By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2008 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Evan slouched wearily in his seat and took a deep breathe.  He could smell diesel, hear an engine’s roar.  He loved buses.  Loved their shapes and the routes they took.  Loved that so many people could afford to ride them.  He was moved by the lives etched on the faces of the rainbow of travelers, the friendly and informative communications of the drivers.  Buses had been his gateway to so many experiences.  The whole culture was his home, and being in that environment soothed him.

“Evan!  Evan!  Evan!”

The boisterous chant startled him out of his reverie.  It spilled out of windows, as the bus rolled down Main Street.  Pedestrians stopped to wave.  Drivers honked their horns at the raucous young athletes, exploding with sexual energy after so many months of intense training.  So many difficult weeks of celibacy.  Impatient to start their celebrations, they ducked down behind seats to steal sips from bagged bottles of beer.  The driver let them get away with it because, for the first time in history, the little town of Falcon had watched one of their own college boys run the mile in under 3:30, shattering the world record, assuring him a place on their country’s Olympic team, and their town a place in history.

“Evan!  Evan!  Evan!”

Evan sunk low in his seat, smiling.  He was both exuberant and exhausted.  He closed his eyes, freeing his mind for the replay that lost none of it’s glory in the rerunning:  The tension in the arena had been palpable.  As the bell rang out, sounding the final lap, Evan adjusted his weight to his maximized forward position.  Leaning his body into the wind, he began his awe inspiring sprint to the finish.  The crowd jumped to its feet and their screams echoed throughout the stadium, lifting him to weightlessness, freeing his legs to gallop furiously, past the one runner in front of him, gaining on lead, racing toward victory.  Nothing could stop him.  He knew that he was breaking all records, even as he experienced it.  But, while it was heavenly, even in memory, Evan was much more interested in what was to come.  More had been promised and the very thought of that possibility sent hormones and horniness, intense erotic currents, flaming through his body and straight to his groin.

“Wanna’ swig?” his seat mate, Johnny Fargon asked, offering Evan a beer.  “Man, nobody expected what you pulled off today.  You were prime, man.  Did you do any extra training?  We just didn’t see it coming?  Now you gotta’ win it for us.  The whole enchilada.  T-h-e Gold.”

“I’ll do my best, but now I just want to know if the rest is true.  Is there a prize coming?”

“You mean your session at Belle’s?”

Johnny puffed out his chest and crossed his legs, obviously preparing to dispense some very important and privileged information.

“All he needs is a cigar,” Evan thought, amused.  Johnny was the perfect little caricature of his pompous banker father.

“Oh yeah.  My dad told me all about Belle’s.  It’s all very hush-hush, but my dad says that there’s magic in that house.  That anyone who goes there is doomed to return, again and again.  No matter how much it costs and my dad says it costs a pretty penny.  I asked him how he knew and he got this funny look in his eye.  Believe me, he knows first hand.  Anyway, I’m glad.  He got real sad after my mom died.”

“I know.  I heard.  I’m real sorry about your mom.  Both my parents died in a car crash.  A drunken driver killed them.”

“I’m sorry about that, too.  I knew you’d understand.  Anyway, I begged my dad to take me with him to Belle’s and that’s when he told me about Belle’s promise:  A free session for any boy or girl who makes it to the Olympic team.  Apparently, Belle won a silver medal in swimming some years ago and wants to encourage the athletes.  My dad advised me to try and make the team.  Win the prize.  That’s why I worked so hard.  For my dad.  To get to go to Belle’s.  My dad says, nobody’s ever won it.  Not till you.  Not till now.  But, you won’t get Belle.  You’ll get one of her girls.  My dad says Belle has no more than one personal and very important client at a time.  But anyway, all we guys are jealous!  I can’t tell you how much.  We get to have dinner in the restaurant.  You get to work up an appetite first.  I am j-e-a-l-o-u-s!”

“Sorry, but there’s no sharing this one,” Evan laughed, “and I’m sure pumped.  How long till we get there?”

“About twenty minutes and you should be more than pumped,” Johnny said, stooping to take another swig of his beer.  “You must of seen Belle.  Everybody’s seen the fox!  And her girls are just as gorgeous.”

“I’ve seen her,” Evan said. “I’m going to grab some more shut eye before we get there.”

“You do that, bro.  You’ll need your energy,” Johnny snickered, getting up from his seat.  “I’ll get out of your way.”

Johnny took his bag down from the overhead rack and placed it in his seat, assuring Evan’s privacy.  What a difference a race makes, Evan mused, twisting toward the window.  His team mates had hardly noticed him before today.  They didn’t know or care that Evan had made friends with the custodian who watched over the pool, who left the key for him on nights when the pool was dark and unattended.  He’d swim laps in the shadowy glow of nightlights.  Going beyond his capacity.  Just one more lap.  Nobody on the team was more determined than Evan to go to the Olympics and win that session with Belle.  No-one.  And he was counting on Belle.  Not one of the girls.  Belle.  It had to be Belle.

Evan sighed as he felt anxiety descend on him like a dead weight.  Secrets had a way of doing that, burdening the one who held them.  And he had two.  The first was his long established obsession with large breasts.  It had started with the models in his mother’s stash of dance costume catalogues, collected over years of producing dance recitals.  Evan would immediately flip to the belly dancers’ outfits.  Their models had the most flesh and curves.  The biggest titties.  How old was he then?  Maybe nine?  By high school, he’d made friends with a host of internet lovelies with breasts bigger than his head.  And so his fetish grew.  By the time he’d joined the university track team and begun serious training for the trials, by the time he’d started swimming laps late at night to improve his lung capacity and his stamina, he was an addict.  Every breast in the street, on the field or along the college halls called out to him, the larger the more urgent.  Every internet breast-full beauty teased his mind and cock with their lustful stares and promise of pussy.  It had been an extraordinary feat of discipline and will for Evan to give them up.  But, he had given them up, given up all sexual activity, until that night.  Which brings us to his second secret, born of Belle, one of his visits to the pool, and a night he would never forget.

His custodian friend had told him that the pool would be free after midnight.  Evan let himself into the pool area around 1:30AM.  All was quiet, at first, and then the sound of water, the sound of someone showering.  Someone preparing to use the pool.  Instinct held Evan silent and still in the shadows, as his eyes accustomed themselves to the night lights.  He thought he heard a chuckle and crept forward, enough to see the bank of showers.  The woman stood under the spray, her back curved, her breasts jutting formidably and threateningly forward.  Huge mounds poured out of her one piece black swimsuit.  Her head was thrown back, as she smoothed her long blond hair behind her ears.  It dripped wet past her high and firm buttocks.  And Evan recognised the goddess.  The woman was Belle.  Evan gasped as she ran to the diving board, tits bouncing and swinging, as she went.  She stood poised on tiptoe, arms raised above her head, her cleavage so long and impressive, so horny making that Evan could feel the rise of his cock, the pounding of his heart, loud under cover of the room’s semi-darkness.  Evan had stopped looking at his beautiful women.  Evan was in training.  Evan had been celibate for months.  He willed himself to leave, as his balls began to tingle and his hard-on was feeling too good pressed up against the silky fabric of his trunks.  But, he just stood there gawking.  A few low bounces off the board and then Belle bent her legs, dropping low.  Her huge tits flopped and then rebounded, as she took off into the air like a rocket.  He watched her transfixed, a bird in perfect flight, not believing how little splash she made as she entered the pool.  He watched her surface and turn onto her back, a floating mermaid, blond hair fanning away from her ghostly face.  He watched her set her breasts free, toss her bathing suit poolside.  Her humongous breasts, water-buoyed and beautiful, had claimed Evan’s mind, his body and his very soul.  So rapt was he, that he could hardly breathe.  And then came the deep growl of a man in heat, a nude figure swimming purposefully toward her.  An older guy and he looked familiar.  It came to Evan in a flash, the picture hanging in Convocation Hall.  Judge James Johnson, President of the University.  The judge was reaching out for Belle’s breasts, grounding himself to better fondle them, to nibble their dark rubbery nipples.  And still Evan watched.  How long did they kiss, twisting arms and legs and bodies into hot knots despite the waters flowing between them.  He could hear Belle’s moans as the judge drew her into the less deep, more manageable pool’s end.  She groaned even louder when he reached between her legs.

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you want me to fuck you right here?  Right now?” he taunted.

“Yes, please.  That’s so good.  Yes, fuck me.  Fuck me, Jamie.”

Evan hadn’t realized how close he was, how hard and good he’d been rubbing his cock, until he gushed hot cum into his suit and all down his trembling legs.  The dark protected him, as he rushed back to his locker and then to his dorm room.  He was no longer celibate and he hadn’t been since.  Belle invaded his dreams, waking him just as he spilled his love of her tits all over himself.  How many times had he fantasized that he was the one making her crazy, making her beg?  She mocked his celibacy by night and seemed to show up in the strangest places by day.  One day, he spied her in the library, and his cock got so hard that it ached, blue and painful.  He had to leave.  It was rumoured around school that the great Judge had scored the big one, the beautiful, rich and desirable Belle.  That is, until a few weeks ago, when it was rumoured that Belle had caught her precious Jamie with his pants down around his legs, accepting an enthusiastic blow job from his sixty year old personal secretary.  And that had been the end of the engagement.

“Evan!  Evan!  Evan!”

The chant started again just as the bus slowed.

“Wake up, young man.  Now is your hour.”

Evan opened his eyes to a sea of horny faces staring down at his.  They were all speaking at once, all wishing him well.  All nervous for him.  All wishing they were in his shoes.  Evan began gathering his things.

“Don’t worry about them,” Johnny was saying.  “We’ll keep them with us until you’re done.  Enjoy, man.”

Johnny walked with him to the door.  There was a discreet canopy over a simple brass address knocker:  #1.  There was a figure lounging in the doorway.

“Someone’s waiting for you,” Johnny hissed, “but it’s not Belle.”

Evan couldn’t help himself.  His heart dropped and heavy feet carried him slowly toward #1.  He turned, waving at the bus rounding the curved driveway toward the restaurant entrance, before continuing his fearful trek toward the sturdy wooden door and the slight figure framed in it.

“Hi, I’m Candy and I’m here to take you to Belle.”

“Thanks,” Evan said.  ‘To Belle’.  The very words sang an anthem in his head.  Inside the foyer, Candy took his jacket.  To the left, the living room was warm with earth tones and the smiles and faces of beautiful, alluring women.  The scent of subtle perfumes hung in the air.  Evan felt overwhelmed by the female energy that permeated the space, so alluring in its seductiveness.  So dangerous in its power.  Evan’s legs began to shake.  What had he gotten himself into?  As he passed the doorway, the women began to clap and shout congratulations.  The sounds were not as loud, but just as appreciated as the screams that had filled the stadium earlier.  Evan nodded his recognition and climbed the stairs on steadier limbs.

“We’re all so proud of you,” Candy said.  “Especially Belle.  She’s waiting.”

Candy turned and left Evan standing outside Belle’s door.  He could smell incense, something beguilingly oriental.  Panic again grabbed Evan by the throat.  “There’s magic in that house.  Anyone who goes there is doomed to return, again and again.  No matter how much it costs and my dad says it costs a pretty penny.”  Johnny’s dad’s words filled his head and Evan was about to turn and run when the door opened.

Evan looked down at Belle, so much smaller and so much more powerful up close.  Her pink lips were full and dark make-up accentuated her long lashes and brooding dark eyes.

“Our hero,” she murmured softly.  “Follow me.”

Evan followed her across the large airy room toward a big brass bed.  Her strong swimmer’s legs looked magnificent as she strode in her black stiletto sandals.  Black fishnet stockings and a the jewelled collar around her slender neck made her black strapless teddy and matching gloves all the more provocative.  Evan was too aroused to do anything but stare helplessly at the mounds of titty flesh that filled his mind to capacity.

“Are you a virgin, little Evan?  I think you are.”

Evan could only nod.

“I know what you need,” she said.  “I can see it in your eyes.  Now, undress for me.”

Belle sat on the bed watching Evan as he struggled out of his shirt and pants, undies and socks.  “I’ll show you how to strip for me one day, but you’re too raw now.  You’ll be spending a bit of time here.  You have a lot to learn.”

“I’ll move in, if you let me,” Evan said to himself.

Belle got up on her knees and began to stroke and squeeze her enormous breasts.  “Look at me,” she instructed, as Evan grabbed hold of his cock and bending over, his eyes wild with lust, came all over his own hands, spilling over onto Belle’s lush carpet.  “Go on into the bathroom and clean yourself up,” Belle laughed, pointing toward another door.  “Don’t worry about the carpet.  Just hurry.”

Evan fairly ran into the bathroom and quickly washed up.  He was embarrassed.  Mortified, in fact.  But all he wanted was to be with her.  He hurried back out to the bedroom.

“Lie down, Hero,” she said.

Belle crawled between Evan’s legs.  She oiled her hands and began to stroke Evan’s cock with sure hands.

“What do you want?” she teased.  “Shall I stroke you ‘til you come?”

“Yes,” Evan said.

“Or do you want me to kiss your cock with these full lips.  Make you come all over my pretty face?”

“Yes,” Evan groaned.  He couldn’t believe how hard his cock was already.  Belle began to stroke faster.  Evan didn’t want to come, but his erotic temperature was rising too fast.  “Wait,” he begged.

Belle slowed and shortened her strokes, but they were rubbing the spots that increased stimulation, and Evan couldn‘t stand it.  “Don’t stop,” he begged.  “Please don’t stop.”

Belle stopped touching him entirely and Evan began to cry.  Unbidden tears rolled down his cheeks.  “Good boy, now you’re feeling it.”  Belle slowly licked her lips.  She began to sway her hips.  “Belle doesn’t fuck just anybody.”  She got off the bed and stooped over to hook her fingers in the band of her panties.  She pulled them down as far as they could go, to where garter meets stocking.  She climbed back on the bed and situated herself on her pillows.  “Come to me,” she said, lifting one gigantic tit to her own lips.  She sucked her nipple hard, her face flushed red with pleasure.  She lifted the other up and out of its fabric cage.  It seemed to grow right in front of Evan’s face.  “Come and get it,” she teased.

Evan climbed up and over Belle.  He suckled one tit while massaging the other.  He grew harder as Belle groaned with pleasure.  “I love you,” he said, as his cock managed to slide into her pussy.

“Oh my,” Belle said, as he started to move, in and out.  “Harder,” she said, as he drove into her and she drove back.

Evan was suddenly conscious of the cringing squeak of an opening door.

“Evan!  Evan!”

“What are you still doing here?  The last bus has long rolled.  I was just finishing the books and noticed your office light still on.”

Evan opened his eyes to the amazing sight of Belle’s beloved tits hovering over his face, breasts so large that they strained the buttons and seams of the manly shirt of the bus uniform she insisted on wearing, although she owned the whole operation.  Evan watched as Belle’s sight settled on the huge and growing wet spot staining his pants.

“Such a dirty old man,” Belle taunted.

“That’s exactly what you’ve made me over the years.  Remember that summer when I was training for the Olympics, you kept me celibate and more horny than any man has a right to be.  It was frustration and the promise of relief that chased me and won that gold medal, so long ago.  And later, when you decided to give up the business and buy the bus fleet, I was right there by your side.  You haven’t let my head go since you stole my cherry, woman.  Since I first walked into your place and I was already in love with you, then.  Why haven’t you married me, Belle?”

“Back then, you were a star.  There were all the others.  You didn’t want little old me.”

“You were the only one I really wanted and you knew it.  You used our ten year age difference as an excuse for not taking a chance on love, on us.”

Belle was moving towards the door.

“Don’t you love me at all?  Belle, I’m fifty-five years old.  You’re sixty-five.  What on earth could we be waiting for?  Make an honest man of me before I die.”

The air got still, heavy and pregnant with possibilities.  As if a tropical storm was brewing.  Belle stopped at the door, locked it, and then turned very slowly back around to face Evan.

“Ask me again.”

“Will you marry me, Belle?”

Belle crossed the room and, placing her hands on his knees to help ease herself down, knelt between his legs.

She undid the top five buttons of her shirt.  Evan ogled the mass of still spongy flesh, her endless line of cleavage, as she unzipped his pants.  She began to stroke his sticky, spent cock.  She ran her tiny hand slowly and provocatively across her breasts.  She fingered her cleavage.

“What do you want?” she teased.  “Shall I stroke you ‘til you come?”

“That might take a while,” Evan said.

“Or do you want me to kiss your cock with these full lips.  Make you come all over my pretty face?”

“Just marry me, Belle,” Evan groaned.

“I will,” Belle said, as she lowered her head over his newly awakened cock.