I sat at the window and watched the three men who were out in the garden surveying the work. They are so different that it never occurs to me that they are the same. It is so bizarre. I observed Jeff in his battered denims with a black wrung out T-shirt over a long sleeved grey one- who dresses him in the morning?- sporting a baseball cap on his unruly hair. He was scratching his balls as he listened and adding an occasional comment, his arms returning to a folded position. I took in his frame- beginning to veer towards stocky- and his stance, loose and hang-shouldered. Just Jeff.

He was listening to Terry who was standing there looking up at something, eyes squinting against the sun, hands lightly on hips, shoulders squared. I smiled at his demeanour- he was serious and intense, looked like he was briefing them, not showing them the final stages of the house renovations - but that's him. Just takes it all so seriously and never misses an opportunity to deliver a lecture. It suddenly occurred to me that he is no taller than Jeff but he always looks as though he is. It is simply the way he carries himself and fills a space - the effect is an illusion. I'll bet when they describe him people usually say 'tall bloke' and he isn't. Just larger than life, maybe?

Leaning back against the wall of the house, his face impassive and his eyes fixed on the other two, was our new arrival. Hando. I wasn't entirely sure why he was there. I think he invited himself- or did Terry ask him?- although I did formalize it on the board eventually. I haven't really worked out what his interest here is. There seems to be something he wants to discuss with Terry and I want him to sort out a bike for Terry's birthday. What I know about bikes wouldn't fill the back of a postage stamp, but if the boy wants one, he can have one. Just don't expect me to get on it. I'll wear the leathers but that's it.

Jeff leaves tomorrow now that his work is largely done. He and Paul are off to meet the parents at last- how cute. Their separation seemed to sort out a few things and they are back together, closer than ever. Terry flies off in a couple of days for a ten-day trip Stateside. Hando's visit will overlap- but not by much. Not sure what The Skin intends when we're alone. We both seem to be in quite a different place than where we were last time he visited in April, but you never quite know with that particular boyo. I'll deal with him later. But I keep getting this strange feeling that he wants to talk to me. Hando and me? Talk? Sounds like a contradiction in terms. Have wild sex? Possibly. Fight? Probably. Stalk each other like two angry dogs? Definitely. But talk? Who would have thunk it? But we did actually. Have a talk. One night on IM a while back. Amazing. So was the chat. It was not at all what either of us had envisioned. But I'll get to that later, too. Maybe.

The House? I think we should have gone away in the first place and let the workers just get on with it. More was done when we were away than when we were there. Or perhaps Paul did a brilliant job. Or perhaps it was at that stage when things finally fell into place. Whatever is the case, we are almost there, apart from minor decoration things and a floor here and there. We intend to move in next month and Terry has promised to keep October as free as possible to help. I have my doubts. He will go stark raving mental if he has to spend a couple of days unpacking boxes and hanging curtains. It's the sort of thing guaranteed to make him explode. Unless he's with a client. Then he even knows where they keep the candles. Ha ha ha. My money's on "Something unavoidable came up. Someone kidnapped the neighbour's cat" or something equally earth-shattering. Just you watch.

My eyes wander off again to the three men in my garden and I feel a sudden burst of pride and happiness at the sight of them. It wells up inside me and almost comes zinging out of the top of my head. They catch my eye- Jeff winks and Terry nods. Surprisingly Hando smiles. You never know with them. They constantly astound me. Terry makes a drinking motion. I open the window. "You want a cuppa?" The three look at me like I have had a full frontal lobotomy and need special treatment. "Beer, love. Three tinnies. When you're ready."

That tone drives me nuts. Feel like shoving the three cans up their arses. Then I remember. I love these guys. Suppose I better tend to their needs. Now which rule is that, your majesty...?

Hando is not exactly the world's preferred house-guest. It was an awkward few days. Terry and he talked quite a lot, closeted in the study and often on the phone. I was very curious but neither of them volunteered any information. If I asked Terry he just said, "Business." You never get anything out of him in that mood.

During the day, Hando spent a lot of time with the workmen, labouring and chatting to them. They seemed wary of him but intrigued and their own right wing notions were not so much less obnoxious than his were. It kept him occupied and out of my hair.

"So...what about this bike then?" Hando asked me after Terry had prised me off him and driven away. "Any ideas? What's he like?"

I shrugged. "Dunno. Bike, I suppose. Two wheels and an engine and those curly handlebars."

Hando made a sort of growling noise in his throat.

"Well, I don't know, do I? You're the fucking expert. I don't ask you to pick out this season's look for me, do I?"  Well, I don't.

"Didn't he ever mention anything?"

"I dunno. If he did, I would forget. I'm like that. If something doesn't hold my interest I just drift off and let him ramble on. Choose something nice. Not too gawdy. I like elegant colours."

"It's a fuckin' bike, love, not a party frock. Leave it with me. I'll ask around. Someone will know- O'Leary probably."

"He'll say- get it with training wheels or something like that!" I laughed. Hando looked up at me with his impatient look. I was pushing my luck.

He dragged on the end of his cigarette and flicked it into the ashtray. "So, are we or not?"

"Not what?" I replied, sorting out some clothes for the laundry.

"Gonna fuck." He has no trouble getting his point across. I turned round, my arms full of shirts.

"You expect me to drop everything and take you back upstairs to the bed I just got out of with Terry and have sex with you?" I put on my 'you are joking' voice.

"Yeah...you've got other beds, if you're fussy. Do it down here if you prefer. That kitchen table looks a good height..."

"In your dreams, mate. I've got things to do..."

Oh dear, wrong approach. "Yeah. Fuck."

He grabbed me from behind and pulled me down onto his knee, throwing the washing on the floor and coming straight in for a deep tongue kiss. I choked slightly at the sudden assault and squirmed to get away but he held me fast with one hand while running the other up my skirt.

"Been watching you two get it on all week. My time now." What do you do with Hando in this mode? Lie back and enjoy it, mate, 'cos it is going to happen whatever you say and you know you'll enjoy it.

I am probably going to shock some of you now. Is it just me? But as sick as it should have sounded, I got this sudden kick out of what I was about to do. I mean, apart from the obvious orgasm-to-come kick. The crude notion of Hando slipping in on another man's leavings made me hot and horny. I think it worked for him, too. It felt slutty. I felt slutty.

We didn't make the bedrooms but we did end up on the pile of dirty laundry - sex- scented sheets and shirts that smelled of another man. Can't get much sluttier than that, can you? Hando just tossed me down, ripped open the buttons of my blouse and attacked my black lace bra with his teeth. The denim skirt was simply hiked up, the knickers history and he had his dick out and in before I had time to catch my breath. It was quite simply horny rutting on the floor. No marks for technique, foreplay, seduction or style. But I was screaming in seconds; he was grunting and we just set to each other's bodies in a feeding frenzy. Dirty sex. Dirty laundry. Dirty girl.

Well, that cleared the air nicely. As I staggered to my feet and tried to restore some semblance of dignity to my state of dress, Hando lay back, lit up and stretched lazily, watching me as I covered my nakedness. He wasn't in the least concerned about his own, lying there, still semi-erect, sticky and sweaty, like your worst fantasy- undiluted male, sex personified.

"Stop looking at me like that." I snapped as I pulled on my skirt.

"Like what?" He blew out smoke slowly and kept on looking like that.

"Like you've just ...taken what you want. Sort of sneer. King of the jungle and one of the harem has just rolled over for you..."

"Well, you did. And I have. No point pretending, love. I just banged you on the floor. Not exactly hearts and flowers, is it? Just sex. Raw sex. And you wanted it...don't get enough of that, these days?"

I ran my hands through my hair and shot him a middle finger. He laughed and rolled over, catching my leg and pulling me down. I tumbled next to him and put up my arms to protest. He caught them and held me down, using his body to press me to the floor and prevent me from hitting him.

"Not very ladylike, is it, love? But then you're not really a lady at all, are you? Just a hot little cunt with a few airs and a poncy accent. You don't fool me."

I fell back and started to laugh. He watched me curiously. "H...can we stop this crap? OK, so you do it for me...and apparently I have been ringing your bells all week, too. But the rest. Crap. Bullshit. Bollocks. You want to talk to me and you are embarrassed so you start all this power stuff. Not working. Know you too well. What is it, div-head?"

At first he scowled and then he paused. "Let's get a fucking shower and clean up. Go for a walk. I need some air."

So we did. Shower- no sex but a bit of investigating with a wash cloth- dried off and dressed. Thus purified we set off down the road to the wood at the bottom. There were already a few leaves crunching underfoot- late September and the first hint of the coming fall.

"I've got some things happening over the next few weeks. Gonna be out of commission for a while." He suddenly said that out of the blue.

"Why tell me?" I wasn't going to feed him lines. We took a small path that led through the rhododendron bushes down towards the small duck pond. I felt the breeze rifle up my hair and tried to calm it down with my hand; Hando kicked at a stone and scored some imaginary goal.

"That time we talked on IM. You said some very strange things. I want to know what you were getting at. All of it."

"Why?" I thrust my hands deep in my jacket pockets and watched him; I knew exactly what he meant but I wouldn't let on.

"Because I do. So talk...it's the other thing your mouth was made for." I threw him a glance but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

"I'm sworn to secrecy. I am not supposed to tell anyone."

"You ever been tortured?" I shot him a look but he was grinning. A joke. See what I mean? You just never know what he will do next.

"Look...I get this feeling that certain things have become very important to you and because, despite the fact that you are an arrogant son of a bitch and I am diametrically opposed to almost everything about you, I actually find myself a little in love with you. For that I will take serious issue with the Goddess of My Libido- but that's another matter. So, on account of my unfathomable attraction to you, I will tell you what I know - but I'm warning you, you dickhead...if one word of this leaks out, I will personally skin you and use your colourful pelt for a throw. OK?"

And so as we strolled along, the unlikeliest Hansel and Gretel ever to stray into the wood, I filled him in with the full story of the vague hints I had offered him the last time we had talked. The morning was clear with clouds scudding fast in a blue sky. There would probably be rain later. This is England.  With a nervous cough, I dropped my protection of brittle modern woman and let him have a chink of my heart. I didn't even feel surprised when he took my hand idly and played with it as I rambled; he listened and said nothing, allowing me to finish with no apparent surprise at the revelation. It was as though he had already worked it out and merely wanted it from my mouth for his own confirmation. He is so much more intuitive and intelligent than he likes anyone to think. I felt a sense that I had risen somewhat in his estimation and I was not sure why.  His opinion of woman is so complex that it would make Bud's neuroses appear like nothing. His only comment was. "You going for this?"

I looked down at the ground, my hands thrust deep into my pockets. "Not that it's anything to do with you, but yes."

We walked on in silence. "Hope it turns out. Be rooting for you. And him." Our eyes met. There was such a different expression there than I have ever seen before. I saw the inside without the wall. It was stark and beautiful and savage. But he meant what he said. I nodded my thanks.

"And you? What's this big thing you got planned? Has Terry got something to do with it?"

"None of your fucking business, love." He walked ahead, changing from the ambling pace we had taken previously to a strutting swagger.

"Oi...I just told you a very confidential secret..." I couldn't believe how he could turn the poignant moment and in an instant be the cold, brash manipulator again.

He didn't even turn round to answer. "You'd be a shit spy."

I ran after him. "You bastard...Hando...tell me... go on...Terry knows..."

"Ask him then."

"He won't tell me...awww, go on...." I jumped on his back; he hoisted me up and swung me round, roaring

"You ever tried pain? Torture?" He bent over and threw me over his head so that I slithered on to the pavement, but I noticed he lowered me gradually where he could have unceremoniously dumped me on my bum. Chinks are beginning to show in his armour, too.

"What? How could I torture a man who has his skin pierced and tattooed for pleasure? Refuse to have sex with you?" He stood looking down on me, lighting up a cigarette, his mocking smile forming.

"You can't, I'd have it anyway..."

"Bite your dick, then?"

"I'd take your fucking face off." He is so charming.

"Make you eat my cooking?"

"Fucking hell...you some kind of sadist?" We started laughing and he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and ran for the duck pond.

"Hando...if you fucking dare throw me in, you big galah. I'll...."

"Hello...Uma...Terry away again?"

Hando stopped and let my body slither to the ground. We both turned to the voice. It was my next door neighbour, Felicity, walking her dog- one of those little yappy things that get on your fucking nerves. She works for Daytime TV - that sums her up in two words - and is married to a director of programming at Central. Has been making up to Terry since day one. I reckon she's a swinger, myself. She can bloody fuck herself swinging before she gets her well-manicured hands into his pants.

"Oh it's you? Why aren't you at the studios hypnotizing the masses with chronic Daytime Drivel?"

"It's my day off. But I see you are spending your days as usual. I am so impressed by how sociable you are. Such a good hostess. Terry would be thrilled to know about all the entertaining you do behind his back."

I breathed deeply. Opened my mouth but Hando got there first. He sort of jumped at her and roared loudly in her face. It was quite unbelievable- like a gorilla in full attack. She paled, stumbled back and stood on her dog, which started yapping. Hando took a step forward and she and the dog got the message. They ran. Oh God, it was so funny that the two of us just fell on the ground and laughed. Just hope Terry sees the funny side of it when she tells him. Because you know, and I know, the bitch will. Can you see what she will say...?

Hando and the remaining workman clicked in a most amusing way. There was a flooring specialist laying an Amtico floor in the kitchen the next day and Hando took up a position at the door perched on a stack of tiles, smoking. Kev, the floor tiler, was hard at it and did not seem to be in a very good mood.

"You seen enough, mate?" Kev muttered as he applied screed.

"Where's your boy?" Hando asked, ignoring the question. Kev had a sidekick, some sort of apprentice who had failed to show today.

"Little wanker had a skinful last night and his Mam says he wasn't fit for work. I'd have kicked him out of bed. Not fit for work? These kids today are soft. No backbone. They haven't got a fucking clue what it takes." Kev carried on muttering as he worked. Hando stubbed out his cigarette- in one of my plant pots, I might add- and pulled off his shirt.

"Need some help? Doesn't look hard," he added, dismissively. Kev gave him a look. 

"It's a highly skilled field, you bastard. But you can do some fetching and carrying. I'd appreciate that. Here, rip open a few boxes and lay them out. I'm looking for corresponding grains..."

Off they went, Hando setting to with gusto, clearly enjoying the physical activity. They worked largely in silence, occasionally grunting over at each other or stopping for a cigarette and a cuppa. During one of the tea breaks, I overheard them chatting.

"You an Aussie then?"

"Yeah."

"Spent a year there - me and the wife, before we got married. Traveled and worked at this and that- pub work, farm labour, you know?"

Hando sniffed. "Place is full of Poms. Almost as bad as Chinks."

Kev laughed and gesticulated towards the art gallery on Hando's upper body."Bet you love Pauline Hanson. Time you grew out of that shit. Been there myself when I was your age. National Front. Was on a real hard crew. Football specials. Used to go all over Europe and join up with the German boys to beat the shit out of the Turks and the Africans. Like animals we were."

"You don't belong now?"

"Naw...fucking lunatics. Most of my old mates are banged up or dead. I met a decent woman who said- them or me. She wouldn't let them over the doorstep. She was right. Now I've got a few kids and I would hate for them to grow up with their heads full of that shit. It's a new world order now. You accept it or it will leave you behind."

Hando shrugged. "Everyone has their own opinion..."

"Exactly. So do the fucking blacks, mate."

I smirked at that and Hando didn't reply. Kev, however, went on. "But you've got some great tatts. Got a few myself. The wife likes them. She says they're sexy. What do you think of this one?" Kev dropped his pants and flashed his buttocks, resplendent with two Chinese dragons. I winced from my vantage point at the door. Hando was impressed and the pair of them were away, discussing the finer points of the art of body decoration.

"How d'ya know Lady Muck, then?" Kev asked as they returned to the job in hand.

"Uma? She's OK. Can't help the way she talks." Hando replied gruffly.

"Would ya slip your dick up there, though, mate? Hot stuff, eh?" Kevin laughed crudely.

Hando frowned. "She's a mate. Nice bird. Watch it, hey?" I grinned at his defence. Might not have been as elegantly declared as Jack 'Take that back, sir, this instant, or I shall insist on satisfaction!' as forcefully as Terry 'Fucking try it, mate, and it will be the last post for your dick. You got that?' or as brutal as Bud 'Bif! Bang! Pow!' But it was a sweet sign that Hando does have a threshold where his women are concerned.

"Sorry, mate...didn't know you and her were...thought she was with that other Aussie. The stiff. 'How do you do? My name's Terrence Thorne....' Bit of a stuffed shirt- what is he army or something?  Looks a bit like you, though...but can't quite imagine you two are brothers..."

"She's his sheila. I'm his Brother. We just took different life paths. Just watch your step, mate. OK?"

Kev nodded and they fell back to their matey silence. Hando worked all day on the floor and seemed keen to pick up the skill. He learnt quickly and listened intently. Somehow his natural urge to advance himself touched my heart. He is like an empty slate waiting to be written on; unfortunately life has filled it up already with something dangerous, but he is slowly erasing the bad and rewriting it with something more worthwhile. But I am no fool. His beliefs are deep-seated and the damage done is done. I wonder at the dichotomy in his head and if it will ever have a consequence.

I pulled my head from under the duvet cover and crawled to the pillow. "Put the light out! It's four o'clock in the morning!" Hando was sitting up, propped against the pillows and smoking, a bedside lamp shining on him, the soft glow casting shadows on his stubbled face and head and the chiseled contours of his sculptured physique. He ignored me and continued to stare off into space, his long, almost feminine, eyelashes scooping against his lower lids as he blinked. His hand raising and lowering the cigarette was the only movement in his stillness.

"Put that cigarette out!" I moaned and pulled the cover over my head. Of course he took no notice. "Hando! This is my bed. Put the fag out and turn off the light. I'm trying to sleep!" I sat up and tried to grab it from him, he raised his right hand and caught mine in his left.

"Fuck off."

"Hando!" I shrugged him away and sat next to him, resting on my own pillow. "What is it?"

"Can't sleep."

"I can see that. What's on your mind?"

He turned his head slowly, his eyes narrowed and his expression malevolent, nostrils flaring slightly. I was entering his personal space and like all animals, he was uneasy and ready to bare his teeth. "None of your fucking business. Go back to sleep. Or make yourself useful and suck my dick. What would do you do for Action Man if he couldn't sleep?" He sneered.

"He always can - but Terry and I do something occasionally called 'Have a civilised conversation'. I know it's a bit hard core for you, but it works for us."

"So you suck his dick?"

I sighed and then saw the funny side of it. "That is sometimes the end result."  He snorted. We continued to sit in the darkened room, his light eyes glittering like shards of glass, hard and bright. He had things on his mind and it was nothing to do with me but I could guess that it concerned Teener. Hell, everything in his head concerned Teener. What a couple of months they had endured! How fantastically he had dealt with it, an unbelievably solid and constant support from a man who appeared up till then only to be able to access his own needs with the instinctive self-preservation of a wild animal. But that was unfair. He had always been able to care for others- had he not taken his role as the leader of a pack seriously?

He has no pack now. He has no herd of followers to worship at his shrine and bolster his self-esteem. He only has Teener. The Brothers and Sisters may be his world but they are hardly blind followers of the self-appointed Fuehrer. I wondered how he would replace that aspect of his learned behaviour in this future he was trying to draw for himself?

I snuggled down and rested my head on his belly, pushing back the cover to bare his groin and upper thighs. For a long moment, I just looked at him in his naked splendour, his left leg thrown out slightly, knee bent and his thick cock flopping harmlessly on his thigh, his big solid balls relaxed between. I love watching a naked man at rest and the casual arrangement of his genitals. And Hando is a remarkable specimen by any standard- and I have seen some remarkable naked men to judge him by.

He didn't speak or rush me for once but I know he was watching; I imagined his eyes half closed and the muscles in his jaw flexing as he willed me to give him what he wanted. His cock twitched and I smiled. He couldn't keep his natural response from me- his mind was already sending messages to him that a woman's mouth was in close proximity to his cock.

I picked up his cock and rested it in my palm; weighed the soft flesh and squeezed gently, the immediate reflex of hardening occurring as blood flooded into his organ. A slight shifting in his right leg revealed the sensation in his scrotum. Men are betrayed by their own desire.

Slowly I eased back the skin and bared the thick veined shaft, massaged it lightly and placed pressure on the pumping vein with my thumb; he tensed slightly in response. Within seconds he was hard and then harder still; I began to jerk him more smoothly and ran a hand down to warm his exposed sac and stroke it gently, ruffling up the coarse hair and rolling each ball in its turn. It is a most pleasurable task to tend to a man like this, when he is still and calm, before his body drives him to reach out and take what he wants.

A trickle of clear fluid peeped at the hole; I squeezed it out onto my forefinger and licked it slowly, raising my eyes to his. He acknowledged the intimacy with an angling of his head. 'Go on,' it said.

My face dropped closer and I pressed him to the skin of my cheek, inhaling the pungent scent of sex from him; we had made love rather wildly before we had slept and he had not washed- we had both crashed out afterwards, a combination of booze and sex with a few joints somewhere in the mix.

I licked and tasted the sour-salt taste; it revolted and aroused me. With a lewd snaffling noise, I slipped my lips over his girth and sucked hard, flicking with my tongue and curling it to change the rasp of my touch. He is no different from any man- he can only take as much stimulation as them all and he is panting and driving to thrust and fuck, the male imperative.

I felt his hands ease my face away from his body and push me onto my back. "Your turn. Open your legs. I want to see your cunt."

I lay back and obeyed him, displaying myself crudely. I was sticky and wet with his come and, he smiled, "You stink of me." Only he could make of that an erotic endearment. "Do it for me. I want to watch." As he said it, he touched himself and began to jerk slowly, cupping his own balls and licking his lips.

"Tell me what you're thinking of," I demanded as I let my fingers brush down my body, pinching my nipples to hardness and then sliding on to my groin. I poised, my fingers, playing with the soft hair of my pubes. "Make me come with your words."

Hando inhaled deeply. "You are lying there on your new patio. Where we stood the other day: me, Jeff and Terry. On a sun bed. You are wearing a tiny pair of bikini pants. Nothing else. You think you are alone and you are reading something. A story. A diary. Your cunt is itchy, wet already with what you're reading. You don't know you are doing it but you start to play with a wisp of hair - your finger slips inside your panties..."

His hand was gripping himself hard; this image in his head was getting to him. It was getting to me. My fingers slid through the thick wetness and I played with my clit, pulled at my lips, stimulated and enjoyed myself and the knowledge that he was watching every move of my crude display.

"But I'm not alone?"

He grimaced and grunted. "No...we are there, three men are there...watching you."

I gasped at his words and wondered if he had had this image last week when we were all together. I imagined him wanking off at night to it when Terry had still been there. It disturbed and aroused me. I thought of Teener's dream and had another flush of desire. "Tell me more."

"Where do you keep it?"

I knew what he meant and pointed to the top drawer of my bedside table. He leant over me and opened it. I grabbed his erect dick and sucked as it swung near me, he swatted me away. In his hands was my favourite toy of the moment- Voyager- and a tube of lubricant.

"Three men are watching as you strip and throw one leg onto the floor, you are so fucking wide- we can see it all. Your eyes are closed and your head falls back. We don't notice anything but your cunt. Christ, we can smell it. Your fingers are sticky with yourself, you raise your hand and lick your own juice and then spit on your middle finger and slip it in. Fuck...you can smell the men. They want it so much. Our dicks are so hard, they fucking hurt. We circle, don't speak, look at each other..."

We were both panting. Hando stopped and squeezed lube on the glass dildo. "What do you want us to do?"

The ball was in my court. I closed my eyes and imagined the scene. My God, it made me sweat. What would happen? What would happen in his fantasy? What would happen in mine? Would they be the same?

"My eyes are closed. I don't want to see. But I want them to fuck me. I whisper to them to strip and take me. Whatever. However. Use me. Three men. But I don't want to know who they are or who does what. I hear the sounds of zips and belts being discarded, clothes cast aside, feel movement, know that they are around me. My fingers move more sensuously and I gasp as I know I am close to coming just at the image." My fingers aped the movement. Hando stopped and moved closer. I was unsure what he would do.

"I feel a shadow over me. I am dragged up and turned over on to my knees. Then the hard, fleshy nob of a cock pushes into my mouth. At the same time my legs are pulled apart and I feel the unmistakable grind of another cock against my naked buttocks. Then I am bodily lifted, there is someone beneath me and I am rested back on him. The cock is no longer in my mouth while this manoeuvre is done but then it is back, being rubbed all over my face until it is pushed back in and I gag at the size of it.

My body is lying on a man's, his hands are on my breasts, then his mouth, a cock is pressed against my dripping cunt from the back. I am beginning to lose the sense of where I am or what I am doing. My world is sensation. The cock. The cunt. Nothing more."

All the while I speak, Hando has watched me masturbate and then I feel his first move. His fingers covered with lube, he inserts the dildo and rotates it. The first cock. I groan and continue to finger my clit. Slowly he eases it in, swirling it around for maximum sensation and crudely muttering, "Swallow it up, fuck the dick...fuck the dick...open that little cunt and swallow it up...." I was wild now, filled with the cool slick penis, my clit hot and hurting, the pictures in my head pornographic. I think I was crying out, begging him but all he said was:

"What are they doing to you?"

"One dick is in my mouth. I can feel the balls slap against my chin and neck as he fucks hard. Another dick is in my cunt, he is pumping me real hard then he pulls out. The guy underneath wants in. They position me over him and lower me- straight in- my hole is already open wide...oh god....Hando...I'm going to come...."

"More!" he shouted and started to withdraw the Voyager. I squealed and complied. 

"The guy behind is rubbing my arse...up and down the crack with his dick...." Hando's lubed fingers mimic the movement. "Then he puts his thumb in, opens me up and pushed his cock in. It hurts a little. I try to speak but I can't. The dick in my mouth just slips further down my throat. I am helpless. Someone holds my breasts and twists the nipples until they hurt. I think I will die of sensation. Some one is rubbing my clit. I can hear the crude grunts and profanities as they rut into me..."

Hando inserted a finger inside my anus and I bucked. The second cock. He held me down until I had adjusted and then I felt him introduce another. With a slick movement he swiveled round and squatted over me pushing his cock into my open mouth. "Now, swallow me!" The third cock.

My brain exploded. Shattered fragments of myself shot into the aether as my whole body was reduced to tiny cells, each one shrieking out its pleasure-pain. I had a vision of the explosion of a supernova and the swirling waves of its power reaching to the end of a galaxy. The flood of hot wet semen that spattered into my mouth and throat woke me up and I felt the parts reform until I was one again and returned to the here and now. I was a woman. Lying naked on a bed in the arms of a painted man.

Around us lay the signs of our fantasy. Sheets ripped away to reveal the mattress, glass dildo smeared with lube and come, tube oozing out its thick cream, tissues scattered where he had cleaned me up. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"What was that?" I whispered into his ear as he nuzzled against me, spent and exhausted, his fingers playing with my hair.

"Fucking crazy. Jesus Christ you have a dirty mind, love," I heard his smile as he said it.

"What? It was your fantasy!" I argued languidly, running my hand over his scalp and the rough stubble of his jaw.

"Mine ended where we all got our dicks out and pulled our chains. But then I'm a man. Limited imagination. Not like you, you horny little bitch." But his tone was light and amused- and I knew he was lying. Hando would not have thought of anything other than wanking over a naked woman masturbating? Please.

I pushed him away, straightened the sheet, wiped up the cream, threw the Voyager in the bathroom sink for the next day, and took a quick shower. Hando slipped in quietly and joined me, I washed him gently and he did the same for me. Then he held me against him as the warm water flowed over us.

"I want to tell you something. Keep it to yourself, hey...?"