[An Account from the PRISM Chronicles]
And the Answer Is…
Parker Scott felt trapped between the brilliance of passion rewarded and complete surprise. “Mark, would you say that again?”
“Parker Scott,” he whispered, “will you marry me?”
“Yes, Mark, oh, yes!”
Each grasped the other and kissed deeply, he crushing her great breasts against his chest, and she feeling overcome with an indescribable happiness that obliterated all the other sadness of her years. Parker stared at the canary diamond that glared hotly from its setting on her left hand, then looked into Mark’s eyes.
“Make love to me, Lover. Fill me, own me, just do me so I will never forget it!”
He did just that, first with tenderness, then with near-savagery, finally ending their marathon session with exquisite caresses inside and out. She smiled with satisfaction, knowing that she had been completely ravished.
“Marcus, I am so in love with you, and I believed I could never love another man…until I met you. Thank you for not letting my love with Lauren interfere with us. She is my lover, you will be my husband. And that will make her happier than you have any idea!”
“Parker, thank you for not allowing my commitment to her to interfere, either. She and I are lovers; you, precious woman, will be my wife.
Ashwynde Richardson lay comfortably on her office couch following work on Wednesday, relishing the soft touches of her manager, Lauren Campbell. The five-and-a-half foot beauty with the light, smooth flesh deliciously specked with tiny cinnamon freckles had given herself over to Lauren’s gentle caresses. As her friend and so-far-secret lover in PRISM Designs whispered compliments on her silky thighs and her completely swollen stem, she allowed her mind to drift back over how she had arrived here.
Ashe, as she was known about the company, never knew her father. He had left her mother, Sybil Richardson, and her to run the mid-size ranch in south Texas; Sybil never wanted to discuss him or how she and her child had come into inheriting the ranch. When she was born her mother had decided never to cut her stunning red hair. As years passed, Sybil’s son looked more like a lovely girl than a boy.
Added to this was his development of gynecomastia, a glandular enlargement of a male’s breasts. Sybil was surprised when her son told her one day that he enjoyed what was happening to him. He did not want her to get any treatment for this; rather, he had decided that he wanted to be a woman like she was. She conferred with their pediatrician to see if there were any repercussions of such a decision. Rachel had smiled and said, “No, Sybil. I’ve known a very few boys who wanted to keep their developed breasts. It never hurt them. Some with whom I’ve kept up have greatly enjoyed them.”
Sybil, after considering her son’s request at length, decided to press ahead with staged breast augmentation and the transgender change. As time passed, not only did she never regret her decision, she was thankful for it. She arranged for a rename of her son to Ashwynde, an unusual name that conveyed both a mysterious association with something medieval and one that seemed so appropriate for her incredibly heavy growth of gorgeous red hair. It lengthened steadily to a dense, full cascade falling evenly to her waist. Green eyes sparkled with a natural humor, and she had a body much more mature than any nineteen-year-old had a right to possess. Her breasts seemed even larger because of her very prominent nipples that had originated from the gynecomastia years before..
For years Sybil enjoyed sensuous clothing, preferring good quality and very short outfits. One day Ashe watched her sit on a park bench as they halted a stroll. Her mother’s skirt hiked up to reveal her pussy, surrounded by a sculptured oval of fur, and pierced with several rings. She was wearing a three-inch chain attached to one of these ring and tipped with a glistening ruby. When she and Ashe had been walking, her daughter could see the chain swinging against her legs below her very short skirt. That was the last time Sybil had been able to convince the girl to wear panties.
By her late teens Ashwynde had decided to go to the University of Missouri to major in archaeology, specializing in new world historical archaeology. Sybil and her daughter had for some time been drifting toward a physical relationship. Ashe had always enjoyed having her mother slide her hand into her blouse and caress her oversized nipples, and this intensified.
Sybil helped her acquire sensuous clothing that would emphasize her legs and breasts. Ashe enjoyed short, pleated skirts because they allowed her penis to harden without revealing that she was as hot as a firecracker. She enjoyed the risk that something might happen to accidentally flip up her skirt, and the sensation of being bare. The only time she wore panties was when she had on a fitted dress. Those times were also memorable, because even a heavy-duty thong did not fully conceal the presence of the enviable, beautiful thing between her thighs.
Her university years were marked by hard work, some humorous dates when her companion discovered that she possessed marvelous added attractions, a couple of interesting times that turned ugly when her guys discovered that the gorgeous redhead had more gifts than they anticipated, several sweet events with other girls and two young men, and a lot of physical training activity. She worked out regularly and developed a running schedule. Frequent visits by Sybil ensured the expansion of their love into a sexual commitment so arousing that neither believed they could experience such pleasure.
When graduation rolled around, Ashwynde was elected cum laude from the school of archaeology and had, as a side interest, acquired specialist degrees in weapons and maintenance and in photography from a well-regarded trade school. The real shocker was when, from out of nowhere, she received first a phone call from someone named Parker Scott representing a corporation known as PRISM Designs, a call requesting a meeting with an interest in hiring Ashwynde.
Parker, a very business-like and knowledgeable representative, flew up to talk with her. Scott was impressed with her thesis on new world archaeology with a specialty in treasure recovery. This conversation led to a joint visit back to the Palm Beach headquarters and several lengthy meetings with the director, Lauren Campbell.
Ashwynde had been concerned that she might not find a job. Instead, she had been sought out and then Campbell hired her following the marathon interviews with herself and Parker. They wanted her to assist the company with extending its investigations into the recovery of lost valuables, public and private.
‘Now here I am,’ she thought, ‘working for a company that does everything from making the most erotic clothes I’ve ever seen to hunting for treasure to this beautiful woman touching me, preparing to eat me alive, being in love with the woman who hired me a year ago, and then there is that gorgeous wild Amazon, Parker. There is no way I can resist her! This is unbelievable! If I have to die young, this is how I want it to be.’
Lauren whispered, “It’s time, sweetheart. Take me, please!”
The lovely, light-skinned girl slowly removed her blouse and short skirt as Lauren did the same. Then the older woman lay down on the comfortable couch, large window open, in full view of anyone watching from an office in a nearby building, and held out her arms for her young lover. Ashwynde, remembering the acts that her mother had treasured, fondled Lauren’s breasts, complimenting her on their size and heaviness. She kissed the fat nipples, thumbing each in order to bring it to complete arousal.
After a short foreplay, Ashe, now stiff as a rod, slid her thick penis through Lauren’s dense black bush and into her body. The older woman gasped with pleasure, then sighed, “Ohh, you lovely creature…I am so hot, and you fill me completely. I can feel your crown at the bottom of my throat, Princess. Now ride me, please.”
The girl began a slow entry and withdrawal as Lauren moaned, “You are taking all of me. You are huge inside of me! You know that you have to fill me with your juices, don’t you? Ashe, Darling, whenever you and Mark do me, you both will be bare. I want to feel every vein and swelling on your gorgeous shaft, and I want you to lose everything you have in me!”
“Lauren, what if I make you pregnant?”
“I take precautions, but nothing is foolproof, lover. I told Mark and I’m telling you, too, if I get pregnant by you, I will be happier than you can imagine. I want to get as big as a house, I want to wear clothing that shows off my huge belly, I want to show it off on the beach. I desperately want your and his children. Does that answer your question, sweet young beauty?”
Ashwynde kissed her and answered, “Yes. I’ll always give you a joyful, grateful memory of each time we make love. And if I make you pregnant, I’ll adore our child, as I know Mark and Parker will”
With that, she began stroking Lauren slowly, deeply and steadily. Ashe was already teetering on the edge of her orgasm when Lauren’s eyes widened, she gasped and cried out, “Oh! OH! Here I go losing it all…Ashewynde, please tear me apart, please, please just use me up! Ah, yesss…,” and she trailed off as a shattering climax rolled over her.
Lauren clutched at the girl above her, hauling her down so that their breasts swelled against each other. Still, Ashwynde kept her penetrations steady and deep, and then she lost herself as well. She tore loose from Lauren’s embrace and let her head fall back as she plunged into Lauren, then withdrew, jetting her cum into the woman now completely undone beneath her. The contractions were as sweet as rich cream, bathing her lips and tongue…as wrenching as a fall…as demanding as a parent insisting that a child follow instructions…as sensuous as the time she spurted cum on a nude beach while others watched.
“Lauren, I feel your thick pussy fur on my tummy. It is so long and beautiful. It is like a delicious cushion to me. It’s completely wet with our cream…you are so wet that I could slide right out of you if I am not careful. Your legs are gorgeous with those muscles. I am so hot at the sight of your fur growing up your tummy. When I saw you yesterday with those tight white slacks and that half-blouse and your grass was visible at least two inches above your waistband, I almost lost myself with excitement.”
“You…cannot…possibly…possibly…, oh, HELP me!” Lauren cried as another orgasm flashed through her body, electrifying her sticky flesh and soul with its passage.
“Ashe,” she gritted through clenched teeth as delicious aftershocks rolled through her, “I am so thankful that…that…oh, lord, you keep doing that to me! Here comes another. I feel as if I am sparking electricity when you stuff that gorgeous cock into me. How can you do this to me? You cannot possibly know me this well so that you can meet every need I have. But you are! And I am so in love with you. Ooooo….”
The woman trailed off into silence as the redhead pressed to her depths once more, then began a slow withdrawal. She smiled broadly as she saw that the couch beneath them was a sticky mess. She took some of the cream on her finger and covered each of Lauren’s nipples with it, then kissed each, sucking on them until Lauren said, “Ohh, nooo. Oh, yes! Here comes another one and you aren’t even inside of me!”
Ashwynde’s lover and supervisor began to weep quietly with her joy, first grasping her breasts, then pushing her hand into her pussy, then sucking the cream from her fingers as she stared at the girl above her.
Finally, the two cleaned up, enjoying the arousal that comes from being in public view through the large windows. Lauren had a good idea that people were watching them because she had enjoyed private times before, standing before the glass and caressing her breasts or removing her skirt and brushing the long fur of her pussy. She seen several men and women watching from other offices. The thought was sweetly arousing.
They left for the day, exhausted, clinging to each other, and displaying far too much skin in their pantiless short skirts and open blouses.
Sometime in 1700 in Cork County, Ireland, William Cormac had an affair with a servant named Mary Brennan. They named the child Anne. Her bright red hair attested to her fiery temper that flared brightly the older she grew. Cormac’s wife, furious at his affair, scared him into traveling to South Carolina with his daughter. Anne proceeded to make him sorry he had ever heard of her. One unsubstantiated tale about her violent nature credited her with setting fire to her father’s small plantation out of spite for his trying to restrict her activities.
At thirteen she stabbed a servant girl, then married a small-time pirate named James Bonney. Anne took his name and the two moved to New Providence Island in the Bahamas, a well-known haven for pirates. Not long after, Anne met a real-time pirate, “Calico” Jack Rackham, owner of a twin sail sloop he called the Revenge, hardly an appropriate name for a Bermuda-rigged sloop…but Jack figured he had to start somewhere. Anne ran off with him, leaving James who had refused Rackham’s offer to buy her.
Following a series of run-ins with the law, such as it was, Anne and Rackham were caught and sentenced to prison. Rackham was hanged, Anne pleaded pregnancy which in those days according to English sea law allowed a woman to deliver her child before her sentence was carried out. She had the child, of whom there is no record, and Anne, who had become a full-fledged and brutal pirate with her own ship, disappeared into the mists of history.
Ashwynde Richardson, however, did not believe that was the full story. She had been busy with the assets of PRISM behind her, researching Anne’s activities with the aid of several private libraries containing far more personal data than any available public records. During Lauren’s years of management she had developed a friendship with Kittrick L’Deuve, an extremely peculiar but well-read collector of books, records, charts and maps about worldwide seafaring activities.
L’Deuve possessed family records that the big libraries didn’t know existed, including items that even the Library of Congress did not possess. Lauren introduced her new charge to him, and he and she began a friendship of mutual respect that served Ashe well for years thereafter.
He knew a lot more about Anne Bonney. One intriguing item for Ashe was that she had somehow come into ownership of a fully rigged brig that she named The Curse. Anne had equipped the ship with guns purchased in Port Royal, then she had begun several years of piracy, raiding any and everything she could find. Anne Bonney was a savage fighter, and her reputation spread far across the Caribbean Sea.
L’Deuve’s ancient records indicated that she hijacked, in current value, millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry, gold and silver bullion and bars, and gems, all of it intended for the king of Spain. Eventually Ann wisely concluded that in a profession where one had no friends, it behooved her to stash away parts of that hoard in several locations.
Interesting to Ashwynde was evidence that Anne buried some of her treasure in South Florida; deeper research convinced her that Anne had visited the Everglades, an area where no one believed a pirate would ever enter. The inlets and waterways were much too shallow for the draft of a ship the size of The Curse, and that part of the ‘glades was far out of the way of typical Caribbean raiders and privateers…unless one of them had a plan for something else. And Anne Bonney had such a plan.
Lauren was pleased that her new employee, now deep in serious research and discovery for PRISM, had fit right in with the rest of her team. Parker, that young and delightful patron of utter sensuality, was the instigator for all of Ashe’s escape from her inhibitions. Lauren left it up to her associate and lover to ensure Ashwynde had the wardrobe she desired; her only request, unnecessary as it was, was that her selections were of their best designs and that, while stylish, they be completely risqué.
As with so much else, once Lauren told Parker this, there was no escape for the beautiful redhead. Before long, the creamy-skinned young woman was turning heads and creating erotic stirs in and out of the office.
Early one morning in summer, Ashe rang Lauren for an appointment to discuss her proposal for a scouting expedition into the very southernmost part of the Everglades from the Gulf of Mexico side. She entered Lauren’s office confidently now; the older woman had that effect upon her employees. That morning she wore a Kelly green sleeveless jumper and tan stilettos that contrasted perfectly with her red mane. Her shoulders were soft, deliciously smooth, and Lauren had an almost irrepressible urge to walk over, raise her lovely arms, and lick that entire part of her as if she were a giant ice cream cone.
She did manage to subdue this one but swore to herself that she would do it later. Ashwynde’s top had no fasteners and was open to her waist where the dress became fitted, then flared into a skirt with small pleats. Lauren stared without embarrassment at her smooth breasts, admiring the way her nipples almost-but-not-quite revealed themselves.
Her very short pleated skirt concealed what Lauren hoped to see and soon did. When Ashe sat down beside Lauren’s desk, she casually parted her thighs as she removed papers from her briefcase to show them to Lauren. This completely bared her enlarged penis and ball sac, and revealed that that she was entirely without pubic fur. She then crossed her legs, but not before her shaft and balls were squeezed above her legs and remained fully in Lauren’s view.
Lauren looked away, briefly, as if she were embarrassed, then she said, “Ashe, Darling, you can remain like that all year if you want to.” The young woman looked down and then started to move her long legs. Lauren quickly demurred, saying with a smile, “Don’t you dare move a muscle. I promise you my full, undivided attention, and that’ll be difficult at times, IF you will let me take you to dinner and then back home to spend the night. Agreed?”
“How can I refuse such a commitment and then such a delightful promise of a lovely night?”
“All right, here’s what I have. I believe the evidence bears out my belief that Anne Bonney took her brig, The Curse, through the keys and around the bottom of Florida but south of Florida Bay because it was so shallow to what presently is known as Whitewater Bay, then anchored some distance offshore. She and her crew used the ship’s boats to get into the bay through one of several channels; these are all shallow, and the bay or lake itself is at its deepest only a bit over four feet. The ones who actually hid her fortune…she never intended that they leave. She murdered every one.
“Anne knew several important things about the bay because she had quietly done her own checking during her planning. That’s one reason she was so successful…her competitors, the governors of the islands and other pirates, kept underestimating her. There was a deeper element to this vicious woman. One thing about the lake was its shallow depth over the entire expanse of the water. That meant that concealment might well be fairly easy if done in a cagey fashion.
“Another characteristic was that the mangrove clusters throughout the entire area would be both a boon to and enemy of her efforts depending on how she used them.” Ashwynde needed an old print of the bay provided to her by her friend L’Deuve and she laid aside her papers as she leaned to her right to retrieve it from her briefcase. In the process she crossed her left leg over her right to balance herself, completely raising her short skirt and exposing to Lauren the entirety of her firm penis beneath her thighs.
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