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Disclaimer: This is an erotic story. You must be 18 to read this story, be able to read erotica in your community and not be offended by the contents of it. If you are not 18, live in an overly repressed community, or are easily offended, move on. This is not for you.

This story is fiction and as such is protected under the first amendment. The people referred to in this story do not behave this way in real life, this is a fantasy and any resemblance to real people or situations is merely a coincidence. Any copyrighted names, works, etc. remain property of their respective owner(s).

This story may not be redistributed.

Comments, suggestions, even criticism is welcome. You can contact me through the CONTACT tab on my profile.

Author's Note: This is another old story, written in 2004. Back when it was still possible to like Charlie Sheen. But Charlie is not the focus of the story, Denise Richards is. So, read on if you like.

A very sincere thanks to all the authors who spend so much of their time and effort to bring these stories to us all. Your efforts are much appreciated.

And now the story -

* * * * * * * * *

"I want you to fuck me."

I put down the pages I had been reading and looked up at the woman approaching me with a determined glint in her beautiful blue eyes, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"You heard me."

Well yes I had. I had heard her. Just like I had heard her say the same thing almost every single day for years now. In my fantasies that is. But in reality... no, this would be something new in my experience and I really couldn't tell if I had actually heard it, or if it was just me daydreaming again. Besides, if Denise Richards walked up to you and told you she wanted you to fuck her wouldn't you want to hear it over and over again?

"Yeah, I heard you, but I can't have heard what I think I heard, so would you mind repeating it?"

She had reached the couch where I was sitting and was standing there with her hands on her hips, the determined look replaced by one of growing impatience. Slowly and clearly she repeated her statement.

"I said, I want you to fuck me."

"Sorry, I'm still not getting it. Could you repeat it again? And this time..."

"Do you want me to slap you?"

No, that didn't sound like nearly as much fun as the other thing. But I just couldn't believe that Denise was being serious about this.

"Denise, come on! You can't be serious!"

"Why not?"

"Well for one thing you're married..."

"Fat lot of good that's done me!"

"... and for another thing, you're gay!"

"That didn't stop me from marrying a guy in the first place!"

This much was true. It hadn't stopped her. But there was a story there, and I was one of the few people around who knew it. Denise and Charlie's marriage was one of convenience in the finest tradition of Hollywood sham marriages. Only this time it wasn't the leading man who was gay, it was the bride. The leading man was just the biggest horn dog this side of Wilt Chamberlin. By marrying each other they had both gotten the cover of respectability, Charlie appearing to finally settle down and stop his whoring ways, and Denise throwing off the growing suspicion that she played for the home team. Plus, fringe benefit, Denise really wanted children and this had seemed like the best way to accomplish that goal. Two birds with one license. Just one problem, Charlie was never home long enough to stick it to Denise and get her pregnant.

"Which begs the question, why me? Shouldn't you be looking for your husband?"

Even as the words were leaving my mouth I was mentally kicking myself. Denise Richards was offering to make my greatest fantasy a reality and here I was trying to talk my way out of it. Sometimes...

Denise chose to ignore my second question completely, "Why not you? You're here..."

Talk about your ego busters.

"... you're young, you're reasonably good looking, you can get it up... You can get it up can't you?"

My turn to ignore a question. A raised eyebrow and a small smirk being my only answer.

"Hmmm. Anyway, all of that is beside the point. The real reason is I'm tired of waiting and you can give me what I want."

"A cock?"

"Don't be vulgar. No, a baby."

How had I not seen this coming? What other reason could a lesbian have for wanting to fuck me? In spite of all the porno movies to the contrary, all gay women really do not harbor a secret desire for a good hard rogering from every guy they encounter. No, really, they don't. They tend not to be attracted to guys sexually, hence the whole lesbian thing. So if one does approach you and asks you to fuck her, there is probably a good reason for her to do so. Like with Denise. She really wanted a baby and she needed a guy to be the father. Needed a guy to be the father. To be the father. The father. The Father!

I looked up at Denise, the panic growing by the second as it finally dawned on me exactly what it was she was asking me to do. My original reluctance to her request, okay, demand, was now replaced by mind-numbing terror. I started to protest and she leaned over and placed a finger against my lips. Before the first words had even left my mouth she was already anticipating my objections and trying to quell my fears.

"Shh, shh shh shh. I know, I know. It's a big responsibility. You're not sure that you're ready for it. And even if you are you couldn't possibly bring a child into the world and not be a part of its life..."

Well she was certainly hitting all the bullet points. It was a big responsibility and I wasn't sure I was ready for it. And I definitely wasn't the kind of guy who could walk away from their kid and leave it for someone else to raise as his own. But Denise had answers for all of it. I could be as involved or uninvolved as I wanted. An absentee father or father of the year, whatever I wanted to be, when I wanted to be. And also if I wanted, the child would know me as its father, not Charlie. In fact Denise even had a plan to use this to her advantage. She would leak the child's parentage to the press and allow Charlie to sue her for divorce. It would be perfect. Charlie could go back to womanizing for a while and no one would blame him, and Denise would put another nail in the coffin of the rumors about her orientation. And she would get the baby she wanted so badly. A win-win situation for everybody.

Except for me. Maybe.

To be honest as I sat there listening to her explaining everything I was already losing track of why I would object to Denise's proposal in the first place, so busy was I watching her as she countered my opposition.

You see, Denise is a very, very beautiful woman. Very beautiful. And before that she had been a beautiful girl, and before that a beautiful child. All the way back to her days as an infant she had been beautiful. For her whole life she had been beautiful. And she had learned a few things along the way about how that beauty could be used to influence people. Get them to do things for her, give things to her that she wanted. Especially men. Particularly horny men who desperately, and not so secretly, had wanted her from the moment they had first laid eyes on her angelic face. So when Denise wanted something, and could not get it just by the asking, she tended to resort to other tactics to achieve her goal. Tactics that had been learned over a lifetime and honed to near perfection by years of practical application getting what she wanted from Hollywood producers and other men. In other words she used her sex appeal.

Which, if I had been thinking clearly, would have been really, really funny. In an ironic sort of way. Using sex appeal to convince someone who already desires you to have sex with you. Seems kind of redundant, doesn't it? Only I wasn't thinking clearly, thoughts of a ready and willing Denise already pushing everything else out of my mind, so the irony of the situation was lost on me.

In my defense she wasn't exactly playing fair here. A skilled practitioner like Denise has many ways of using her appeal, from the subtle through the flirty to the out-and-out forthright. Or, as was the case here, she could hit you with the sexual equivalent of a sledge hammer. As she was talking Denise had started to remove her skirt.

Now to a casual observer this might have appeared as if Denise was simply confident she could overcome my objections and she was just saving time, my eventual acceptance of her proposal a foregone conclusion. But if that was the case then why hadn't she started by removing her top? Why start with the skirt?

Because Denise knew that while showing me her tits would be exciting, it wouldn't be enough to overcome all my resistance and get me to agree to give her what she wanted. She knew I had already seen her tits. Hell, everyone with cable TV and a VCR had already seen her tits. No, Denise knew that to really wear me down and get me to simply agree to her demands she was going to have to do something that would so capture my attention there would be hardly anything left to continue fighting with. So she pulled out the big gun. Figuratively speaking of course.

From the second her fingers moved to the zipper on the side of her skirt my eyes were shifting back and forth from her gorgeous face to the hands that were now tugging at her garment. With a couple of sexy shakes of her hips the article of clothing slid to the ground and she was left standing there in just her black leather top and a thong. It was at this point that my eyes had stopped their shifting and remained firmly focused on the small swatch of fabric that was all that remained between me and nirvana. Basically I was now conducting my argument with Denise's crotch.

Until, that is, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and in one swift movement sent her thong to the ground to join her skirt. The discussion became far more one sided after that.

Words left me as I sat there staring at this beautiful woman's equally beautiful vagina. It was obvious to me that she waxed. Her bush was shaped into the ever popular landing strip, albeit Denise chose to keep her rectangle a little wider than most. She also seemed to let the hair grow a little longer than the usual closely trimmed style, perhaps as a way of contrasting with her very, very bare labia. Bare and puffy and oh so lickable.

My cock entered into the dispute. It did not take my side.

Denise was still talking to me as I sat there staring at her twat, putting up less and less resistance to her arguments with every passing second. I hadn't even noticed her removing her top and now she was standing there completely naked, asking me once again to give her what she wanted.

"So? Will you do it? Please say yes."

What was the question? Oh right. Denise wanted me to fuck her. My biggest fantasy was coming true. One of the most beautiful women in the world was asking, no, begging, me to fuck her. But, as is frequently the case when a fantasy comes to fruition, it was happening on terms not of my choosing. There was a condition. A big, fat, fucking condition.

A noble man would have said no. A stronger man would have walked away, head held high. An honorable man would have placed his own terms and conditions on the deal before pledging to be there always for the child and its mother. A gay man would have said something funny.

I was none of those.

What I was was more turned on than I had ever been before. All rational thought was eclipsed by one overpowering all-encompassing desire. I wanted to fuck the shit out of this woman. Always had. It didn't matter that she wanted me to be the father of her child, it didn't matter that she was married to another man and it sure as hell didn't matter that she was a lesbian. Nothing else mattered except that she was there and she was naked and she was willing. What more could any guy want?

I said yes.

Consequences be damned.

The words were still echoing in my mind's ear when from somewhere in the back of my mind another thought appeared. What were the odds really of getting Denise pregnant on the first try? Slim to none I supplied in answer to my own question. I latched on to this without even knowing if it was true or not. For the first time since Denise had entered the room a smile found its way onto my face. Perhaps this could work out after all. I could make love to Denise and fulfill my fantasy, and when she didn't get pregnant I could act disappointed and walk away. Quickly. Oh gee Denise, bad luck that. Well, these things take time you know. Speaking of which, wouldja look at how late it is. Gotta run. Say hi to Charlie and good luck with that whole getting pregnant thing. My smile grew larger.

Upon hearing my answer and seeing the smile on my face Denise clapped her hands together and proceeded to lie down on her back on the couch with her legs bent at the knees and her feet flat on the cushions, just inches away from my thigh, "Okay good. Take off your clothes!"

"What? Now? Here?"

"Yes now. I just checked and this is the perfect time for me to try and get pregnant. Why, did you have someplace better to be?"

As she was saying this Denise allowed her legs to part slightly, pressing her right leg into the back of the couch while she lowered her left foot to the floor. She had her upper body propped up on her elbows and as I watched she took both hands and started to squeeze her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples lightly, the pink nubs growing erect from the attention. My eyes moved back to the patch of fur between Denise's legs and to the bare, puffy lips below it. Oh sweet mama.

I stood up and started to undress.

When I was fully naked I just stood where I was for a minute stroking my already hard cock and gazing at this nude goddess before me. Dear Lord what an exquisite creature she was. The hair, the face, those breasts, those legs, that twat. All perfect. She was easily the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. It probably goes without saying then that once this was over she would be the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid. I felt more blood rush to my penis.

When one minute turned into two and threatened to turn into more Denise began to get impatient, clearing her throat noisily and saying "I'm not going to be ovulating forever you know."

It was a real effort to tear my eyes away from that incredible pussy and focus on Denise's face. She had a half grin on her face and was regarding me with one eyebrow raised. I had heard what she said but the words hadn't really registered with me and it must have shown so she tried again to get me going.

"Do you need some help getting started?"

Looking down to the fully erect unit I was still slowly stroking and then back up to Denise, I gave her a happy smile as I said "Apparently not. But thanks for asking."

She rolled her eyes at that and then in some exasperation said "That's not what I meant."

It's not? Then what could she... oh. Right.

I moved over to the couch and got into position between Denise's thighs with my left knee on the cushion and my right foot remaining flat on the floor. Once in place I thought maybe I should have taken Denise up on her offer to help. Not because I didn't know what to do, believe me I did, but because I couldn't decide where to start. So many tasty treats were laid out before me and I wanted to sample them all at once. My fantasy might not be playing out exactly the way I imagined it, but it was happening and Denise Richards was lying there naked before me, just waiting for me to touch her. And I'd probably still be there trying to decide where to begin if Denise had not brushed her right leg against my hand.

That little touch was all that was needed to break the deadlock and get me to make my opening move. I reached out with my left hand and placed it on Denise's right leg just above the knee. I ran it along her silky soft skin, moving upward on her thigh and stopping before I got too close to her groin. I may have wanted to sample it all but I wasn't sure how ready Denise was for me to dive right in, so I decided to take things slow. With my left hand still on her upper thigh I repeated the action with my other hand on her left leg, once again stopping before it got too personal. I paused there for a few seconds, letting her adjust to the feel of my hands on her body and using my thumbs to lightly caress her skin and marveling at how incredibly soft it felt.

After the short delay I started to move my hands again, sending them out to her hips and up onto her stomach, skirting the pubic area completely and progressing up the blonde's torso to her breasts. Touching Denise like this had been such a large part of my reveries for so long that it was almost impossible to believe that I was finally about to live out the dream, but all I had to do was concentrate on the feel of her flesh beneath my hands to know that this was no fantasy. I could never have imagined such smooth, flawless skin, and I have a damn good imagination for these things.

Resisting the temptation to be unduly distracted by the creamy surface beneath them, my hands traveled the last few inches and arrived at Denise's tits, coming in under the large, firm globes and cupping them in my palms. I squeezed her flesh, softly at first and then with increasing pressure while I rubbed my thumbs across her erect nipples, my heart hammering in my chest as I knelt there, my dream turned to reality. Each time my thumb brushed against her nipple Denise closed her eyes and gasped softly until she reached up with her hands and grabbed my wrists, stilling my wandering hands and stopping the stimulation of her sensitive nubs. I guess Denise wasn't enjoying the foreplay as much as I was.

She started to speak, then stopped to clear her throat before continuing, "Why don't... ahem... Why don't we get started?" her voice still a little thick with... desire?

Well well well. Maybe Denise was getting a bit more out of this than either of us expected. Either way, I had just gotten the green light. It was showtime.

Straightening up, I lowered myself until I was properly positioned between Denise's spread legs and took my cock in my right hand and brushed it up and down along Denise's slit, rubbing the tip against her lips in preparation for entering her at long last. After years of fantasizing and some convincing on my part the time had come for me to finally make love to Denise. I was ready.

That made one of us.

Uh oh.

Houston, we have a problem.

What to do, what to do. A smile came to my face. Oh well, if I must I must.

I moved down on the couch, starting to get into position lying between Denise's legs. There wasn't nearly enough room for me to lie comfortably but given what I was about to do I could not have cared less. When I was positioned as well as could be expected I wrapped my left arm around Denise's right leg, which was still pressed against the back of the sofa, and moved my hand down so that I could use my fingers to help spread her lips. Denise had been watching me throughout all this with a curious expression, remaining quiet until she saw me start to move my face toward her muff.

"What are you doing?"

I gazed up at Denise, the puzzled look on my countenance a perfect mirror to the one she was casting at me, "Umm. You're not... umm... completely... umm... ready. I was going to... " I gestured with my right hand, making a small circular motion with it and then moving it back and forth between my jaw and her snatch "... umm... do something about that."

"Oh no, no you don't. Not that way!"

"But Denise! We need to... you know."

"Then find another way! But not that! You're not here to have fun you know!"

We continued staring at each other for a few moments until finally with a heavy sigh I looked away. Find another way. Find another way. What other way could I use to get Denise wet enough for me to enter her without causing her any discomfort? And then I had it.

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