dorm. The package was for me. I was out at classes, and the messenger left the package with the doorman, once he had signed for it. The package was from Barneys, and I was puzzled, since the only clothes I had bought that memorable day, I had worn out of the store. I opened it up and texted Mary to come to my room ASAP.

I don't usually tell anyone to rush to my room, so Mary took my request seriously. She dropped what she was doing and rushed over. "I got the pictures," I said, "but I'm too scared to look at them alone." Mary agreed to be there for me, and she took the envelope of pictures and began to spread them out on our table.

Mr. Dixon included a note saying he was sending over "only" the best 50 pictures. There were also five envelopes within the big envelope. One was marked "Before," the second was marked "After," the third was marked "Kyle," the fourth was marked simply "X," and the fifth was marked "Mary."

"What shall we open first?" I asked. Mary did not wait for a reply and ripped open the envelope marked "Mary," and there before us were some high quality, professional photos, all of her giving Steve one hell of a blowjob. One picture showed Mary in the process of removing her bra. In the background Steve was undressing. Boy, that one was sexy. They were all sexy! Mary spread them out, studying them, as I looked on.

I never thought a girl could look attractive when she was blowing a man. In porn videos I had seen, the woman's cheeks often looked hollowed out, and her facial expressions were a bit contorted due to the sucking. I had not realized how much talent Mr. Dixon actually had, but looking at those picture, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

No surprise, Mary's boobs looked great as she serviced Steve. Mr. Dixon got a shot of her face as she blew Steve, on her knees, and she was looking up adoringly at Steve with her liquid eyes, right up to his face and probably right to his eyes. I had not realized before how pretty Mary's face truly was.

I guess I had never before really looked at Mary in an appraising way. She had always simply been my friend Mary. Seeing the photos changed my perception of her. She was a beautiful woman, and sexy as all get-go. That is the power of great pictures, I thought.

They were indeed great pictures. That Mary was a sweetheart shone through, even through the sex act of blowing a man! How could Mr. Dixon have captured that in just a photo? It was remarkable. Mary studied them, and then she scooped them into a pile and turned the pile face down on the table.

"You look good," I said.

"You don't lie well, Joanie. The photos are disgusting! I look like a tramp," she said, almost in tears. Then she looked pensive, and said, "Well, I guess I was in fact acting like a tramp just then, wasn't I?" and she giggled. "Cameras don't lie. I wish they did."

I wanted to say, "You sure were a tramp. Big time! But oh, my goodness, what a gorgeous tramp!" but I was too kind, and I stayed silent.

"I'm seeing Steve Saturday night, you know. Do you think I should bring the pictures?" Mary asked.

"We could double date? I'm going out with Tim, the guy who felt up my boob and tweaked my nipple in the #6 train, remember? This could be the most bizarre double date in history!" I said. "Let's look at the other pictures. No, not those," I said, as Mary reached for the "X" envelope. Mary then took the "Kyle" envelope.

We both knew the Kyle envelope would have the pictures with me wearing only my panties, and with me fingering myself, and with me completely nude, except for the high heels, all while assuming the supercharged sexy poses Mr. Dixon had choreographed it all for me. It was just as Mary expected, and as I had feared.

"I can't show these to Kyle, or to anyone!" I said. "They're pornographic!" Mr. Dixon had included even the picture of my right leg raised and resting on the railing, and worse, he also included the one with Mary eating me out in that same pose!

"Of course not, Joanie. Showing them to Kyle is my job," Mary said, as she grabbed the pictures. I tried to get them back, but Mary is taller than I am and she held them over her head. We wrestled around, and the photos scattered about the floor. Hearing the ruckus, one of our suitemates, Stephanie, walked into the room, saw the pictures, and took a double take.

"It's a long story," I said to Stephanie. "You see..."

"I've never seen such gorgeous pictures!" Stephanie exclaimed. "You look sexy as all get-go, Joanie. Wow. Sizzling! Who took those pictures? Can I get the same done for me? What are you going to do with them? OMG, look at this one! Hotter than the sun!" She had seen the one with my leg on the railing. Mary had quickly hidden away the one of her eating me out, thank goodness.

"Hey girls, come look at these pictures!" Stephanie yelled, speaking the words in staccato, machine gun style. Jane (who lives across the hall) and Daphne walked into the room, and Stephanie had scooped up the pictures from the floor and was handing them around. I was trying to hide in a corner, blushing.

Daphne said, "You cannot waste these on Kyle. He's a jerk. If I show some of them to Pete he'll get so hard I'll have the best fuck of my life! Can I borrow a few?"

"They'll come back stained with his cum," Stephanie laughed, joined by Mary, Jane, and also Daphne, after a pause. Finally, I joined in, and we all laughed about the pictures, while Mary and I told them the whole story, leaving out the parts about sex with Steve, or Mary's little lesbian/bisexual show. We do have limits, and we were both 'just a bit' ashamed of the public sex aspects.

For me at least, I was not 'just a bit' ashamed. No, I was out and out mortified by my behavior. I had also Jilled off four separate times, however, just to the memory of it. People are complicated, I said to myself, trying to reassure away my feelings of a monumental amount of guilt.

When things calmed down, we began to open the other envelopes. I had already hidden away the "X" envelope. I hid it at the bottom of my lingerie drawer. Somehow that seemed a poetic place to hide it. Mary had at the same time squirreled away the "Mary" envelope, too.

We opened the "Before" envelope. I was shocked. I looked beyond glamourous! Not only did I look like a professional model, I looked like a professional supermodel! My hair was blowing in the wind, I had that highly sought-after look of complete impassivity that Mr. Dixon wanted. My jacket in some of the photos was tantalizingly close to showing all of my boobs, as the wind blew the jacket more open than it should have been, but in the pictures included in the 'before' envelope at least, it was not quite getting there. Mary, Jane, Stephanie, and Daphne were all agog.

"My God, these pictures are over the top great!" I said, before realizing I was in effect bragging in front of my friends. Luckily, they agreed enthusiastically, and did not seem to notice my spontaneous outburst of inadvertent bragging. Mary was nodding vigorously and happily. She too was awestruck by the photos. I spread the photos out in a line across the table. Stephanie and Daphne both appeared to be stunned. Jane was frozen in place. I reminded them of when we all got stoned, and of the cover of Glamour, which started all of this.

"You look heavenly, Joanie. I'm proud to know you, to be your friend," Daphne said. Mary and Stephanie quickly concurred.

"You're laying it on a little thick, Daphne. All of you are," I said.

Let's look at the "After" pictures," Mary excitedly said. My hands shook as I opened the envelope. I spread the 'after' pictures out on the table, with the analogous poses just below the 'before' ones.

"Holy shit," I said. "Mr. Dixon was right." The "After" pictures were an order of magnitude better. My eyes were dreamy, my skin had a rosy glow, and I was radiating good feelings right through the camera lens. Being sexually fulfilled reflected itself through my face in a way I could not exactly specify. But it was there, no question about that. No question at all!

There was really no comparison between the two sets of pictures. The 'before' pictures were first rate, even wonderful, but no matter how good, even outstanding, the 'before' pictures were, the 'after' pictures were much, much better.

I texted Mr. Dixon saying what he must have already known was obvious. His pictures were wonderful, and he was right about the 'just after' pictures being better. (I was not going to put in a text that I had had sex during the photo shoot! I used the 'after' euphemism Mr. Dixon himself had created.) The 'after' pictures were not just better, they were orders of magnitude better.

Daphne, Jane, and Stephanie also thought the 'after' pictures were much better, but happily they bought Mary's 'explanation' that it was due to my having learned how to model better from the 'before' photo shoot.

Saturday night came quickly, and Mary and I did indeed double date. Mary and I got mildly stoned before the date, knowing there would be aspects of the evening that would be too weird to handle without some kind of help.

It was strange at first, since I had publicly fucked Mary's date Steve already, although Tim had no idea, and Tim had already groped and felt up my right boob in the subway, and of course Steve did not know that, either. I had not yet kissed either man. I had also not yet looked at the "X" envelope. Everything seemed so unreal, even surreal.

Mary and I explained to Tim who Steve was and how we knew him. Tim was impressed I had had a Barneys sponsored fashion shoot 20 floors above Fifth Avenue. Steve asked if I had seen the pictures yet. "There were five envelopes," I said. "We looked at four of them. Have you seen any of them?"

"I've looked at all of them. Many times, especially the photos in the envelope marked 'X'," Steve said, in an annoying, knowing manner. "I put the envelopes together, by the way. I selected the pictures to include for you. That's part of my job for Mr. Dixon," Steve said. "In my opinion, these are some of Mr. Dixon's best ever pictures. You're a great model, Joanie."

Steve turned to Mary and said, "I love the memory of the 'Mary' envelope." Mary blushed, and looked at her feet. She was smiling, happily. Steve reached for her hand. It looked tiny inside Steve's large paws.

Steve continued, this time looking at me, and said, "I especially liked the 'after' pictures. You really look different. Way better, in fact. I enjoyed my role in helping you to achieve the 'after' look."

Mary looked aggrieved, and cried, "Steve, you're my date tonight, remember?"

Tim looked completely baffled as to what was going on. I could tell that he wanted to ask, but probably he did not know where to begin, so he wisely stayed silent. We left and all went to a nice Italian restaurant in the village, finishing off two bottles of Chianti with dinner. The two men paid; I liked that. After dinner, I had a great buzz. I had a light buzz from the dope, and I was a more than a little drunk from the wine. Tim and Steve together had been constantly filling the glasses of both us girls.

"What shall we do now?" I asked.

"How about going over to Tim's room and having some group sex?" Mary joked.

It's dangerous to joke like that, because Steve quickly said, "Great idea. I'm game."

Tim looked at me. I shook my head, smiling as if Mary and Steve were great jokesters. "How about a movie?" I was not ready for sex with Tim; it was our first date! And I certainly was not ready for more sex with Steve! He was Mary's date, and if she wanted sex with him, that was her business. Leave me out of it, thank you very much.

We went to the Regal and chose a movie by its starting time. We found four seats together in the complete back row of the theater. By the time the previews were over, Mary and Steve were kissing. Tim looked at them, then at me, and I gave a non-committal shrug. Tim read it as a green light, and Tim and I kissed. He surprised me by giving me such sexy and lovely kisses that I felt it affecting me down below the Mason-Dixon line. That rarely happens to me.

When the movie ended, nobody said anything, we all four just kind of naturally walked over to Tim's place. He had his own room. It was a bit crowded, with all four of us in it, but we made it work. Tim got out a bottle of some nice Scotch whiskey. Mary and I were already drunk from the Chianti at dinner, but Tim pressured us at least to have a taste of the Scotch anyway.

It was good Scotch. It was damn good Scotch! I looked at the bottle, and it was aged 18 years. Well, that explains it then, doesn't it? We had a second taste, and another, and then yet another. It was dangerous for me. I lose inhibitions when I'm drunk, and at that point I was drunk. Hell, I was very drunk.

We began to play trivial pursuit, and somehow it morphed into a game of strip trivial pursuit. I was kind of relaxed, since obviously Steve and Mary had seen me naked, and Tim had already fondled one of my boobs, on the #6 train. After a while Mary and I were down to panties, and the men had a bit more clothes on. Mary and I were giggling almost constantly.

Mary and Steve began to make out, and Steve was having a grand time with Mary's pretty-as-a-picture boobs. Tim looked at the two of them getting hot and heavy, looked at me, and I gave him a 'why not?' shrug. Tim and I too began to make out, and Tim's hands were all over my boobs.

To my surprise, I was into Tim more than I thought I would be. On the other hand, maybe it was just the Scotch? After a while, my panties were off, too. Tim began to finger me and I moaned in reply. Both Mary and Steve knew the sound of my moans, of course, and they both stopped what they were doing to watch Tim and me go at it. Mary's panties were still on. Tim finished undressing, and I took the hint and grabbed his lovely erect cock. It was not an oversized cock, like Steve's was, but it was Tim's, and I liked it.

I moved Tim's hands away from my pussy, trying to calm myself down a bit, and in exchange I took his cock into my mouth. I will never win any awards for my blowjob talents, but Tim did not seem to mind. Giving blowjobs was my contribution to birth control, since I wasn't on the pill and certainly did not want an IUD.

Tim surprised me by exploding into my mouth without warning, only a minute or two after I had started to blow him. I thought to myself WTF, and I swallowed a lot of it, the rest spilling out onto my boobs. There was a lot of his spunk; I wondered if he had been saving it up?

I lay down and Tim resumed kissing me, and now he was fingering me. He did not seem to mind that no doubt the taste of his cum was still in my mouth. My eyes were closed, and if I had not been fingered just then, I might simply have drifted away, asleep. I worried I might fall asleep even while being fingered. Tim's fingering was blissful. It relaxed me.

Mary's moans jolted me back to reality.

I opened my eyes, and Mary was on all fours, with Steve's oversized cock completely inside her tiny pussy. Steve was holding her naked hips. Her boobs were swaying deliciously below her. Tim looked to be mesmerized as he watched them fuck. It was a first for me, and I imagine for Tim, too, to watch two people fuck right in front of us. We were rapt. Seeing it live, two feet away, with two people we knew, was quite different than watching porn actors and actresses going at it.

As we watched, I suddenly felt Tim's finger gently probing between my thighs. Being a cooperative sort of girl, I parted my legs. I figured with Mary and Steve fucking their hearts out, Tim was not going to be satisfied with just a blowjob, and doubtless a mediocre one, at that.

I did realize, of course, that I am in charge of my own body, and I should only do what I wanted to do. I was not ready to fuck Tim on our first date. On the other hand, I had spent the first 17 years of my life watching my mother do whatever a man ever asked her to do. Don't get me wrong; she did not sleep around or anything, it's just if a man ever asked her to do something, she did it quickly, well, effortlessly, and graciously.

I had absorbed this lesson from watching my mother, although I seem to have dangerously extended it, if you will, to sex. If a man wanted something from me, my instinctive reaction was to comply. I was passive, but always, it seemed, I was willing. That was why I did not date that often, even though my looks could have given me a date whenever I wanted one. I would have been fucking half the men of NYU if I had not been as careful as I had been. That particular night, however, I was careless.

I guess it also explains why I was so good at taking direction from Mr. Dixon at the photo shoot, even to the point of fucking Steve at his suggestion. And now I was watching Steve fuck Mary, and Tim was fingering me. I needed to make a decision to be prepared for the time when Tim wanted sex the old-fashioned way. It would not be long in coming, I felt sure.

As I was thinking these thoughts, lying on my back being fingered, Tim spread my legs wide apart. This should have warned me as to what was imminent, but I was lost in my reverie as I watched Mary and Steve go at it.

It wasn't until Tim climbed up on top of me and began to kiss me that I suddenly realized how imminent things were. Sure enough, less than a minute later, Tim's cock was poking at my entrance. His kisses were wonderful, filled with passion. I could not deny him, and when he entered me moments later, I sighed the sigh of every woman before me, when a man would enter her so beautifully.

Tim fucked me gently, a bit too gently, and I began bucking below him, silently willing him to pick up the pace, to use a little more power, to use a little more force, maybe even to use a lot more force! I did not want to be fuck-caressed, I wanted to be taken with authority. I wanted his cock to punish my feminine body with power fucking! I needed to be sexually punished after all I had done over the last ten days.

Steve and Mary had just finished, and Steve helped out by calling out, "Yeah, Tim. Fuck that bitch. She can really fuck, can't she? Look at her rise up to meet your thrusts. They don't get any better than her! Give it to her hard, she likes that!"

As if to emphasize Steve's cheerleading, I wrapped my legs around Tim, pulling into me deeper, not letting him go. I was passive no longer. I needed this.

Steve saw Mary's stormy look flash across her face at his remarks, and he quickly added, "Except for Mary here. Mary is the best fuck of my life. Wait until you take her out for a spin!"

Alarm bells rang in my head. My first thought, as Tim began to give me the pounding I had needed and craved, was 'Thanks, Steve,' but then it dawned on me; Could he have been subtly suggesting swapping? Or maybe even if it was not so subtle? Well, Steve and I had already fucked once before, I thought, what's one more time? What did Mary think about all that? Hell, wasn't it Mary who had suggested group sex in the first place?