Jo plumped the cushion and carefully positioned it until it was precisely at the right angle.  Nothing less than perfection would do.  Ricki, her friend of twelve years was coming to stay overnight and she would notice if the tiniest thing was out of place.

An impatient knock on the door signalled her friend's arrival.  Jo had a last look around the flat on the way to let her in.

"What took you so long," the blonde diva demanded as she dropped her overnight bag and rushed by Jo into the flat.  "I'm bursting!"

"Nice to see you, too!"  Jo laughed as she picked up the bag and locked the door.

Ricki hadn't bothered to lock the toilet door and Jo shook her head sadly as she watched her.  Norman, Ricki's macho shithead of a lover insisted that Ricki sat down to pee and sometimes without thought she did it even when the man wasn't around.

"You need to leave that creep," Jo said angrily as Ricki looked up and found her in the doorway.

"I am leaving him."

"What?"  Jo couldn't have heard her right.  Ricki's biggest fear was that Norman would pay someone to kill her if she ever tried to escape his clutches.  And though Jo was pleased to hear that Ricki was finally mustering the balls to leave the prick, she had always been as secretly scared for Ricki's life as Ricki herself.

"You heard me."  Ricki stood up and shook her penis before slipping it inside her French knickers and pulling her short skirt down.  Pressing the pump for a dollop of Jo's Molton Brown creamy rosé hand wash, she washed her hands and dried them on the nearby towel.

"I'm going to Barbados."

"Ricki, you don't know anyone in Barbados!"

"Actually, this is goodbye.  A final fuck and I'm off!"

"Are you drunk?"

"You know that I haven't touched alcohol in years."  Ricki was suddenly serious and Jo wished she hadn't brought the subject up. Ricki had developed an alcohol dependency within months of moving in with Norman and being literally turned into a nervous wreck of her former self.

Jo had met men who felt the need to belittle her or even try to physically harm her once they had satisfied their lust.  Her karate training usually prevented the latter, but she had been subjected to her share of verbal abuse and had given back as good as she got.  Norman wasn't physically abusive, though it might have been better if he was because most wounds inflicted to the body heal even if they leave scars.  Instead, he had the knack of sensing people's insecurities and taunting them beyond breaking point.  Jo had never met anyone who said nastier things, and without provocation.  It had taken all her willpower to keep going to Norman's mansion to visit Ricki regularly and keep her spirits up and possibly from committing suicide, but there had been no other choice-Norman had kept Ricki housebound for the first six months of their relationship.  Ricki had had free access to Norman's credit cards to shop as much as she liked online.  She could have had champagne and caviar for breakfast if she'd fancied them.  But, she couldn't have left the house if she'd wanted to.  Norman had assigned one of his minders to Ricki and the man had been almost like her shadow, only much more persistent and annoying.  But once he had broken Ricki to his will, Norman had given her the freedom to come and go as she liked, knowing that even a badly treated dog returns to its master.  By then she had been drinking heavily, starting the day with ‘hair of the dog' to get over her hangover.  As soon as the hangover was gone and she had been able to think clearly, she had needed another drink or two to take the edge off reality.  It had taken almost two years of Jo's support and bullying before Ricki had finally dried out.

"You know I was only joking about being drunk," Jo apologized.  "But you leaving Norman?"

"The bastard's been fucking around with another man."

"What?"

It wasn't that Norman was so straight it was impossible for Jo to imagine him with another man, other than Ricki.  It was more the fact that the man had spent years and more money than Jo would probably earn in a lifetime cultivating his Heffneresque public persona.  Norman always swore that Ricki was the only man that he had ever fucked, insisted that he wasn't attracted to men, that Ricki was an anomaly.   

"The women I don't give a shit about.  They're only a front-window dressing, so he can show how macho he is.  The annoying thing is that he introduced me to the bitch and I didn't realize that she was a man."

"You let her slip under your radar?"  That was unheard of!  Ricki could spot a woman with a cock at a hundred paces.

"Jo, you have to see this bitch!  At first when I viewed the footage I thought she was a hermaphrodite, but-"

"Back up, girlfriend.  Footage?"

"I've been taping Norman for years, honey.  I knew one day he would fuck with me and I would have my revenge."  Ricki smiled widely and knowingly.  "Anyway, back to the bitch.  I wouldn't have minded if he had fucked her ass like the rest of the bitches and sent her on her way.  But, my man, her bitch, gets down on his knees and sucked her cock!"

"Ricki, are you sure that you haven't been drinking?"

Norman going down on another man.  Unheard of!

"Jo, believe me, I watched that footage over and over again.  I zoomed in to see if the bitch was packing a dildo, but her cock's real.  And even then I was willing to forgive him, but then..."  Ricki stumbled to a halt, seeming too overcome to continue.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Jo asked.

Ricki had switched her drinking addiction from alcohol to tea, but only quality tea.

"No, I'm good."  Ricki prowled around Jo's living room like a caged tigress.

"What could be worse than Norman sucking on a man's..." Jo didn't finish her sentence.

She couldn't.

Not Norman.

"Yes," Ricki confirmed, her jaw clenched in fury.  "The bitch fucked him!  Jo, you have to see the way she attacked his ass.  He was begging like a little boy and she showed him no mercy.  And it wasn't the first time.  She taunted him, telling him that she should go around telling everyone that she had taken his ‘ass cherry' and has been fucking him regularly ever since.  Jo, he was a pathetic sight, pleading with her not to tell anyone and at the same time rolling his hips like a woman as she fucked him hard.  I have completely gone off him.  I haven't let him fuck me since last week."

Jo sat in stunned silence.  She honestly didn't know what to say.  She had met men who talked a good ‘manly' talk about being straight, but she and sometimes several of her friends knew otherwise.  Yet Norman had managed to surprise her.

"I have it here on this pen drive."  Ricki laughed suddenly and grabbed her haversack.  Jo realized that perhaps her friend hadn't taken it as hard as she had feared.  "Boot up your computer and let's watch the action.  Maybe you can pick up some tips for sucking my cock later."

"Yeah, right!"  Jo laughed scornfully as she depressed the button to wake her computer from sleep mode.  "Norman giving me tips on giving head?  I'd shoot myself first!"

"Girlfriend, the man is good.  I think he must have picked up some tips from the thousands of times I gave him fabulous head."

"Let me make us cups of tea before we start."  Jo's throat was dry from shock, but she couldn't have the double shot of Hennessy she needed while Ricki was around.

***

Five minutes later they sat sipping Earl Grey as they watched a brunette wearing a little black dress and black stilettos, who looked so much like a woman Jo began to doubt Ricki's story, push Norman to his knees and demand that he sucked her off and swallowed everything.

Norman obediently pushed the hem of her dress up to her waist, exposing the tops of her stockings, her suspenders and her tiny black thong.  Jo was just about to comment that she didn't see any sign of a cock when Norman reached into the thong.  The woman opened her legs and let him pull out the limp, but surprisingly long cock she had packed away between her legs.  Definitely not a dildo, Jo acknowledged, unless inflatable ones were now on the market.

Within minutes Norman had it as hard as a rock.  And against her will Jo found herself stroking her own rock.  Norman might be a bastard, but he gave good head.  It seemed, however, that he needed to work on his deep-throat technique.  The woman pulled his head off her and slapped him hard when he wouldn't take her deep enough.

"Open up and take this entire goddamned dick into your mouth!" the woman instructed and Jo soon realized that Norman had only been playacting.  After the slap he managed to open his throat wide enough for the woman to slip her cock right into it.  Then he held himself immobile as she took him by the ears and pumped smoothly in and out of his mouth.

"You're rubbish at sucking dick."  The woman told Norman after several minutes of obvious enjoyment.  "Make it wet and then drop and bend over!  Maybe your tight ass will make me come."

Norman once again was the picture of obedience as he dropped his trousers and his boxers and bent over and held on to a nearby coffee table.

"Still sore from the last time I fucked you?" the woman asked as she positioned herself.

Norman shook his head and braced himself as the woman buried the head with a quick thrust.

"Aw! Aw!" Norman groaned, but instead of trying to escape the pain he was backing himself up and rotating his hips.

"Oh shut up!  I didn't tear your ass up enough the last time.  You should have been sore for at least a week."  She circled her waist, her butt cheeks flexing with the movement, as she drove several, slender inches inside him.  "When I'm done tonight you won't be able to sit down!"

"Have mercy on me, honey."

"Take it like a man, bitch!  You know you like the pain!"

Jo jumped.  Hearing the woman call Norman a ‘bitch' was even more shocking than everything she had witnessed so far.  It was the name he always called Ricki and in such a derogatory way it made Jo's blood boil.  She looked across at Ricki and immediately reached over and paused the recording.  While she had been getting into the action and had a boulder to testify her enjoyment, Ricki had sat there silently crying.

"Jo, I honestly don't give a fuck about that other bitch!  I don't!  But in ten years he has never kissed me, never sucked my fucking cock, never let me put as much as a finger in his ass!  And now this bitch has him totally sprung!"

"He didn't kiss her though," Jo consoled.

The statement was so ridiculously banal that Ricki stared at her for several moments in surprise, and then started laughing.  Jo joined her and they laughed so hard they both fell onto the carpet and rolled around with laughter.   

***

They had met in The Pink Panther, a gay bar, during the college half-term holiday.  Joseph had just turned eighteen and Richard had been four months older.  The bar owner had turned a blind eye when Joseph had arrived, but when Richard had walked in twenty minutes later he had realized that he had to take some crowd control measures.  The regulars had already been salivating over one gorgeous barely-legal young man, when a second had walked in the level of testosterone had risen significantly.  There had been a distinct sound of fabric stretching to accommodate sudden, rampant erections.  The owner, Emmanuel Foxton, or ‘Big Willy' to those who knew him intimately, had immediately dispatched his head bouncer to show the two young men the door.  The bouncer had spoken to them in turn and then taken them each by an upper arm and marched them out, a big hulking brute of a man between their boyish slenderness.  The regulars had protested vehemently.  Some of the bolder ones had tried to rush to the rescue, but anticipating the move another two huge bouncers had deflected their advance.

But rather than throw the young men out into the cold dark night, the bouncer had simply taken them out the door, around the building and up through a secret door to Emmanuel's private viewing parlour.  Richard had explained to Joseph that he had been to the club before and knew Emmanuel.  They had feasted on juicy steak with crisp baked potatoes and perfectly steamed vegetables as they'd watched the clubbers get down and dirty.  Emmanuel had excused himself as soon as decently possible and had appeared carrying two bottles of vintage wine.

Emmanuel, who had been the head bouncer for a West End club before opening his own, had worked out regularly and at six foot five inches was a mountain of a man.  Everything on him was big, including his size thirteen feet and eleven-inch cock.

The wine had been smooth but lethal and it wasn't long before Joseph and Richard were engaged in some boy-on-boy action with Big Willy urging them on as he stroked his oversized cock as he stood watching at the side of the bed.

Joseph remembered the night mostly in vague detail, except for the toe-curling twenty minutes that Emmanuel had spent cramming his near-virgin asshole with long, thick, hard cock.

Emmanuel had eventually joined Jo and Ricki on the large custom-made bed and they had immediately wrestled for possession of Emmanuel's jumbo cock.  Joseph had lost the battle, his energy sapped by the wine.  He had watched jealously for a moment as Richard had sucked on it like a lollipop until Emmanuel had pulled Jo closer and stuck two fat, long fingers inside him and an even fatter tongue into his mouth.  Joseph had come within minutes and was on the verge of coming again when Emmanuel had withdrawn his fingers and urged Joseph to kneel facedown on the bed.  The next minute he felt Richard behind him filling the hole Emmanuel's fingers had vacated.  And as soon as Richard had worked himself into Joseph, Emmanuel had pushed Richard forward and spent several minutes trying to complete a daisy chain.  Squashed under Richard as he squirmed and groaned and wriggled his hips to accommodate Emmanuel, Joseph had felt even more jealous. He had wished fervently that he was the one in the middle under the muscular, square-jawed owner of the bar and not Richard.

But Emmanuel had only been saving Joseph for later, he explained once he'd recovered from a frenzied orgasm which Richard had very vocally enjoyed.

Joseph had needed careful preparation, but soon he was lying on his side on the bed, one leg raised high and held in place by Emmanuel as he used Richard's cum, an abundance of lubricant and great patience to ease his truncheon slowly inside Joseph.  Richard had also aided in the effort by kissing Joseph, sucking on his sensitive nipples and fondling his erection and balls.  It had seemed an impossible task, but Joseph had been eager and had sobered up enough to enjoy Emmanuel's slow, smooth, deliberate thrusts and Richard's nimble caresses.

Big Willy had promptly renamed Joseph, Josephine-Jo for short just as two months before he had renamed Richard, Ricki.  That night had been the start of a triangular relationship that lasted almost two years.  Then Richard had fallen in love with Norman, an older, wealthy married man who had come into Harrods, where Richard had worked at the time, to buy a new winter wardrobe.  Richard had suggested several outfits that had made the best Norman's oddly-shaped, swat body and the man had been so pleased he had tipped Richard ridiculously well.  He had returned the next week on the pretence of needing a dozen ties.  That night he had fucked Richard with a Viagra-aided vigour that belied his years and persuaded the younger man to quit his job and move in to his obscenely large penthouse.

Less than ten days later Emmanuel had met Nathan, who at sixteen looked twelve, when he had delivered a box of organic procedure to the club on his bicycle when his employer's van had broken down.  Emmanuel had called the supplier, furious that the man had sent the boy on the bicycle without proper protective garments or a helmet.  He had accused the man of exploitation, employing a boy that young.  He had been shocked to be told Nathan's true age.  He had immediately invited the young man into the kitchen and personally rustled up a mouth-watering ham and cheese omelette for him.  When he learned that Nathan had run away from Ireland because his father had physically and sexually abused him, had slept rough for months until he was able to find a few odd jobs and rent a tiny room in a dingy flat, Emmanuel, a big softie at heart, had offered the young man a room rent free.  In less than a month Nathan had vacated the room in preference for Willy's.

Joseph hadn't been interested in Nathan himself, but had assumed that the threesome games would continue.  It soon became apparent that Emmanuel was totally besotted by his new boy-toy.  He admitted to Jo that he had finally found what he'd been looking for all his adult life-someone who looked young enough to be his son, someone he could pamper like a son and yet fuck legally.

A psychologist might have analysed this behaviour as bordering on the paedophilic or the incestuous.  Joseph had simply moved on, embarking on several short-lived affairs with club regulars who had been impatiently waiting for Willy to tire of yet another young thing.  He still went to the bar occasionally, for a drink or to pull whenever he was in the mood.  Emmanuel and Nathan, Natalie, had pledged their commitment to each other in a lavish civil ceremony a year ago.  Nathan, at twenty-six, was still a slender five-foot-five and still had to show ID to buy cigarettes or alcohol.  He had given up driving Emmanuel's Land Rover after being constantly stopped by the police.  Jo sometimes wondered if Nathan had an undetected medical problem, the man had barely aged in the ten years Jo had known him.

***

"Norman never deserved you." Jo lowered her head and kissed Ricki softly.

"I know."  Ricki reached up and pulled Jo's head closer again.  "Let's forget the bastard."

 Jo reached between them and rubbed their cocks together as she kissed Ricki deeply, plunging her tongue into her mouth.  When she let Ricki come up for air, Ricki immediately bent her head and sucked on Jo's right nipple.  Jo grasped Ricki's head and pressed her mouth harder against her.

Five years ago when Ricki had had her breast operation, Jo had been tempted to get implants too.  The surgeon had wisely not gone too big and the breasts looked totally natural.  But during Jo's consultation the man had mentioned that there could be a loss of nipple sensitivity.  Jo had immediately thanked the man for his time and walked out.  Her nipples were probably the most sensitive part of her body.  Because they were small most men didn't give them the attention they deserved.  The ones who did saw a completely different woman to the ones who didn't.  Expressed politely, sucking on Jo's nipples made her very horny, or put it a little more bluntly, made her a raging nymphomaniac.

Without breaking the seal of Ricki's lips on her nipple Jo manoeuvred herself until she was leaning over the other woman, her knees planted on the bed behind Ricki's head.  Carefully she lowered her head and tongued Ricki's nipple as she reached over to stroke her cock.  Ricki immediately switched to Jo's left nipple and reached backwards to stroke her too.

When Ricki pulled Jo closer to wrap her lips around Jo's erection, Jo moved further forwards and took Ricki between her lips.  Jo sighed as Ricki immediately placed her hands on Jo's hips to support her and relaxed completely as Jo started to thrust.  Jo was always in awe of Ricki's ability to deep throat a cock from any angle.  It was a skill Ricki had had to learn quickly after meeting Norman who liked nothing better than to fuck someone's mouth, hard.  Jo could deep-throat but she had to control the movement.  She could never relax totally and let some guy ram his cock down her throat.  But few of her partners had ever had complaints.  Left to her own devices, Jo soon had the biggest of cocks stuck down her throat and the owner's toes curling.

When Ricki felt Jo's movements start to become jerky she pressed Jo's hips upwards and let the head of her cock slip out of her mouth.  Jo groaned, but was grateful that Ricki had stopped her coming too quickly.  Over the years they had learned to prolong the moments to orgasm.  In an entire night they sometimes came only once or twice, and when they finally did they were so explosive it was surprising that the cum didn't rip the heads off their cocks.

Jo moistened her fingers in her mouth, slipped her hand under Ricki and slid one finger and then two inside her as she concentrated more fully on giving her head.  When Ricki started to buck, Jo took her deeper into her mouth and buried a third finger inside her.  Ricki tried to push her off, but Jo persisted.  Ricki hadn't been fucked in over a week.  Jo decided that she needed to come.  She wanted her totally relaxed later when they moved into the more serious phase of love making.

"Fuck me, Jo.  Yes, fuck me."  Ricki was now lost in pleasure.  She had Jo's cock grasped between her hands and was lightly, almost absentmindedly tonguing the head.  "Gimme Willy, Jo.  I need Willy."

Jo smiled and quickly pulled her cock away from Ricki.  Scrambling quickly along the bed she pushed Ricki's legs up and rimmed her, sticking her tongue into her friend's relaxed, receptive anus.

"Hurry, Jo.  Hurry!"

"Be patient!"  Jo laughed as she moved up the bed and kissed Ricki as she positioned herself and slid effortlessly inside her.

It wasn't exactly what Ricki had wanted.  The ‘Willy' she had been begging for was an outsized dildo Jo had found in a sex shop that had reminded her so much of Emmanuel, Big Willy, that she had bought two-one for each of them; a ‘flesh-toned' one for Ricki because she liked white men, and a dark chocolate one for herself as she was rather partial to a black cock on occasion.  She and Ricki were both convinced that the dildos were modelled on Emmanuel's cock, though the man himself had laughed and denied any knowledge of it when they had asked him.  Jo would not be at all surprised if the designer had been one of Emmanuel's previous lovers.

Though Ricki had taken Jo's cock quite easily she wasn't ready for Big Willy.  It wasn't the dildo's length that was the trouble, or its wicked right hook-neither of these gave as much trouble as the bulbous head.  But by the end of the night they would both have Big Willies inside them.  It was the culmination of their nights of pleasure, the goal they aimed for and a poignant reminder of the man with whom they had shared many a good time.  Emmanuel was now beyond either of their reaches.  He had settled down quite contentedly with his man-boy Natalie and was as faithful as the day was long.

Jo and Ricki had remained firm friends over the years.  They visited each other every six to eight weeks and always made love even though Ricki had remained faithful to Norman otherwise, and Jo was often in a committed relationship with someone else.  They'd had serious power struggles at first with Ricki trying to be the ‘man', although as they had matured Jo had gained a three inch advantage over the five-foot-seven Ricki.  Jo's shoulders were also wider than Ricki's and she had the bigger cock. But Ricki insisted that she was older and therefore dominant.  Jo let her have her way because she knew that Norman was one of those men who insisted that he wasn't gay; he was simply fucking another man, but would never let another man fuck him!  Norman kept Ricki in a style envied by all their friends, but even now the man still saw their relationship as a sexual conquest he had to win.  He had secretly boasted that it took a real ‘man' to fuck another man and said that he would never do anything as ‘gay' as give another man a blowjob or let him breach his ass.

Norman was so macho he dismissed Jo as a possible threat.  He couldn't imagine what ‘two women with cocks', as he called Jo and Ricki, would do with each other in bed.  Jo detested the man, thought he was an absolute bastard and honestly couldn't see what Ricki saw in him, except for the money.  Norman had inherited his father's two luxury London hotels, but his mother's short stature.  After nine years of a childless marriage, he had discovered that his sperm count was so low there was no possibility of him passing on the business to a child of his.  He had immediately kicked his wife out of their six-bedroom house in Chiswick, explaining to their shocked friends that she was a ‘barren cow' and a ‘slag'.  Three months later she had moved in with his best friend and they'd had a bouncing baby boy within eighteen months.  Furious, Norman would have had them both eliminated, if there had been the possibility of anyone else being the prime suspect.  But he had built a rather unsavoury reputation of being a bully-his would have been the first door the police knocked on.  By pumping iron daily he had amassed a breadth equal to his height and though most people found his square, muscle-bound body ridiculous, very few dared to laugh at him, except behind his back.

Ricki was Norman's secret lover.  In public he paraded a bevy of beauties on his arm that could rival Hugh Hefner.  He slept with women, though he bragged of having a marked preference for anal sex.  He liked to boast that he had taken several ‘ass cherries'.  He was a vulgar, unpleasant man whom even his close friends only tolerated because he had tons of money and could be ridiculously generous when the mood struck him.

***

The next morning as a bleary-eyed Jo grilled lean, rindless bacon and premium sausages, and scrambled organic eggs with a fat nub of butter, Ricki finally revealed everything.

"I called a reporter from Got Ya! and told him I had something on Norman that he would be very interested in seeing.  He met me the same afternoon and as soon as I gave him a sneak preview he offered me a hundred thousand.  It was more than I had expected, but you know me, girlfriend.  I told him I was thinking more in the region of half a million. He said that his boss would never agree to that kind of money.  And I said, ‘no problem, I would take it to Snoop or Busted.'  He excused himself to make a call to his boss and came back and told me they were offering me half a million, take it or leave it."

"Quarter of a million!"  Jo gasped, spilling several drops of the freshly-squeezed orange juice she was transferring from the juicer into a tall jug.

Got Ya! had exposed dozens of celebrities, footballers and politicians.  It was a fairly new magazine but it already had one of the largest circulations in the world.  It thrived in an age of readers with insatiable appetites for gossip.

"It's in my bank account already," Ricki informed her coolly...and then screamed, "A quarter of a fucking million, Jo!"

Ricki hopped off the kitchen worktop where she had perched, doing absolutely nothing while her friend had prepared the breakfast, and they hugged each other, jumping up and down like two giddy schoolgirls.

"They're going to break the story in a special edition on Wednesday, so I have to leave the country by tomorrow.  I told them that I'm going to the Philippines.  Girl, you know I don't trust anyone but you!  I'm getting the hell out of the country today just in case something goes wrong and Norman comes looking for my ass!"

"But why Barbados?" Jo asked, puzzled.

They had planned to chat after their marathon fucking session, but Ricki and then an-equally exhausted Jo had dropped off to sleep.  If Jo hadn't set her alarm to wake them at half six this morning so that Ricki could catch her morning flight, they would have slept well into the afternoon.

Ricki didn't answer right away.  She paused for effect, a broad smile on her face and then uttered two words, "Ian McIntosh."

Jo screamed in excitement.  "Ian!"

"Ian," Ricki confirmed.  "I was going through my address book about three weeks ago, deleting old contacts and I came across his hotmail address.  I don't know why I've kept it all these years.  I was going to delete it, but I decided to say a quick hello and see if he would respond.  Girl, he was logged on too and he sent me an instant reply!  We immediately hooked up by webcam and I almost licked the damn screen!  He was sitting in front of the computer, his chest bare, looking tanned and more gorgeous than when he was at college!  I asked him if he'd just come back from somewhere hot.  He looked odd for a moment and said that he thought that someone would have told me that he now lived in Barbados.  Jo, I nearly cried.  There I was thinking that he was somewhere in London and instead he was hundred of miles away."

***

Ricki had told Jo so much about Ian when they had first met Jo felt as if she knew Ian personally too.

At college Ian, blond and blue-eyed, had been a star athlete who all the girls had wanted to date.  He and Richard had moved in different circles, but late one night after a classmate's party they had found themselves travelling on a night bus together.  They had sat on the back seat and when Ian had discretely slipped his hand around Richard, up under his jacket and into his jeans, Richard had been immobile with shock.  He was erect even before Ian had wrapped his hand around his cock.  When Ian had asked quite casually as he'd stroked him to full orgasm if he wanted to come to his house to clean up Richard had nodded, still in a daze.  Ian's parents had been away on a golfing weekend and as soon as he had closed the door behind them, Ian had begun the cleanup with his tongue, unbuttoning Richard's fly and tonguing every last drop of cum off him.  When Ian had dropped his jeans his short, thick penis had been literally bursting at its seams.  Richard had made to go down on his knees, but Ian had thanked him for the offer and said that he had other plans for him.  Richard had called his parents to tell them that he was sleeping over at a friend's and had not left until late the following evening, his buns well and truly buttered.

The next day at college Ian had passed Richard with a redhead on his arm and had acted like Richard didn't exist.  But that night he had called Richard and told him how much he'd missed him and begged him to meet him in the cinema the next day.  The cinema had been almost deserted and Ian had shamelessly gone down on Richard and made him come twice before he had opened his fly and let Richard do the same for him.  He had then walked out minutes before the end of the movie and then ignored Richard the next day at college.

Richard had in turn ignored his phone calls for the next week, but when Ian had sent a text message one Saturday morning saying that his parents had just left for a weekend of golf, Richard had found himself outside Ian's front door without giving the matter any thought.  They'd had a weekend of frenzied sex after Ian had begged for Richard's understanding.  He was the biggest track and field star at the college, he couldn't come out as gay or be seen with anyone who was not a jock.  Richard hadn't been out himself then, but he had been strangely annoyed with Ian for being ashamed of who he was.  They had sneaked around for almost a year.  Then Richard had come ‘out' in support of a fellow student who had been harassed by bullies at the college and Ian had been furious.  Richard had ignored his calls for the next few weeks and then they had stopped abruptly.  For the remainder of the college year Ian had sported several different girls on his arm.  When he'd thought that enough time had passed for Richard to cool down, he had called him, only to be told that Richard had found someone with a  much bigger willy-Emmanuel.

Less than a year later Ian moved in with a female classmate of theirs and they lived together for eight years, until his grandfather had died a year ago and left him several acres of lush farmland in Barbados when.  Ian had planned to sell the land at the best price he could get and return to the UK, but the beauty of the place had captured him.  Within three months of living on the relaxed island he had come out to his parents.  His father still hadn't forgiven him, but his mother called him often, although she steered clear of the subject of his sexuality.  He had spent the year tirelessly building a successful organic farm and his efforts were suddenly and very rapidly paying off.  More and more restaurants were making him their sole supplier of meat and vegetables and in the last months he had finally started to make a profit.

No longer having to spend entire days farming or drumming up business, Ian had become increasingly restless.  Ricki's email had come at the perfect time-just before he had begun his hunt for some local male ass to satisfy his longer than ten-year craving.

***

Jo was pleased for Ricki.  If anyone deserved to be happy, Ricki did after her relationship with Norman.  The years had taken their toll on her friend but Jo had no doubt that Ricki would be her old, defiant self again within days of basking in the sunshine and being fucked by a young, vigorous now-proudly gay man.

"I'll call to let you know that I've arrived safely," Ricki promised as Jo hugged her and kissed her fiercely one last time and then let her go.

"Take care of Willy."

"I will." Ricki laughed.  "If they don't confiscate him when I get to Barbados!"

She turned and hurried to the mini cab, turning to wave when she reached the gate and then walking briskly to the cab.  She kept her head resolutely forward as the cab sped off.

But Jo knew that she was crying too.  She sent up a prayer for Ricki's safety.  Her friend was taking a monumental risk, but if it worked out she would be set for life.  And perhaps one day, when Ricki had settled on her farm with her hunky partner, Jo would pay her a visit to see if Willy had acclimatized to the warmer weather and developed a tan, or if Ricki had neglected him, leaving him pale and unused in a drawer.

Ian was gorgeous with his golden tan, sun-bleached hair and muscular body.  If Jo asked nicely she was sure that Ricki would share him.  And for Ian, there would be the pleasure of witnessing every man's fantasy: two women making love to each other-even it they were ‘two women with cocks' as the bastard Norman always put it.

Closing the door, Jo immediately raced forward and grabbed her mobile phone as it started vibrating on the kitchen counter where she had left it.

A message from Ricki.

She smiled knowing that it was going to be something naughty.  Something probably about having a sore ass and having a long plane trip to endure.

But it was a short, rather sweet message: I've left you a little something under the bed.  Deep tongue kisses, Ricki.

Jo laughed and ran to the bedroom.  She reached under the bed and pulled out an elaborately-wrapped shoe box.

My sandals, she guessed, smiling.  The last time they had gone to Selfridges Ricki had persuaded her that she really didn't need the to-die-for £545 Alexander McQueen Dredge Skull Sandals.  Especially since she already had two pairs by the same designer.

Eagerly she ripped off the gold foil wrapping, impatient to smell the new soft leather of the shoes and slip them onto her recently-pedicured feet.

It was only as she opened the box that her subconscious alerted her to the fact that the weight was all wrong, but shock replaced the disappointment even before it surfaced.  Something about the rectangular shape of the contents started Jo's heart beating fast.

The little gold embossed card on top of the tissue paper read: Buy your own damn shoes, I'm not your shopper!

And when Jo pulled back the tissue paper she found packets and packets of £50 notes.  With trembling hands and tears streaming down her face she counted them.  Twenty in total: fifty thousand pounds.

The card beneath them said simply: I couldn't forget my girlfriend now, could I?

© Lexy Harper 2010