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4,004 | Dice Erotica | "Hi, Georgia!" I say to you as my female friend and I enter your apartment. "This is my friend, Pamela."
You glance quickly over her as she smiles at you. She's attractive, fairly well-built and as tall as you, with long brown hair and hazel eyes.
We remove our coats, sit down with you and enjoy the drinks you serve, then make small talk for a while until we feel comfortable with each other. Then I finally mention we might as well start the game.
"Exactly how do we play?" you ask, not at all familiar with "Dice Erotica."
"It's a very simplified, but erotic form of strip poker," I reply. "But, instead of using cards, we use dice. We each roll a dice; if we roll a 2, 3, 4 or 5, we do nothing. If we roll a 1, we must remove an article of clothing; if we roll a 6, we must take one of these 'Performance' cards"--I show a small pack of cards to you--"and do what it says. We have one minute to do the required act."
That said, I produce a dice, put the Performance cards face down on the coffee table.
Pamela, you and I sit facing each other on cushions on the floor.
"You go first," you say to me as you settle yourself to my left. Pamela sits to my right, but your left.
I roll the dice.
Me: 3
You: 1
You undo your blouse and take it off. I'm surprised that you aren't wearing a bra, but it doesn't matter; sooner or later it would come off, anyway.
Pamela: 5
Me: 6
I draw a Performance Card. It reads, "Perform oral sex on the person to your left."
I look at you. You lift up your skirt and I see you aren't wearing any panties. A grin crosses your face as you lean back, pull up your skirt and open your legs. I head in, my tongue licking at your cunt, stabbing into your hole and thrusting around your clitoris.
Pamela calls time after one minute. You're almost breathless.
You pick up the dice: 4
Pamela: 2
Me: 5
You: 3
Pamela: 1
Pamela removes her skirt. She's not wearing any panties either.
Me: 4
You: 2
Pamela: 3
Me: 5
You: 6
You take a Performance Card and read it. Then you crawl over to me and pull down the zipper of my pants. You reach inside, grab my cock and pull it out. Slowly, you begin to move the skin back and forth, then as my cock begins to harden, you squeeze it and rub it faster. I moan with the good feelings I'm starting to get, but before you can bring me to a climax, Pamela calls time.
You release me, playful pouts on both our faces as we look at Pamela.
Pamela rolls the dice: 2
Me: 1
I take off my pants. Oddly enough, I'm not wearing underpants, either!
You: 4
Pamela: 6
She takes a card and reads it. Then she opens her legs and begins to rub her clitoris, which is already wet and shiny. She slides her finger back and forth over her labia slowly and we watch it disappear occasionally into her dark cunt.
Then, any further desire to play the game disappears as you draw your skirt up to reveal your own wet pussy. You begin to masturbate yourself and, not being one to be left out, I wrap my fingers around my cock and begin to pump it slowly, watching both of you finger yourselves.
Then you suddenly stop, twist onto your hands and knees and bury your face between Pamela's thighs. She gasps aloud as your tongue finds her clit and swirls slowly around it. She grabs your head, pulls you closer into her mound.
The sight of you eating Pamela excites me more and my cock swells and hardens in my grasp.
I tell you to lie on your back. As you do so, I motion for Pamela to get on her hands and knees. I pull her buttocks gently over your head so that you can raise your mouth to her cunt and continue your tonguing of her clit.
Then I position myself over your breasts and behind Pamela. I guide my pulsing probe into her cunt and thrust deep inside her again and again. I feel your hot breath on my cock as it slides in and out, then the wetness of your tongue as it flicks from Pamela's clit to my balls and back again.
I lubricate my finger with her juices, then insert it into her bum. I begin alternating the in-and-out movement of my cock and my finger. Pamela groans loudly as the triple stimulation of my cock and finger and your tongue causes her to explode. She cries out in ecstasy.
Then I feel myself cumming, too. I pull myself from her cunt just as my cock begins to squirt its load, the hot white cream jetting onto her bum and cunt lips, your mouth and chin and neck.
When I finish my spasms, Pamela rolls sideways. I stand astride you, the last drops of my cum dribbling down to your breasts.
I look down at you. "Now," I say with a smile, "Now, it's your turn...." | 1 |
4,007 | My Mom's a Babe | "NOT A WORD, JUST GO TO YOUR ROOM AND PACK!"
Mom was in a foul mood. Mom and Dad had been planning this holiday for ages, and the day we were due to go, bang! Dad's office called - an important client wanted some work done like yesterday, and Dad was who they wanted. I guess it was kind of flattering they chose him, and it made his promotion all the more certain, but was Mom interested? No! Dad just managed to get out of the house in one piece, leaving me to face the music. I didn't want to go to the coast; I would have rather stayed at home with the guys from school and surfed the net. I was about to say so too, when I saw that look on Mom's face. You know the one, the one that says, "Just you dare step out of line, mister!"
"Yes, Mom!" I ran to my room and packed everything I needed in about 10 minutes flat.
The drive was long and boring. I sat staring out of the window and wondered if I could survive two weeks away from my PC. It was late evening when we arrived, the sun was just going down; a few people walked the beach. It was that in-between time when people were busy preparing for the night ahead after an exhausting day relaxing on the beach. Mom had calmed down by now and was beginning to regret what she had called Dad. She knew it wasn't his fault, and he was as disappointed as she was. Why did this always have to happen?
As we were on holiday, Mom let me have a few beers while we watched the TV. We were both surprisingly tired. I fell asleep on the couch, well, that's where I was when I woke up the next morning. The sun poured in through the wide beach house windows, and the delicious smell of eggs and bacon wafted from the kitchen. I swung my legs off the couch and stood up. SHIT! The whole room jumped 3 feet to the left; I sat back down again as my head began to spin. Mom walked in with a beaming smile.
"Well, mister, I thought you could handle your drink?"
"Get a doctor, Mom! I think I'm dying!"
Mom handed me a glass full of white fizzy water. "Ugh!" it was awful.
"You'll survive, have some breakfast, you'll feel a lot better."
After wolfing my breakfast down and drinking several mugs of black coffee, well, that's what they do in the movies, my head felt lots better, my stomach felt worse. Eventually, my body decided I was too young to die just yet, and I felt okay by about lunchtime. I decided to see what the outside world looked like; I went out onto the front porch. My jaw hit the floor, my eyes bulged out so much they hurt - wall-to-wall female flesh, everywhere!
"So you found the door at last!"
I turned to face Mom, "Oh, man." Mom was walking towards me, almost wearing a white bikini. Two tiny white triangles covered her nipples, leaving nearly all of her large white breasts uncovered. My eyes moved down her body; her bottom half was equally exposed. A thin strip of material covered her pussy, held in place by thin ties on each side. Mom was about as naked as you could get with your clothes on.
"Don't be such a prude, Terry!"
I closed my mouth and smiled.
"Wow! Mom, I bet you're the best-looking woman on the beach."
"Why, thank you; this was supposed to be a surprise for your father. I guess he'll just have to wait until next year now."
"Oh! Mom, you're a real babe. I bet all the guys on the beach will go blind looking at you."
Mom smiled at me.
"Well, they're out of luck - you can tell them from me, this babe is private property, the property of the Carlson family."
"You bet, Mom!"
As Mom walked indoors, I just couldn't help looking at her ass; the bikini disappeared between her firm cheeks. Oh, fuck, was I hard. Mom reappeared 5 minutes later with a tube of sun cream, her tits jiggled as she rubbed the cream into her skin. She slid her hands over her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze as she smoothed in the thick white sun block. I limped to my room, trying to hide my hard-on, and jerked off over a mental picture of my mother!
I was still in my room an hour later, trying to think up ways of seeing Mom naked. I had never thought of Mom as a woman before; Mom was, well, just Mom. In the short time of 60 minutes, I has discovered a new obsession. Mom was calling my name, wearing just swimming trunks, I went to see what she wanted.
"There you are," Mom rolled onto her belly, much to my disappointment. "Do my back, will you."
My hand trembled as I picked up the tube of sun cream; my prick started to harden. I squeezed the cream onto Mom's back and began massaging it in. My prick was already hard.
"Mmmmmmm! That's nice."
After finishing her back, I took a chance and squeezed two big blobs of cream onto her ass. I was expecting her to object as soon as the cool cream touched her cheeks. Mom said nothing. I slid my hands over Mom's ass, exploring her cheeks as I rubbed in the cream. Mom parted her legs slightly; I could see the outline of her pussy through the thin white material. I let out a gasp as I suddenly realized that Mom must have shaved her pussy. My Mom, she shaves her cunt just like in the magazines, wow!
"If you don't stop rubbing my ass pretty soon, you'll wear it out!"
"Sorry, Mom! I just didn't want you getting burnt."
"I bet!"
I went back inside and decided to explore the house for a good vantage point for peeping on Mom. Nothing! Short of drilling holes through the wall, I was stuck; but then again, why not drill a few holes? I spent the rest of the day searching for a non-existent drill. I went to bed frustrated and horny.
The next morning, Mom was out sunbathing as expected.
"Hi, Mom."
"Morning, Terry."
"D-Do you need your b-back rubbed today?"
"Mmmm, why not, you did a real good job yesterday."
Mom rolled over, her legs were open wide, and her arms were raised over her head rather than at her sides. Her breasts bulged out, looking smooth and creamy. I rubbed her back, then moved onto her ass like yesterday, but didn't spend too much time on her ass this time. I let some cream miss her back and run down onto her left breast; Mom said nothing. My hands continued their circular motion as they moved from her shoulders down her back; I kept smoothing in the cream level with Mom's breasts. I slowly moved my hands down her sides, my fingertips touched her soft, warm tit flesh; Mom didn't object. I gave the sides of her tits a gentle squeeze; I heard her gasp and returned to rubbing her back. She still hadn't said anything, her eyes were closed. I looked at her pussy and dripped some cream onto Mom's inner thigh, just below her crotch. My hands slid over her legs, slowly moving upwards. I knew I couldn't just touch her there, I had to content myself with running my fingers along the edge of her bikini bottoms.
"What are you doing, young man?"
"Nothing, Mom!"
"Well, I think it's time you did nothing somewhere else."
"Okay, Mom."
I decided to investigate the attic and stumbled across some magazines on naturists; they were only a few months old and did a good job selling a healthy, natural image. How to get in touch with your natural self, be at one with nature and the environment, get closer to your family without the guilt, free yourself from the prison of social taboo, your clothes are like dead skin, reveal the real you. I knew Mom was a real sucker for the hard sell; Mom is one of those people who believes what she reads. My next course of action was clear - make sure these magazines were mixed in with the others on the rack.
That evening, after Mom had just finished her shower, she sat down in just her bathrobe and started to flick through the magazine rack; I made some excuse to go to my room. Once upstairs, I made all the right noises to make it sound as if I was in my room for the night, I turned on the TV just loud enough to cover any noise I made as I crept out, but low enough not to annoy Mom. I watched as she opened the first magazine; she began to read.
As Mom turned the pages, her legs gradually crept open. She placed the magazine next to her on the couch, her free hand slid under her robe, and Mom began to moan. I watched, fascinated, as Mom masturbated. I held my breath as her robe opened; I could just see her cleavage. Mom let the robe fall from her shoulders, both her tits were in full view, her hand reached up and pulled at her nipples. Her large, dark brown nipples stood out against the white of her skin, as she twisted her teats, they became erect, Mom's whole nipple puffed out as her groans became more urgent.Her robe fell open completely now, as one hand turned the pages, her other hand buried three fingers into her smooth pussy. I was disappointed that I couldn't see much of her pussy, as her hand was in the way.
"Ooooooooh!"
Mom's chest was thrust out, as her breathing became heavier, her hand worked on her pussy faster and harder.
"Nnnnnnnnghgh!"
Mom's whole body went stiff, then seemed to judder as she came. Silently, I crept back to my room, wondering what new opportunities tomorrow would bring.
The following day, mom asked if I was going out anywhere. I told her I was going to wander into town and would probably be gone for 3 to 4 hours. This was a lie, as it was just so obvious that mom didn't want me around. We said our goodbyes, and I walked until I was out of sight of the house, then turned around and crept back in. I watched as mom hung some towels along the front of the porch, making sure that no one on the beach could see her. She sat on her beach towel and took off the top of her bikini, quickly followed by the bottoms. She smoothed the sun cream over her body, paying special attention to her nipples and pussy. Mom lay on her back, legs open wide, fingering herself. By now, my prick was as hard as iron. I went to my room and loaded my auto-focus pocket camera. On the fourth attempt, I managed to get the film in, and I crept downstairs. Mom had finished playing with herself, and disappointed, I had to think of what to do. Mom had dozed off; her slow, rhythmic breathing caused her still-excited breasts to move up and down. I walked out onto the porch and took the first of 36 pictures. How I was going to get them developed was something I would have to figure out later.
I let mom doze for an hour; I changed into my trunks, re-loaded my camera, and walked onto the porch.
"Hi, mom!" Mom looked up at me, still half-asleep.
"Wow! You look really great!" I raised the camera and fired off 3 shots.
"Nooooooo!" Mom suddenly remembered she was naked, as she sat up and tried to cover herself, I fired off several more pictures.
"W, What are you doing here?"
"The town's dead, so I came back early."
Mom had her right hand over her pussy and her left hand covered her right breast. Her left breast bulged over her arm, fully exposed. I fired off some more shots. Mom was flustered; she didn't know what to do.
"Stop that! NOW!"
"What's wrong, mom? You look beautiful."
"That's not the point!"
"Who's the prude now! Anyway, these will show dad what he's missed."
Mom thought for a moment, then smiled, "He'll be really pissed, won't he?"
"Sure! And I bet he doesn't miss another holiday, that's what you want, isn't it?"
Mom grinned, "Okay, mister; how do you want me?"
This was amazing; it has got to be a dream! I got mom to kneel with her knees about a foot apart and cupping her breasts with her hands. I slowly made the poses more daring, holding just her nipples, she pulled her heavy breasts upwards. She knelt on all fours, pulling her ass cheeks apart, displaying her tight asshole. Legs spread as wide as she could get them, mom held her pussy open. I moved closer as she tweaked her clit. Mom's moans became louder as she pushed her fingers deeper into her wet pussy. I let mom get on with the show as I took more pictures.
"O Terry! I'm cumming, your mom's cumming!"
"Unnnnnghgh!"
Mom's whole body shook, then went limp; she lay there, fingers still inside herself, smiling at me. I took the two last pictures on the roll.
"If you're going to lay in the sun, I'd better put some cream on you!"
"You do whatever you want, Terry."
I stood over mom and pulled my trunks to one side, releasing my hard cock. Mom's eyes widened; she was about to stop me.
"It's only fair, mom! I watched you, you should get to watch me!"
She relaxed as I started pumping my prick with my hand. She watched every movement, and mom licked her lips in anticipation. As I wanked, I knelt down; I was now straddled over mom's belly. My right hand pumped harder, and my left reached out and began teasing mom's right nipple. She made a small cooing sound but made no move to stop me.
"Here it comes, mom, here it is!"
My first jet of cum landed on mom's tits; I managed to move forwards slightly. The second and third squirts hit her face, at least half going into her open mouth. She licked her lips and swallowed. I reached down and pushed all the cum still on mom's face into her mouth. She sucked my finger as it slid between her lips, then using both hands, I massaged the white, sticky blobs of cum that were on her tits into her skin until it had all been absorbed by her body.
"O boy! That was really great, mom!"
"Glad to have been of service, sir!" she said sarcastically. "Now, how about a proper rub-down before I burn out here!"
I picked up a bottle of sun oil; mom had used up all the cream. I poured some onto her belly and began rubbing it in. With slow, deliberate motions, I covered her body with a layer of shimmering oil. Saving the best for last, I had only mom's tits and pussy to do. Mom gasped as I poured the cool oil over each of her nipples. As I massaged her breasts, her nipples returned to their previous state of excitement. I loved it as they puffed up; her whole areola formed a perfect brown dome that stood an inch high, tipped with mom's erect teats. Mom opened her legs; I poured oil directly onto her pussy. Mom groaned and wiggled her hips. I slowly massaged her lips, my fingers brushing against her clit as they found mom's hole. My fingers slid into mom's pussy with ease, lubricated by sun oil and pussy juice; her pussy was ready and willing.
"Not just yet, baby! Do your mommy's back first."
Mom rolled over, and I started again. By now, my prick was hard and ready for action, but I didn't mind. I was sure I was going to fuck mom, and I knew that she was worth the wait. Her ass looked at me, inviting me to touch it; the oil ran over her cheeks as I poured it on. I placed the bottle between her cheeks and watched mom wriggle as the oil ran between, over her asshole, and onto her already wet pussy. As I rubbed her ass, I let my hand slide between her ass cheeks and started to massage her anus; I felt it open slightly and grip the tip of my finger. Mom raised her ass, I pushed; mom groaned as my finger went inside her. As I finger-fucked mom's ass, I pushed in two fingers, and mom began frigging herself. It wasn't long before mom climaxed, as her body jerked, her ass seemed to suck my fingers as deep as they could go.
"O Terry, you've been real good to your mom today, let me rest now, okay, baby?"
Mom must have seen the look of pure lust written all over my face turn to frustration and disappointment.
"Don't worry, baby! Mommy will give you a real treat tonight!"
I winked at her and went inside to jack off yet again.
It was mid-evening, and I was getting the idea that this treat was never going to arrive. Mom had gone upstairs about 10 minutes ago, and I waited. Eventually, mom re-appeared; she had her bathrobe on, a towel over her arm, and a bottle in her hand.
"Time for your treat." Mom spread the towel on the floor. "Come on, get your clothes off; I'm going to give you a massage."
I took off my clothes, not really knowing what to expect. Mom made me lie face down; she stood behind me, so I couldn't see what she was doing. The next thing I know, Mom's straddled my back and is rubbing some sort of oil into my shoulders. As I enjoyed the soothing massage, it struck me that I couldn't feel any of mom's clothing against my skin, and my back felt slightly wet just where her pussy was. My prick jumped to attention; mom was naked. Oh boy, this was going to be good.
Mom worked her way around my body; she was massaging my butt when I felt more oil running down my butt crack and over my balls.
"Oh, mom, Oh, mom!"
I jerked as her fingernails brushed against my balls and started to tickle me between my balls and anus. Oh man, that was good. Mom's finger slid between the cheeks of my butt. No, she wouldn't; her finger forced its way into my well-oiled anus. It hurt a bit, but wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I felt mom kissing the cheeks of my butt as she pushed two fingers into my virgin ass.
Mom's voice was deep and sexy, "Turn over, you little shit."
I lay on my back, looking up at mom's tits. Did they look big from down here! She poured oil all over her tits and used them to massage my chest; I was in heaven. Mom worked her way down my body, soon my hard prick was being smothered in breast flesh, and every now and then one of mom's hard nipples would rub against the head of my cock.
"Oh, mom! I can't take any more! Ooooooooo!"
I was getting near to cumming, and mom knew it; she started wanking my prick.
"Come on, Terry, cum for mommy, cum for mommy."
My prick started to throb; my balls were ready to release their load. Oh god; mom's warm mouth closed around the head of my prick. I came straight into her mouth, mom sucked as I came, she wanted every drop and she got it. As my cock started to soften, I watched mom lick it clean.
"That was the best, mom! What a babe."
"I'm not finished with you yet."
Mom sucked my prick, making it hard in double-quick time; what a turn-on. She moved around into a sixty-nine, her juicy pussy was just inches from my face. I opened her pussy lips and looked at the little fleshy button that was her clit; her hole was moist and pink. Without really thinking, I thrust my tongue into her, I just wanted to taste her juices, I heard a muffled groan. I licked her clit, and then I sucked it into my mouth and massaged it with my tongue. Mom's sucking went up a notch. Her juices began to flow into my mouth.
"You taste so good, mom, you taste real good!"
Without warning, mom rolled off me and straddled my legs, her tits looked enormous, her nipples rock hard. She positioned my cock at the entrance to her pussy.
"Is this what you want, Terry?"
"Yes!"
"Are you sure? There's no going back!""I want to fuck your juicy cunt, mom!"
I couldn't believe what I had just said; mom's pussy gripped the head of my cock, and I watched as her soft, sexy pussy slowly ate my shaft. I grabbed a tit in each hand and squeezed them hard as mom bounced up and down; I matched mom's rhythm and thrust up as she came down. We rolled over so I was now on top, with mom's legs over my shoulders, and I fucked her well and hard.
"Nnnnnnghgh! Fuck me, Terry, fuck your mom!"
Mom was moaning like it was going out of fashion, my prick plunging in and out of her cunt, covered in her juices.
"I'm gonna cum! Mommy's gonna cum, baby!"
Mom's pussy gripped my prick as she came, and my balls shot their load right on cue. I felt so good, filling my own mom with a belly full of cum. We lay next to each other, exhausted, and mom leaned over and kissed me on the mouth. We kissed for about five minutes, exploring each other's mouth with our tongues.
"Oh, baby! That was good."
"I love you, mom."
We both cleaned up and went to bed. A dream had come true; I couldn't wait for tomorrow.
The next morning, mom was sitting on the couch wearing just a white blouse knotted around her waist and her bikini bottoms. She was reading one of the naturist magazines I had left out.
"Hi, mom."
She looked up as I walked towards her.
"Terry; I think we should talk."
I kissed her, pushing my tongue into her mouth. Mom didn't pull away.
"I don't think this is right!" she gasped as I pulled away.
I sat beside her and slid my hand inside her blouse. I felt her nipple respond as I rolled it between my fingers.
"Of course it's right, mom. We've never been closer, and I really enjoy giving you pleasure and making you cum. You do enjoy cumming, don't you?"
"Mmmmm! Of course I do. Ooooooooo! It's just that you're my son and. Nnnnnnnngh! Fuck me! Oh, Terry, I want to feel you cum inside me!"
Who was I to disobey my loving mom? Her clothes fell to the floor as I sucked greedily on her nipples. Both now naked, I told mom I wanted her doggie style, and she got onto all fours and wiggled her ass at me.
"Please fuck me! Please!"
Without any thought of foreplay or discomfort to mom, I grabbed her hips and thrust forward.
"Aaaaaaaaghnn!"
I drove my prick right into her pussy as far as it would go. At that moment in time, she was just a cunt begging to be fucked, and I fucked her. Harder she panted as I pounded my prick into her. Gradually, her juices made her pussy nice and slick. I smeared her asshole with her juice and pushed my thumb into her ass.
"Nnnnnnnnnngh! That's it, baby, fuck me like a slut! Oooooooooo!"
I pulled my prick out of her pussy and placed it on her lubricated anus.
"No, Terry! Not there! Please! Nooooooo!"
I pushed hard, and mom resisted at first, but I managed to get the head of my cock in her ass. She tried to crawl away, but I kept hold of her hips and lunged forwards.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaghggh!"
My prick forced its whole length into her bowels; I fucked her ass just as hard as I fucked her pussy. As mom became used to the sensation of a prick fucking her ass, she started to enjoy the wanton feeling it gave her.
"Oh, Terry, treat me like a whore! Nnnnnnnnngh!"
Mom was near to cumming, so was I.
"Oh, baby! Let me be your cunt, Ooooooooo! I'll do anything, just keep fucking me!"
My prick bulged inside her as my hot cum hit the insides of her belly, and mom couldn't hold back any longer.
"Mmmmmmmgh! Nnnnnnnghgh!"
We collapsed in a heap on the floor, cum dripping out of her ass onto the carpet.
"Lick it clean, mom!"
Mom licked my prick clean, running her tongue all around its head, sucking my balls. I was in charge now; this is where the holiday fun really begins...
BACK HOME
The holiday was over before we realized it, and mom and I had discovered a new and exciting side to our relationship that we were both loath to let go. During the second week, mom had taken down the towels she'd hung around the porch and sunbathed nude for all to see. I found out that she was really turned on by the idea of people watching her, looking at her defenseless naked body. I wasn't complaining, as mom was fucking me stupid every night to get it out of her system.
To make sure our little secret was safe from dad, we even went as far as taking roll after roll of boring holiday snaps - mom by the car, beach in the background, me by the car, mom and me by the car. I think you get the idea. With dad around the house, we had to let things cool off. I always managed to squeeze mom's ass behind dad's back or have a quick grope of her tits when the opportunity presented itself. Much to our relief, dad was given his much-deserved promotion. It meant more travelling, and he would be away from home at least two nights a week. To dad's surprise, mom said it was a wonderful opportunity for him to show the company what he really could do. Dad spent the next two weeks in a somewhat stunned state; he was waiting for the argument and the tears, but they didn't appear. He never did figure out what he'd done right.
Dad's first night away coincided with our weekly shop, so I had to go with mom to help carry the shopping. Once at the store, I left mom pushing the trolley, getting all the usual bits and bobs for the following week. I finally caught up with her about 40 minutes later and added my own selection to her trolley.
"What on earth have you got there!" mom started rummaging through my shopping.
"Well, I thought I would pick up a few bits for tonight, seeing as dad's not home."
"I see, so what exactly have you got in here?"
I had to come clean. "A bottle of wine, some of that spray-on cream, a cucumber, a really big carrot, some film for my camera, a tub of margarine, oh, and I found some seamed stockings for you to wear."
Mom went bright red as she realized that apart from the stockings and film, every item on my list would find its way inside her body at some point in the evening.
"I guess we'd better get going, if I'm to get ready for your little party."
We didn't say much on the way home; what was there to say? I knew what turned mom on, and as long as I pushed the right buttons, she would do whatever I asked. There was a downside, of course - to stay in her good books, I had to dress a bit smarter, clean my room, and do odd jobs around the house. The rewards for these small sacrifices were enormous, and well worth the effort.
After our evening meal, mom went upstairs to shower and change, and I went into the garden and moved some of the plastic chairs closer to the house. Mom came down sometime later, looking amazing. She was wearing her 4-inch heels, the black seamed stockings, her red panties with a matching suspender belt and bra, and a smile, of course. I gave mom a glass of wine and loaded my camera. Mom went over to the couch and posed on one of the arms. I shook my head and led mom to the back garden.
"I can't go out here dressed like this!"
"Of course you can; you know everyone's watching TV this time of night."
"But what if they're not?"
"Then they're in for a very pleasant surprise!"
I knew I was winning the argument; this was just what mom wanted, plus her pussy was giving her away - a small damp patch was visible on her panties. I gave mom another glass of wine. She went over to the chair and stood with one knee on the seat and began posing. Tame stuff at first, but a bottle of wine later, mom was ready to give the neighbors a show.
I pulled the garden table into the center of the lawn; the neighbors should get a good eyeful if they could be bothered to get off their backsides. Mom was down to her suspender belt, stockings, and shoes. I gave mom the tub of margarine; she ripped off the top and sank her fingers into the yellow grease. She smeared it all over her tits and pussy, and I snapped away, hoping the flash would attract some attention. As she turned around, her fingers disappeared into her ass, stretching her tight little asshole. Mom was groaning as I handed her the cucumber. She held it in her hands, just looking at its rough skin and wide girth. She raised it to her mouth and began licking and sucking the tip. Slowly, she lay across the table, knees raised, and placed the cucumber at the entrance to her pussy. It sank into her pussy, her clit rubbing against its rough skin, and mom began to fuck herself. At first, she was only using the first 6 inches, but mom gradually drove it deeper into her pussy. A mixture of margarine, sweat, and pussy juice formed a pool between her legs. The cucumber made a loud schlurping sound as it slid in and out of her body.
"Mmmmmmmm!"
A full 10 inches was going in now; these pictures were hot.
"Nnnnnnnnnngh!"
Mom's pace was getting faster; her head was thrown back, her tits heaving up and down.
"I'm cumming! Rrrrrrrrrghgh! Oh, god! Nnnnnnnnnnghghgh!"
Mom arched her back; her body shook as her climax burst through her. As she got her head together, I handed her the carrot. She just looked at me blankly.
"We can't have your ass feeling left out, can we!"
Mom greased the giant carrot and began working it into her ass. Like the cucumber, mom started with small thrusts, but very soon, it was almost disappearing from sight as her ass swallowed it. Her free hand rubbed her clit; she looked at me as I walked around her, shooting every detail from every angle.
"Oooooooo! Shit!"
Mom shook the whole table as she came for a second time. Totally exhausted, she just lay on the tabletop, not caring if the whole world was watching. I walked over to her and pushed the cucumber back into her pussy. I lay mom on her side and took several shots of both her holes bulging with nature's goodness. I then took out my prick and pushed it into her open mouth; she started to suck without even thinking about it. I looked down and finished the roll with pictures of my prick fucking mom's face. After shooting my load down her throat, I took her indoors - I really did fancy some cream on my tart tonight.I let Mom lounge on the couch, legs apart displaying her ample charms. I went to the kitchen and took the can of cream out of the fridge. I sprayed a little on each of her hard nipples, she moaned, then moaned again as I licked it off and sucked her tits. I pushed the nozzle into her pussy; Mom gasped as the cool cream filled her hole. I pushed my finger between her pussy lips, it re-emerged covered in a white creamy slime, and I pushed it into Mom's mouth and watched her suck it clean.
"Eat my cunt, Terry! Be a good boy and eat Mommy's cunt!"
Holding her pussy open, I began lapping at the cream, gently at first, then I thought, "What the fuck!" and buried my face in Mom's pussy, sucking the delicious mix of cream and pussy juice into my mouth.
"Oooooh, baby! You're gonna make me cum!"
I pulled Mom's clit into my mouth and tried to suck it clean off her cunt.
"Nnnnnnnnngh!"
I sucked harder as Mom's legs wrapped around my head.
"I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Unnnngh! Nnnnnnnnnngh!"
As she came, a thick squirt of her juice filled my mouth; I drank it, greedy for more. We then sat with our arms around each other, just enjoying the moment.
"Did you enjoy being in the garden, Mom?"
"You know I did."
"Good, that's what I wanted to hear."
"And what exactly does that mean?"
"Wait and see, Mom, wait and see."
I went to sleep that night trying to think of ways Mom could be displayed around the town. I reasoned that if she would flash in public places, I could get her to go naked in public as well.
We started the following week when we went shopping. Mom wore 4-inch heels, a short denim mini skirt that buttoned down the front, and a white blouse. As we walked around the store, the men and quite a few women openly admired Mom's tits, a dark shadow made by her brown nipples could clearly be seen through the fabric of her blouse. Mom unbuttoned a few more buttons, as she leaned forward over the chiller cabinets, her large breasts swung down, barely contained. As she looked around, about twenty men suffered whiplash as they tried to look away and pretend they weren't ogling Mom's tits. Mom looked at me and winked.
As we wandered around the store, Mom started taking an interest in almost anything on the bottom shelf. She would squat down, letting her legs part, and her skirt ride up, giving anyone looking a flash of her smooth shaven pussy. Mom was the cause of at least six trolley crashes, one of which demolished a display of fresh fruit. Carefully picking our way through the oranges, peaches, and mangoes that were rolling around the floor, we decided it was time to leave.
When we got in the car, Mom sat behind the wheel, head thrown back, fingering herself for all she was worth.
"Oh god! That was good, did you see their faces, Terry?"
I reached over and pulled open Mom's blouse. Her nipples stood out nice and hard as her tits jiggled in time with her thrusting fingers. Never without my camera, I fired off a few shots, in the background, you could see husbands being pulled away by disapproving wives, guys my age comparing my Mom to theirs, and licking their lips. Mom let out a deep guttural grunt as she came; her skin glistened with sweat. As we drove home, I looked forward to a really good fuck!
We were hardly through the front door when I sank my hard cock into Mom's slopping wet pussy; her juices were running down the insides of her legs, making her thighs slick and shiny.
"Fuck me! Hurry up and fucking fuck me!"
"Mmmmmmmmghgh!"
Without ceremony, I drove my whole length into her hot pussy. Mom wrapped her legs around me and tried to push me deeper inside her. We fucked like animals, rolling around on the floor. Our mouths locked together as my prick sank into her soft, willing flesh. Her hard nipples pressed into my chest, I managed to grab hold of a nipple as we rolled over. I pinched it hard!
"Ooooooooooo! I'm cumming, Terry!"
As I felt my balls throb, I pinched Mom's nipple again, harder this time.
"I'm cumming, baby! Mommy's cumming!"
Mom's pussy grabbed my prick as I filled her with hot cum, I couldn't stop; I thought she was sucking my balls out through my prick.
"Oh, baby! That was good, real good."
"Mom, you're the best! The best piece of ass any son could want."
We kissed, and looked forward to next week's shop.
The following week, I persuaded Mom that she needed some new clothes, the first shop on our list was the shoe store. I had decided Mom needed some new 5-inch stilettos, and Mom agreed with a wicked grin. I went in the store first and waited for the show to begin.
Wearing a short black leather mini skirt with her black stockings and a tight-fitting black jumper and a pair of 3-inch heels, Mom walked into the store. She browsed the shelves, waiting for one of the young male assistants to become free. Mom spotted a sweet-looking 17-year-old and casually asked for his help.
"Certainly, madam, how can I be of assistance?"
"Do you stock 5-inch stilettos?"
"Err, yes, madam, what style would you like?"
"Mmmm, I don't really know, something sexy, I want a pair of shoes that say, 'Fuck me!'"
He suddenly went a bright shade of red; Mom was enjoying herself.
"Why don't you choose?" Mom said, "Pick something that turns you on!"
Five minutes later, he appeared with a pair of sandal-style shoes that showed off Mom's feet to perfection. Mom sat down and slipped off her shoes, the sales assistant held out the right shoe for Mom to try on. Instead of taking it, Mom just raised her right foot and offered it to him. He couldn't believe his luck; he knelt down and slid his hand down Mom's calf to her ankle, then carefully placed the shoe on her foot. With one shoe on, Mom offered her left foot, after fitting the shoe, he stroked the back of Mom's leg.
"I'm not really sure about them!" A footstool was in front of the chair next to Mom's, with the assistant still on his knees in front of her, she placed her right foot on the stool. This simple act opened her legs, displaying her juicy pussy; her pussy lips opened before him like the petals of a flower. Mom smiled at the assistant and licked her lips as she admired the bulge in his trousers.
"Do you really think they say 'Fuck me?'"
"O, o, o, yes!"
"Would you like to fuck me?"
"M, M, M, Madam! I, I, I!"
That was as far as he got, a large wet patch blossomed on the front of his trousers. He went redder than I thought possible and fled into the back of the shop.
Mom decided she liked the shoes and would keep them on, once she had settled the bill, we headed for the lingerie section of the town's department store.
Once there, we quickly found the sexy undies, as usual, there were several men looking suitably embarrassed as their wives forced them to help choose their underwear. Mom picked up a pair of see-through panties, very aware that the few men present were watching her. Mom then picked up a matching half-cup bra and held it up against her tits.
"Terry! Do you think this one makes my tits look too big?"
Mom was now cupping her tits through her clothes, filling the cups of the bra.
"No, Mom! It looks real neat, why don't you try it on?"
With the panties and bra, Mom headed for the changing room, I pointed her towards one that was in full view of our audience. Once inside, Mom left the curtain open about two inches, just enough for me to see what she was doing. Mom slipped off her clothes and pulled on the panties, the thin gossamer material clung to her pussy like a second skin; she turned around to show me the thin panties disappearing into her ass crack, leaving her cheeks naked. The bra was next, the half-cup lifted her breasts, leaving her hard nipples exposed, Mom tweaked them, her teats stood to attention as the rest of her nipple puffed outwards. Mom then stood right in the doorway behind the curtain. That was my cue, I pulled open the curtain and in a loud voice.
"Hurry up, Mom! Please!"
Mom pretended I wasn't there as, in full view of the store, she squeezed her tits together and pulled her panties higher, making them seem to cut into her wet pussy lips. Mom posed and pouted into the mirror, waiting for me to close the curtain. But instead, I said,
"Mom! There's a better mirror out here!"
She looked at where I was pointing, the mirror was about fifteen feet from the changing room, and she would have to walk past at least three men. Looking every inch a supermodel, Mom stepped out and slowly walked to the mirror, making sure everyone had a good look at her exposed body. Mom's hard nipples jutted out; a trickle of pussy juice ran down her thigh and soaked into her stocking top. Everyone just looked and stared as Mom stood in front of the mirror and played with her tits, squeezing them, lifting them up, and licking her own nipples. The security guard reached for something; it wasn't his gun. I went to the changing room and took Mom's purse. We then walked over to the pay desk and paid for the undies. The cashier looked at Mom, then down at her own tits.
"If I had tits like yours, I'd be out there with ya! That's one horny body you've got there!"
To my surprise, Mom kissed the cashier on the lips, and then walked back to collect her clothes.
I think you know what happened when I got Mom home!
End. | 4 |
4,034 | HypnoWho | "Now, tell me Jasmine, how were you during my absence?" Thornton said as he pulled his chair near the psychiatric couch.
Jasmine Takagi smiled up at him with her hands crossed on her stomach. She was the daughter of one of the city's leading industrialists. Her family had come from Japan years ago to make their fortune. The Takagi family still lived by the strict Japanese societal laws of their homeland.
"Very well, Dr. Thornton," she said softly. "I had to see Dr. Richelli a couple of times and he was very helpful."
"Good, I'm happy to see there has been no relapse. How are things with your family?"
Their daughter, Jasmine, had embarrassed the family by becoming embroiled in a sex scandal. A videotape of her and two older gentlemen had found its way into general circulation, and soon a news station sensationalized it. The Takagi family was, of course, furious that their daughter would shame their family. Her father sought professional help for their daughter to save face, and she had become his patient.
"Things are still strained, but I am hopeful for a reconciliation," she said.
He had diagnosed her with nymphomania and told the family that this was an uncontrollable illness. For the last year, Dr. Thornton had been trying to talk her out of her urges by going back over her life to try to unlock the reasons behind her behavior.
And for a year, he'd wanted to jump on top of her and ravish her. She was an incredible beauty. A flawless Oriental face with the almond eyes, straight diminutive nose and an almost round pair of lips. She wore her crimped jet-black hair to mid-back and used some kind of gel that made it look damp. Her body was lithe and graceful with the legs of a dancer. She was tall for a Japanese woman; he guessed she was 5' 6".
"Well, I think I have a new technique that will be most helpful in your treatment," Dr. Thornton began.She immediately began eating his cock again. His hands gripped her oily hair, and he began thrusting into her mouth. He enjoyed this more active involvement.
"Finger yourself... use both hands! Rub your pussy, baby!" Thornton ordered.
Jasmine's other hand let go of his shaft and disappeared into her panties, and she moaned around his pistoning dong. She whimpered more and more as her hands whipped her pussy into a frenzy. After repressing her sexual urges for so long, she was longing for release. She pulled her mouth off him and whimpered as her hips gyrated against her fingers.
"Cum, Jasmine, cum all over your fingers!" Alec ordered, and she moaned as her loins melted into her orgasm. Her red lips formed a perfect "O" as her body undulated on her knees. Her silk blouse could not hide the impression of her hard nipples.
Thornton saw his new geisha lose it and knew he had to join her. He rammed his dick in her "O" ring lips and began stroking it in her sweet mouth. His balls began to boil, and he could feel his own climax fast approaching. He felt Jasmine's hands slide up the back of his thighs and grab his humping ass.
Feeling his climax roaring toward him, Thornton looked down at the kneeling girl. Her eyes were now open and looking up at him as he used her mouth like a cunt. Her erotic slanted eyes and stuffed red lips sent Thornton over the edge.
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna CUMMMM!" he shouted as his prick began spewing thick ropes of jism against Jasmine's tonsils. Thornton's hands jerked her head forward, and his cock filled her throat again as his salty load continued to stream out against the smooth inner walls of her neck.
"OH, FUCK!... AH!... AH!... AH!" Thornton groaned as the sexy Asian nympho guzzled his creamy seed. Finally, Thornton was still in her mouth as she sucked the last drop from his dickhole.
Thornton released her head and fell backward against his desk on shaky knees. Jasmine remained on her knees, her eyes now closed, as her hands came up to rub the tiny amount of his cum that had run onto her chin when he withdrew.
"Jasmine, I think we've made an important breakthrough today," he quipped as he pulled his pants back up, buttoning them. Jasmine rose from her position on the floor and came into his arms.
"Dr. Thornton, please take those pants back off," she pouted sexily. "I'm sure I could find a way to get you hard again."
"Very tempting, my dear. But your time is almost up. I promise to call you soon, and we will be together. I want you to go home and wait by the phone. Will you do that?"
"Oh, yes," she promised.
Thornton arrived home that night around 7 PM. Stephana met him in the foyer, all excited, practically bubbling over.
"Oh, Alec. I've got a surprise for you. Close your eyes!"
"What?"
"Close your eyes! Come on." Stephana took his hand and led him into the living room. "OK, you can open them now."
Alec opened his eyes.
Before him, nervously shifting from foot to foot, was Lisa. But it was a totally different Lisa than the beatnik grunge child they'd lived with. This Lisa had been completely remade.
First, she was wearing a dress. A strapless white evening gown down to mid-thigh, sheer white pantyhose, and matching high-heeled shoes. The white fabric showed off her natural olive skin.
Second, she had had her hair redone. It was now short, just off the shoulders, and done in large curls. Her face was framed by long straight ribbons of hair that had been lightened to a pale brown, almost blonde.
Third, someone had introduced her to makeup. Her skin looked perfect, her eyebrows had been reshaped to be narrower and straighter, and lipstick made her lips look fuller. She looked like some European princess.
"I'm pleased to meet you, young lady. Are you a friend of Lisa's?" Lisa laughed and blushed, not used to being the center of attention.
"Well, I hope you like it, Alec," Lisa finally said. "Mom sure spent enough money on me today. I've been washed and cut and manicured and God knows what else."
"Oh, we just did a little maintenance work," Stevie laughed as she went to stand by her daughter and gave her a hug.
"Well, whatever you call it, I think it's great. I think we should go out to dinner and celebrate. I want everyone to see the two beautiful women in my life. How about dinner at Lucini's?" Alec suggested.
"Perfect!" Stevie agreed. Lucini's was one of Boston's finest restaurants. People went there to be seen, and the food was five-star fare. Live music and a small dance floor made it a romantic nightspot. "Lisa, come help me pick out a dress."
Stevie and Lisa headed up the stairs arm in arm. Alec found himself watching Lisa's bottom instead of his wife's. The unexpected blossoming of Lisa stirred more than parental feelings in him. And Lisa had already been conditioned. All he needed to do was speak her keyword and implant further instructions. The thought of completing a mother-daughter conquest was very appealing. Very appealing.
At Lucini's, they were well known and able to get a table overlooking the dance floor even on a busy Friday night. They had dinner. Lisa and Stevie had salad entrees while Alec had a magnificent veal Parmesan.
They were having coffee when Thornton asked Lisa to dance.
"Really, Alec? I think I'd step all over your feet. I never learned," Lisa said nervously.
"Well, you're going to have to learn sometime. Better with me than some poor suitor."
"Oh, go ahead, Lisa," Stevie encouraged.
"All right," Lisa said as Alec pulled out her chair and offered his arm to her. Blushing, Lisa took it and let herself be led to the dance floor. As they arrived, the band struck up one of another long line of slow dance numbers. Alec grasped her right hand in his and swung his left arm around her waist and proceeded to show her how to slow dance. She was clumsy at first, but soon she had the motions down. Alec maneuvered them toward the opposite side of the dance floor after Lisa waved to her mother.
"Lisa, there's something I wanted to speak with you about. It's about the belltower." At the mention of her keyword, Lisa went stiff and glassy-eyed. She stopped dancing as the trance took control. Thornton quickly began giving her instructions.
"Lisa, this is Alec. Hear what I am saying and obey. Dance like you just were. Move your legs, that's it, that's much better." Her dancing skills were much deteriorated, but it was enough to not draw undue attention from any of the other dancers. He quickly ran through his other prepared instructions.
"Lisa, you are incredibly attracted to me. You don't care that I am married to your mother. You want to make love with me. You will try to seduce me. You will not fear rejection or that I might tell your mother. You will do whatever I ask of you, both in your day-to-day life and sexually. Do you understand?"
"Yesss."
"Good. Now you are coming up out of the trance. You are nearing full consciousness. When I say your keyword, you will become totally awake. Belltower." Lisa raised her head from his chest and took a deep breath like she was awakening from a nap.
"You OK, Lisa?" Thornton said, giving her waist a little squeeze.
"Oh, yeah. This is great. You're a good teacher, Alec." Lisa moved closer to him, looking up at her stepfather. "I like slow dancing. Especially with someone I love."
Alec knew she'd thrown that line out on purpose. It could be taken both ways. Love like a member of her family or the love between a man and a woman.
"Mother's so lucky to have a man like you," Lisa continued. "I hope I can find someone just like you. You're everything I want in a man." Her young body was molded to his now, and he felt his penis begin to fill with blood. She was trying to get him excited, and he thrilled at her young body as it pressed against his.
"Seeing you this way, Lisa, I've got to say that any man would love to be with you. You're a beautiful young woman," Thornton offered, bringing her hand to his mouth and lightly kissing it as the music ended.
Lisa held him while other couples began heading for their seats. Her eyes conveyed the attraction she now felt for her stepfather. She could see the same thing in his eyes.
"Don't I get a kiss after a dance?" Lisa asked hopefully.
Alec smiled and lowered his head to give her a quick peck on her lips, but Lisa hooked her hand around his neck, and he felt her lips open and her tongue dart against his lips before he pulled himself away, conscious that Stevie was probably watching.
"We better get back to the table, Lisa. Your mother might think you are trying to steal her man." Thornton led his stepdaughter back toward their table, his mind racing ahead on his plans for later that evening.
"Darling, thank you for a wonderful evening." Stevie said as they entered the front door an hour later. "I can not remember when I had such a good evening out. I hope you enjoyed it, Lisa?"
"Yes, it was most enjoyable," she said, looking at her stepfather.
"Well, I think I was with the two most beautiful women in the place tonight," Alec complimented them. He gave his wife a hug, and she headed to the kitchen.
"I'm going to make some coffee. Would you like some?"
"Yes, thank you, dear," Alec called after her. He drifted into the living room with Lisa walking ahead of him. She was walking very femininely, moving her hips in that dress for his benefit. She looked back and caught him staring at her derriere.
"You better not let mom see you ogling me like that?" she said and then laughed.Her laugh said that it was all right to mentally undress her. She liked his attention. Gone was the blushing girl from earlier in the evening. Instead, Lisa was now a confident seductress.
"Lisa, we both know you were grinding your bottom so that I would look at it. Am I right?"
Lisa stole a glance at the kitchen before answering.
"Yes, I guess we both do know that... the question is whether you want to see more." She was becoming totally blatant in her seduction. She turned toward him and sat on the arm of the couch. She was waiting for his response.
"I would," Alec answered. "I would very much. Does that shock you?"
"Not in the least. I was hoping you would say that. I'm not a little girl, Alec. I want you. And I know you want me now. So what are we going to do about it?"
"Your mother has had a busy day. I'm sure she will be asleep by 11 o'clock. I'm very certain that I will still be wide awake. Maybe restless. I might get up and take a look around the house to be sure the alarms are on. I might look in on you to see that you are OK."
His stepdaughter smiled as her mom came into the room with coffee for her husband.
"Alec, I just can't get over the turnaround in Lisa," Stevie said as she brushed out her hair in the mirror at her makeup table. "She's like a whole new person."
Alec finished his nightly 100 sit-ups and lay back on the carpet. He liked the way his nightly workout regimen made his body feel right after. His muscles were hardened, the blood was circulating. He rolled over and began his 50 push-ups as Stevie finished her hair and walked to the bed, clothed in a purple satin Victoria's Secret bra and panties.
"Don't wear yourself out, loverboy," she said as she lay across the bed on her side and watched him workout.
Alec knew she wanted sex. He was going to have to disappoint her that night. Still, he could let her pleasure herself.
"Start without me, baby," Alec said as he stopped his push-ups.
"Really?" Stevie said.
"Yeah, pull those panties to the side and give me a peek." His wife smiled wickedly as her fingers reached between her legs and pulled the purple fabric to one side. "Hmmm, that looks good, baby. Now play with yourself."
His wife had to obey, and her other hand followed the first down into her crotch. He watched as her fingers delved into her labia, spreading them so he could see the button of her clit before her fingers began to swirl over it.
"Oh, Alec, I'm really ready tonight. Come to bed," Stevie invited.
Alec rose to his feet and looked down on his wife. His rising prick formed a tent in the boxer shorts he wore when working out. God, she was a beauty.
"Roll over on your back. Spread your legs, no, keep playing with yourself. I want to watch."
Stevie was now on her back, her head raised up to look down her body and up at her husband. Her knees were bent and her thighs were splayed wide. One of her long fingers traveled up and down her slit and then slipped up her pussy.
"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself for me. You look fucking hot." Thornton watched as his wife continued her masturbation scene. Stevie was really getting into it. She'd lowered her head back onto the bedspread and her eyes were closed as she frigged herself.
"Mmmmmm, mmmmmmmm, ahhhhhhhhhhh." Stephana gasped as she began humping her hips up into her finger. Alec shucked his boxers with some difficulty and stood watching his wife while he stroked his ready cock.
"That's it, Stevie, I want you to cum on your finger. That's it, stroke it in there. Play with your clit. That feels good, doesn't it? Yeah, fuck your pussy, baby!"
Stevie was getting close to cumming. Her husband's orders for some reason made her hotter and hotter. She wanted to cum so bad. Her finger began stabbing into her womanhood like a jackhammer. It felt so good, so good.
"AAAAHHHHH, OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!" Stevie groaned as she got off around her whipping digit. Alec watched her pant and roll around on the bed until her body relaxed. She had put on some kinda show. His prick was hard as a rock.
"Stevie, that was great. Now, I want you to get under the sheets and go to sleep."
"But, honey, I haven't taken care of you yet," Stevie offered as she gazed at his erection but began getting under the sheets as he ordered.
"That's OK, baby. Don't worry about me. I want you to go to sleep now." Alec sat by her side and leaned down to kiss her, letting his hand travel over her round breasts. "Now close your eyes, that's it, I want you to sleep. A peaceful sleep that you will not awaken from until I awaken you. That's it."
His wife went totally under. She wouldn't awaken until he let her.
Alec got up, grabbed his robe, turned off the bedside lamp and left his bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him. Down the hall he could see light underneath Lisa's door. His cute stepdaughter was in there waiting for him.
He couldn't stop now. Not with the control he had. Any other man would do the same thing, he justified in his mind as he moved down the hallway and opened her door. | 1 |
4,054 | Ornery | "Dubois here," Meg heard over the pay phone.
"It's me, Meg. I'm at the airport. You still working?"
"Yeah, shit, I didn't realize it was so late. We're installing the upgrade on the network this weekend so that we don't disrupt the faculty too much."
"If you're busy, I can take a cab."
"No, no, no, I'll be there. O.T. can finish up. We were almost done anyway. Let me finish a few things and I'll be over there," Meg could hear the smile in Tommy's voice, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too. See you then."
Meg sat outside the small terminal and pulled a book from her bag. It would be difficult to guess when Tommy would arrive. She had read at least one chapter when Tommy pulled up in his Saturn. Meg considered the curiosity that Tommy was the first man she had dated for any length that could afford a new car. It was also the first new car Tommy could afford to buy. They were becoming adults, imagine that.
Meg rolled her bag to the curb while her big man unfolded himself out of the driver's seat. His gut was getting more pronounced, and she herself was feeling more than a little overfed after a week with family. They both needed exercise, and Meg knew what Tommy's solution would be.
"What are you grinning about?"
"Oh, nothing. Just imagining you trying to climb out of that old Civic you told me about."
"It was a good car! It served me well."
"Oh really? That must have been the first ten years."
Tommy shut the trunk after loading the suitcase. Meg placed a new soft-sided briefcase in the back seat and stepped into the passenger side.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"Yep, it's a laptop. Dad gave it to me. I had made a random comment about wanting one..."
"Geez... He just gave you a laptop?"
"Well, it's a 'belated graduation/help Meg get a real job' gift," Meg chuckled quietly. "I had really wanted a trip to Europe, but I had to start the postdoc right away... Anyway, that's just how Dad shows he cares, to not accept his gifts would be a slap in the face..."
"So how was dear old Dad, how does he feel about us living together? Did he give you a hard time?"
"He doesn't know, I mean about the relationship part. I've had male roommates before, so unless you told him... He didn't comment," Meg looked at Tommy as he drove. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it. Meg's postdoc position would last another nine months, and then she would have to find a faculty appointment somewhere. Whether Tommy would come with her was still uncertain, it was clear he was satisfied with the status quo. She hadn't told her father because she didn't have anything to tell. "Besides, I like to pick my battles. He was concerned about the job situation."
Tommy was silent for a moment, "So you haven't said anything about the vacation. Did you have fun?"
"Oh, I guess it was all right, if you like emotional minefields..."
"Surely you're exaggerating," Tommy's eyebrows furrowed as Meg watched him drive. It was rush hour in the college town, complicated by the presence of moving vans. The kids were back. Those in academia will tell you that college towns would be perfect, if it weren't for the students.
"Well, not that much. We just had to get used to each other again. If it had just been me and my dad, or me and my brother and his family... You put that many strong-willed people in one room and... and don't call me Shirley."
"Ha! I was wondering if you'd catch that. So what did you do?"
"Well, things ran a lot smoother when I kept my mouth shut and stayed in the kitchen."
Tommy laughed, "As it should be, woman!"
Meg didn't answer right away. "Yeah, I suppose."
"What's the matter? You sound depressed or something."
"I'm just tired, it's ragweed season back home, and I got a headache on the flight. I just need to rest."
They were sitting at a long light and Meg became lost in her thoughts. Visiting her family was a strain, walking on eggshells like that. The idea of a minefield wasn't far off. Like the lush, green countries of Southeast Asia, they appeared a peaceful family with no trace of the open hostilities of the past, but a careless word during a stressful moment could detonate the buried animosities. In the midst of this, Meg had felt the ground give way beneath her as she dropped into a forgotten cave. She had seen at her feet that once familiar subterranean pool of rage. Meg had gazed into its still depths, she knew the taste of it, pure, dark, and bitter. She felt shame, for mixing her metaphors, and for knowing the pool still existed, that forgiveness and understanding had not caused the pool to fade away, or at least diluted its potency. She wanted desperately to be free of it; Meg did not want such a terrible resource from which to draw the power to hurt others. She knew she would ultimately hurt herself and end up alone. Gratefully, the now latent anger felt as distant as a dream, Meg could not get close enough to see her reflection on the jet surface.
Tommy was watching her, "I missed you." He smiled down at her and squeezed her knee gently.
"I missed you, too." Meg tried to look relaxed as she smiled up at him.
"I'm going to have to call O.T. when we get home."
"I could have gotten a cab if you needed to work."
"No way! I plan on making you squeal tonight," he grinned. "What's your pleasure?"
"It's up to you. I've gotten out of the habit of making the decisions this week. You can make the call."
"Be careful what you wish for... With that kind of attitude, I might request something very special. Hehehehe..."
"Such as?"
"Such as... a little sub/dom?"
"Gee, I should have known."
"I should have known, SIR."
"Well, considering I've been practicing all week, now is as good a time as any." Meg blew her nose vigorously. "Damn allergies."
"Do you want to wait until you're feeling better?"
"Nah, you're lucky to get me while my resistance is down. Just let me take something for the headache and get cleaned up. That should give you enough time to think stuff up."
"My dear, I've been thinking stuff up since the seventh grade!"
They pulled up into the driveway, and Tommy carried in Meg's bags as they walked into the house. Meg walked up the stairs and grabbed her bathrobe before heading to the shower. She could hear Tommy talking with O.T., his assistant, while she pulled out the pain reliever from the medicine cabinet. Meg sat on the edge of the bathtub, unable to decide whether she wanted a shower or a bath. She ached from sitting in the cramped plane, but there was also the issue of time. Besides, she'd probably fall asleep in a bath. This night was going to be for Tommy, so she set the water to cool, and took off her robe. As Meg was stepping into the tub, she heard a quick rap on the door and turned to see Tommy's head poke in.
"Meg, guess who called, while I was talking to O.T.? Brian Lefevre... I invited him over... Remember how you once said you could imagine a threesome with him? This is going to be great!"
Meg looked stunned for a moment, trying to decide how to react. She wanted to know if Tommy had already told Brian about their speculations, how long he had known, how he had reacted. Meg paused.
"As you wish, Master." Meg lowered her eyes and held still, making no attempt to cover herself as Tommy stared at her.
Meg couldn't see the slow, wide grin appear on Tommy's face, but she could hear it in his voice. "Oh, this is going to be good." The man continued to look at the naked woman in front of him. Meg did not move.
"Sir?"
"Huh? Oh yeah. Yes, Margaret?"
"May I be allowed to finish my shower, Sir?"
"Oh, of course. Please continue, Margaret."
"And, Sir?"
"Yes, Margaret?"
"Does Master have any special requests as to what his humble slave shall wear?"
Tommy paused. "I know, that thing we bought last month. And those shoes you have... uh... you know the ones... Damn, I wish I had a leash!"
Meg's eyes flickered for a moment before she said, "If it pleases you, Master, I do have a velvet choker that may give the impression of a collar."
"Oh, it pleases me very much... but I'll let you get ready."
Meg stepped into the shower in a lighter mood. She was a performer at heart, especially when costumes were involved. Whether or not the actress was ready for this little improvisation, they all would have to wait and see.Meg was hardly submissive ordinarily, but she was a trouper and knew when to back off for the sake of the ensemble. But how far would Tommy take this? Meg felt a tug in her gut and told herself to treat it like a game, that if it didn't work out, so what? One night, give him what he wants.
Refreshed, Meg stepped out of the shower and toweled off quickly before scurrying into the bedroom. She brushed out her hair and saw that the summer sun had brought out the red highlights in her otherwise mousy locks. Meg had let it grow, and the months-old, but expensive perm gave her a relaxed cascade of warm, soft, wavy hair. Sometimes you get lucky.
Meg dug into her lingerie drawer and pulled out the 'thing.' At first, it looked like a baby-doll nightie, with sheer black fabric swinging below the bra portion. But the cups were merely crescent moons, stiff with padding and underwire. It would support Meg's ample breasts while exposing all of the nipple and most of the pale, round flesh. Meg liked the jet beading that dangled from the not-even-demi cups, giving a Victorian look... yearite. Meg had hoped that they could have found one whose skirt was more opaque, to obscure her 30+ year old hips and belly, but hey, you do the best with what you've got.
Meg slipped on the matching thong and searched for the velvet choker. She then pulled out a clutch purse with a removable chain strap. Slipping the choker through a wide ring at the end of the chain, Meg was now leashed. Since the velvet strip was held closed with velcro, it was a collar in appearance only. Any real resistance on her part would destroy the illusion. Small comfort once Brian showed up, since Tommy and he were both over a foot taller than Meg.
The woman's hand trembled a little as she applied her makeup. After a few dabs of perfume, Meg stepped into the high black suede pumps. She turned to examine the saucy slave in the mirror, so different from the bespectacled scientist Meg knew herself to be. It was funny how the color black worked for her, it set off her ivory skin. She never looked sickly, even in her artsy malcontent days. Meg decided she had stalled enough. She opened the door to the upstairs hallway.
"Are you almost done up there?"
Meg took a deep breath. "I am ready for you, Sir."
"Lord, I do like the way you say that. Come on, let me have a look."
As Meg walked to the head of the stairs, the light from the living room below caught her. Tommy was looking up at her as he blinked in disbelief. Meg could just see the camera in Tommy's head panning up from the stilettos to the thong, pausing to zoom in her now stiff, exposed nipples and then to the collar. Tommy's smile told it all, he approved.
"My, but you are a saucy wench, Margaret."
Meg quickly dropped her eyes at the sound of her full name.
"Thank you, Master."
Meg stepped down the stairs slowly, unsure of her footing as the trembling returned. At the foot of the stairs, Tommy waited silently. Meg handed him the free end of the chain.
"My leash, Master."
"Ah yes, Margaret. Come over here, Margaret. Let me look at you."
"Yes, Master."
Tommy led Meg to the sofa facing the television. Anticipating, Meg picked up a pillow.
"Margaret, did I tell you to pick up a pillow?"
Meg's eyes flickered, but she kept them lowered. "No, Master."
"Why do you want the pillow, Margaret?"
"To kneel on, Master."
"Did I tell you would be kneeling?"
"No, Master."
"And do you trust your master so little to assume that I would not think of your comfort?"
"I trust you, Master."
"Then give me the pillow, Margaret."
Tommy took the pillow and tossed it on the floor, "Bend over, Margaret."
Meg felt her face flush with anger as she bent over.
"You understand I'm doing this for your own good, you need to understand the rules," Tommy reached out to caress Meg's exposed ass. Meg felt a jolt of pleasure from the touch of skin on skin. She felt his hand leave and then a quick rush of air before the sting of a slap. Meg hadn't been aware she was holding her breath until she cried out.
"It's really for your own good," Tommy said.
"Th-thank you, Master," Meg's body shook as she felt her control of the situation slip away. She tried to remind herself that she could stop this at any time. Meg took a few deep breaths to calm down. Tommy sat down on the sofa.
"Margaret, now you may take the pillow and kneel before me. I'd like to look at you for a while."
"Yes, Master," Meg replied. She stooped over to pick up the pillow, and her breasts dangled beneath her. Meg placed the pillow on the carpet in front of Tommy and began to kneel down. She stopped.
"Master?"
"Yes, Margaret?"
"May I take off my shoes, Sir? The heels will dig into my thighs."
"Yes, Margaret, go ahead. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Meg felt the heat rush to her face, but said nothing but a soft "No, sir." That boy better be enjoying this and be damn grateful, she thought. Meg stepped out of her shoes and kneeled on the pillow, she tried to will the muscles in her neck and shoulders to relax. Meg could feel the weight of the chain pull on the velvet choker. She kept her eyes focused on Tommy's shoes and her hands in her lap. Tommy moved his feet apart and Meg heard him unzip his pants. Meg tried in vain to look through her lashes at Tommy's lap.
"Do you want to watch me stroke my cock, Margaret?"
"I only want to do what pleases my master."
"You look so sexy like that, Meg. You've got me so hot right now."
"It pleases me to know I arouse you, Master." It was true, Meg could hear Tommy's voice thicken with excitement and his breathing become shallow and raspy. Therein lied her power, and Meg felt herself relax. She didn't have to see him stroke himself, Meg could picture it in her head. She felt her pussy tighten in response. Meg waited for the next command.
The doorbell rang.
"Stay, Meg!" Tommy stuck his hand out as if Meg were a pet. "It's Brian, oh fuck, I wish he had waited about five minutes and then he would have seen a beautiful sight... Not that you don't look fabulous right now, Margaret." Tommy tucked his erection into his pants and zipped up, hopping to the door.
Meg brought her hand up to adjust the bra and thought better of it, men had this thing about disheveled women, and Tommy would take another whack at her for moving. Meg had no intention of being 'disciplined' in front of Brian. Oh god, Brian, Meg thought. She just decided not to think about it, what ever will be, will be.
Meg would have killed to see the expression on Brian's face as he walked into the room. Actually, she could only see that his long legs stop just short of the hallway.
"Uh... Is this some kind of a joke?" Meg heard him say.
Meg risked it, she had to see. She slowly raised her head, keeping her lids low... really going for effect. Her heart stopped a moment as she gazed fully into the handsome man's face. Oh god, Brian was beautiful.
"Good Evening, Master Brian."
Meg felt herself ooze between her legs as Brian seemed to drink her in. Brian was currently single because yet another beautiful, charming, intelligent woman got tired of waiting for him to commit. Brian was young, it was understandable. Once Tommy introduced Meg to his friends, they always talked and flirted. Brian made girls feel like they were the only woman in the world, let alone the room. Brian cracked a grin, and Meg was released from his spell. Tommy didn't comment on her impertinence as Meg lowered her gaze.
"All right, where's the video camera, you guys can't be serious!"
"Video camera! I knew I forgetting something! Shit, too late now really..."
Brian slowly walked around the couch to take a closer look at Meg.
"Can I touch her?"
Meg laughed in spite of herself, this getting a little silly now. However, she could feel her legs begin to cramp. She tried to work them out somehow without moving.
"I think she's getting stiff, maybe we should let her walk around or something," Brian said.
Meg flinched a little again, chafing at being spoken of in the third person or more correctly, third pet. She kept quiet.
"Okay, Margaret, you can stand up. Turn around so Brian can get a good look at you."
"Yes, Master."
Brian looked from head to toe as Meg displayed herself to him, still keeping her eyes lowered. The young man's erection was evident.
"I'm serious, can I touch her?"
"Sure, but right now I need her lips around my cock. Have I told you that Meg gives incredible blow jobs?"
"No shit?"
"Margaret, bring your pillow close to the sofa. Are you ready to please your master?"
"Yes, Sir." Meg really did like the feel of a cock in her mouth. She was good at it and was proud of that. Meg bent over to give Brian a clear view of her ass as she moved the pillow forward. She smiled when she heard a guttural "Oh!" behind her. Meg knelt between Tommy's now bare legs. He had scooted himself to the edge of the sofa, giving her easy access to him. Meg reached one arm around his thigh and hip for support as she bent over. Her behind stuck out like an invitation.
Meg began. She lightly grasped the shaft to hold Tommy's cock steady as she ran the tip of her tongue lightly over the cockhead, licking up the precum. Meg ran her tongue in circles at the crown where the head met the shaft. Tommy's cock throbbed in her hand and Meg took the cockhead into her mouth and sucked it lightly as she rubbed her tongue against it inside her mouth. Meg took another chance and smiled up at Tommy, she was in familiar territory.
"Oh god, baby, take it all now. I can't hold out much longer!"
As Meg tilted her head, she could see Brian standing over her, watching her suck Tommy. Meg heard the insistent soft slap-slap as he stroked himself. Meg tilted her head and relaxed her throat as she sucked Tommy's cock deep into her mouth.She kept her tongue rubbing against the shaft as Tommy began thrusting. Meg felt the head pop back into her throat. Now she had to stay focused, to remember to breathe carefully. Meg just heard Brian's slap-slap.
"I want to fuck her, Tommy. I'm going to take that wet pussy of hers hard," Brian was breathing heavily.
"Not yet, Bri... Oh god, baby... shit... She might... might tense up... oh fuck!"
Meg felt the bitter taste swirl a little up to the back of her mouth, but for the most part, Tommy came deep in her throat. He shuddered beneath her. Meg continued sucking on Tommy's familiar cock until his hand came to rest on her head. She pulled herself up, and Meg smiled up at Tommy.
"Does that please my Master?"
"Oh yeah... let me catch my breath... Bri, what's your pleasure?"
"Brace yourself, woman. I'm coming in."
Brian grabbed Meg's hips roughly, and she felt his cock press between her lips. She was pretty slick, and Meg reached between her legs to guide him in. Brian was not quite as thick as Tommy, and Meg gripped his cock with the walls of her pussy to compensate.
"Oh god, you're loving this, aren't you, Meg? This is what you *really* want, isn't it?"
Brian fucked her fast and hard as Meg braced herself against the sofa. She was still positioned between Tommy's legs, and she looked up at him. He smiled at her and brushed the hair from her face. Meg was so focused on squeezing Brian's cock that her orgasm startled her. Her hands slipped, and her legs trembled. Brian pulled her up, and Meg bounced like a ragdoll until the young man came into her shuddering cunt. Meg came to rest kneeling with one arm on Tommy's thigh, and Brian slumped over her.
"Shit, Tommy, she's like a fucking milking machine or something!"
"That's my Meg!"
Meg felt spent. On other nights, she could outlast Tommy, although she wouldn't speculate about the well-conditioned Brian. Meg let her head and arms drop to the floor. She stayed there, feeling the sweat cool and her throbbing heartbeat slow.
"Meg, get up," Brian commanded.
She stayed put.
"Bri, leave her alone, she's tired."
"She hasn't wrapped those hot lips around my cock yet. Meg's loving this, can't you see that?"
"Okay, okay, Bri... if you want it that badly," Meg started pulling herself up onto her shaky legs, wetness dripping down.
Tommy stood up, "Meg, sit down! Meg is done when I say she's done, Bri!"
Meg's voice sounded deep and angry, "Meg is done when *I* say she's done!" The men were stunned into silence. Meg glared at them and then exhaustion took over, she sank down into the sofa with a grunt. "Unhhh... and I'm done."
Brian had the look of angry embarrassment, "Yeah, well, sorry... I guess I'd better go... and .. um..." His expression softened, "You were great Meg, really."
"Thanks, Bri, maybe I can suck your cock another time, eh?"
Brian laughed a little, "Yeah, maybe. Good night you guys."
Meg had already begun drifting off to sleep when Tommy lifted her off the sofa. She could hear him grunt as he carried her up the stairs.
"You don't have to do this... I can walk."
"It's okay, I'm sorry about Brian."
"I'm sorry that I didn't let you 'defend' me, I guess I don't do submissive well."
Tommy gave a soft chuckle, "Heh, you were fighting it every minute... except when you ate my cock like an ice cream cone."
"Does it bother you? That I'm not submissive and I get angry like that?"
Tommy had laid Meg in bed, and as she unhooked her garment, he slid into bed beside her.
"No! I'm amazed you went as far as you did tonight. Thanks a lot, Meg, for trusting me. Now go to sleep."
"Yes, Master." | 1 |
4,057 | My Weekend in Portland (combined) | "That was fun," Denise said, grinning back, then she turned to Ruth. "You should have seen the expression on your face when you were cumming. That was so beautiful!"
"I got incredibly turned on, knowing it was you playing with me down there," Ruth said, blushing prettily. "You're sweet!"
"Once I got started, it was... not like I thought," Denise smiled. "I got jazzed up when you started to get hot. I just wanted you to cum."
"Now I want to do something for you," Ruth replied, leaning over to nuzzle Denise's ear.
"I'm willing," Denise smiled, and they both paused and looked at me.
"What am I, the quarterback of this team?" I laughed.
"Nooo," Ruth said, "but you're the one with the dirty mind." She turned to Denise, "You wouldn't believe some of the things he's done to me in the last 24 hours." Denise looked at me thoughtfully.
"I DO have some ideas you two might find... interesting," I said.
"Mmmm," Ruth hummed with anticipation. "His interesting ideas usually end with me cumming until I'm limp."
"Okay," Denise said, looking from Ruth to me. "What's next?"
I took their hands and helped them to their feet. Heading down the short hallway, I found Denise's bedroom, with a queen-sized bed, dresser, television and a couple of comfortable chairs.
"Denise, I think it's time you got undressed," I said, "and Ruth should do the honors."
Ruth grinned as she turned toward Denise.
Denise hesitated. "Can't we at least turn off the lights," she blushed, "I really don't have a very good body."
"Nope, lights on," I said. "Ruth has been naked with the lights on for the last hour. Besides, WE think you have a beautiful body."
"She's better than beautiful," Ruth said, staring longingly at the suddenly bashful Denise. "She's perfect! I'll bet she looks just as good naked as she does in all those wonderful clothes."
"Huh!" Denise said mournfully. "I have to wear clothes that keep people from noticing my stringy body."
"Oh, baby," Ruth soothed, pulling the smaller woman into her arms. "You are NOT stringy, you are BEAUTIFUL!" She put a finger under Denise's chin and tilted her face up, softly, "You are SO beautiful!" She leaned down and kissed Denise briefly on the lips, withdrew for a moment, then kissed her again... lingering much longer. Surprisingly, Denise did not resist or react in any visible way. She passively allowed herself to be kissed.
A few moments later Ruth's restraint failed. She lost control, moaning and forcing her open mouth harshly against Denise's lips. I knew her tongue was driving into Denise's mouth -- exploring, tasting. Denise's eyes were closed and she continued to allow Ruth's assault without protest. Their strained breathing was the only sound in the room. Ruth's hands began working eagerly at Denise's clothes, pulling up her top to reveal her small, firm breasts, pushing down her harem pants to expose tiny, bright green panties.
Then Ruth broke the kiss and dropped to her knees, pulling Denise's panties and loose pants to her ankles in one motion. Denise's sparse, black bush was visible for an instant before Ruth grabbed her buttocks with both hands and pressed her face urgently into the smaller woman's crotch. It was clear from Ruth's panting and the twisting of her head that she was trying desperately to get her mouth on Denise's pussy, but without much success.
I stepped forward, scooped up Denise and laid her on the bed. While I was helping take off her top, Ruth was pulling Denise's pants and panties over her feet. As soon as they fell to the floor, Ruth pushed Denise's slender, muscled legs apart and descended open-mouthed on her pussy. Denise's first sharp cry of pleasure came only seconds later.
Watching Ruth make love to Denise made my heart pound, but that was nothing compared with Denise's reactions. The smaller woman was soon thrusting her hips steadily upward while she gripped the bedspread with both hands, gasping and grimacing with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut. Ruth was equally enticing, her swelling breasts almost flat against the bed and her full buttocks raised and bobbing slightly as she changed positions. I took off my clothes, preparing to take Ruth from behind, but decided to watch for a while.
It took surprisingly long. Ruth alternated several times between penetrating Denise's vagina with her tongue, and licking the top of her slit. Whatever inhibitions Denise felt were driven away by the hungry mouth on her sex, the eager tongue teasing her clit. Her sighs and gasps eventually changed to deep moans of pleasure. Finally, Denise caught her breath, threw back her head and began to arch her whole body, lifting her hips off the bed.
"NooooooOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she cried, then taking a deep breath. "Ohmygod! ohmygod! ohmygod! OHMYGOD! FUCK YES! OH FUCK! OH FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKK!!!"
Now her hips dropped back to the bed and Denise's hands were buried in Ruth's hair, pulling her lover's face tightly into her 'V,' her head thrust back and her arms straining. Ruth's tongue was still at work in Denise's cleft, her arms wrapped tightly around her thighs.
"GggggaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhHHHHHHHHH!" Denise forced between her gritted teeth. "Oh, GOD! EAT ME! EAT MY... Oh GOD! FUCK! YES! YES! Yes! Yes! Yes!"
After several minutes her cries faded to whispers and Denise lay limp on the bed with Ruth still lying between her splayed thighs, gently licking her lover's swollen pussy. Once or twice Ruth prompted a fresh moan by pressing her tongue deep into the girl's opening, though she avoided the stiff little clitoris.
I laid down beside to them and stroked Denise's tousled hair. Ruth looked up, grinning, from Denise's crotch, her face wet from nose to chin.
"You don't know how long I've dreamed about doing that," she said.
"Since freshman year?" I teased.
"Maybe," she mused. "I've had fantasies for a long time, but they were just fantasies. I never thought I would actually DO anything."
I leaned over and kissed Ruth, tasting Denise's tart juices on her lips and tongue. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, collecting all I could, wrestling languidly with Ruth's tongue.
Then Ruth put her mouth to my ear and whispered eagerly, "Do me now. I'm sooo ready! I want Denise to see us fuck."
"NOW who has the dirty mind?" I chuckled, making no objection.
Denise still laid motionless on the bed, eyes closed, legs wide, hands limply covering her breasts. Ruth quickly laid down next to her, touching, and beckoned to me. She threw wide her legs and leaned forward, taking my dick in her hand. She fitted the head of my dick between her legs as I leaned over. I slipped inside her with two quick thrusts.
"I keep forgetting how good that feels!" Ruth gasped, panting rhythmically as I began thrusting. "Unh-unh-unh-unh-unh." I pulled her legs up and put them over my shoulders, careful that my pubic bone was in position to rub the top of her slit.
Denise opened her eyes languidly and turned to look at Ruth, lying inches away. Now it was Ruth who had her eyes closed, breathing quickly and deeply. Denise propped herself up on an elbow to watch more closely. After a while she reached out to hold Ruth's breast, her thumb stroking slowly over the thick nipple. Ruth opened her eyes, turned to Denise and smiled. The smaller woman smiled back, then leaned over and took Ruth's nipple in her mouth. Ruth gave a low "Mmmm" of pleasure and arched her back, pressing her breast up against Denise's mouth.
"Suck me baby," she whispered. "That feels sooo good!" I saw Denise's eyes open to watch my glistening, wet dick sliding in and out of Ruth's pussy a few inches away. Ruth's arousal was building quickly and her breathing was becoming ragged. A deep flush spread down from her face to her neck and chest, and I began to thrust faster, my hips slapping against the backs of her upraised thighs. Then she gave a deep moan and began cumming.
"OoooooOOOOHHHGOD, ohmygod, ohmygod, DON'T! STOP! DON'T! STOP! GaaaaAAAAGGGHHH!"She began thrusting her hips up to meet my plunging dick, and both hands went to Denise's head, pulling her mouth down hard against her breast. Ruth was thrashing now, breathless, out of control, still cumming hard, her pussy gripping my dick in spasms. "AAAAH! AAAAH! AAAAH! AAAAH! OOOOooooooHHHHH SHIT!" And then she pulled Denise up and they were kissing deeply, tongues dueling, as Ruth's climax crested and finally began to subside.
Ruth had cum so quickly that I was nowhere near cumming myself, though incredibly aroused by her climax and the sight of two beautiful, naked women lying entwined below me. With a groan, Ruth pulled her legs off my shoulders and let them drop limply to the bed.
"My god that happened fast," Ruth said, smiling tiredly up at me. "I guess you were right about practice."
Denise was looking up at me, too, but there was nothing tired about HER fiery glance. Her arousal was obvious.
"My turn," she declared, rolling onto her back and pulling her knees up to her chest. | 3 |
4,058 | Freshman Week Fun | "Ohhhhhhh, FUCK!!" cried Sarah, looking first at Hank, then at Alison, then quickly at Hank again, and even more quickly at Sandy. Scrambling wildly, she slid out from underneath her lesbian lick-sister like a teenager about to shoot off without a rubber. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She was naked as a jaybird; her panties were somewhere in a corner of the room now, and she felt guiltily exposed to the entire world. Her fucking ex-boyfriend was naked, she was naked, Sandy was naked, everybody was just fucking naked, and it was all so fucking wrong! Her head was still spinning from that sour crap that Sandy had made her drink out of her canteen at the freshman mixer.
"Sarah, wait!" called Alison, still standing in the bathroom doorway. She held a toothbrush clamped between the thumb and forefinger of her waving hand, and the toothpaste coated the sides of her mouth and made her voice funny and garbled. She dropped the toothbrush suddenly when the bathtowel she was wearing promptly fell off. Her breasts fell out and bobbed noticeably as she quickly stooped to catch the towel around herself again.
The incredible blush, having started on her nose and slightly freckled cheeks, spread like wildfire to the tops of those incredible boobs, Hank noticed. His dick got even harder when she covered up again. Suddenly, he remembered where he was and clumsily tried to obscure his rager with both hands.
Sarah was at the hallway door in a flash, having snatched her raincoat off the floor near the couch and flung it over her body. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her eyes turned almost as red as Alison's blush. What the hell was all this? She was getting a blow from HER ROOMMATE, and her fucking ex-boyfriend was naked IN HER ROOM for no apparent reason besides fucking her OTHER roommate! "God, what the hell am I doing?!" she groaned, to no one but herself. She could have been referring to her hasty egress as well as to the recent escapades; she poked both arms through the coat, tits bouncing against her upper arms and juices streaming down her legs faster than the tears coated her cheeks, pushed open the door, and was gone down the hall.
All three of them heard the entryway door being shoved open and the hurried but muffled footfalls (she hadn't bothered to grab any shoes) leading off into the night.
"Oh, shit!" said Alison, a worried frown clouding her countenance. She looked at Hank, who had this incredibly sheepish look on his face, which sort of detracted from the total package. She felt a pulling sensation inside her again, looking at his shoulders, his legs, his hips, and his cupped hands and the halo of pubic hair around them. But the face he had on definitely cooled her off. He knew. And he didn't feel too great about it either right now.
Alison looked back at Sandy, who had sat up on the sofa and held the knuckles of her right hand to her forehead, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch. She was still brazenly naked, and although she had plainly wiped Sarah's juices off her mouth, there was a faint sheen of sweat across her breasts and neck, and her breathing was irregular. She looked up and wrinkled her brow at Alison, who tied the towel more tightly around her body.
"Shit is right, sister," said Sandy. A stupid, shit-eating grin came across her face, and she laughed lightly. "Aw, shit," she muttered, smiling.
Snapping out of it, Hank grabbed his plaid boxers off the floor in Sarah's room and whipped them on, almost falling over when his heel caught on the crotch. He almost thought he heard threads tearing. He had to grab his dick and try to squeeze the blood out of it a little before burying it in the shorts; he had been so rock-hard that it would have flopped right out for all to see, otherwise. He darted back into the main room. "I'll go get her," he said, looking at Alison intently. He felt this incredible pang of guilt, this post-orgasmic "you-did-it-and-you-weren't-supposed-to" pang of guilt, which overwhelmed at least temporarily his arousal.
"No," replied Alison, walking quickly toward him. She passed him and retreated into Sarah's room. "I'd better do it. God only knows what she'd do to you. God only knows what she thinks of you right now." Alison picked up a few articles of her own clothing off the floor and hastily threw them on Sarah's bed. The towel came off, and she bent over to grab her jeans.
Hank stole a look at her firm, ripe ass and the sides of her breasts, which were the only parts showing. He looked away, back into the main room, and Sandy rose from the couch and looked toward him.
"Look, don't worry about it. It's probably my fault anyway," said Sandy, a wry smile on her face. She wrinkled her brow and smoothed back her hair, completely oblivious, apparently, to the fact that she was completely nude. As her arms moved up and back, Hank saw her breasts, 34-B's definitely, slowly stretch from slightly sagging, to round, then pulled up at the sides, and then sort of squared off in front of the armpits as both arms leaned into a stretch behind her. Sandy shut her eyes and crunched her eyebrows, and then she quickly opened her eyes widely and looked straight at Hank.
The effect was mesmerizing. Her dark brown nipples, hard and erect in the coolness of the main room, were unlike any Hank had ever seen before, and it wasn't just the color. She kept her gorgeous eyes fixated on him as she bent and picked up her shirt. Her breasts almost stayed completely still, they were so firm and tight. In a simple, graceful move, Sandy slipped the T-shirt over her head and pulled it down just past her cunt.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" asked Alison, returning from Sarah's bedroom with the "Girl" shirt scrunched up in both hands over her head. Hank caught one last glimpse of her bouncing breasts as she moved quickly into the room again before "Girl" covered them up defiantly once again. Her blush had faded, and now her eyes were tightened slightly in slits as she looked at Sandy, as if trying to comprehend.
"Look, I just gave her a little booze at the mixer, we started dancing in a big group, and she kissed me," said Sandy, closing her eyes tightly while she said the words. When she opened them again, they were staring straight at Alison. "It's weird, but she got all kooked-up on me, and she just leaned in and planted a pretty good one right on my lips."
Alison looked at Hank."Heck, it's been a while since we went out," he offered, shrugging. "Anything can happen in time. She never told me about anything . . . like that." He shot a glance back toward Sandy and grinned quickly, stupidly. "Hmm."
"Well, whichever one it is --- pissed at you, pissed at me and him," sighed Alison, "I guess I'll find out soon enough." She grabbed a torn jean jacket off a chair just inside her own bedroom and walked toward the hallway. "Just tell the cops it's me if they find somebody at the bottom of the lake with her eyes clawed out." With a crooked smile toward Hank first and then Sandy, she left.
"Be good, Henry!" she cried from the stairwell, just before the door to the hallway swung shut. Her voice carried with it a note of distinct sarcasm, and Hank wondered how to take it, suddenly completely befuddled at the whole situation.
He left his position at the entrance to Sarah's bedroom and slumped into the couch, deep in thought. He wrinkled his nose and ran a hand through his hair, staring out the window into the night. In front of him, Sandy gracefully fished her pants off the floor and slipped them on, buckling only the bottom of two belts on her slacks and leaving the fly open.
"So who the hell are you, besides 'Henry'?" sniped Sandy in a tone that seemed to him to be neither playful nor fully sarcastic. She brushed her hair back with both hands again in the same manner as before, except this time Hank wasn't watching. Just before she finished the motion, he suddenly remembered the image of her bountiful breasts stretching and moving, and he looked at her quickly with a sad, pleading, hopeful feeling. Suddenly he felt isolated and alone and decidedly horny in a self-pitying sort of way. He caught just the tail part of her motion, but he could still see the outline of her right breast pushed tightly against the slightly damp T-shirt, he could still see the outline of one divinely engorged nipple.
"Yo. Romeo. Is there anything I should know about you, I said." Sandy looked at him intently, bending over and holding her knees in front of him. "Sarah know you, or something? You dated?"
"Yeah. Shit," replied Hank. He stared at his kneecaps and sank back further into the couch. "We were pretty hot and heavy for-" A moment of silence intervened. "We . . ." He frowned. "Well, we went out for a while. I guess neither one of us really knew what we were doing. We kinda fooled around a little bit, and we kinda fucked things up pretty good, I guess."
"Did you get her drunk and did she kiss you and then- . . .?" Sandy was grinning again. Her teeth were perfect. Hank felt the backs of his own teeth with his tongue almost involuntarily, just after seeing hers. They looked so smooth. Sandy pushed the hair out of her eyes again, but this time only with one hand and while bending over. Her breasts hung against the shirt, but Hank couldn't see down the neck. Her hair, done in an assortment of narrow braids, clicked together at the ends where little yellow clasps kept the thin braids from falling out. The sound was soothing somehow.
"I think we were both each other's firsts," replied Hank. "But no, I don't think I got her drunk that time." He smiled. "That came later, when I was debating whether or not to try and get her back. I don't think she holds alcohol too well. She just got really silly after a while."
"So she was in love with you?" Sandy straightened herself out and sat down at the other end of the couch, reclining against the arm and looking right at him.
"I don't know. Maybe." Hank scratched himself through his boxers. He had sank deep enough into the sofa that his bare skin didn't feel too cold in the now-chilly room.
"You said it was her first time," said Sandy in a low voice. "Doesn't everyone love the first one?"
"I guess," replied Hank. He was starting to feel a little more relaxed now. Out of the back of his active memory he pulled out a few fleeting glimpses of naked Sarah, lounging on top of a letter jacket in that back seat of the Taurus. Damn, that was a good car. And Sarah was great fun, even if it was difficult and weird the first time. He remembered the look on her face. It was like utter exhaustion combined with flaming intensity. He remembered the depth of her breathing, how she filled her lungs and emptied them like they were only good for a little while longer and she wanted to get her money's worth out of them. Hank remembered her flattened breasts, his fingers sliding over the chilled flesh as he knelt on the floorboard and planted slow kisses all over her face and neck and chest.
"Didn't YOU love your first one?" Sandy slid nearer to him.
"Yes," said Hank in a whisper after a long pause. Sarah was moaning underneath him, pulling his face closer to kiss his lips.
"Remember how it felt?" Her right hand was on his knee.
Suddenly the spell was broken and Hank turned his head suddenly toward Sandy. "Yeah," he said. "I remember all of it." He gazed quizzically at her; his penis had started a slight climb with the memories, but he was feeling very ill-at-ease. There was something about Sandy that really put him on edge.
"Memories are the best things, you know," whispered Sandy. "You have them forever. That's why you have to make them GOOD memories. And that's why you have to really have to WORK to make them good memories." She glanced all around his face, her eyes darting from his eyes to his mouth, and then to his hair, and then back to his eyes, shifting between them rapidly.
Suddenly Hank felt his stomach turn inside out, and the blood rushed out of his thighs. He could feel his penis swell uncontrollably, and it poked the front of his boxers. With one quick motion he shoved it back down between his legs before it burst out through the fly.
"Baby," sighed Sandy, furrowing her brow teasingly, "have you got yourself all hot and bothered?" She smiled warmly and looked down at his crotch, then back up at his face.
"Don't make fun," grumbled Hank, crossing his arms in front of him and turning away. His penis wanted to jump out and proclaim its ardent lust for Sandy and her tight breasts, beautiful teeth, and enchanting eyes, but he knew she was just playing around with him.
"Hey now," cried Sandy, giving his leg a little shove and withdrawing her hand. "What, do you think I'm a lesbian? You think I don't like guys?"
Hank paused, his mouth open. She didn't let him interject.
"Look," she scolded, rising. "Just 'cause I like girls too doesn't mean I don't like dicks, asshole!" She glared at him reprovingly, then straightened her back and looked down at him with a closed-lip smile. "I think you need convincing."
Things began to move in the same kind of slow-motion that occurs whenever adrenaline rushes to your brain before an argument or a fight, or in the midst of a nasty accident that you see happening just before you can't possibly stop it. Hank's brow began to tremble as he looked up toward Sandy. She pulled her hair back from her head just as she had done twice before, and his eyes fell to her chest. Minutes passed, it seemed. Her breasts rose and stretched through the fabric, and Hank looked back at her face, which maintained the closed-lip smile, but he saw a sparkle in her eyes. She held her arms above her head for an infinity and took a deep breath, letting it sigh out of her lungs. She pursed her lips, and their fullness, already shocking, was enhanced even more. He wanted to kiss those lips so badly, wanted to feel them kissing him, lingering over his face, his neck, his chest, his belly, his penis.
"Take it off. I want to see how much you want this," said Sandy, still stretching her arms back behind her head, as she glanced toward his crotch and then back up to his face. She shook her head and her hair clacked together entrancingly.
Hank swallowed incredibly hard and grabbed his shorts, working them quickly off his hips and down to the ground. His mouth dry, he looked down at his groin and saw his penis beating slowly to the rhythm of his heart, rising quickly into the air. He looked back at her and felt like he had lost his power of speech, the muscles in his face still quivering in heightened arousal. He hadn't even felt this turned on with Alison!
Sandy winked at him, smiled a wide, toothy smile, and pulled the T-shirt up and over her head. As the fabric left her body, it clung to her breasts and pulled them quickly up, and they snapped back into place like rubber chew-toys and jiggled slightly. Hank felt saliva reenter his mouth and control return to his face, and he breathed deeply and let it out in pants. Somehow having seen them confined beneath the shirt, Hank appreciated her breasts a great deal more now, as Sandy grinned and stretched her arms for him again. They were perfectly shaped for her body, not too big or too small, and the graceful lines describing the slopes of the undersides of her breasts back to her armpits were exquisitely formed.
While stretching, she suddenly leaned forward and almost hit him right in the face with her chest, bringing her arms back around and taking his head in both hands. She growled in his left ear and bit it almost too hard, and he sat up away from the back of the couch, pushing her up with him. Her knees came around on either side of his hips, and his hands encircled her body and rubbed the flesh on her back.His fingers fanned out and stroked her warm, supple skin, feeling the ridges of her spine and following the upside-down ledges of her shoulder blades down and around to the spaces just behind and to the side of her breasts. Her tongue splashed all over his ear, and her hot breath lit him up. Hank slid his hands, thumbs first, to her chest and enclosed both breasts in his fingers. His thumbs and second fingers squeezed and pinched her nipples, floating over the tight, hard flesh and then retreating to the skin around the areolae.
Her pants-covered crotch rubbed back and forth against his dick, which had by now filled up completely and stood at attention. She crushed and mashed his lusty tool, first pushing it back against his belly, then forward and down to his thighs. Sandy's lips found his, and she bit his lower lip and pulled it slightly away from his jaw. Hank's hand left her breasts and slid down to her butt, where he felt the pocket ridges and seams catch at his fingernails. He slammed her ass harder onto his crotch with each rocking motion she made, intensifying the brutal treatment his willing member was receiving. It was getting beat up, and he fucking loved it. Sandy slipped down to his neck and sucked and bit until Hank felt the blood rush in hot, itching torrents to the spot where she labored. Her hot breath smoked over his skin, and he felt delirious with lust.
Sandy slipped her knees back and down to the floor, and she grabbed his penis in both hands, stroking it between her palms. Hank groaned and Sandy bent forward, slipping his dick between her breasts and pressing it into her modest cleavage, angled up so that the sensitive underside was rubbing against her skin the most. She paused and held his penis motionless, staring at him with her mouth slightly open and her breathing deep but regular.
"Ahh," cried Hank, shivering in delight and at the sudden coolness he was experiencing in her absence. He felt his penis throb, and a small stream of semen pushed out the end and ran down.
"Got a condom?" asked Sandy. She began to rub his dick with one hand while keeping it flat against her chest with the other. He looked down at her and swore that her breasts had swollen by a little amount; when she rubbed him, they swayed back and forth as if they were heavier, filled with blood. He was mesmerized by their motion and had to concentrate when he suddenly felt an internal pulling in his dick. With relief, he headed off the ejaculation and sighed. Suddenly he remembered the question.
"Fuck!" he said, blowing air in exasperation. "I don't carry one with me." He felt the blood stagnate and begin slowly to leave his penis. "Damn it. Of course YOU'RE not on the pill."
"Nope," she replied. She looked down and felt the rigidity of his shaft lessen slightly; it bent further back as she hugged it to her chest. "Hey hey hey, baby," she sang, pulling her eyebrows up and together. "Don't you go anywhere on me. I thought for sure Ali'd have given you an extra."
"Huh?"
"She's got some fucking condoms, Hank! Didn't you use one before?"
"Oh." Suddenly his mind was racing. "Wait, she TOLD me she was on the pill!"
"Maybe. I don't know anything about it." Sandy let Hank's penis fall and got up, breasts swaying ever so slightly. "All's I know is that she had a whole box of 'em right in her closet, and she told me about 'em, in case I ever needed one or something. I kinda thought she was bragging. I guess not."
Hank heard her rummaging through Alison's closet. His dick, while still thick, had dwindled in size a little. His thought made it shrink up even more. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself. "Christ." He stood up and stared at the floor in front of Sarah's room, standing in front of the couch. "God, this is ridiculous."
Returning from the room with a foil square in one hand, Sandy saw the look on his face. She decided to ignore it, instead circling around behind him and insinuating both arms under his. She traced circles on his chest with one edge of the condom and slowly rubbed her breasts against his back. "I got one. We're OK," she mewed in his ear. Shaking her head back, her locks clacked together again.
Hank was filled with conflicting thoughts. He had suddenly felt so base, so completely filthy. What if Alison really WASN'T on the fucking pill, anyway? Jesus, he just fucked her. Just fucked her. And then Sarah walked in, and then it all went straight to hell. And now, Sandy. And-
"What do I have to do, beg?" whispered Sandy, sensing some indecision. Hank felt the points of her nipples pressing into his back. He felt the exact spots of the contact, and she began to run her fingernails up and down his chest, down all the way to his crotch and back up again. He closed his eyes and tried to control his thoughts. His hands slowly met hers and covered them on their circulating paths around his body.
Her right hand stole down to his balls and cupped them, and the tingling spread from his groin all the way up his spine and burst into his head, eliciting a shiver. Sandy's left hand joined her right and curled around his expanding penis, slowly jacking up and down on the hot rod. The condom must have gone into a pants pocket or something. Hank's hands left the backs of hers and traveled back behind his head, where he grasped hers and bent around to find her lips. He opened his mouth and met hers in an engaging kiss that soon evolved into some major frenching.
Sandy smacked her lips against his and continued to pull on his dick until he completely lost control and spun around in place, grabbing both breasts and savagely fondling them. She groaned loudly but was almost completely muffled by his mouth. Her hands ran up and down her back as he continued stroking her breasts and palming the nipples, pushing her tits apart, then together, then both up. When he lowered his head to her chest and tried to suck in her left nipple, she pushed him away and backed toward the couch.
She stood smirking, biting her lower lip. She ran her hands through her hair AGAIN, and Hank almost passed out. His dick swelled even higher as he watched her breasts get pulled up and then out again. "Get in that fucking bedroom, asshole," growled Sandy in mid-stroke, her arms still extended above her head. Hank's knees were about to buckle beneath him, so he slowly turned around and looked into the dark bedroom that was Sandy's and Alison's. He started to shuffle inside, looking over his shoulder at Sandy, who kept her arms raised while following him, and then dropped them quickly. Hank stepped through and into the darkness, and Sandy switched on the light and quickly closed the bedroom door. "Get on the bed," she commanded, pointing to the bed just to the left of the door. The other one must be Alison's.
Hank lied down obediently, his raging hard-on pointing straight up into the air. Sandy slipped the condom packet out of her back pocket, threw it on his chest, and then fumbled with the fastened belt buckle on her pants. Hank picked up the foil and looked at it, almost completely missing the show in front of him. Sandy had undone her pants, and she pulled them off her hips and let them slump to the floor. Naked, she was breathtaking in the clear light of the bedroom, and he gasped, but she didn't let him have a good look. The vision of her smooth, brown body with its beautiful curves, dark hair on her mound, and hair in braids reaching past her shoulders imprinted itself in his brain. He swallowed hard again.
She quickly kneeled over him, grabbed his dick and held it right in front of her cunt, which was already dribbling juices down one thigh. "Gimme that thing," she said, nodding at the foil wrapper. Hank fumbled with the package and finally tore it open, handing the rolled-up rubber to her. She jacked him quickly, running her fingers up and down his tube, and her breasts heaved. When she placed the roll on the head of his dick, Hank thought he'd come right then and there, and he had to gulp air for control. She rolled the condom down his dick and pulled the tip out a little when she was done, just like you're supposed to. He was about to say something, having fought off another orgasm, when she suddenly reared up and slipped his condom-clad dick right into her cunt. He watched it disappear into her depths, and his breath caught. He heard the wrinkle of the latex as his penis slid inside. She was so hot, he thought he wouldn't be able to last more than a minute.
Sandy bent forward in a quick motion and hit the pillow on either sides of his head with her elbows. Her face hovered slightly above his. Her dark brown eyes swallowed him up, and he stared deeply into them. "Relax," she sighed, shaking her head. "Let me do the work." She smiled and began a long, slow grind.
The pleasure of the motion boiled up in her tunnel, and as she reached the base of his dick, her clitoris was forced back into her pubic bone and rubbed between it and his soft flesh. "Mmmmmmm," moaned Sandy, closing her eyes and mashing her breasts against his chest. Hank moved his hands up to her ass, and he stroked and fondled both cheeks lovingly. When she pulled herself back off his penis, he let up on the pressure, and when she thrust forward again, he pushed her further down onto his dick. The feeling was sensational; his penis was buried in the tightest, warmest, smoothest place he thought he'd ever felt, and the condom was actually helping him from shooting off.
"Uhhhhh," grunted Sandy, sliding her pelvis up and then back down again more quickly than before. "Mmmmh!""She bit her lip and hovered about a foot from his face. "Damn," she moaned, increasing the speed with which she sheathed and unsheathed his penis in her vagina. Her clitoris felt like it was the size of a plum, it was so engorged now.
When she started to pick up speed, Hank shifted his hands from her butt to her breasts. They swayed up and down ever so slightly with the fucking, and he lazily stroked them in and out of reach as they went up and away from him and then back down again with her movements. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened them again, staring right into hers. He grabbed her nipples and pinched them. She closed her eyes for a second but opened them again, still not looking at him. He pinched again, harder, and she moaned and closed her eyes, but still kept her gaze fixated on some object to his left and over his shoulder. He used his fingernails, and he literally gouged her nipples, starting softly and then building the pressure until her moan grew into a low wail. She shoved her pelvis onto him, and he felt the tightness increase and his penis throb in response. She was looking straight into his eyes now, and her motions slowed but picked up tremendously in intensity. It was like she was taking him in all the way up to his butt or something. He felt like his whole body was a giant piston inside her cunt, and he suddenly had to concentrate on something else to keep from spraying.
Hank scrunched up his lower body, trying to slide his head down to her chest, and she obliged him, riding higher up and bending his dick flatter against his belly. His mouth found her nipple, and he bit her harder than he intended to. The pulling sensation was reaching a critical level, and he lost himself in passion. Sandy cried out in ecstasy and unexpectedly shifted into double-time on his dick. Pumping like a mad dog, she heaved her pelvis up and down on him in such a fashion that his breath was crushed out of him, and he wheezed on her breasts while he continued to chew and lick her right nipple. She quickly forced his other hand over to her left nipple, and he began to twist and pull it as well.
They were drenched in sweat, and Sandy was near exploding. The perspiration dribbled off her forehead and onto the pillow directly below her. Her pubic bone dug into the soft flesh above his dick, and he almost cried out in pain as her thrusts became more and more powerful. Yet the pain somehow turned him on so much that his dick swelled and pulsed inside her tight cunt.
"Uhhhhhhh, OhhhhHHHHH!!!!!" cried Sandy, intensifying her efforts to an incredible degree. The whole bed was shaking and creaking, and Hank could barely manage a breath in between being squished by her pistoning body. Her breasts jiggled back and forth, her nipples almost felt as hard as his teeth, and her clit had sunk back away from her hole. "OHHHH!" she bawled after a deep breath, and her thrusts gradually lost their strength. Hank felt his entire body was wet; his crotch felt like it was underwater, and her cunt felt entirely new. It was suddenly looser, and his dick continued to sway in and out and around inside. He backed off from her nipples with his teeth and merely sucked them between lip and tongue and made little circles. She had come, and come buckets, and his penis felt like it was going to explode.
"Need . . . something . . . else?" gasped Sandy, riding out the last of her orgasm atop his thrusting penis. Her face was limp, like the rest of her body, but she suddenly came back to life and began to rub her crotch against his again, but with less vigor.
"Ah," groaned Hank. "Uh." He buried his face in her cleavage, and she reached down and clamped her breasts around his face. Sandy pushed herself onto him exceptionally hard, and his dick suddenly clenched up and began its lightning-fast climb to orgasm. His eyes shot open, and he started moaning. Deep inside her, Sandy could feel his dick begin its spasming, releasing his spunk inside the rubber.
He had held it for as long as he could. The feeling was incredible, and his pumping seemed like it lasted for a whole minute. When he was finally done, his ears filled up with blood and he crumpled back into the blanket. Sandy slipped his dick out of her dripping cunt, holding onto the open end of the rubber, and rolled off him. She pulled him up so that he could rest his head on the pillow, and she lay her head back into the depression between his shoulder and neck.
"Whew," was all that Hank could manage to mutter. His eyes were closed. | 4 |
4,084 | Fevered Fall | "Why are we wearing swimming suits?" I asked. My voice was high-pitched. I felt tense.
"Because we're going to get wet," Rebecca told me. Her voice was cool, icy, like the air outside. Autumn was here. Brad was gone, back in college. There was just my auntie and me, staring ahead into a long weekend, by ourselves, bored. Until, that is, she told me at 10 o'clock on a Saturday morning to put my bikini on.
"But I want to watch Scooby Doo!" I told her, sitting in front of the TV, eating a big plate of cheese crackers.
"Chloe, put on your bikini!" my aunt told me. Her voice sounded tense now too, high-strung.
"But she doesn't even have a pool," I said.
My aunt came into the den. She looked stunning in a bikini so small it barely covered her pubis below, while her lustrous bosoms jiggled in a brassiere that seemed made from two postage stamps, and a string. She tossed her brown hair. It was a long, thick mane of hair, tumbling over her shoulders and covering her far better than her swimsuit did! She reached down and pried the remote control out of my hand.
"It looks like trouble, Scooby!" Shaggy was declaring on the TV.
CLICK.
"Auntie, I like that episode!" I complained.
"I want to go see Helene," Rebecca said. "And I'm afraid to go alone." Her eyes grew larger. "I'm afraid... of what she might do to me if I'm all by myself."
I looked up at my aunt. She fidgeted with the remote control. She looked as if she was fighting a desire to turn the TV back on, and sit down with me and watch it.
"I don't want my bottom to hurt again, like it did the last time we visited her, auntie," I said in a hushed voice. Instinctively my aunt put a hand behind her, and touched her own fanny. I stared up at her, her hips thrust forward, her bottom on her ass, clutching my remote like a talisman, a key to my innocent childhood if she flicked it on, or not, if she didn't.
"Oh, Chloe!" my auntie said, looking down at me. "What shall I do? I met this really cool guy, in Helene's shop yesterday, and I'm utterly infatuated with him! Yet he lives with Helene, and to see him, I've got to see her."
"What happened to Johnnie?" I asked.
"I-I don't know," my aunt answered, hearing me, but not really listening. "He moved on. They parted. Now she has a new guy, named David. And he's reputed to have... to have..."
"Yes?" I asked.
"Well, they've nicknamed him the fire hose," my aunt told me.
"The fire hose?" I asked.
"Because he's so long," my aunt said.
"Hot diggety!" I said. I leapt up. I wiped the back of my hand across my face to get all the crumbs off it.
We arrived at Helene's dressed demurely, wearing the latest fall fashions. I had on a plaid skirt and a modest, lace-trimmed blouse. I was wearing my beaded flower jewelry that I'd gotten the previous day out of a gumball machine. It wasn't the most fashionable way to purchase jewelry, but I thought the little beads were pretty cool, and I liked the small flowers. I had a necklace, a wristlet, and, over one of my white socks, an anklet of beads. My aunt was dressed in a tunic with a fluttered hemline. It had long sleeves that had cuffs, she'd buttoned both cuffs, giving her a very prim look. Over her light tunic she'd pulled a thick pebble-colored turtleneck sweater. She wore a matching peaked cap on her head, oversized, that gave her small, delicate features an even more pampered and adorable look. With her tunic she wore pinstriped pants, as if dressed for a fashionable but conservative day at the office. Fingerless mittens completed her ensemble, keeping the brisk air from chapping her hands. I had on big, thick, winter mittens, plus earmuffs. Of course nobody who saw us get out of the taxi, let alone the cab's driver, knew we wore not underwear but the smallest of swimsuits under our autumn clothes.
Helene met us at the door. She smiled, her eyes sharp as a cat's as she gazed out at us from behind a pair of round, wire-rimmed glasses. Her hair was pinned up, neatly. She looked like a librarian. The sight of her sent a thrill of wonder through me because I knew, behind that peaceful facade, lay one of the wildest, most decadent women I'd ever met. She took my mittened hand, drew me inside. She offered to remove the jacket I wore. I turned, she slipped it off me. I felt a thrill as her hands passed over my small, 13-year-old shoulders. She handled me like a mother, and yet she was so utterly depraved, so cruel!
"We only came to see the fireman," I told Helene, hoping to dissuade any thoughts she had of taking us downstairs to her basement.
"He is here?" my aunt asked, a touch of nervousness in her voice. Helene looked at her.
"Of course," Helene answered. "Such a lovely turtleneck you've got on, dear. Please take it off."
Oh, how her words sent a chill through me! She could be so direct, so blunt, so in control! She knew we'd been here before and I realized she wasn't going to beat around the bush this time. There was nothing to hide, we'd tasted her 'hospitality' before and yet chosen to come again!
"Can we see the fireman?" I blurted, feeling fright rise up within me and yet somehow drawn to the feelings she sent washing through me. My knees trembled. She hung up my jacket in a closet by the door and then turned me to face her and began unbuttoning my blouse.
"Oh, good. You've come prepared in your bikini," Helene said, gazing within my blouse as she undid the buttons.
"Must we get out of our things so soon?" my aunt asked. Her voice was high, quavering. She sounded like a child wishing to avoid a spanking. (Which, when you think about it, wasn't so far off from the truth!)
"Yes, we'll party in the living room. Just your bikinis will be needed," Helene said.
"My aunt wore a really small bikini," I told Helene.
"I'm sure David will be impressed," Helene replied.
Our hostess did not disrobe herself. Instead, she concentrated on my aunt and me, stripping us down until only our bikinis remained. I was allowed to keep on my frilled, ankle high socks, as well as my open-toed heels. She let me wear my beaded flower jewelry. My aunt was permitted to wear her peaked cap, but nothing else, save her swimsuit, and the black knee-length boots she'd arrived in. Helene smiled at us. She escorted us into a sitting room along the side of her house. I could see the neighbor's yard through the window. Helene closed the curtains, blocking out the view. Then she lit the room's lamps and seated us.
The doorbell sounded, just as my aunt and I sat down. I sat on a richly patterned cloth sofa. My aunt sat across from me in a thickly upholstered chair.
"Please make yourselves comfortable. I'll be back in a minute," Helene smiled at myself and my aunt.
The room had a placid, conservative appearance to it. I felt myself relax as I gazed around. We might have been in the sitting room of a middle-aged lady, a widower even, the room was so pleasantly ordinary. Some knick-knacks rested on a shelf. A mantle held twin candles, unlit, for it was only noon. A fireplace glowed with almost extinguished coals, a remnant of a fire the previous evening or, perhaps, a half-hearted attempt to ward off the slight chill in the room. The light from the sun outside, filtered by the overhead clouds, seeped in past the edges of the room's curtains. The lamps glowed, softly, sedately. There was an air of complete and utter safety within the four walls of that room. Oh, how deceptive Helene could be!
A brunette stepped into the room. She was, I learned later, only 17, but she looked like a young, professional woman. She had short hair. It bobbed with enthusiasm as she walked. It hung to her shoulders. Her eyes were big and round and open with a sense of delighted wonder. She smiled at Rebecca. She smiled at me.She was nude, save for her bikini, and a pair of expensive lime green sneakers. She had small ankle-high socks on her feet. Her bikini was red. She had just a tinge of a summer tan. Her cheeks were bright and rosy. Her mouth looked like rose petals. She regarded both my aunt and myself with the eagerness of a hiker joining two more experienced climbers.
"Hi!" the brunette said.
"Hello," my aunt replied. The brunette sat down in a brocaded love seat. Immediately afterward, a man entered the room. He was dressed in a Speedo swimsuit. He was, I guessed, the husband or lover of the brunette. He headed toward her, grinning at Rebecca and myself as he passed us.
"No, Alan. Over here," Helene said, coming into the sitting room after him. She pointed to a chair on the other side of the room from his girlfriend.
"But I want to sit with Audrey," Alan said.
"I know what you want to do. And I know what you'll want to do in a few minutes too," Helene told him with a smile. "Over here, please."
The man obeyed. He was young, perhaps half a decade older than Audrey, but no more. There was a vigorousness to his walk which I much admired. He was tall and strong and yet quite willing to let Helene put him wherever she wished. He sat down in a chair facing us. We all faced each other, all four of us sitting in a separate chair. We all wore swimsuits, except Helene. She wore a side-buttoned tunic, all black, with slim, efficient sleeves. She had a pair of booties on her feet with four buckles each, none of them merely for show. She picked up a pair of leather gloves off a small deal table and slipped them on. She had placed on her head a prim, mohair crusher hat. With her glasses, her hat, her gloves, her boots and her long, ankle-length dress, she offered us no glimpse of herself, though I knew it wasn't from any embarrassment about her figure. I'd seen her undressed before; she had a spectacular bosom and a waist that was very slim, with hips that rolled when she walked in a highly sexy manner. Even within her dress, the roll of her hips and the swell of her bosoms was intoxicating. I watched as Alan stared at her, visibly impressed. He might have wished that he was less taken by her for his interest in her showed immediately to us all by a swelling of his loins in his swimsuit.
Helene rubbed her gloved hands together. Her eyes passed over us. She nodded appreciatively at the growth in the front of Alan's swimsuit. Yet she smiled as well at Audrey, and my aunt. She gazed at my aunt in her miniscule bikini, drinking in the sight of her bosoms in their little postage stamp cups. Lastly, her eyes fell on me, and I was eager when they did, for I wished her to admire me as much as the others. I squirmed under her eyes. I thrust forward my tits and blushed when Helene regarded them with frank admiration. How strange it is to want someone who you know has wicked plans for you!
"I am so glad you four could come and be with me today," Helene said. "Rebecca, you are so brave to come back, what a delight it is to see you again. And you've spared nothing in showing us your beauty." We looked at her. My aunt blushed. She looked so tempting, so incongruous, seated in the big upholstered chair in a teensy bikini. "And Chloe, how courageous you are! Only 13, and such an adventurer!"
"I'm only here to see the fireman," I told her.
"Yes, dear. Of course," Helene said. She turned her gaze, and ours, upon Audrey. "How bold it is for you to wish to experience French sexuality!" she said to Audrey. The girl flushed. She was dressed in a small bikini, not one as skimpy as my aunt's but still one that would cause a commotion if it were worn at a public pool. Perhaps in an attempt at modesty, she had her legs crossed.There was no way I could have dragged myself out of Helene's after seeing David and his big packet. Slut! I wanted to cry to myself. But I buried that self-deprecation deep down in my tummy and enjoyed the warm feeling I felt there whenever my eyes fell upon David's loins.
He served us. Oh, how gentle and thoughtful he was! How his muscles rippled in the soft light of the room! How his penis bulged in his racing-style swimsuit! I felt utterly thrilled when I watched David serve Alan. Both men were equally bare, both of them clad in just Speedo swimsuits. One poured tea for the other as if he were a diplomat, yet in truth, I think, neither guy had anything going for him except for the fact that they were both totally handsome.
Helene watched over us, pleased at our acquiescence in her game.
"And now you must remove your swimsuits," Helene said. She glanced at Audrey, knowing the new girl would be the most recalcitrant. "Don't worry, my dear. Just the bottom is all you need remove right now. Keep your bra on, if you wish. This is, after all, a pee party. It's the loins we must see to enjoy the full depravity of our celebration.
"Oh, I shall want to pee soon!" Audrey said, taking another sip from her teacup.
"Yes, and you'll do it right here," Helene said.
"In the living room?" I blurted.
"Yes. Do it right on the chair," Helene said.
"Isn't that rather expensive?" my aunt asked. I remembered us playing Monopoly, and how she'd insisted we play on a mat, to protect her carpet.
"Some people spend $2,000 on a bottle of wine," Helene said. "I serve quality tea, which is far cheaper than wine, and prefer to spend my money reupholstering my furniture. And besides," she said. "Have you not noticed the cameras in the four corners of the room? You're all being filmed. For posterity, for yourselves to have something to keep, after we're finished, and, with your permission, for me to share with others, perhaps for a fee."
"No!" Audrey cried.
"Honey, you'll do just as she says," Alan told the girl across the room from him. She gaped at him. He let David take the half-finished cup of tea from his hand and, with the man holding his steaming cup and waiting, Alan thrust his hands into his swimsuit. He liberated his cock. It jutted forth, wiggling in the air like a charmed snake, standing upright from the flatness of his lower belly.
"You're well endowed, sir," David told Alan. I felt myself flush all over. Imagine, David with his obviously huge endowment complimenting Alan! In truth, Alan had one of the finest cocks I'd ever seen, yet I knew David must surely be even bigger. I was glad, suddenly, that Brad had gone back to college. I liked him, but I feared that here, at Helene's, with these two men, I might be inspired to do things I wouldn't want even my love Brad to know about.
"Thanks. Why don't you show me yours?" Alan asked. He was blushing slightly. He looked up at David.When it's quite impossible to hold it any longer, tell us, and then pee right here, with your boyfriend and David staring at your open legs as you flood my expensive chair with pee.
"Oh, this is horrible!" Audrey said. She looked at me, at my aunt. Rebecca's eyes were half-lidded. Her lips sparkled with the lip gloss. She ran her fingers across her tummy, and I knew what she wished to do. The same thing I yearned to; to diddle my slit and beg big David to thrust himself up me!
"I feel like a slut," I confessed.
"A slut?" Helene said. "Why, because you are obeying me? Do you want to feel my crop on your bottom, Chloe?"
"No!" I said.
"Then you'll do just as I tell you, and you'll not feel like a slut, because you have no choice in the matter," Helene said.
No choice! The thought made me gasp. What if Helene made me Do It with David, would I be a slut then? Surely I could not be. No matter how he fucked me, no matter how wild and depraved we were, it would all be okay, because Helene had commanded it!
"But-- but I shouldn't have come," I said meekly.
"And why did you?" Helene asked me.
"To-- to see the fireman," I said.
"You mean David?" Helene asked.
"Yes," I said.
"It is quite healthy for a girl to want to see a man, especially a man as fine as David," Helene assured me. "Spread your legs wider, Chloe. I insist. And have more tea. David, please serve her."
I admit, after that, I didn't think anymore about being a slut. I was in Helene's house, under her authority. I was like a puppy who, yearning for a master, had found one. I opened my legs wider and let my eyes frankly admire David as he poured my tea. I blushed, but it was involuntary, I refused to feel shy about my desires anymore. I sipped my tea, and watched David's cock bob as he walked around the room. I imagined it peeing. Would it look like the discharge of a fire hose when he peed?
"I have another treat for you, my fair guests," Helene said. She was still standing, watching over us as a mother hen does her chicks. She took down a bottle of L'Oreal hair scent from the mantle. It had been hidden behind a small, sedate doll poised in her Sunday best on the mantelpiece, dressed for church. She handed me the bottle. "You first, Chloe," Helene said.
"What am I supposed to do?" I said. I took the plastic cap off the bottle. Slightly confused, I lifted the bottle to my head. My mane of hair was well-brushed and neatly arranged, but if she wanted me to scent it for her, I had no objection.
"Not the hair on your head, Chloe," Helene said. "Spritz your pubic hair with it."
"You want me to perfume my bush?" I asked. My eyes were wide. I was wearing cologne, just a little; it seemed rather an insult to tell me I needed more, especially on my bush!
"It is only for the eroticism of it, Chloe," Helene told me. "A game; while we're waiting for our bladders to fill." I wondered at that. She, after all, had barely touched the cup of tea David had poured for her. Nonetheless, I aimed the hair scent at my bush and spritzed some on. How delicious it felt! How decadent! Everyone watched me as I sprayed my dell.
Helene took the hair scent from me. She gave it to David! "You next," she said.
"But this is girl's perfume!" David said.
"Spray it on your cock anyway," Helene told him.
"God, imagine, the future Arnold Schwarzenegger, spraying his dick with girl's perfume," David groused. Nonetheless he squirted it into his bush, and up and down the length of his long cock. He stiffened as he did it. He was already erect, but he became thicker and even longer as he put the perfume on his manhood.
"Now give it to Alan," Helene ordered.
"This is ridiculous," Alan said, taking the perfume from David.
"I know you men just want to fuck, but today we're going to do small, delicate things first," Helene said. "Tiny acts, carefully performed, and devoted to the parts of ourselves we usually keep hidden."
"Oh, can't I just slip out and pee and then come back?" Audrey asked. "I do have to go quite badly!"
"I'm starting to have to go pretty bad too," I confessed. I squirmed in my seat. How lovely the rich, brocaded cushion of the couch felt against my bare bottom! I glanced up at Helene, holding her crop. She smiled and said, "The first one to pee will be punished when we go downstairs, as well as the rest of you, all except for the winner."
"What about you? You're hardly drinking anything!" I told her.
Helene looked at me. "Yes, Chloe. That's because I intend for you to pee for me, not vice versa," Helene said.
Oh, how wicked it was! We all perfumed our genitals, waiting all the while for them to sprout with pee! I sucked in my tummy and tried not to think about my growing need to go to the bathroom. Imagine-- using a sedate sitting room to pee in! And doing it right on the furniture! All the while cameras recorded our every squirm, our every pee-induced movement. How could Rebecca put herself and me in such a predicament? And yet, like her, I yearned to see David pee with his big fire hose penis. I sat in my chair with increasing agitation.
"Next I've got some Raspberry Fantasy body lotion for us," Helene, still completely clothed in her side-buttoned tunic, informed us. She took the bottle down from behind another doll on the mantle. She handed it to Alan.
"You first, honey," she said, with an intimacy that made Alan's girlfriend, Audrey, bite her lip and frown.
"What am I supposed to do with this? This is for girls too!" Alan protested. I savored the sight of his cock, sticking up firm and hard from his belly. How sweet it smelled from across the room, now that he'd been forced to douse it with perfume!
"I want you to make your penis all slick and oily by squirting this body lotion all over it," Helene told Alan.
"Raspberry Fantasy body lotion?" Alan asked. "I'll smell like a fucking fruit!"
"Don't go by a gay bar on your way home," David laughed.
"You have to put it on too, darling," Helene said, turning to David. "Why don't you gentlemen do each other? I'm sure we girls would love seeing it. Here, David, you take the bottle. Squirt the lotion all over Alan's penis. Then Alan, you do the same for David."
What a delight that was! Seeing two big men, forced by Helen to oil up each other's dicks. I glanced at Rebecca. She watched, wide-eyed, as did I. I felt a wave of affection for her. She didn't make the best choices when it came to safe partying, but she sure knew how to find erotic places for us to go!
"And now," Helene said, when the men were oiled, and all of us had perfumed our sex. "There remains one part of ourselves that has yet to be dealt with." She grinned. "The nipples."
"What?" Rebecca gasped.
"You thought because I let you keep your bra on, that it would stay on forever? No, no," Helene said. "Girls, I want your bras now. And yes, they'll be burned in the fire, just like your panties. David, go around and collect the girls' bras. No resisting, girls, or I'll let you feel my crop on your fannies a lot sooner than you'd prefer!"
We took off our tops. We were naked now, except for our shoes. How silly I felt, sitting on the couch in my beaded flower jewelry, white socks on my feet, and open-toed heels, my slit perfumed, my sex moistening the chair I sat on! I showed my breasts. My nipples were hard, excited. David remarked on their condition as he took my top from me. I blushed. Audrey begged to be allowed to pee again, only to be told by Helene that she could pee whenever she wished.
"Oh, but not here! Not in front of everyone! And the cameras!" Audrey said.
"Be good!" Alan barked, from across the room.
"Oh, Alan, dear, I don't want to--"
SWICK! The sharp crack of Helene's crop sounded in the room.
"Yeeeeek!" Audrey said. We all stared at her. A red line formed on her right thigh, where Helene had slapped her.
"Shall I do the other?" Helene asked, holding her crop aloft over Audrey's other leg. The girl squirmed, tried closing her legs, then immediately opened them again, lest she incur Helen's wrath.
"N-No," Audrey said. She sat with her mount well-displayed, well-disciplined now, offering us a perfect view of her slit and moving her hips just a little. "But, oh, I do SO have to go!" Audrey said.
"Then pee," Helene answered her.
"Oh, but I mustn't, not on the--"
Suddenly, to our great surprise, Audrey began pissing! Her pee sprouted from between her lovelips and wet the chair she was sitting in. She tried rising; Helene clapped a hand on her shoulder. The girl stood in a half-risen pose for a moment, peeing down into the chair. Then she plopped down onto the love seat again. She continued relieving herself. A low moan escaped from her throat. She looked down at her dell and watched in horror as her pee flooded over the seat cushion.
"Very good," Helene said. "You lose, and will have to be spanked, but you did a nice job peeing."
"Oh, I don't want to be spanked!" Audrey said. But she sat in her pee, not moving, and I realized then that she did, in fact, wish to taste the crop, just a little. Helene stood over her and smiled down at her.
"You've done well, Audrey," Helene said. "Soon we'll see how well your boyfriend does. Have some more tea."
"Yes, ma'am," Audrey said. And she picked up her tea cup off the arm of the sofa and drank from it just as before, despite the fact that she was sitting in a big puddle of her own pee!"None of you will be seeing a bathroom before tomorrow morning, so you'd better get used to the idea of not having a toilet around," Helene told us. "Chloe, don't you have to go?" she asked me.
"Yes!" I said.
"Then go, dear. Let's see you pee on the sofa."
"Oh, but it's so pretty and--" I said.
"Whenever you're ready. Right there where you're sitting," Helene told me.
"It's not so bad," Audrey told me, over the rim of her teacup. "It just feels a little... wet."
Suddenly David erupted. He was pouring tea for my aunt, his hips barely moving, barely betraying his need, when suddenly his penis squirted pee all over her thighs. Rebecca screamed. She held her teacup for David, receiving the tea from the silver tea kettle, while watching simultaneously the pee spring from his penis. David tried moving, the result was his pee went right into her cup!
"Oh! Oh!" my aunt shouted.
"I'm sorry, I--" David stammered. I watched as he squeezed his ass cheeks and tried cutting off the flow of his pee. No use! He kept peeing and peeing, drenching the tea cup. My aunt moved; the cup overflowed and she barely avoided having hot tea splash down into her lap. David moved again, his stream of pee cascaded directly onto my aunt's bare legs.
"Oh, God!" my aunt cried. She lost all her reserve and began peeing too. David's pee showered her thighs as she offered her own golden tribute. I watched, fascinated. Only myself and Alan still managed to retain our urine.
"Oh, I don't want to lose!" I said to Alan. "Please, go to the bathroom!"
"I want to see you spanked," he grinned at me.
"I can't hold it much longer," I said. My eyes pleaded with him. He smirked at me.
"A guy can always hold himself longer than a girl," Alan told me. "You can forget about winning."
"Pee! Please pee!" I begged. "Pee like David did."
"Not a chance," Alan said.
We sat staring at each other for several minutes. David got a napkin off the tea tray and wiped his pee from Rebecca's thighs. Audrey asked for a napkin but Helene told her 'no,' she only had her own pee wetting her legs, so she must learn to endure it.
"I'm wet," Audrey said. She looked at me.
"I don't want to be wet!" I said.
"You're going to be," Alan said.
"You too!" I told him.
"Ladies first," Alan said.
"Now, for your nipples, a very special treat," Helene said. She picked up a small black bag that had been sitting, unbeknownst to us, behind the couch I was seated on. She opened it. We stared at several pairs of scissors that she drew from the bag. "These are surgical scissors," Helene said. "As you can see, they have flattened blades at the end. They're meant to hold parts of the body open, for surgery. They work like tweezers. In our case, we're going to put one on each of our nipples, to clamp them."
"Oh, why?" my aunt, sitting in pee, her cunt well-displayed, her nipples too hard, asked. Her eyes looked both shocked and excited by the proposal.
"Because, like I said, we're going to do small, exquisite things first, to our private parts," Helene told her. "To tease. Then, later, we'll do rougher things."
"I don't want my boobies clamped!" Audrey said. I looked at her. She had bright eyes. She bit her lower lip. She thrust forward her breasts. She was bashful, but not as much as she wished us to believe.
I trembled. I was still trying to hold back my pee as Helene began her game with the scissors. She started with me.
"Ouch!" I said, as the first of the scissors was applied to my breasts. Helene clamped my left breast with a pair of scissors, then my right. Two pairs of scissors were fastened onto me. How lewd I looked, with surgical scissors dangling from the tips of my breasts. I squirmed in my seat. The scissors hurt! Not impossibly, but enough that I would have torn them off myself, if only I could figure out how Helene had managed to get the handles of each scissors to fasten together. I gaped at my breasts. The scissors weighed down my breasts. They made them hang lower. "Oh, I'll have saggy tits!" I cried.
"Nonsense, dear. You're only going to wear them a little while," Helene told me. I didn't want the scissors but I wasn't a doctor, so I didn't feel skilled enough to remove them. Helene wasn't a doctor either, but she obviously knew what she was doing. "Please, Helene, take them off!" I begged.
"No," Helene said.
"I have scissors on my tits," I said, bouncing in my chair, gaping at Rebecca.
"I know," Rebecca said softly.
"They hurt," I told her.
Helene went over to my aunt. Rebecca watched as the first of the scissors was applied to her own breasts.
"Ouch!" Rebecca said.
"Yes, I'm nipping your nipples," Helene laughed. "Sit still, dear."
"I can't!" my aunt said. Yet she stayed reasonably still as the other pair of scissors was pinched onto her other breast. Audrey watched, waiting, sipping her tea, looking disconsolate.
Tingling and burning to pee, with my bottom seated comfortably if tight-cheeked on the couch, I waited for the inevitable to happen. There was not much time left. My bladder was bulging and I squirmed salaciously, drawing Alan's eyes to me and causing him to laugh that there was no way a girl could beat a boy in a peeing contest.
"Everyone knows girls have bladders the size of peanuts," Alan told me.
"I'm going to win!" I promised him. But I couldn't possibly imagine how. My tummy felt like it was going to burst! I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried not to think about the scissors clamped to my breasts. Oh, if only I had a pair of those scissors up inside me, to hold back my pee! I ran my fingers over my thighs. I clapped a hand to my vulva.
"She's cheating," Alan said.
"What? Squeezing your muffin?" Helene asked me.
Through shut eyes I said, "I must GO!"
"Let her squeeze her muffin if she thinks it can help her," Helene told Alan.
"Can I rub my penis if it will help me?" Alan asked.
"Of course not," Helene said. "I may not have a penis, but I know about jacking off. You men always spurt when you do that."
"So, I'll jack and pee at the same time," Alan said. "My balls are full too."
"And they'll stay full, young man," Helene said. "No jacking off in my sitting room."
"Oh, GOD!" I cried. Suddenly I felt a significant wetness between my legs. My eyes flew open and I looked down at myself. "Oh, no! AM I DOING IT?!" I shouted. Alan laughed. I couldn't believe I was losing! I had tried so hard to win! As I watched, the lips of my vulva squirted pee all over the seat cushion I was sitting on. My dry seat became a wet seat. I was undone.
"Ahhhhhh," Alan announced. Seeing that he had won, he released his pee with abandon. It sprouted from the tip of his penis and arced out across the room. It struck the coffee table. Some of his pee splattered onto the tea service sitting on the coffee table. David cleared his throat, meant to speak, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Alan, you're peeing all over my tea kettle!" Helene scolded. She hurried over to the coffee table and slid the tray farther away from Alan. He laughed. He arched his hips. His pee shot in a longer arc and hit the tea kettle again. "Alan!" Helene shrieked.
"I guess you'll have to whip my ass for that," Alan said.
"Yes, I certainly will!" Helene assured him.
"Oh, God. French sex!" Alan said. I saw that he'd come to Helene's to do more than just show himself. Like his girlfriend, he had a longing to find out what a sharply-applied crop felt like on his behind. I looked at the pee stained kettle and guessed he wouldn't have long to wait. | 3 |
4,103 | The Love Boat | "Rise and shine, sleepy-head!" Dawn McIntyre called out as she pulled open the small window drape and flooded the tiny cabin with early morning sunlight. "It's another beautiful day out in the middle of nowhere."
"Screw you!" called out a female voice as an arm emerged from beneath the sheets just long enough to throw a pillow at Dawn.
"Come on, Kari, you can't still be tired," the 22-year-old said as she effortlessly avoided the pillow. "It's too beautiful a day to spend it in bed."
"That's easy for you to say," Kari said as the blonde emerged from under the sheet, her long hair half covering her face. "You weren't kept up half the night by the couple next door. They were still going at it hot and heavy at 3 A.M.," she added as she pointed to the wall behind the bed's headboard. "I don't know how you managed to sleep through it all."
"Really? You should've woke me up," Dawn said as she crossed the room. "I'd have loved to listen to that."
"Pervert!" Kari called out before again disappearing under the sheet.
"Look who's talking," Dawn laughed as she again gave the end of the sheet a playful tug.
"Go away!" Kari repeated.
"Are you going to be this grumpy the rest of the week?" Dawn asked.
"Yes, and it's all your fault!" said the voice once again under the sheet.
"My fault?"
"Well, I'm not the one who booked us on this cruise," Kari said as she again emerged from seclusion. "What was it you said again... 'How can we lose? Four days on a cruise to nowhere. Fun, sun and all that goes with it.' You just happened to leave out one little detail...."
"You know I'm really getting tired of hearing this," Dawn said in mock protest, cutting Kari off, knowing if she didn't, she'd be hearing her long litany of complaint one more time.
At first, it'd seemed like such a great deal. Dawn had gone to see David Morgan, her old boyfriend, to collect some money he owed her. As usual, David pleaded poverty. When Dawn began to make a scene in the travel agency where David worked, he quickly offered to pay her in another way. He had a few extra tickets for a 4-day cruise to nowhere that was leaving Saturday morning.
The tickets were part of a charter that had been returned by two girls who now couldn't go. Non-refundable, so they couldn't get their money back, the tickets were worth a lot more than what David owed her. So he proposed a deal. He'd sell her the tickets for less than half price, and they'd call it even.
Dawn had resisted her first impulse to snatch up the deal. She had learned from hard experience that it was too easy to succumb to David's charms. The slight fluttering in her chest and the tingle between her legs as she looked into the handsome face of the 25-year-old reminded her that whatever other problems they'd had in their relationship, David Morgan was one first-class fuck. It was exactly that memory that caused her to think very carefully about his offer.
"Let me get this straight," she had said. "These tickets are already paid for, and you want me to pay for them a second time."
"Well, I am giving you them for half price," David smiled -- that damnable killer smile that she remembered so well.
With that, every warning light in Dawn's head went off. David only smiled like that when he thought he was getting over on someone.
"Well, I'll tell you what, David dear," Dawn had smiled back. "I'll be more than willing to take those tickets off your hands -- only as a fair exchange for what you owe me."
David appeared to be thinking it over for a few moments. From past experience, Dawn knew he was weighing the odds of getting anything more out of the deal.
"All right, you win," David said somewhat unexpectedly as he tossed the folder with the tickets over to her side of the small desk. "I guess you got me over a barrel."
Grabbing the tickets and quickly walking out of the travel agency, Dawn had been pretty pleased with herself. She'd figured she would never see that money again anyway, so she might as well get something out of the deal. She and Kari were planning a little vacation anyway, and now they were going on a trip they could never have otherwise afforded.
The one little thing that David had failed to mention was that the charter was for an all-girl cruise. Not just an all-girl - a lesbian cruise.
Since Kari had insisted on still going out Friday night, they hadn't gotten to the cruise ship until the last possible moment. They were just starting to pull in the gangway when their cab pulled up on the dock. It took a mad dash to make it just in time.
"So I make one little mistake," Dawn grinned as she held her thumb and index finger a few inches apart. "What your problem is that you can't make the best of a situation. Try having a little fun for a change. We're on a cruise ship with discos, great food, almost anything you could ask for. But you'd rather stay in bed and complain about it. You won't find me sulking in my room."
"No kidding," Kari said as she finally sat up in bed. "You must've been out on that dance floor until 2 AM. I was surprised that blonde you were dancing with settled for a kiss on the cheek when she said goodnight."
"So would that have been so horrible?" Dawn smiled. "It's not like we've never danced with other girls before or even kissed them."
"That was different!" Kari shot back.
"...and who knows, maybe we're missing out on something," Dawn continued.
"That's gross!" Kari hissed.
Dawn laughed at her friend's expression.
"That's what you said back in high school when I showed you how to blow a guy and let him cum in your mouth without gagging," Dawn retorted. "I seem to recall you've since changed your mind about that."
"I can't believe you'd even consider such a thing," Kari said as she slid out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom.
Kari D'Antonio stood 5'6" and weighed 120 lbs. She had long light blonde hair that stretched down the length of her back, ending just above the crack of her ass. Blessed with a slim athletic figure, her pride was a set of small, round breasts that stood firm without the aid of a bra. In fact, she had long since stopped wearing one back in her senior year of high school. A decision that had brought appreciative smiles to the male population and disapproving looks from most of the female half.
"Hey, I'm not saying that I'm going to go up on deck, spread my legs and take on all comers," Dawn continued. "I just mean that maybe we should look at things with a more open mind."
"You're crazy, you know that!" Kari called out from within the small bathroom.
"One more comment like that and I won't tell you about the surprise."
"What surprise?" Kari asked as she stuck her head back into the main room.
"The ship has to make some sort of repair, so they're pulling into San Cerino. It's going to take at least a day to make the repair, so we can go sightseeing and shopping."
"In some little third-world dump? No thanks," the 23-year-old said, disappearing back into the bathroom.
"Are you sure?" Dawn asked. "It's supposed to have some really great beaches."
"No thanks, I'd rather just stay here and relax," Kari concluded.
"Maybe you'll find some cute island boy to fuck your brains out," Dawn teased.
"I said I'm not interested."
"OK, suit yourself," Dawn finally said in desperation as she headed for the door.
She paused for a moment to check her appearance in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Dawn was an inch shorter than Kari and a little heavier. She wore her curly red hair very short, the edge of it hanging an inch above the collar of her blue shirt. Not as athletically built as her friend, Dawn had a slightly bigger bust which she felt more than made up for it.
"I think the lady doth protest too much," she thought as she closed the door behind her.
Locking the door behind her, Dawn paused as she heard the door to the cabin next door open. Curiosity made her wait long enough to see the couple who had kept Kari awake half the night. She smiled at the tall brunette in a white shirt and red shorts who stepped out the door. The brunette smiled back.Right behind her came a taller blonde dressed in a similar outfit. She also smiled at Dawn and wished her a good morning before taking her lover's hand in her own and heading down the corridor.
Watching them until they disappeared around the corner, Dawn again asked herself the question that she hadn't been able to get out of her mind since they'd come aboard two days ago. "What was it like making love to another woman?"
Back in their cabin, Kari glanced at the small alarm clock on the dresser. It read 09:30.
"Shit, I'd better get my act together or else I'm really going to sleep the day away," she thought to herself.
Not that she had any idea what she was going to do today, but there had to be something to interest her on this boat.
Grabbing a set of underwear from her side of the dresser, she stepped back into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Kari took a moment to admire herself in the mirror as she reached back and tied up her long blonde hair. Sometimes she envied Dawn's short dark locks, as tying up her hair all the time was sometimes a pain.
The warm touch of the gentle sprinkle felt good against her flesh as she stepped into the tight shower stall. She filled her hands with liquid soap from the wall dispenser and began to soap up her body.
Kari stroked her breasts, bringing her pert nipples to a familiar hardness. As always, her own touch felt so good. Soapy hands glided down across her slim stomach, finding their way to the tightly trimmed blonde bush below. She continued down between her legs and then around to the cheeks of her ass, leaving a soapy trail of bubbles in her wake.
Kari let out a soft sigh as her fingers again rubbed against her mound, reminding her that it had been three weeks since she'd been with anyone. For her, that was a very long time. Six months had passed since she'd broken up with her last boyfriend. Roger had been a great fuck, but outside of the bedroom, or any of the other numerous places they'd done it, he'd quickly become a first-class bore. Running her long outstretched fingers across her firm mounds once again, giving them a playful squeeze, the lithe woman was reminded of how horny she'd felt lately.
At this moment, she deeply regretted breaking up with Roger. Not that she missed him personally, but she'd broken up with him without having someone else warming up in the bullpen. The sudden intrusion of a series of never-ending winter storms had prevented her from meeting anyone new. At the rate she was going, pretty soon she was going to jump the first guy she met.
"God, I need a good fuck," she said to herself as she again glided her fingers down across her stomach and across the thin layer of blonde fuzz.
With a practiced skill, she parted her vaginal lips, quickly finding the small stubby clit hidden within. Closing her eyes as she leaned back against the tiled wall, she pressed a slippery finger against it.
"Oh yes," she purred as a familiar tingle spread out from her cunt. "That feels so nice."
She slid a soapy finger up within herself, followed by a second and a third. It was a poor substitute for a hard cock, but it would have to do.
It wasn't long before she was furiously pumping her fingers in and out, sparking the tiny flame between her legs into a conflagration.
The warm water had turned to hot, filling the tiny room with steam. The heat of which paled next to that which radiated across her quaking body as her fingers caressed her love canal in an orgasmic frenzy.
Water running down her face, her lips formed a silent O. Kari felt her legs and arms go weak as repeated waves of delight rippled up and down her naked form.
Long silent moments, broken only by the splatter of the shower drops, passed as the blonde rested against the now warm tile. The water washing away the traces of her climax. She had wanted to masturbate for the last two days but had felt funny doing it while Dawn was around.
Shutting off the water, Kari chuckled. Imagine her being embarrassed about anything sexual. Her, a girl who'd lost her virginity when she was 16 and would've needed much more than a scorecard to keep track of the men she'd been with since.
It didn't used to be that way. Dawn and her had been friends since grammar school. They'd double dated more than a few times, with all the closeness you can get when one couple is going at it in the front seat and the other is just as active in the back.
She didn't know why, but lately she was beginning to feel awkward around Dawn, at least where sex was concerned. It was silly really, and she promised to put it out of her mind.
Tossing her towel into the laundry basket, Kari quickly put on her bra and panties. Breakfast was served until 11:00. If she couldn't get laid on this trip, then at least she could enjoy some really great food.
The sweet sea air brought a sense of tranquility to Dawn as the small cruiser neared the dock. So far the vacation had been a lot of fun, but she was beginning to wonder if maybe she should've left Kari back in Brooklyn. She couldn't believe what a stick in the mud her friend had become. So what if Dawn danced the night away with a bunch of lesbians -- who cared.
Normally, next to Kari, Dawn was Mother Theresa. Kari had always been the wild one, the one who pushed it to the edge and then just a little beyond. Sometimes to the point where even Dawn was embarrassed.
That night they went into Manhattan last January, just before the first winter storm, was a prime example. All of their friends were talking about Dante's Inferno, the hottest new club in the city. It was already appeared in both the Post and People as the newest in spot for all the beautiful people. Dawn had protested that they'd be wasting their time, that they'd make that long two-hour bus and subway trip and then get turned away at the door. But Kari had insisted, so away they went.
Dressed in their Friday night best, they'd taken the long ride to the upper East Side of Manhattan. There they'd waited on line in the cold for over an hour, only to reach the door and be found wanting by the tall muscular bouncer.
"Come on Kari, let's go," Dawn said as she pulled her jacket tighter against the cold.
"No, we're going dancing," Kari insisted.
Kari again stepped up to the tall gatekeeper and smiled at him. At the same time, she let her jacket fall open, giving him a fine view of her barely covered breasts. The sudden exposure to the frigid air caused her nipples to instantly harden and become even more visible through the thin material.
"No big deal," he laughed. "I've seen much better."
Kari felt insulted, it was the first time any guy had turned down a free look at her breasts. It had always worked in the clubs back home.
"What do you have to do to get in this place?" Kari thought out loud.
The burly bouncer took a second look at Kari's boobs and then ran his eyes up and down her body, taking in the whole package. He leaned forward and said in a voice low enough for only Kari and Dawn to hear.
"Well, you could always blow me," he whispered.
Dawn was sure that her friend was going to immediately tell him to fuck off. Instead, she took a moment to look him over. He was tall, 6 feet, and around 220 lbs. The muscles that bulged from under his tight black T-shirt told of long hours in the gym. He was clean-shaven with dark brown hair, short and curly.
"Wait here a minute," she said to Dawn as she handed her purse to her and then peeled off her leather jacket. "Let's go," she said to the bouncer.
He didn't even bat an eye in surprise. Instead, he just turned to one of the other workers by the door and said to watch the gate.
"Go get her, Billy," his friend said.
Before Dawn could say a word in protest, Kari had grabbed the bouncer's thick arm and pulled him into the small alcove just off the doorway. Hidden from sight of everyone but her girlfriend and the new man at the door, Kari dropped to her knees and unzipped his black Levi's. Reaching inside his now open pants, she pulled down his briefs and exposed his hard cock to the frosty night air.
Kari didn't waste a second, taking his full 6 inches between her bright red lips. Both observers watched as her blonde head bobbed up and down for what seemed like only a minute or so. She became a blur of motion as his saliva-covered cock kept sliding in and out of her mouth. The expression on Billy's face told it all. The girl had an oral technique that would make an 8th Ave. hooker proud. He tried to hold back, but he was fighting a losing battle against an expert.
A second later, a loud gasp escaped his lips, accompanied by a burst of whiteness inside Kari's mouth. She buried her head deep between his legs, swallowing all that he gushed out.
Another brief spurt and it was all over. The blonde let his now semi-flaccid cock slip from her mouth and stood up, straightening her skirt as she rose. Kari didn't say a word, she just ran her tongue across her now smeared lipstick, cleaning off the last remnant of her efforts.
Sprouting a wide grin from ear to ear, Kari took Dawn's hand and led her startled friend past the now open doorway and into Dante's Inferno.
"And she called me a pervert," Dawn laughed to herself, her smile reflecting her good mood. "That's my Kari. She could screw the football team and not care who knew, but let another woman look at her with a little desire."
Looking out at the pristine beach growing ever larger, Dawn thought it lucky that Kari hadn't been with her that first night onboard. Still worn out from club hopping the night before, Kari was out like a light before midnight. Dawn, on the other hand, had taken a nap in the afternoon, knowing they were going out, and was still wide awake at midnight. She'd decided a walk in the night air would help her sleep.The cabin they occupied was one of the more inexpensive rooms on board, made more so by the fact that part of their deck was under renovation. Walking along the railing, enjoying the cool sea breeze, Dawn saw barely a soul. The disco was on the other side of the ship, and most anyone who was up and about was there. Still, she had seen three women walking up ahead of her a few minutes before, so she figured that while this section of the ship might be unoccupied, it was still open for a late night stroll.
"This is so beautiful," Dawn thought as she looked out at the full moon reflected in the endless ocean around her. "I never imagined anything could be both so empty and pretty at the same time."
Leaning on the railing, Dawn spent at least ten minutes just gazing up at the stars. They were so clear, and there were so many of them. Back home, with all the city lights to cloud the skies, they looked so much dimmer. Now she understood how people could fall in love on cruises.
Continuing her walk, Dawn heard giggling from just around the corner. Ever curious, she slowed to a quiet step and carefully peeked around the corner. Later, she doubted the three women who had passed her earlier would've heard her approach if she'd been wearing work boots.
Dawn's attention was immediately drawn to the woman in the center of the trio. In her mid-forties, she had noticed her earlier that evening at dinner, sitting at a nearby table. A short, heavy-set woman, Dawn had pointed her out to Kari and remarked that the older woman bore a striking resemblance to Miss Laufer, their 5th grade social studies teacher. Kari had agreed that there was some similarity, but there was no way that it could be her. After all, Miss Laufer had to be at least in her sixties by now. Still, her image had stayed with Dawn well enough for her to be still remembered.
Of course, the similarity with their former teacher ended there because there was no way the red-haired young woman could ever envision Alice Laufer in the scene before her. The brunette's royal blue dress was down around her waist, exposing the largest set of breasts Dawn had ever seen. They had to be at least a 44DD. Even her nipples were immense, the areolas stretching over three inches across. Of course, at the moment, she could only see one of them. The other was hidden by the back of a blonde head as one of her companions traced wet circles around it with her tongue.
Dawn had given only the briefest of glances to the woman's two companions when they passed her before. Still, she noted that they had to be closer to her own age than "Miss Laufer's". The third girl looked slightly Hispanic in the lowered shipboard lighting and was busily playing with the free breast with both hands.
"Oh shit!" Dawn exclaimed in a hushed breath. "This is fucking outrageous."
As quietly as she could, Dawn stood by the corner and watched the three women go at it. She'd seen a few girl/girl scenes in the porn flicks one of her old boyfriend's liked to watch, but never imagined she'd get to see one for real. It was so quiet that Dawn could hear the beating of her own heart, a thunderous noise drowned out only by the rise and fall of her breasts as she took each new breath.
It wasn't long before the action grew more intimate. "Miss Laufer" stretched down on a deck chair as the blonde pushed the rest of that blue dress up so that it also rested around her waist. Then, spreading Laufer's legs and pushing aside her panties, "Blondie" proceeded to perform an oral ballet on her womanhood. Dawn couldn't help but note she showed more enthusiasm for the action than any guy she had ever slept with. Continuing to lash out with her tongue, the blonde pulled out her own not unimpressive breasts and began to play with them with her free hand.
While this was all going on, the darker-skinned woman had completely stripped off her light beige dress and what little underwear she'd worn beneath it. Then, straddling the reclining woman, she lowered herself until her own cunt was pressed tightly against "Miss Laufer's" mouth. An action which seemed to greatly meet her approval as the older woman reached up and spread her hands against the young woman's ass cheeks. Pulling her hands and the soft flesh they contained toward her, "Miss Laufer's" applied her tongue in the opposite direction with a devotion that even exceeded that which she was receiving between her own legs.
Transfixed, Dawn really wasn't sure how long she stood there watching. Eventually, her fear of discovery overwhelmed her sense of erotic excitement. All she remembered was that it was almost three in the morning when she quietly tip-toed past a still sleeping Kari.
As the small motor launch was being fastened to the dock, Dawn again wondered what Kari's reaction to that little scene would have been. Or how she would've acted if she knew that when Dawn had been dancing with Crystal last night, her ears had been constantly filled with whispered encouragements.
Encouragements so graphic that if they'd come from a guy she'd just met, he'd be leaving the dance floor holding his cock and balls in agony. Thankfully, her friend also failed to notice just how many times Crystal's hand strayed to parts of Dawn's anatomy that would've again brought a physical assault to a guy.
Finally, when Crystal had given her that relatively chaste kiss on the cheek goodnight, it had come with an invitation to come back to her cabin and make their own music together. Dawn was still undecided as to if she might had accepted the offer had Kari not been there with her. Still, the memory of the offer put a wide smile on her face.
So lost was the red-haired woman in her brief recollections, she didn't notice that her smile was being returned by a tall, very pretty Chinese woman sitting across from her.
Breakfast had been excellent, Kari had to admit. It'd been a long time since she'd eaten that good. A few more days of meals like that and she'd really have to pay for them at the gym when she got home.
She'd spent the next few hours exploring the ship, getting lost more than once in the seemingly endless corridors. After a while, she didn't even seem to notice the absence of men, save for the occasional crew member. In fact, it was a pleasant change from the wolf whistles and "hey babys" she normally got when she walked down a street in her native Bensonhurst. | 1 |
4,116 | Under Control | "Halt!" Delia's voice rang out. The two slave girls dragging Paul stopped at once, and Paul's relief was almost overwhelming. Could it be over? He had sensed there was still time to go yet. Near to tears, he looked at the naked flesh of the two girls before him, the wire now slack between them. He saw the sweat that glistened on their flesh, saw the muscles that twitched with fatigue and pain, and realized that their sufferings could scarcely be less than his. Delia came into view, blonde and beautifully nude, smiling slightly in that smugly arrogant way of hers. How he hated that. No! No... he must not hate! He must submit and accept everything from her. She was his mistress.
"For the last half hour," she said, "we'll try it a little differently..." Paul's heart sank. God, he had been right! His ordeal was by no means over. And what did this smiling she-devil with the lushly inviting body have in mind now?
He was soon to know. For Delia came swinging up onto the steel-framed trolley on which Paul was secured kneeling. He was riven by the sight, scent, and sexual closeness of her. Tormented! The smell of sexual arousal was intense as her blonde triangle of hair thrust into his face. Then she knelt, and her lush breasts were close to his face. She was unloosing the wire which was around both the root of his penis and his scrotum. Paul gave a little low moan of relief, head drooping. Grinning, Delia took hold of his organ and toyed with it casually. "A little uncomfy, eh?" she said. "How long since you had a piece?"
"Months... Miss..." replied Paul hoarsely. "M-Months..." | 3 |
4,121 | The Analyst | "Send her in, nurse," said Dr. Hampton.
John Hampton then returned to his seat behind his large desk in his wood-paneled, bookshelf-lined office. The doctor was a forty-year-old, brown-haired (but graying) kindly man. John prided himself on being in very good shape, and his muscle tone evened out his five-foot stature to make him into a somewhat handsome man. He had been the resident psycho-analyst at the Institute for Educational Learning for five years now, and he had seen just about everything, becoming a little bit restless. Perhaps this new patient would be a bit more interesting.
The door opened, and his next patient strode confidently into his office, and John rose to shake her hand.
"Good afternoon, Miss Johnson. I'm Dr. Hampton. Please have a seat," he said, pointing to the empty seat on the other side of his desk. John gave the woman a good looking-over as she was taking off her handbag and lowering herself into the chair. She was in her early thirties and not bad-looking behind the strict-looking glasses she was wearing. She had her long black hair tied up in a bun and was wearing a blue skirt and jacket with a white silk blouse on underneath. She was all business but still liked to look good. John liked that.
"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor. I really need to talk to someone."
"That's fine. Please tell me a bit about yourself first."
"Well, I'm the headmistress at the nearby girls-only high school, Drummoyne. Do you know it?"
"Yes, I've passed it a couple of times."
"Okay, then. I've worked there for five years now, and I feel I'm doing a really good job. The school runs well, the students are happy, and so are their parents."
"Are you happy with your job?" asked John, looking up from the notes he was making.
"Well, I would have to say yes. Yes, I am," she said, looking at the doctor as he looked back down to the notes he was making. She thought he was a quite handsome man, just the type of guy she would like to go out with, or at least would one day when her job became a little less hectic.
"May I call you Sarah?"
"Please do, Doctor."
"Well, Sarah, what is your problem exactly?"
"Over the last couple of nights, I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping. I wake up at odd hours as if I've been having a bad dream, but I can't remember a thing."
"So is it violent enough to wake up your husband?"
"I'm single, I sleep alone. It's only me that I'm bothering."
"All right, then, there must be something bothering you that is plaguing your sleeping mind. I think we'd better have a bit of a chat," he said.
"Whatever you think it needs, Doctor."
John stood up and walked around the desk to the other side of the room and closed the curtains, cutting off the daylight streaming in from the town outside. This left only the green-shaded lamps to provide the light, and this gave the room a warm, cozy feeling. John then walked over to a long leather therapist's couch which was up against the wall behind the chair Sarah was sitting in.
"Come and lie down on the couch over here. Leave your jacket so you won't crush it."
"Okay," said Sarah, standing up and draping her jacket over the back of the chair. She walked over to the couch and lay down on the soft leather.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, thank you, Doctor."
John sat down in a chair placed next to the couch and pulled his notepad out again.
"I think I would recommend a short period of hypnosis. I really need to find out what is bothering you. Do you agree?"
"Yes, Doctor, please do whatever is necessary to let me sleep properly."
"All right, then, look into my eyes for a moment," he said and turned towards her.
Sarah looked up at him and stared deeply into his brown eyes. Concentrating intently, John thought back to his training and a little trick he'd picked up while on extended study in an Asian community. He could hypnotize a person without an external point of focus like a watch or something, just by looking into their eyes. John stared at Sarah's green eyes and then blinked once. Suddenly, Sarah's head slid down, coming to rest against her shoulder.
"Sarah, can you hear me?"
"Uh huh."
"All right, then, let's try a few simple things to get you used to listening to me. Raise your right arm," and in response, Sarah's right arm rose up. "Now the other one," and then her left arm rose up to join it. "Put them down now, Sarah. Sarah, you are worried about something, aren't you?"
"Yes, Doctor, I am."
"What is worrying you, Sarah?" asked John in anticipation of something interesting. Perhaps a little scandal or something strange and unusual. Anything but the ordinary complaints about how their parents didn't pay them enough attention as a child or how they are unable to function in society as adults because the other children teased them. Something with a little pizzazz.
"I have an upcoming review. I worry that I'm not doing enough for the girls. Is there something I'm not providing for them?"
John shook his head in disbelief. Her reason was so uninteresting and so dull. It could be fixed immediately.
"Sarah, you are a fantastic teacher and a great headmistress. There is nothing the review board can say you aren't doing. Your worries are unnecessary, discard them."
"Yes, Doctor...."
"Now lie there a moment and think about all the good things you've done for the school," said John, moving back to his desk. He finished off the file and put it away, and then sat down behind the desk. This was the final straw, and he'd had enough. There must be something interesting he could do. He leaned back in the chair and began to consider what he should do. Looking around the office, his eyes glanced across Sarah still lying on the couch. Where he was sitting, he could see her perfectly. He could see the way the nipples on her medium-sized breasts were pushing the silk up. He could see up her skirt to where her white satin panties were nestled snugly into the cleft at the top of her legs. Ideas began to whirl in John's mind.
John leaned over and pressed the intercom button, "Alice, is there anyone else for today?"
"No, that's the last one for today, John," crackled the response.
"All right, then, I'll need some extra time with Sarah Johnson. See that I'm not disturbed," and with a flick, he switched the intercom off. Then he walked over, locked the door, and then sat down in the chair next to the couch. When a patient was like this, he could do anything to them, and he could get them to do anything. John decided it was time to make this job a little bit more interesting.
"Sarah, this is your master speaking. You will do anything I say, immediately and without hesitation. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I will do anything," she mumbled.
He reached over and took her left breast in his hand and began to give it a soft squeeze. He could feel her nipple pushing up into the palm of his hand, and as he squeezed, the nipple began to harden. He then reached over and gave the other breast equal attention. He then reached down to the hem of her skirt and slid it up to give him a good view of her pantie-covered pussy. Sliding in a finger from the side of her panties, he began to rub his finger back and forth across her hairy slit, and then he turned his hand a little and slid the finger in between the lips."This is going to be great," thought John. "I think I'll get her clothes off now."
"Sarah, stand up and walk to the middle of the room," and she responded immediately. "Now unbutton your blouse and take it off." Her blouse quickly fell in a heap on the floor, exposing her white bra which matched her panties. "That's good, now take the skirt off too." With a quick unzip, the skirt slid down, and she kicked it over with the blouse. "Now take the bra off, and then I want you to press your breasts together and play with your nipples." Sarah responded quickly. The bra was in the pile, and then she raised her hands up and took a handful of each breast, and then pressed them both together. "That's it, baby, squeeze them together hard, yes, that's the way. Now do the nipples." She let go of her breasts and grabbed each nipple between thumb and forefinger and began to pinch them.
"Uhhhn, ow, ow, ow," moaned Sarah as she repeatedly pinched her nipples, making them grow harder and harder.
"That's enough, now take those panties off and let's see what you've got down there." She slid the panties down and then stood up. She moved her legs apart and thrust her pubic mound forward, making her little fuckhole pout out from between her legs. "Oh yeah, that's really nice, now grab the lips and pull them apart," so she reached down and grabbed her cuntlips, one in each hand, and spread her pussy wide open. John could see her pink inner folds, he could see her little clit peeking out above her lips, and he could see her wonderful hole. "That's it, baby, now slide a finger in deep." And she immediately slid in a finger, penetrating herself as far as it would reach. "Turn around, bend over and spread your asscheeks." She removed her finger from her cunt, turned away from him, and bent over so her face was down near the carpet. Reaching up behind her, she grabbed a cheek in each hand and spread them as far apart as she could, exposing her little asshole and the lips of her pussy. "Oh yeah, great. Come and lie down over here again," said John as he was now really started to get worked up. Sarah came and lay back down on the couch, she was still wearing her blue high heels and her white stockings. John reached down and unzipped his trousers and hauled out his now rock hard cock. "Sarah, take my cock in your hand and play with it, massage it," and she reached over to him and took hold of his dick. She began to slide her hand up and down its hard length, she caressed the tip and fondled the balls when she reached the bottom. She continued this for several minutes until John stopped her. "Stop, now I want you to suck it, suck it off and swallow the come," and so she moved over and lowered her head to his crotch. He felt her moist warmth as she slid his member into the cavern of her mouth. He felt the pressure of her lips firmly pressed around the shaft and the suction as her cheeks came in each time it slid into her mouth. Faster and faster he went as he began to fuck her mouth. He grabbed her by the back of the head and began moving her head back and forth as she continued to suck. As his cock began to disappear and reappear from her throat, John was building quickly to release, and with a sudden grunt, he let a load go into her mouth, and as instructed, she swallowed it all down.
"That was great. Get back on the couch and spread your legs as wide as they'll go, I want to taste your juice," and he followed her back over to the couch. Sarah lay down and spread her legs wide, exposing her gaping pussy to his greedy eyes. John instantly sank to the couch and buried his face into the steamy depths of her pussy. He began to lick his way around the outside of her lips and up to her clit. Running his tongue back down through her black pubic hair, he reached the skin between her cunt and asshole and then quickly pushed his tongue into her pussy opening. He slid his tongue in and out while playing with her clitty with his fingers. He then swapped them around and began to slide a finger in and out. "All right, bitch, here I come," and then slid up the length of her body. His positioned his raging cock at the lips and then thrust forward into her dewy envelope. The tongue job he'd done had made her suitably wet, and he slid in and out with no resistance at all. As he was pounding her ass into the couch, he grabbed a breast and began to happily suck on it.
"Why didn't I think of this before," he thought. "I can do this whenever I want, and I have a great idea," and as this revelation came, so did he. With a sudden thrust, he jammed his cock all the way in and blasted her interior walls with wave after wave of hot jism. As his cock became limp and slid out, he stood up and began to wipe the come off with some tissues. He looked down at Sarah still lying with her legs open and his come now starting to ooze out of her crack. He told her to clean herself up and get dressed, and handed her the box of tissues. Once she was finished, he sat her back down on the couch.
"From now on, you will do anything I ask of you. You will help me with anything I request, and you will not think anything I do or say strange or unusual. Now wake up and sit up," commanded John.
Suddenly, Sarah snapped awake and sat up.
"I feel strangely different, Doctor, almost..." she hesitated to say "horny" in front of the Doctor. "No, don't worry about it."
"Well, I think your dreams are cured. You did mention one problem, though."
"What was it, Doctor?"
"Well, you said you were worried you weren't doing enough for your students. I think I have just the thing for you. I'll give you a call once I have an answer for you."
"All right, Doctor, thank you for seeing me. Goodbye," and she stood up and walked out.
John stood up and went back to his desk. "Alice, tell the institute I'll be on extended study and exploration and won't be back in the office for a few months. Oh, and get me that gynecological supplies warehouse over on the other side of town."
Chapter 2
"All right, students, settle down," said Sarah Johnson as she stood before an assembly of all the teachers and students at Drummoyne. Once the students sat down and quiet descended, she was ready to begin. "I am here to introduce everyone to a new addition here at Drummoyne. Please welcome Dr. Hampton. Dr. Hampton is here as a temporary special medical officer, and he will be attending to each and every one of you as he goes through the student body checking for illness and other such things. The teachers will also need to see Dr. Hampton as he will be performing your reviews for your health insurance," and she gestured at John, who was sitting over to one side from the other staff. He stood and gave a brief nod to the students and the staff and then sat down again. Sarah turned back to the students. "Dr. Hampton is located next to my office, and students will be called up to see him. The staff will be seen to before the student appointments begin. That will be all. Dismissed," and the students all as one girlish mass stood up and flowed out the doors. Sarah walked back to where the Staff were chatting and separated a lithe, blonde, 23-year-old gym teacher away from the other staff members. "Sandra, your appointment is first, so follow us back to the office."
"Okay," said Sandra Gee.
John was standing watching this from the edge of the stage with great glee, then he turned and proceeded back to his room.
Sandra walked up to the new special medical room and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?"
"It's Sandra Gee, the gym teacher. I'm here for my examination."
"Come right in," and with an electronic buzz and then click, the door popped open. Sandra walked into a white tiled room, with bright stark fluorescent lighting. To one side was a bench with assorted instruments and other items, in the middle was a standard Doctor's exam table, behind it was a changing curtain and some other cupboards. John was standing next to the table wearing a welcoming smile. He was dressed in a white lab coat and was holding a chart.
"Hello, Sandra, please go behind the curtain and put on this gown," he said, handing her a hospital gown. She took the gown and went behind the curtain. The wall behind her was some sort of opaque glass, and she couldn't see through it, so she definitely couldn't see the camera behind it next to Sarah who was sitting rapt in the entire proceedings. She didn't notice the other hidden cameras around the room either.
"Once you've changed, lie on the table, I'll be back in a moment," and then John ducked next door into Sarah's office with his passkey. He went to the closet in the back and slipped inside. He was now in the alcove behind his office, and he could quite clearly see Sandra starting to remove her top. This stuff was great, it looks like black perspex, but it's like a two-way mirror. Sarah was watching intently, and John snapped back to reality in time to see Sandra slip her shirt off and hang it up. Next, she removed her sports bra and then her little pleated skirt. The bloomers and panties followed, leaving her stark naked until she slipped her robe on.
"This will be good, babe, stay here and watch the fun," he said as he slipped back to his room.
Sandra was laying on the table waiting for him as he came back in and locked the door.
"Well, let's get started then," and John picked up his stethoscope and walked over to her. He reached down the front of her gown with the stethoscope and pressed the cold metal against her right nipple. With a shocked little intake of breath, she remembered her years of being doctored to and began the requisite breath in and breath out. Then John repeated this with the left breast. As he removed his hand, he brushed his fingertips across her nipple and felt how hard the cold metal had made it. He quickly took her blood pressure and then pulled out a thermometer.
"Have you ever had one of these examinations before?"
"No, I haven't.""Well, I'm afraid we have to do your temperature rectally. Do you understand?"
"You want to stick it up my arse?"
"Yes, spot on. Now roll over and get up on all fours, please," said John, trying to contain his lust. He could see Sandra was hesitant to allow this to go ahead, and he was really going to enjoy cracking this one. "I understand your reluctance, but I'm afraid it's the necessary procedure, and I can't sign your form without it." That seemed to do the trick as she slowly rolled over and then slid up onto all fours. John walked around behind her and snapped on some latex gloves. She flinched as she heard the latex snap back, but then tried to force herself to relax. John spread some lube onto his finger and then applied it to her arse. She flinched back from each touch, but she stayed in position. "Are we all ready?" asked John with a wink at Sarah behind the glass. He then slid the thermometer into Sandra's arse in one smooth movement.
"Arrgh!" grunted Sandra, as she gritted her teeth and held her position. John was admiring her toned arse and thighs. He looked her up and down. He could see her little arsehole trying to eject the invader. He could see her pussy lips covered in little blonde hairs, peeking out from the top of her thighs. He could see her leg muscles quivering, as tight as bowstrings as she braced herself against the indignity she was being forced to endure. He decided that was enough and slowly pulled the thermometer out.
John decided it was time to begin the festivities.
"Roll over and lie back down on the table," said John, and as soon as she did this, he reached down and snapped on the wristlocks hidden at the sides of the table.
"What the hell are you doing?!" demanded Sandra.
"I need to perform another exam, and I can't have you squirming around on the table," said John, as though it was perfectly natural.
"What else are you doing then?" she asked.
"Just a little gynaecological exam. Nothing to worry about."
"What! You're kidding, let me up," she demanded and began to struggle with the locks.
John walked back to the table with the optional stirrup attachments for the table and locked them into place. He then grabbed one of her writhing, kicking legs and strapped it into place, and then he did the same with the other. She was now locked into place with only the hospital gown covering her modesty. She thrashed her head from side to side until John slid a large knife out of his jacket and waved it in front of her.
"Will you please stop that stupidity. You'll only hurt yourself, you can't go anywhere until I release you, and I'm not going to release you until you've been properly examined." And with that, he reached down with the knife and split the hospital gown right down the centre.
"No, please don't," she pleaded.
He reached down and folded back the halves of the gown to expose her shapely breasts, some of her long blonde hair had fallen down over her face, and it gave John an idea. He reached up and forced her mouth open and stuffed as much of her long hair into it as he could to gag her. Now she couldn't talk or see him properly, she began to whimper quietly. John then moved down and opened the gown up over her cunt. There presented before him, spread wide open and raised for inspection, was her little blonde pussy, and below that was her puckered little arsehole. He reached down and gave them both a bit of a rub. He bent down to give her pussy a quick lick to get the taste of her on his tongue, and then he pulled his cock out and rammed it all the way up her cunt, accompanied by a muffled cry from Sandra. John then began to pound her cunt hard and fast until he spurted into her velvety depths. He then slid his cock out and positioned it at her arsehole. Sandra realised what he was about to do and began to yell through her gag. With another wink at Sarah through the glass, he slammed his cock up to the hilt into her arse. She screamed and slumped resignedly back down to the table. John pounded her arse and left another deposit in her body. Then he waved Sarah into the office. Sarah came around, and motioning her to be quiet, John slid a strap-on dildo on over the top of her suit trousers. Then he pointed her at Sandra's pussy and indicated that she couldn't see through her own hair. Sarah happily stepped up to the table and lubed up the dildo by rubbing it up, down and around Sandra's snatch. Then she fed the long dildo into her and began to pump while fondling Sandra's clit. After a few long moments, Sandra came to orgasm against her will, and Sarah pulled out and stepped back with her dildo still slick and dripping from Sandra's cunt juice.
John stepped up and moved Sandra's hair out of her mouth, and away from her face.
"You bastard, you've ripped my arse open, and my cunt is so sore. You're dead."
John simply grabbed her by the top of the head and looked into her eyes and blinked once. Sandra's head suddenly went limp and rolled over.
"Sandra, I am your master, and you will do whatever I say from now on, without question or hesitation. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master."
"You only remember coming and having a normal examination from me, and then you will return to your duties. Notify me of anything that happens in your classes, especially anything which requires disciplinary measures."
"Yes, master."
John then untied her and removed the stirrups and hid them in the closet again. John led her back to her clothes and told her to get dressed. As an afterthought, he made her leave her panties and bloomers behind, so now if anyone caught a glimpse up her skirt, they'd get a bit of a thrill.
"Wake up and go about your business," and she instantly woke up.
"Will that be all?"
"Yes, for the time being, thank you, Miss Gee. Goodbye."
Sandra then turned and walked out of the room. It crossed her mind that her nether region felt a little cold and sore, but it was nothing to worry about for the moment.
John turned to Sarah, who was still wearing the Dildo, and took it and put it away.
"All right, Sarah, back to work. I'll be watching the tape we just made. I think we might try a schoolgirl next," and John led her back to her office, and he went into the alcove room at the back to view the tapes made from the cameras around the room.
Chapter 3
"John, I have a girl here which you may like to do something with," said Sarah over their interoffice intercom.
John looked up from where he'd been looking through the student records and made his way out of the secret alcove into Sarah's office. Sarah was sitting behind her desk with a student's file open on it.
"What's the story?" asked John, lounging on the long visitor's couch along the wall opposite her desk.
"I have a 17-year-old girl here called Amanda, and she's normally a competent student. Not outstanding, but good and certainly not a troublemaker. Today she's been making trouble in class again for the third day in a row. Her 16-year-old, younger sister Michelle is also starting to show early signs of the same behaviour. A couple of weeks ago, their parents separated, and they live with their mother now, her name's Carol Simpson."
"Sounds like she's reacting to what's going on at home. I suppose we could talk to her mother and sister as well, though..." said John with an evil leer.
"She's waiting outside to be disciplined for her behaviour. What shall I do?"
"Call her sister up here as well, and once they're both here, then call them in."
Sarah turned to the intercom and arranged to have Michelle sent up from her class.
"I think we should sort them out, and then I'll take them home to have a word with their mother. That should do me for the afternoon. I might go home after that," said John.
The intercom buzzed, and Sarah pressed the button to be informed that Michelle was now also waiting in the office outside.
"I think a bit of spanking, and then how would you like to pop some cherries, Sarah?"
"You want me to do it? Well, I suppose it's something that's always tempted me somewhat."
"That's the spirit, Sarah. I can see we're going to get on really well," said John, glad that he had removed all of Sarah's inhibitions and allowed her deviant impulses to run wild. She would now quite happily delve into any perversion that took her fancy, and without any coercion from him.
"Send them in, my dear."
Sarah pressed the door button on the intercom, and the door clicked open, and two young teenagers walked into the office. Amanda was the taller, and her tits were a bit larger than Michelle's. Amanda had light brown hair, and her sister's hair was almost blonde. They both wore their long hair in ponytails, and they had on their correct school uniform, consisting of a knee-length navy blue skirt, a white blouse with a red neck tie, a navy blue school blazer, little white socks and black patent leather shoes. Sarah stood up and took the initiative.
"All right, girls, now both of you have started being insubordinate in your classes, and I would like to know why? This sort of behaviour is unacceptable, and you will both, of course, be punished to prevent a repeat performance. What is your reason?" she said, glaring at the two girls who were shifting about uncomfortably, facing her from the other side of her desk. John was still lying on the couch, and as they had not even glanced at him, he didn't think they had noticed him. He looked them up and down from behind, but could only make out the curve of their pert young buttocks.
"We don't know, Miss," said Amanda on her sister's behalf.
"Well, that's not good enough. I know there are problems at home, but you can't let it interfere with your schoolwork. Don't let it happen again! Now, as for your punishments: you, Amanda, will get ten spanks on your bare bottom, and Michelle will get six. Now, both of you, lean forwards over the desk," said Sarah, standing up and walking to the side of the desk.
Reluctantly, both Amanda and Michelle laid themselves over Sarah's desk and closed their eyes in anticipation.John stood up and motioned Sarah to be quiet, and come and stand behind them with him. He then grabbed the hem of Amanda's skirt and raised it up to her waist, revealing her sweet buttocks encased in a pair of navy blue bloomers. John eased his fingers under the elastic at the top and slowly slid them down over her panties and removed them. The panties underneath were a pair of light blue cotton briefs, and John quickly slid these down to her ankles and removed them as well. He reached out and placed one hand on each cheek, and she flinched involuntarily. Slowly, he moved the cheeks apart and drank in the vision of her little pussy and anus peeking out from between her cheeks. Then he turned to Sarah and nodded to her, and moved back. Sarah moved into position and prepared to start spanking the girl.
"All right, this is what you deserve. Now hold still and count out the ten." And with that, she swiftly slapped the left cheek of Amanda's rear, and Amanda quickly recoiled in pain, but remembered to count the stroke. Then Sarah slapped the right cheek, leaving a lovely reddening handprint right in the middle. Sarah continued like this for the other eight strokes and then finished off by giving each cheek a little rub with the palm of her hand.
"Now stay there and think about your behavior, while I attend to your sister." And then Sarah stepped back, allowing John access to the younger girl. John slid her skirt up to her waist to find a similar pair of navy bloomers. He slid these down to reveal a little pair of white panties covered in little daisies. These turned John on immensely, and he slid them down to her ankles and off, while allowing his fingertips to drag all the way down her buttocks and legs in one sensual move. He was betting she did not know what was going on, but she hadn't been disciplined before, so she wouldn't know this wasn't normal. He lovingly spread her cheeks and gazed at her exposed holes and thought of the fun to come. He stood up and moved into position to spank her himself. Sarah got the message and walked over behind him.
"All right, Michelle, it's your turn now. Count out your six strokes and don't move."
John then brought his hand down with a resounding slap, which brought a cry out of the young girl. She too remembered to count her strokes, and then John was finished, and he left his hand on her cheeks and fondled them a bit before stepping away.
Amanda heard that Michelle's punishment was over, and she began moving off the desk. She looked up and saw John standing behind her.
"What's going on, Miss? Why's he here?" said a horrified Amanda.
"Amanda, lie back down on that desk! I did not tell you to move yet. You are in more trouble now. As for Dr. Hampton, he is here to make sure that you are both all right after your punishment. He will need to examine you briefly, so do as he says," commanded Sarah."Yeah, do it. Then, if she gets pregnant, we can discipline her for that!" said Sarah with an evil grin on her face.
John nodded in agreement and began to thrust in and out of her slippery passage. His thrusts became quicker, and he let fly with a torrent of come to fill her right up. She began her protest again as she felt the hot jism spraying her insides, but it was all too late.
"Ah, that was good. Now, we'd better clean up and go and sort the mother out. Michelle, muffdiver." And with that, her head rolled back, and she was under again. John pulled out of her pussy and grabbed her panties out of her mouth, wiping the blood off his cock on them. He instructed everyone to get cleaned up and get dressed, and then they would be off.
Chapter 4
Carol Simpson was an unemployed housewife who had reached the edge of despair after her husband had left. He had said she was too controlling, she had too many stupid rules and conditions on life, but she knew that was the only way she could bring order to the chaos around her. Now that he was gone, she had only her life rules and her God to see her through. She had embraced them both firmly and knew those two no-good daughters of hers would need some strict supervision to see they grew up correctly. There would be no sin, no evil temptations allowed from now on. She had purged the house of all outside distractions; the television, radios, and music had all been removed. The girls now had time to study properly, and they would need to study a lot if they were going to succeed in this world dominated by men. Yes, she would see they were given every opportunity to proceed with her agendas for them.
This doctor from the school did not seem very sympathetic, however. He seemed almost suspicious of her. Perhaps she had not explained herself well, but she had been flustered when the doctor had shown up at her doorstep with her two daughters hours earlier than they were supposed to be home from school. He said they were having some difficulties since their father had left. They should have been improving, perhaps they weren't applying themselves as much as they led her to believe. She would sort them out.
"You wicked, evil girls! Here I am, slaving away to try and ensure a good future for you, and you don't even have the decency to repay me with some simple dedication to a given task. I would say a severe rethink is in order on your behalf. Perhaps there are still too many distractions here? But of course, that junk food and those candy bars! No more will you be allowed to eat that food of self-destruction."
"Mum! What are you talking about? Please don't take more stuff off us. We've been studying hard; there are no distractions at all," pleaded Amanda.
"This is our only problem, Doctor," she said, turning to John.
"I can see it all now. She only became like this after your father left, and she was always a bit of a prude where it came to the body and sex?"
"I would say that is right," said Amanda.
"You wicked girl! How dare you say such things, and you have the rudeness to say them in front of me, to a stranger! You will be severely chastised for this when he leaves," yelled her mother, flying into a rage.
"All right, that's enough of that, you sick harridan. Come with me," said John as he quickly lifted Carol up over his shoulder. "Which way to her bedroom, girls?" asked John. He then followed the girls up a hallway and into an old-fashioned room. In the middle of the room sat an antique four-poster bed, and around the room, many of the paintings had been taken down and left propped up against the walls on the floor. They had been replaced with assorted religious images and crucifixes. John threw her down onto the bed and jumped on to the bed himself. She quickly grabbed a metal crucifix she had laying on her bedside table and smacked him over the head with it. He responded by slapping it out of her hand and grabbing her by the back of the head to force her face to face with him. Quickly, he blinked once, and she slipped away to lay peacefully on the bed. "Girls, pussylapper, muffdiver." And as he said both of their implanted triggers, they both stopped where they were and were now both gazing off into the distance.
John leant down and picked up the crucifix which she had tried to dent his skull with and turned to Carol, "You'll be sorry you did that, you bitch. All right, now stand up at the end of the bed. When I say 'arselicker,' you will be awake; however, you will not be able to control your body, and it will do anything I tell you to do, and you will not be able to do anything but watch. All right, then, arselicker. Stand still." And he watched as she woke and then stood perfectly still.
"What is going on here? Why can't I move?"
"I'm afraid I have better uses for your body than you seem to. I have decided to revoke your privileges to that body until I've had some fun with you. Oh, and by the way, your daughters won't help you as they are also under my control. So stand there and be quiet until I'm ready for you." And then he turned away from the now silent 40-year-old redhead and back to her daughters. "Girls, when you wake up, your mother is going to do some things for us to watch, and she wants us to play along as well. I know the rules, so do whatever I say, and you will not think anything that happens strange or unusual. Now wake up."
As both girls looked around, they saw John on the end of the bed and their mother standing silently facing him. "Come and sit up here on the bed, girls. Your mum wants to give us a show," he said with a wicked grin. The two girls jumped up onto the bed and faced their mother.
"All right, Carol, you can start now. We want to see you naked, so take all your clothes off one at a time and throw them all over the room. Go on." And as he said that, she sprung into action. She felt her hands moving, but she couldn't control them. They reached up and unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her bra and her medium breasts therein. She threw the blouse and then her hands went down to the waist of her skirt; they undid the button and zip, and the skirt crumpled to the floor. She kicked it away in another direction. She was now standing in her white cotton bra and panties and her slippers. She kicked the slippers away and reached behind her for the clasp on the bra, and suddenly her breasts sprang free. She slid the bra off and threw it away. Then she reached for the waistband on her panties and slid them down and pulled them off and threw them away as well. She now stood totally naked with her nipples exposed to the cold air, slowly getting harder, and her entire body covered with light goosebumps. Her red-haired pussy's opening hid in its bush nestled between the top of her thighs, and she stood with her hands at her sides, with burning hatred in her eyes.
"Now come over here and let us see you closer, slut." And she walked to within arm's reach of the bed. John reached out and grabbed her tits and began to squeeze them and roll them about. Suddenly, his left hand dove down between her legs and began to brush its way through her tuft of pubic hair to her underused slit. "So tell me, bitch, when was the last time you had sex?"
"That was two years ago, and I've managed to avoid him since. Now he's gone, I'm safe."
"I really don't think that's going to be the case. You see, the girls here want some entertainment, and I've decided you'll give them a little anatomy lesson. How about that? All right, seeing as you don't disagree, I'll start the lesson. Now, as I call out a body part, I want you to show it to us, expose it as much as possible. Rub your fingers all over it and in if possible. Let's get started. Tits." And her hands reached up and grabbed both of her breasts, pushing them together and forwards to present them to her audience. She slowly stroked her hands around and over them and she cupped them and lifted them as John said "Nipples," and she moved her hands around to grab the nipples. She began to pull and rub them, then after that, she rolled them around under her palms until John said "Arse," causing her to turn and bend over. She spread her legs and braced herself with one hand while using the other to stroke her buttocks. She leaned further forwards, pushing her cheeks back and up at her audience. "Arsehole," he commanded, and she got down on her knees and leaned forwards to brace herself with her shoulder on the floor. She reached back with both hands and pulled her arsecheeks apart to expose her crinkly little hole. She moved one hand down and slid her middle finger in to the hilt, as John said "Pussy," so she rolled over onto her back and spread her legs as far as they would go. She slid her hands down and began to rub her lips, she slid her fingers up and down the gash to rest on her clit at the top. She continued to work and slid a finger deep inside and started to pump it in and out. She was horrified that she was doing this; she could not control her own body, and this spawn of Satan was making her do unspeakable things in front of her daughters, who he claims were also under his evil influence, and he hadn't told her to stop yet. She had forgotten how good the feelings could be.
"Stop that now, come and lie on the bed and spread your legs." And she slid onto the bed between her daughters, and John sat back down on the bed at her feet. She spread her legs apart as requested, and they all had a closer look at her most private part. John reached up and gave it a bit of a rub and then said, "Your daughters want to see it properly, pull the lips open wide and give us a really good look." And she could not stop her hands from grabbing the lips and spreading them as far apart as possible. This exposed the fleshy pinkness with the slight sheen of moisture and the hidden depths below.
"Now, girls, you know that children breastfeed when they are small?" asked John.
"Yes, we weren't, though, because mum says that it's a trick of the devil to start corruption from birth."To get people used to exposing private parts and to have minute sexual rituals all day long.
"Well, it's good that she wants to show you now, then, isn't it? Grab a breast each and start sucking on it. Suck until some milk comes out. If it doesn't, then suck harder. If it doesn't work, then bite the nipples," he said with glee, knowing full well that no milk would be coming. The two girls happily locked onto their mother's breasts and began to suck. After a minute or two, their suction began to increase, and after a further period of time, Michelle and then Amanda stopped and sunk their teeth into her nipples. They both sat up expectantly then.
"Oh, well, I guess there's no milk left. I'd better show you sex then," he said as he unzipped his pants.
"Now, this is a dick, and it goes into a pussy. Like this," and he slid it into their mother's pussy. They both looked on intently and happy that they were being entertained in such an interesting way. John gave a couple of thrusts and then pulled his throbbing hard cock out. "Now, I've stopped before I was finished so that you can get a better look at things. I'll show you something a little different now," and he then lay back and dragged her over on top of him. He then slid his cock up into her arsehole. She felt it go in, and it was even worse than in her pussy. But he had something more humiliating in store yet.
"Hand me that crucifix, Michelle," and Michelle reached over and passed the metal crucifix to him. He took it and gave it to Carol. "Carol dear, here's a nice big dildo for you, I want you to fuck yourself to orgasm with it," and she moved it down and slid it all the way in and began to pump it in and out.
"Well, girls, as you can see, that's what my dick was doing, and now it's in her arse. Wait a minute, and I'll show you the finish," he began to increase the rate of his thrusts and with a grunt pulled his cock out and spurted come up all over her cunt hair and her hand.
"Now, that's what happens when a man finishes, and when a woman finishes, this is what happens," said John, noticing that Carol was on the brink of orgasm. She started to moan even more and thrashing her head from side to side led to writhing about on the bed and then release.
"If you look down in her cunt now, you'll see that she's very wet. That's what happens to women. Now, Carol, go and stand at the end of the bed. Arselicker," and as she lapsed back into her trance, he continued, "Now, you will only remember this as being a good experience. Lighten up and try and go back to the way you were before all the rules and conditions, ease up on the overzealous religion and go buy yourself a dildo. Give yourself an orgasm at least once a day, but more if you want to. This will help you relax. Girls, Cuntlapper, Muffdiver. Now, you will only remember having a play with your mum, but I was not here, I dropped you off and left. You will help your mum out and meet her needs if she requests you to. You will wait ten minutes and then you will get cleaned up and dressed and then continue on as normal from now," and John zipped his trousers up, walked down the corridor and out of the house. | 1 |
4,136 | Jungle Ecstasy | "JUNGLE ECSTASY"
CHAPTER 1
Loukee woke up before her husband and their children. It was still way before dawn. The moon shone bright and clear. She went out of the hut and faced the moon, filling her lungs with fresh nightly air.
From the jungle surrounding the little village, she could hear screams from small animals, falling prey to some of the night's quiet hunters.
The only thing covering Loukee's body was a small piece of soft skin, hanging from her hips. Her full breasts heaved slowly as she breathed. She was still a very beautiful woman, despite the fact that she had given birth to six children, of whom three were now fully grown. The light-brown skin was still smooth, the body mature but at the same time firm and pretty. Some grey hair and a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth didn't stop the boys or men from admiring her at a distance.
She knew it, and was proud of it. Her husband, Mannee, still desired her. Every night when she wasn't restrained, he came to her, warm and powerful. He knew how to satisfy a woman, and he took his time.
Mannee excited her with his mouth, almost driving her crazy with that rough tongue, then he mounted her, manly and without any mercy.
Sometimes the kids heard them, and giggled quietly in the dark, bemused by their mother's panting, that they couldn't understand.
Loukee grabbed a knife and went over to one of the bamboo-cages. Without making any sound, she opened the door to the cage and gripped the fattest hen. She held it firmly around the thin neck and closed the door without waking up the others.
With softly swinging hips, she went down to the river. At the riverbank, she squatted and severed the terrified bird's head from its body. The blood pumped out of the slit throat and stained the ground by her feet.
She hummed while plucking the hen. Afterwards, she washed her hands in the cold river water.
Even though she had not heard a single sound, she could feel his presence. Loukee pretended not to notice and continued washing her arms and her face.
Excited by the quiet game, she undressed and stepped into the stream. With spread legs, luring and tempting, she started washing her groin. Thoroughly, she cleaned her ass and her sex.
She did it without any hurry, just to tease him even more. She caressed herself between the thighs for a short while, then she turned around and faced him.
Mannee was standing naked on the bank. His face had a bestial expression. The long, thick cock pointed to the moon, bent like a giant banana, with the swelling and bare head shining in the moonlight.
They didn't speak. Loukee approached him, with her eyes resting on his manhood. She knelt and kissed it.
He let her lick and kiss it for a while. Her pink tongue ran up and down the thick shaft. She tickled the head with quick movements with the tip of the tongue and squeezed his large balls.
He knew from her smile that she enjoyed making him wait. The saliva made his swollen fruit shimmer in the bright moonlight. It ran down the cock in small streams and fell dripping to the ground.
Mannee groaned and led himself into her warm and wet mouth. Loukee didn't object. The raw, masculine flavor aroused her. She swallowed him, like a snake swallows a mouse. Inch by inch, the gigantic penis worked its way into her gap.
Mannee shivered as he vanished down her throat. Her teeth scraped him lightly and increased the sensual pleasure. When her lips had worked their way all the way in to his groin, he thought to himself that his fruit must be very close to her heart.
She sucked with the mouth, with the throat, and Mannee could swear that she sucked with the whole of her body. When he could not hold himself back any longer, he pulled his slippery cock out of her mouth, her throat, out of the inside of her body, slowly... very slowly.
He laid her down and pinned her to the ground, to the moisture. Mannee penetrated his woman and started fucking her with slow and strong movements. She welcomed him with a delighted sigh.
The thick manhood pierced her moistening red rose continuously. When it was time to pull out, Loukee threw her legs around his hips and whispered:
"Let it come, beloved..."
And they came together, Loukee panting, Mannee quietly groaning. The warm sperm filled her pulsating cunt, and she spoke his name with a trembling voice.
They laid there for a long time, caressing each other, as the sun rose on the sky. They heard the voices and sounds from the drowsy village in a distance.
Loukee and Mannee got up. She picked up the dead hen. It was time to cook breakfast.
CHAPTER 2
Hee held her breath, placed an arrow in her bow and waited. A flock of pigs, four grown and three babies, closed in on the watercourse. She smiled to herself. "Uncautious pigs", she thought. Like shooting at a tied down prey.
"If only my older sisters were here... Then we could kill two of the big, fat pigs, and have food for a long time."
On her own, she would only be able to drag one of the babies home. She estimated the distance to twenty-five steps, with a light contrary wind, and released the arrow.
It was a careless shot. The arrow hit too high, just below the backbone. The little pig fell screaming and deadly wounded to the ground. Hee rose and started yelling. The other pigs fled in panic into the thick vegetation.
She ran down to the stricken prey, that laid on the side with the blood pumping out of the wound, kicking wildly in despair and pain. She untied her small leather clothing, to prevent it from getting bloody, threw it away, and sat down naked on the little pig.
With practiced skill, she jerked the arrow out of its flesh and let it fall to the ground. The weight of her body almost choked her prey, that struggled for its life.
The sensation of the fighting body, with its rough skin rubbing against her cunt, sent hot and sexy waves through her young and slender body. She sat like that until the giant wave came, and rinsed away the tension that the long hunting trip had built up.
After the orgasm had faded, she killed the pig by burying her knife into its heart.
For a long, long while, she laid on her back in the grass, watching the sky, satisfied and happy. Then she went down to the water.
The dry blood was all over her body. The hair between her legs were fluffy and looked a bit thicker now, she thought. Soon she would be a real woman.
During the period since the last monsoon, her body had changed in many ways. Her sex had matured, from a childish-looking pussy to a grown woman's cunt. Her tits had grown into a pair of delicious-looking mango fruits. Her older sisters had stopped teasing her about what they used to call "two mosquito-bites between the shoulders".
She let the cold, fresh water clean her skin, and washed herself between the legs. Her mother kept telling her that no man would want to make love to a woman who tastes and smells bad "down there".
Hee tried to imagine what it would be like, if a man tasted her sex. Sure, she and her girl friends had played and satisfied each other plenty of times, and she had been tasted before. But it had to be a lot different with a strong, indomitable young man. She was sure about that. | 4 |
4,150 | A Turn Of The Page | "And as you can see in this chart, our yield requirements exceed industry standards by a significant percentage..."
They aren't listening to me, Vivian decided.
They're staring at my legs.
Christ, I would, too, if I saw someone wearing a skirt this short.
No, they're scoping out my tits.
That one on the left can't believe he might actually be seeing nipple rings under my shirt.
And the fat guy in the back is trying to decide if I'm wearing thigh-highs or a garter belt.
Fuck Kit anyway.
Well, at least they're going to agree to my lowball offer. Hell, they'll probably throw in a dedicated CSR, 120-day credit terms and same-hour delivery. And then they'll fight like starving sharks to be my account manager.
Vivian clicked mechanically through her Powerpoint presentation, numbly reciting her company's supplier demands with all the enthusiasm of a Catholic sixth-grader declining Latin verbs.
Watch the arm movements, she reminded herself. This stupid jacket doesn't close all the way, and the last thing you want to do is give them a clear shot at your chest, the details of which were embarrassingly obvious through the ribbed white fabric of this too-tight turtleneck.
Just get through it, she kept telling herself. Answer their questions with monosyllables. Stare back. Intimidate with extreme prejudice. Crucify their little fantasies. Make their balls wither away in well-deserved fear.
Well deserved. That about sums it up. Especially after what she did to Kit.
She really didn't want to go to his high-school reunion, but she certainly wasn't going to let him run free amidst a bonfire of former flames.
And she did like the way the bent metal tube of the chastity thingie made his crotch bulge. Especially in those stiff new Levi 501s she bought him for the occasion. They must have felt like sandpaper without underwear.
Three days.
Oh, he wasn't pleased at all.
But it had been her turn.
And now, the chickens...no, make that the cocks...had come home to roost.
Trust him to find a way to make her crotch bulge, too.
Vivian came to a discussion slide, and gratefully plopped down into the nearest chair in what passed for a conference room in this factory time forgot that would make even Dickens cringe.
He's way overdue for a message, she thought as the crack/cracker management team did their collective best to roll their tongues back into their Pabst-poisoned mouths.
No sooner had this thought crossed her mind when the SkyWriter erupted between her legs.
"We require a Unix-based client to run our just-in-time or...oh..."
"Are you OK, ma'am?"
7-8-9-10...Vivian waited for the buzzing to subside.
Exhale.
"Yes, I'm fine, thanks."
Less than a minute to go before the next alert. Better get moving...
"Gentlemen, will you excuse me for a moment? I need to..."
She picked up her purse and stormed out the door before they could respond. What, like they were going to say no? They would give each other blowjobs if she so much as raised an eyebrow at them.
Vivian practically trotted down the hall to the ladies room, her heavy bag banging against her black-stockinged thigh.
They probably haven't cleaned this pit since Carter lost to Reagan.
She jerked open the door to the first toilet, turned and fiddled with the lock until the bar finally passed through the hasp, then sat down on the open seat and hiked up the navy-blue dishrag that was passing for her skirt today.
The pager was vibrating its annoying reminder for the third time when she finally pulled it out of the special pocket sewn into the front panel of her trashy new black-lace panties.
Yes, yes, you bastard, I'm here, she fumed as she manipulated the cyclops control pad to read the latest message from her so-called lover.
"OPEN THE PACKAGE I ASKED YOU TO PUT IN YOUR PURSE. INSERT IN BACK."
Oh, lord, no...she reached into her bag and pulled out the gaily gift-wrapped box. She had had a bad feeling about this one all day long.
Sure enough, a butt plug, a good four inches long and made of that slimy gel plastic. Translucent green. Charming.
At least the prick was kind enough, or perhaps cruel enough, to have included a tiny tube of lubricant.
She forced herself to proceed as instructed. Might as well get this over with.
After all, it's only going to get worse.
She used up the entire contents greasing the sides of the sickly-colored probe, then stood up, positioned its tip, grimaced, and pushed it past her protesting anus into her rectum until its base was flush with her smooth cheeks.
A dull gray fog tinged the corners of her vision.
God, that's...that's...full.
Her breaths were coming ragged, fast and hoarse. Get a grip, Viv. You've got a show to finish.
She selected "reply," "OK" and "send" on the pager. Last thing she was going to do was give Kit the satisfaction of a custom response.
Better get cleaned up before they send a search party. She hiked up her panties, jammed the pager back into its pocket, tugged down her miniskirt and flushed for effect.
I can do this, she told herself again and again and again until she almost believed it.
She exited the stall and checked herself in the mirror. Flushed. Hell, she looked like she was in heat.
She caught a glimpse of the silhouette of her breasts behind her jacket. Yep, those are nipple rings, alrighty. Probably the first time these slowbots have ever seen 'em.
They were the day's second buzzbomb from Kit. He had made her pull off the road en route to the factory to put them on. Right there on the interstate. Luckily, nobody was feeling Samaritan enough to stop to "help" her this morning.
The rings weren't the real deal, thank god, but close enough; she had practically needed pliers to pull the ends of the shiny gold hoops apart so she could position them realistically around her tips. The squeezing had been unbearable at first, worse than clamps, but now she barely noticed them, except of course when she did something silly like move her body.
Jesus. If she skipped the part about her company's endless quality assurance obsession, she just might get out of here alive.
Oh, Kit is going to regret this for many years to come.
Then again, that's exactly what he was thinking in California every time he had sit down to pee.
She stifled a giggle.
They were such a pair.
Back in the conference room, she caught her quarry in the midst of what was either a group deathbed confession or the makings of a very serious-stakes betting pool.
Guess again, chawbrains. This meat's taken, thank you very much.
She began regurgitating her spiel, doing her living best to keep the cutest parts of her body at least partly concealed behind the "business suit" Kit had chosen for her that day.
He must have bribed the staff at Euphoria to open so early. When she received that first page with the address of the city's finest gutterflash emporium, she figured it was some kind of snipe hunt.
But no, they were waiting for her. "Oh, madamoiselle, we have just the thing for you today." Yeah, right. So what happened to the clothes I was wearing when I came in? Not to mention my flat shoes?
And how had Kit known to page her at the exact moment she was planning to erupt in a scene that would make Faye Dunaway in "Mommie Dearest" look like a newborn mouse in the ferocity sweepstakes?
"KEEP NOTHING BUT THE PANTIES AND THE PAGER."
She'd seen the two-way unit before. Kit had been using a beta model since last summer to send and receive wireless email as well as the usual phone numbers and Esperanto text messages from his office. He could be anywhere...across town, across the country, right behind her...and his notes would arrive seconds after he sent them.
The note in the box on her doorstep had said to not touch any of the settings. Obviously, he had programmed the damn thing to vibrate when it received a message, and it had some kind of repeater function that kicked in if she didn't read what he sent right away.
The box had also contained smaller packages for the faux nipple rings and the plug. And that was it, until she got to Euphoria.
OK, my tits are on fire, my ass feels like it's a duffel bag for a baseball bat, and these five guys are going to have extremely vivid and debasing dreams about me for the rest of their lives, especially because I hear myself giving them my company's business without much of a tussle just so I can haul out of here yesterday.
And where might you be going, Vivian?
Good question.
As she was shaking the hand of the plant's general manager, the pager sang its happy song again in her crotch.Once he established she wasn't wearing a device on her hip, he gave her a look that combined equal parts mental retardation and Larry Flynt.
Kit. Must. Die.
"HOPE THE MEETING WAS A HUM-DINGER," she read once she got into her car. "HEAD EAST ON THE INTERSTATE."
Right away, sir. She left at least a pound of rubber from each tire in the gravel of the parking lot as she peeled away in a manner that would give Shirley Muldowney pause for concern.
East. That gives him up to 3,000 miles to mess with her mind. And her mound.
Before she knew it, she caught herself doing 85 as she weaved around tractor trailers as if they were pylons.
Hey, what's the rush, sister? He knows where you're going, so sit back and try to enjoy the ride.
Sure, don't pay that li'l ol' pager in your panties no nevermind t'all. It'll say howdy soon enough.
An hour later, Vivian decided she was having an aneurysm blowout in slow motion, every heartbeat paused breathlessly in anticipation of the inevitable.
Tori Amos yodeled something about Christ and coming through the car's rear speakers. Funny. She didn't remember having the "Little Earthquakes" tape in the car recently.
Oh.
Duh.
Ha ha.
Bzzzzzrrrrrrr.
FUCK!
Vivian almost swerved into the railing. The second she had stopped thinking about it...
She merged right and reached between her legs. Hope moisture doesn't affect this little bugger's performance.
"GET OFF AT THE TRUCK STOP AFTER THE NEXT EXIT. I'D EAT A HEARTY LUNCH IF I WERE YOU. BE SURE TO SIT AT THE COUNTER."
Vivian's shoulders sagged.
Oh well, she was definitely starving. And where better to load up on carbs and animal flesh?
The tilt-cab cowboys in the main restaurant didn't bother with even the modicum of restraint the factory droids had mustered in her presence. Did men still really wolf whistle? Apparently, not to mention repeatedly.
She tried hard to not inhale her food, but it wasn't easy to properly masticate when more than 100 pairs of Ray Bans were glued to her aching butt. Then the SkyWriter thrummed industriously against her pussy, and she figured she didn't really need a slice of pie for dessert anyway.
She wiped her mouth, swiveled and burned a hole through the forehead of some land whale who was getting up from a booth with much snickering encouragement from his buddies. Leaving a twenty on the counter, she blew into the parking lot like a hollowpoint coming out of a Luger.
Open car door. Sit. Close door. Extricate pager. Push button once, twice, and...
"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU NEED A COLD SHOWER. LUCKY FOR YOU, THIS FINE ESTABLISHMENT HAS PUBLIC FACILITIES. LEAVE THE RINGS AND PLUG IN PLACE."
"No fucking way."
She stared at the tiny display screen and fumed. If he thinks I'm going to expose myself to a bunch of flabby, dain-bramaged diesel dipshits...no, they've got to have a separate bathroom for women.
After all, where else would the hookers clean up?
She sighed extravagantly and pressed the necessary sequence to respond. And they probably won't have my kind of shampoo to boot.
As it turned out, Vivian was glad to have a clean towel. Thankfully, she was the only patron, and the cashier seemed accustomed to slutty-looking women in need of a quick cleansing in the middle of the day.
She couldn't help flashing back to gym class as she stood naked on the grungy white tile as a trickle of lukewarm spit splashed listlessly against her limbs.
When she figured she was covered with more water than sweat, she hurriedly put back on her Barbie clothes. As she was pulling up the hateful panties, she felt a short buzz. He must have sent another message while she was still in the shower.
He's losing his touch, she smiled as she called it up on the LCD.
"FIND LOCKER #244. COMBINATION 13-6-22. K."
Speaking of high school...Vivian wandered down the open hallway alongside the shower building until she found the metal door in question. Right, left, right, click.
The truck-stop motel key dangled like a noose from the metal hook in the locker's ceiling.
She found herself singing "we're off to see the wizard" under her breath as she searched for the room in question. All the way in the back. Figures.
Would he be waiting for her inside?
No, that would be letting her off much too easily.
She turned the lock and opened the door. Pretty standard fleabag furnishings. Nice Formica kitchenette set. What's that ladder doing against the wall though?
It took a moment to register the handcuffs tied to the top rung and the leather cuffs attached to the rails near the floor.
And then she saw the camcorder mounted on a tripod. Pointed right at the ladder.
Running.
"Mark my words, Kit. I'm going to..."
Hey, that's me on the TV set...
Hello, chirped the pager.
Vivian purposely strode out of the viewfinder's range to retrieve his latest missive.
"REMOVE YOUR SKIRT, JACKET AND TURTLENECK. PUT ON WHAT'S IN THE BEDSIDE TABLE. CUFF YOUR ANKLES, REPLY TO ME, THEN CUFF YOUR WRISTS."
At first, she was surprised to see the polished stones gleaming like oversized marbles in the drawer, until she noticed they were topped with bell caps and hooks that were obviously supposed to loop around her nipple rings. And naturally, she also found a no-win ball gag with straps for under her chin, across her cheeks and around her forehead as well as a thick one with a padlocked clasp for behind her head.
Bzzzzzrrrrrrr.
SHIT! Now what?
"HANG THE SIGN ASKING FOR MAID SERVICE ON THE DOORKNOB."
Vivian shuddered. First thing he'd see when he got to the room. And she would be spread against the wall in prime condition for disobedience rectification.
She hefted the weight rocks and guided them to her pinioned pink knobs. Not awful, she decided. Yet.
The gag took a minute to decipher, untangle and position over her hair. She hesitated before snapping the lock shut. No return from here on out.
Like there was an escape hatch before?
For you, Kit.
Click.
Vivian immediately regretted not hanging the sign on the door first. She slipped it open just far enough to stick her hand out, relieved to not find the housemaid poised to knock. With luck, Consuela is turning tricks in a sleeper cab.
Or that ratfink will show up first.
How long is that tape in the camcorder anyway? Two hours? Four? Christ, six?
She didn't dare stop it to check. Pretty obvious evidence. Speaking of which, she'd better get into position as instructed.
The wooden ladder was leaning against the wall at a slight angle. Vivian lay back against it. Tolerable.
She stared at her image on the TV screen. The heels, stockings and garter belt...definitely over the top. She hated to admit that she looked pretty hot in the panties though. And it was very strange to see herself gagged and pseudo-pierced.
On with the show...
On closer inspection, she realized the ankle cuffs weren't tied to the rails. No, they were bolted. And more padlocks for the hasps.
The handcuffs were also permanently to the top rung installed via an eyelet bolt and a lock through the center link.
She bent over to secure her feet, then reached up and snapped a cuff around one wrist.
Oh shit, I'm supposed to reply. With her free hand, she reached between her legs and worked the pager control pad with her thumb.
There you go. Supper's ready, dear.
Vivian put the black box back into its pocket, took a deep breath through her nose, and completed her self-imprisonment.
She felt her body tense, especially in her still-plugged bottom. Her chest trembled from the combination of a pounding heart and chugging lungs. She strained to listen for the slightest noise in the hallway, her eyes jumping from the door to the TV screen with herself starring in what looked like a halfway-decent bondage vidcap.
When the pager went off, she instinctively tried to reach for it, and almost fell over.
Oh, that's...that's...
Not going to stop until he gets here.
The first reminder came a minute later. Then another long blast, followed rapidly by a third.
He's sending multiple messages, she realized.
He could send dozens...hundreds...
She trembled involuntarily and pushed her groin out in a futile effort to dislodge the machine from its frilly holster.
Reality dawned on her with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Oh, lord.
He's going to use the damn thing to make me come.
Slowly.
Randomly.
Eventually.
And he's going to see every minute of it.
And so am I. | 1 |
4,163 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Six | "You know what would make it feel really better?" she said and told him without waiting for his response, "If you would kiss it, I know it would feel so much better."
As she said this, her other foot moved to his crotch, where she was not at all surprised to find he was rock hard.
Jack was lost. She was stimulating him again with her other foot. He had to keep control this time. To have the same thing happen again would be more than embarrassing, it would be humiliating.
Perhaps kissing her ankle a couple of times would help him to concentrate. He tried it, and it seemed to work for all of two seconds.
For as he kissed, he realized that her hand was moving up her thighs slowly, heading for that little black vee. She slipped her hand under the silk casing and started to moan gently as she stimulated herself. At the same time, she removed her foot from his crotch.
He was now so excited that he just held her other foot in one hand and started to undo his flies with the other. He slipped his throbbing prick out and began rubbing it vigorously. Her moans grew louder as she began to reach a climax. He occasionally caught a glimpse of her wet, shiny fingers as she pleasured herself towards orgasm.
When she came, she let out a moan of pure pleasure and relaxed back into the sofa. She looked down on him as he pumped his hand up and down, his eyes still fixed in a stare at the view up her skirt.
Then he spurted, and spurted.
"Oh dear," said Alice, "We seem to have made a mess again, don't we?"
Then she got up, straightened her clothes, and walked towards the door, picking up her handbag as she went.
"I'll leave you to get straight," she said, "I'll be just outside when you are ready to do some work."
"DAMN!" Jack felt like a fool again. There he was kneeling on his office floor with his dick flapping in the wind and worse, this time he had 'come' on the outside of his suit pants where everyone would be able to see it. At the very least, he was going to have a very conspicuous damp patch until it dried. He tried to remember if he had any meetings scheduled for this morning.
He didn't think so, and he was not about to ask the siren from hell.
He went to his bathroom and cleaned himself up as best he could. When he had regained his composure, he decided Alice would have to go.
He would not be able to get away with sacking her so soon after Ellen. The personnel department might start wondering what was going on, and he did not really want them sniffing around his department. One of the other bitches might just open their mouths. No, the best way to handle it was to give her some time off.
He buzzed Alice on the intercom and, before she could say anything, he told her to take the rest of the day off.
He heard the tinny voice of the oh-so-sexy Alice say, "O.K. Mr. Conrad, if you are sure, thanks."
With that done, he worked happily for the rest of the morning to catch up. He wanted a clear slate for the afternoon so that he could regain his self-esteem with one of the other 'sluts' in the office. He would decide who later. | 3 |
4,205 | Carol Brazil vs The Rape Gang | "Hello Tommy, I came to give you something."
Tommy Davidson was in heaven. His dream girl had actually come to see him. It was worth it that his mother interrupted his morning jackoff session. He had been jacking off to an imaginary Carol anyway.
"Hi C..Carol. You really came by here to see me? I mean..." He froze as he took in the sight of the little gymnast. The little honey had her hair done in pigtails that drooped down over her pert breasts that seem to be growing all the time. As per regulation, she wore the school uniform of a white blouse and a plaid skirt that came well above the knee. Below she wore short white socks that came just above the ankle and, strictly against school regulation, shiny black patent leather shoes with a single black strap.
His eyes were fixed on her muscular legs. Her skin was now freshly showered and scrubbed, hiding away her previous night's lewd indiscretions. Carol herself felt exhausted, but with the resilience of youth appeared bright, fresh and sexually overpowering to any male within sight.
Tommy just stared dully until his mother's voice startled him.
"Tommy, tell Carol she can breakfast with you. I have to leave for work now, okay?" His mother ruffled his hair and smiled at Carol. "Carol, here is the money I owe for babysitting Tommy. I know it must be a little awkward, but I just feel better if there is someone here I can trust."
The little honey smiled. "That's okay, I was going to drop by to give Tommy some photos for my fan club anyway. It never hurts to start grass roots for an Olympic bid. Politics, you know."
Mrs. Davidson nodded and waved as she closed the door. The instant she did, Carol turned to Tommy. "Tommy, are we alone?"
Tommy shrugged, "Yeah, Dad's at work already. Can I see the photos?"
She handed him the photos, delighting in the way he gushed over each one. She waited a second and making sure her voice was soft as a whisper, she spoke to him. "Tommy, you remember how you jack off to my legs?"
He dropped the photos and nodded. "Y...Yeah."
She moved closer to him, pressing her ripe young breasts against his arm. "And you'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?"
Tommy smiled. "Aw Carol, you know I would."
"Good. I need two things from you. One, I'll tell you in a second. The other I need right now."
Tommy piped up, "You know it Carol! Whatever you want."
The little honey looked up slightly at him. Even though she was six months older, like everyone else he towered over her. She knew now, after a night with Bubba Larren, that the false sense of superiority it gave each guy when they spoke to her would always work to her advantage when dealing with men.
"It's kinda...well...it's a huge secret. You promise not to tell?"
The young teen couldn't believe his luck. He thought she really just tolerated him and now she was treating him like an equal. "YES!!"
"Well, my boyfriend, Bubba..."
"MANCHILD!"
Carol grinned to herself. "Yes Manchild, has been fucking the living shit out of me..."
She glanced down and saw that his pants had a definite lump. She continued. "...And like, he is really really huge down there."
"Bigger than me?"
Carol bit her lip. "Tommy, he is over twice as long as you."
"But not as thick as me. I'm plenty thick!"
Carol sighed. "Uhm, well, yeah he's over twice as thick as yours. The shaft part is thicker than my wrist. Thicker than yours." She glanced down again and saw that the lump was so obvious it must be painful. She didn't understand about why it would turn him on, but all the better for her plan. "Tommy, he really worked me over. He made me suck him off, cumming so much I passed out as it came from my nostrils. Can you imagine that? His thick white sperm flowing from my tiny nose?"
"Jeezus!"
She kept his arm trapped between her breasts, while her hand balled the youthful penile lump in front of his pants. She kept squeezing him, enjoying the feel of his dick in her hand. Suddenly, she jerked her hand away. "Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this. If you tell your buddies..."
"NO NO NO! I wouldn't tell! Keep going!"
"Well, thanks, I knew I could trust you. Well, first he took these awful photos of him cumming all over my face. But he is my guy, I gotta do whatever he tells me. Next, like I said, he made me suck him off, then he leaned me over a few pillows, propped up my ass and fucked me like a dog. It was so degrading. But he didn't stop there, he made me suck him hard. JEEZ! He was always doing that. Forcing me to suck him hard so he could fuck me again. Then he leaned me over again, greased up my ass, held me down and sodomized me!"
"GEEEEEEEZ!"
"...And on top of everything else, he videotaped the whole thing! I mean, what if the video gets stolen? I'm supposed to be a good girl, but I have to do what he says, don't I?"
Tommy, already overwhelmed, just shook his head so she would keep going.
"So now that you know the truth, will you help me? Please?"
The boy could feel cum welling up in his balls, ready to burst at any moment. "Sure, Carol, whatever you say. What do you want me to do?" In one moment, he was ready to do her bidding, whatever it might be. In the next, he envisioned her huge football player of a boyfriend grinding him into the dirt like a bad cigarette.
For Carol, it had happened again. She had actually meant to work on his adoration and awe of having his own star ask him for a favor. But once Carol got rolling, her lewd confession of teenage nymphomania took control and clouded her mind once more.
She resumed feeling his cock through his pants. "Tommy, he is so big, that my pussy will become loose. If I suck you hard, will you please fuck me so that my pussy will stay nice and tight for him?"
The young lad was shocked, but not so shocked that he didn't nod his head up and down in affirmation. He couldn't believe it when his teen idol dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his zipper.
The little gymnast yanked on his zipper, stopping for a second. "Gee, Tommy, you're so hard! It's like you are ready to burst right now! You won't cum all over my face like he did to me, will you?"
Davidson shook all over. "N..no!"
Carol smiled and forced the zipper down. "Good. Bubba cums all over my face and then makes me suck him hard so he can fuck me for a good long, long time." She looked straight ahead at the white cottoned bulge before her gorgeous face. "Geez Tommy, it looks like you've gotten bigger. I hope it hasn't become too big for me." With that, she hooked her thumbs on his white briefs and tugged them down till they were bunched up at his ankles. Her large green eyes caught sight of the stiff prick. "OOoooOOoooH Tommy!"
"What Carol? What is it?" The sight of his cock bobbing inches from her face had him ready to blow right then. When his little dream girl let out the audible moan, he could tell he might not be able to keep his word.
"I'm sure of it now. Your dick IS bigger than last time. You have the makings of a real monster here. Try not to choke me, okay?" Carol could see the confidence on the boy's face. Her plan was working exactly as expected. By the time she was finished, she was sure the lad would do whatever she asked. She watched him nod his head, and then leaned her own face forward. She jacked his prick a couple of times and tilted her head. 'Hmm, maybe the damned thing had gotten bigger.'
Two strokes of her soft hand was all it took. Immediately, the teen yelped once and let loose a stream of white jism that shot across her cheek, staining her smooth tanned skin and pooling on one of her pigtails. She managed to clamp down her small mouth over the boy's knob, catching the rest of his tangy offering. The little wonder-suck handled his load easily, but she had to admit 'the little bastard sure does come a lot!'
Tommy watched her head bob a couple of times and smiled a bit as he watched her swallow repeatedly. Carol didn't miss a drop, but didn't wipe off the small streak of sperm across her cheek or the small droplets at the corners of her mouth.
Carol could feel the cock subside in her mouth till it became a small wet noodle. She spat it out with disdain, wiping her chin. "TOMMY!""You were supposed to fuck me!"
Davidson felt like crying. "I'm...I'm sorry!"
"Little bastard, I barely got in a few sucks! This was your one shot, and you blew it! Wimp!" Carol Brazil, always quick to anger, was truly pissed. She really did want the young teen to hump her. Brandi, her resident sex expert, had told her that doing just such a thing would keep her pussy tight. Carol, with no experience, was following her every word.
The boy was beside himself. Carol, still on her knees before him, looked as if she would kill with just her looks. "Dammit! I knew I just couldn't count on you! Look at this mess! You even got sperm on my pigtail! I can only count on Bubba."
Looking down at the little girl, the teenager noticed something that he hadn't counted on. Carol Brazil, like all beautiful women, was even more enticing, more sexy to him, when she was mad; and right now, the little beauty was furious.
Tommy could feel his dick becoming larger again at the sight of his wet dream with her cheek streaked by his white liquid offering. Even while becoming turned on, his own temper was rising the whole time. "Quit yelling at me." He could see Carol getting up, and in own anger, put his hand on her forehead to keep her on her knees.
"You little twerp! Let me up! Let go!"
Under normal circumstances, Carol knew that even though she was smaller and lighter than the teen, she also knew that she was rock solid muscle and should be able to overpower a slightly larger boy. However, standing in this position, the teen had more leverage than she did and kept her on her knees. "No! Suck me hard like you do with Bubba!" His hand slipped behind the nape of her neck, and with all of his might, he forced her head forward.
As he forced her head forward, the little girl felt her crotch start to tingle. She wanted to fight, but the feeling of the stiff prick rubbing against her cheek was making her crazy. She could feel her resolve slipping. 'Oh no!' she thought, just the sight of boy meat was making her horny as hell! If she couldn't fight off the weak attack of one boy just a little bigger than herself, what was she going to do when she confronted with Alphonse Jones and his rape gang?
Above her, the high-pitched voice of Tommy Davidson piped down at her as he tangled his hand in her thick black hair. "C'mon, do it! Just suck me a little!" He tugged at her hair, trying to force her forward.
The moment he tugged at her hair, Carol's crotch spit more juices, and her mouth automatically opened as she turned her head slightly and captured the boy's hardness into her mouth. Unable to contain herself, she let out a moan and began to slowly bob her head back and forth. "Mmmmph!"
Tommy could already feel the blast rushing to explode in her mouth. But just having cum only moments before, he found he was able to fight it back. He kept one hand on her head, pulling her hair slightly to set the rhythm. "Ahhh! That's it! Just keep doing it like that! Damn, you like sucking dick, don't you?"
Carol shot him another angry look, but still nodded her head as she moved her small tongue back and forth. The little cocksucker knew he was right; her blood was too hot, and she wished that he was bigger so she could feel that slight choking in her throat as she forced down a really big slab of beef. As it was, when he pulled on her hair again, she relaxed her throat muscles and took his entire length to the hilt, burying her nose in the boy's wiry pubic hairs.
The young boy could feel his dick harden at the nasty look she gave him. He decided to press forward. "Right now, I bet you'd like to squeeze my nuts. Do it! Squeeze them gently and make my dick pulse in your mouth."
The teen beauty raised her head, taking a couple of breaths. "You little bastard, Bubba is going to beat the shit out of you!" Even though Carol didn't want to do it, she couldn't help herself. Her small hand shot out and squeezed his scrotum gently; she moaned to herself as she could feel the head grow slightly with each squeeze. In spite of herself, she took her hand, wrapped it around his teenage dick, and started working the youth over, sucking and jacking for all she was worth.
Tommy twisted his head to and fro, trying not to climax in her mouth again. He tried to lift her head, but she was having none of it. She took one hand and forced him to fuck her little face. Finally, almost smacking the girl with his hand, he pushed her onto her back, watching as her skirt raised itself above her waist. He saw the thin white cotton panties and saw the wet spot poised at her small teenage slit and lunged on top of her, keeping the leverage so she couldn't get up.
Carol knew what was about to happen. Even though it was what she wanted when she had come there. She wanted to be in control, not have this kid, this teen she babysat, raping her. But as she felt her panties being pulled, she lifted her hips and allowed the young teen to slip them off. He used both hands to try and force her knees apart, but Carol, with muscles from years of gymnastics, kept them shut. The contest went on for a few moments until Tommy could feel her strength lessening as surely but slowly he spread her legs. Carol felt exhausted. She knew she should be able to fight him off, but she had no rest, and her crotch was betraying her. Giving in, she quit struggling and laid there before him. Thighs spread, knees hiked to her waist, waiting to be fucked.
Tommy didn't waste any time. He leaned forward and snapped his hips forward, hitting the mark on his first thrust! "Ahh! Yes, I knew your pussy would be too good."
When his cockknob lodged in her opening, she began to lose control, arching her hips until only her head and ass remained on the living room floor. "Uhn! No, Tommy, no! You're raping me! Stop!"
The young teen was too lust-crazed to listen. He continued forward, packing his teenage manhood to the hilt inside of the little gymnast. For a second, it was just like she thought it would be. Loose.
"Geez! You're so loose, I can't feel you."
Carol smirked back up at him, shaking a bit as she felt him pull back. "That's because I was fucked by a man, not a little kid."
"You fucking bitch!" Davidson pulled back and got a shock. Her small cunt clamped down on the invading penis and began to milk him of its accord, sending spasms up and down his spine. Carol, born with the easy twat of an easy slut, felt it too. She went from not being able to feel him at all to feeling like she was stuffed. Now, angered by her acid words, he slammed back into her with all of his might. "I can so! I can fuck like him! I'll make you scream, you little bitch!"
The shock hit her like a tidal wave. Now her twat back to its normal diminutive size, it felt like he had a ten-incher down there. Carol realized that with her pussy adjusting to the size of the prick nailing her, Little Tommy Davidson would have no trouble fucking the hell out of her. She winced as the boy's jabs and thrusts became more forceful. "Tommy, Tommy, stop! You're hurting me!"
Tommy pumped her again. "Hurting you? Why? Is my dick big now?"
Carol could feel her ass being rubbed raw as Tommy delivered stroke after stroke. Her voice came out like she was stuttering as the teen continued hammering her. "Y-Yes, it's...it's big!"
Tommy felt in complete control now. "Good! Tell me to fuck you now! Tell me to fuck you with my big dick!"
It was happening as always. The feelings totally overwhelmed her, and took control of her body. Carol was moaning and whining as the fucking continued. "Uhn uhn uhn, fuck me! Fuck me good with your big dick!"
The vicious rape continued as Tommy enjoyed every jerk and twitch of the little gymnast's body. "Again! Tell me it's too big!"
The tiny girl whimpered as his forceful words sent thrills through her nubile form. "<whimper> It's...it's too big! It's too big!" Without even thinking about it, Carol lifted her legs so the youth would have better access to her mini-cunt. Feeling the cock work its magic inside of her shrunken cunny, her patent leather shoes danced in the air as she obeyed the young boy, fucking her and fucking her good!
Tommy continued the banter while delivering. "Damn, you have a lucky boyfriend. I'll flip you over and come all over your face just like he does."
Hearing the boy's graphic, lewd plans and the ruthless thrusting was all it took to send her over the edge. Carol's orgasm ripped through her, making her shake and vibrate. "Uuuuhn! Stop, please! I...I..." She never finished her sentence, babbling incoherently as she wriggled and shook as if she were undergoing electric shock.
Tommy had never seen anything like it. His little dream girl was shaking and purring at the same time. Combined with her milking twat and incredible looks, he never had a chance to flip her over. The super-tingle shock of his own climax took over as he rammed his prick to the hilt, emptying his load into Carol. Each time he came, Carol would feel it, and it would make her legs and feet twitch in the air.
All too soon, she felt the final weak spurts into her small cunt and felt his prick slip out of her well-fucked cunt. She wanted more. She needed more, but perhaps she could make the whole thing come out to her liking after all. She forced tears to the surface. Her glassy eyes took in the sight of Tommy Davidson arrogantly wiping the last remnants of his dick snot on her inner thigh. She listened to his boastful pride.
"See? See? I told you I could fuck just as good as Bubba."
Carol tried to catch her breath. The young boy really had screwed the hell out of her.She glanced down at the shrunken noodle and had to stop herself from licking it back to hardness. "No."
Tommy was taken aback. "What do you mean, No?"
"I told you to stop and you didn't. You raped me." Carol thought, 'it was rape alright, but only for the first thirty seconds'.
The lad was feeling apprehensive. He had thought if he screwed well, if he really worked her over, she would come back for more. The idea of screwing his idol's girlfriend had really turned him on. Now, he felt tingles of fear. "But...but you said."
Carol let her quick temper take control, remembering to stick to her plan. "I said no and when a girl...any girl says no, you have to stop. You shouldn't have cum inside me because I have all the evidence I need now, you little twerp. I'm gonna go to the police and teach you a lesson."
The young boy broke down. "NO! You can't! They won't believe you."
Carol found her panties and started to slip them back on. "You should have thought of that before you raped me. Bastard. Asshole! President of my fan club..HAH! How could you?"
Tommy was already thinking about his parents more than the police. "I'm sorry...I"
The little gymnast put her hands on her hips. "Yeah, Bubba will still beat the shit out of you and you'll go to jail. I hear they like young boys like you in prison."
The lad's mind was swimming. He didn't even realize that he would be sent to the Juvenile Authorities, not prison. Even then, the thought of facing an enraged man-child struck him with fear. "PLEASE...I'll do anything..."
Carol tried to clean her pigtail, undoing her mane and redoing it into a ponytail. "Well, maybe one thing..."
Tommy literally dropped to his knees. "PLEEEEEEZE!"
The young girl closed the trap. "There is one thing. You know where the 'gangbang class' is, don't you?"
He nodded his head. Every student knew the alleged story of Martha "Goggles" Glug. The girl now known as Martha "Gangbang" Glug who was caught in the wrong hallway, herded into the boys' bathroom, and was repeatedly gangbanged by a group of school toughs. By the time the teens were through, she was a ready sex slave for the gang and was well known for taking on more than one partner at all times. The young girl refused to testify, and with no other evidence, the whole incident was hushed up. No one took the credit, but everyone knew it was Alphonse Jones and his gang.
Since that day, that particular restroom, the furthest away from any school administration, came to be known as "Gangbang Class". No "nice" students went in there, and girls, if possible, always took a wide berth.
"But...but Alphonse Jones and his gang will be there."
"Don't worry about him. He'll be busy when you go there. He always waits to see if I'm running late to class so he can hit on me. Now are you ready to hear the plan or are you ready to go to jail?"
Tommy Davidson nodded once as Carol laid out her plan to her now blackmailed thrall. Carol explained it to him and walked out the door. She would follow through with her plans, but now, she had doubts. If the mere sight of Tommy Davidson's little prick got her so hot that she let him rape her, what would she do if she became overwhelmed during her grand scheme? She didn't relish the thought of being Alphonse Jones's sex toy; it made her want to vomit. She had to hope that everything went exactly as she hoped, or she mused, "I had better get used to having a sore ass." | 2 |
4,232 | Sordid Conception - Part 4 | "Honey, a watched pot never boils," Sharon said to her pacing son.
It was around 11:30 A.M. on Thursday, and they were both in the front room of the house awaiting the arrival of Brenda.
"Ha-ha," said her son as he looked out the window. "You would think she'd at least be on time."
"She'll be here. I talked to her this morning, and she was coming. Why don't you wait upstairs in your room? You can get ready."
Brad looked at her and gave her a smile. 'Getting ready' meant looking at some dirty magazines so he would come to the bed in an aroused state. Sharon had thought it would be less awkward for Brenda.
"O.K., Mom," Brad said. He started walking toward the way upstairs but stopped in the doorway to say, "But if Brenda chickens out, you're going to be the one on the receiving end later on."
'I almost wish Brenda does not show up,' Sharon thought after he tromped upstairs. She put the magazine down that she had been thumbing through and walked to the window herself.
The last couple of days had been very strange. She had never needed her son like she had since she had suggested her idea to Brenda. It might have awakened some desires of her own to have another child because she had fucked Brad every day since Monday. Yesterday, she had taken him in the morning again, wanting him to have all night to build up for Brenda.
Down in the valley, a car made the turn onto their road. Too far away to tell if it was Brenda, but the car was the same color as hers. Sharon walked to the front door and went out onto the front porch. She could hear the phone from the porch if it wasn't Brenda coming up the road.
But it was. Brenda pulled her car into the driveway as Sharon gave her a welcoming wave.
'My knees are shaking,' thought Sharon. 'What must Brenda be going through!'
"Good morning," Brenda said, getting out of the car and opening the back door to pull out a small travel bag.
"Morning, dear. How are you feeling today?" Sharon said, walking down the steps to meet her halfway. They hugged briefly in the sunshine.
"A little excited, actually," Brenda said when they unclenched.
Sharon hadn't expected her to be so together; she had thought she would have to bolster her courage. But Brenda was all smiles.
"Well then, come on in," Sharon said. They went inside, and Sharon asked Brenda to sit at the kitchen table for a moment.
"Where's Brad?" Brenda asked, placing her bag on the table and sitting down.
"He's upstairs in his room. I thought we'd keep him there until we were ready for him," Sharon said as she poured them some iced tea. "I think there are a few things to cover before we go up."
"Sure, what?" Brenda asked as she took the glass of iced tea, and Sharon sat down opposite from her at the table.
"Well, we've talked about how best to do this. You'll be wearing the nightshirt and be under the covers. Brad will get under the covers and remove his shorts. Now, he'll have a full erection when he gets into bed."
Brenda made a little smile at that, and Sharon stopped.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sharon....just hearing you talk about Brad that way..."
"I know. It feels strange, believe me," Sharon said, and they both had a little laugh. "Now, getting back to the subject...uh, Brad has told me that he is....fairly well endowed."
'If she only knew how I really knew!' Sharon thought as she watched Brenda mull over what she had said. For all Sharon knew, Chris might be the same way, but Sharon wanted to warn Brenda right up front so the supposed surprise wouldn't stall things once they were upstairs.
"Did he qualify that anymore?" Brenda said.
"No, but I've got some lubricant upstairs, if you didn't bring any."
"You know, I didn't even think about that.....Sharon, I've got a little confession to make. Sitting here, I feel like it's the first night of my honeymoon. I mean, my body is excited....that way."
'God, she's telling me she's wet for Brad!' Sharon thought.
"Brenda, uh....that's understandable, dear. You're just thinking about being with child...that's all it is," Sharon rationalized for her.
"Yeah," Brenda agreed.
"You know, we're walking a tightrope here, dear," Sharon continued. "It's natural for us to get excited over the sexual act. That's why we do it even when we are not trying to have babies. But here we're trying to stay professional about it, which is really sort of unnatural....so, don't feel bad for feeling the things you usually feel during sex. It's just natural."
"Whew! Sharon, I'm so glad you know what I'm going through....the only thing that scared me about all this was, what if....I enjoyed the act with Brad to the extent that I, um, had an orgasm," Brenda confessed.
Sharon realized there was another dynamic at work besides Brenda's babymaking desires. She could be mistaken, but she thought Brenda was looking forward to getting fucked by Brad for other reasons.
"Brenda, it could happen, and there would be nothing wrong with it if it did. I don't have to tell you how good it can feel. You're not going to be up there shaking hands!" Sharon joked, and Brenda laughed again. "Besides, you could be fantasizing about Chris, right?"
"Sharon, you're so cool," Brenda said. "I'm glad I married your son."
"You know how much I like having you in the family," Sharon responded, patting her hand. "Ready to go up?"
"Sure." Brenda stood up with her bag, and they headed upstairs.
Brenda pulled the nightshirt down over her hips and reached up to pull her hair from out of the neck of the sleepshirt. The shorts and blouse she had worn were stacked neatly on the counter in Sharon's bedroom bath.
"God, calm down," she whispered to her reflection. Her nipples were more than apparent through the nightshirt's fabric. She wished she had brought a bra. And under the shirt, her womanhood was tingling with moisture.
'This is not going to be like your dreams,' she told herself.
She opened the door and walked out into Sharon's bedroom, where her mother-in-law sat on her bed.
"That shirt will do nicely," Sharon said. "Brad won't see a stitch of you. Come on and get into bed."
Her mother-in-law held the sheets up, and Brenda crawled into bed.
"Now, there's some lubricant here," Sharon said, motioning to the bookcase headboard of the bed. She saw a small bottle of oil sitting there. "My suggestion is use a lot....we want things to go right the first time. We should bring Brad in, then I'll take him out afterward so you don't feel uncomfortable."
"You'll take him out?"
"Yes, I'll be over in that chair."
Sharon tilted her head toward a chair on the opposite side of the room beyond the foot of the bed.
"So, you'll be in the room during.....?!" Brenda was a little surprised. It wasn't that she was against the idea. Maybe not being alone with Brad was a good idea, really. Having his mother in the room would keep Brad in line, she supposed. But she was surprised that Sharon would want to be...it was sort of weird.
"Yes," Sharon answered, "I thought that if I were in the room, I could monitor things. I think Chris, if he ever were to find out, would appreciate me not leaving you two alone. Does that make any sense?"
"Yeah, that does make sense," she conceded. "Brad knows about this?"
"Yes, I told him, and he didn't seem to have any problem with it. I'll be way over there, and with the covers over you, I won't see anything."
"Oh, I know that," she said. "It's fine with me."
"Good, I'll go check on Brad and let you have a few moments. I'll come back to see if you're ready and then go back and tell Brad to come in when he's ready....oh, let me get a towel for you."
Sharon walked into the bathroom and came back with a towel.
"Spread this under you so the oil doesn't get all over..I'll be back in a few minutes." Sharon went out, closing the door behind her.
Brenda threw back the covers and arranged the towel perpendicular to her body under her bottom. She pulled the covers back over her and raised her legs so her knees made a tent.She took the bottle of oil, carefully opened it, and poured some on the fingers of her left hand, transporting the oil between her legs that way.
She worked her fingers into the soft, neat folds of her sex. She had freshly shaved the area the day before, leaving only a tuft of dark hair near the top. She took Sharon's advice and used a lot of the oil, enjoying having to use her fingers to hold herself open so the oil would slicken everything up.
"God, bring Brad on!" she half-joked, setting the bottle back on the headboard.
"Look at those fucking titties," Brad said to himself. They defied belief. Big, round jugs with nipples that stuck upward, instead of straight out. He turned the page of the Hustler magazine as the door to his bedroom opened and his mother walked in without knocking. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it.
"She here?" he asked, laying the magazine down. He saw her looking at his hard cock as it lay on his belly before she answered.
"Yes, and in a few minutes, she's going to be ready for you," his mother said, walking over to sit by him on the bed. "I can see you're ready for her."
"So, what kind of a mood is she in? She nervous?" he asked.
"Hardly!" his mother said with a short chuckle.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"I think she's looking forward to it," his mother said, lifting her hand to slowly trace her fingers on the bottom of his erection. "She admitted that she was excited and she was looking for excuses if you got her off."
"Mother, don't fuck with my mind!" he said, looking at her to see if she was pulling his leg. He couldn't see any deception.
"Brad, I'm not kidding about this. I'm only telling you so it doesn't surprise you. If it happens, if you get her off, don't make a big deal out of it in front of her. I want you to be a gentleman...if you screw this up, it's going to be quite some time before we sleep together again."
"Mom, don't worry. I know the drill. She's okay with you in the room?"
"Yes, she saw the logic in that."
"I wonder what she'd say if she knew you just wanted to hear her squeal when I lay the pipe to her!"
That had been the thing that he had learned on Monday morning. His mother was turned-on by the whole baby-making thing. She'd finally admitted that watching them would be a real turn on. Brad and she had finally worked out the sitting-in-the-chair-to-protect-Chris plan. She wasn't going to be able to watch but she'd hear most everything - the squeaking bed, her groans, and this loud, finishing grunt that he had auditioned for her so she would know right when he was cumming.
"Be nice, baby," his mother mockingly scolded him as she got up. "I'll be right back, so get your shorts on." She went out of his bedroom, leaving the door open.
'Mother's gonna need a fucking herself after this!' he thought gleefully as he pulled on a ratty pair of Bermuda shorts and zipped them up carefully to avoid catching himself in the zipper. The shorts did little to hide the big bulge, but he'd chosen them for that reason. 'Give Brenda a little idea of what she's gonna be getting!'
He went to his bedroom door and looked down toward his mother's bedroom. Her door was closed, so he hung out in his doorjamb.
Her bedroom door opened, and his mother leaned out to him. She motioned him with a forefinger and a smile, out of Brenda's sight, to come to her room.
"He's coming," her mother-in-law said as she turned back to her.
"Here goes nothing," she said, and Sharon smiled at her.
Then Brad came through the door. He was wearing a pair of old shorts, and Brenda couldn't help but notice the tent in the front. And Brad didn't try to hide it, she thought. He just stood there with his hands on his hips as his mother closed the door behind him.
"Hi, Brad," she said, not looking away.
"Hey, Brenda," he said nicely as he walked to the other side of the bed and crawled under the sheets. It was a king-size bed, so he was still some way from her. "Ready to make a baby?"
"Brad!" his mother said, looking away miffed as she walked to the foot of the bed.
"Mom, that's what we're here for, right?" Brad said as she felt him removing his shorts.
"Just keep the talking to a minimum," Sharon told him. "This is a stressful situation, especially for Brenda."
"I'm sorry if I offended you, Brenda," Brad muttered as he threw his shorts on top of the covers.
"It's all right, Brad," she said, "Your mother is trying to watch out for me. But everything's okay, Sharon. Brad and I will just do this, and that'll be that. Right, Brad?"
"Nothing to it," Brad agreed. "People been doing it forever."
Brenda liked that thought. Brad seemed to be at ease and ready to do his duty for their family.
"Well, I'll be over here," Sharon said, and she walked over and sat in her chair.
Brad slid closer to her, and Brenda lay down fully, using her hands to pull her hair up so it wouldn't be under her. It was a motion she usually did in her bed with her husband, but now she was doing it for his younger brother. And it excited her.
Brad then moved over her. He supported his weight on his hands, holding his chest about six inches above her as his knees found the space between her legs. She made the space wider and raised her knees. She started to inch up the hem of her nightshirt with her hands to expose her womanhood.
All of a sudden, Brad leaned back on his knees, his upper body moving up as his hands grabbed the sheets like a cape. He looked down without thinking, and she was looking right at Brad's erection.
"Oh," she said in surprise. Brad was hung like a pony! She'd never seen an organ that thick!
Then, just as quickly, Brad lowered himself back over her, pulling the covers up around their shoulders.
'Brenda took the bait!' Brad thought, unable to stop a big smile. He'd been thinking about that maneuver since they had set down the rules of the session. 'Dangled Big Chubby in front of her, and she got an eyeful!'
His mother, sitting back behind them in her chair, would not have seen anything. As far as she knew, he was just going to get in and get out. But he wanted to test his sister-in-law, especially if she had told his mother she was excited. The next couple of seconds would tell if this was going to be fun for both of them or just a great masturbation for him.
Brenda looked up at him again, and her face had lost that detached, all-business look. She looked turned on! Brad decided to press the issue immediately. He lowered himself down on her until his chest was pressing against her shirt-clad bosom, and his erection was digging into her shrouded crotch.
"If we whisper, Mom won't hear us," he said very softly.
"We shouldn't talk," Brenda whispered back, but it didn't sound fully sincere.
"Brenda, I want to be honest with you...I've wanted to fuck you for a long time. I want you to fuck me back...not just lay there."
Her eyes widened a little, and her tongue tip wetted her lips.
"I don't want to cheat on Chris," she whispered finally.
"This is cheating. Don't kid yourself...let's enjoy it, Brenda. It's like a 'One Free Cheating' card in Monopoly." He rubbed his erection against the soft splay of her legs, and she drew in a little shuddering breath. Oh, she wanted him all right. "Brenda, I want you to let yourself go. This is going to be our secret."
She remained silent, but her hands came up to softly hold his sides.
"Did you see my cock?" he continued softly.
"Yes."
"You're going to love it in your pussy," he whispered confidently.
"Brad, you shouldn't talk like that," Brenda said weakly, closing her eyes.
"All right...act like you don't want it," he whispered, "but pull your shirt up just the same." He waited a few beats, wondering if she'd call the whole thing off just to try and prove to him that she wasn't hot for it.
But then her hands moved down, and he felt her shirt being dragged upward under his erection.
Then, he felt hair and the soft, warm feathery folds of her womanhood touching the bottom of his manhood. He was surprised by the textures; he'd imagined Brenda would be more au natural like his mother. It felt like Brenda had shaved herself bare!
'Man, I wish I could do the whole nine yards on her. I'd love to get a look at that pussy...work her over with my tongue a bit!' Brad wished, but he knew he'd never get the chance. Still, he was going to bang her pussy!
He worked his hips back a little and felt the head of his prick slide down out of hair into hot fleshy skin, the inner labia of his sister-in-law. Somewhere in there was her pussy hole, and he prodded her crotch several times looking for that sweet spot. But he was so erect, he couldn't get it down far enough; he kept rubbing into what had to be her clit because he kept feeling hair too.
"Lower," Brenda whispered.
He had to reach back between them with his right hand and push himself down. He was pressing into her skin, pushing down, and then it found the mark. Most of the head slid into her oiled groove, and then, when he felt the going get a little tough, he stopped. He wanted to be sure he went slowly as always.
"I'm gonna take it slow. Ready?" he said in a normal voice. It was okay for his mother to hear that. In fact, he wanted her to. He hadn't forgot she was back there.
Brenda didn't say anything, just kept her eyes closed, but her hands gripped his sides a little harder.
'I'll take that as a Go-Ahead.'
He pressed forward, and he felt the flared head of his cock pop through the gateway of her pussy. The ring of her pussy portal clamped around his shaft as he inched it in.
'How did he know?...Could he see it on my face?' Brenda wasn't able to answer the questions in her mind. Not with Brad's thick member sliding into her excited body.All she knew was that Brad stirred her up even more the way he had talked to her.
"I'm going to cum...I know I am...he's going to start fucking me and I'll cum...he'll feel me cumming!"
He was just opening her up, pushing his surprising fullness slowly in. She tried to relax her loins but, instinctively, they cramped up in delicious shivers around the intruding but oh-so-welcomed cock of her husband's brother.
"You got it all," Brad whispered above her, and she felt his pubic bone pushing into her and what she knew must be his balls against the lower swells of her flattened asscheeks. "God, you feel good, Brenda."
'So do you!' she wanted to tell him, but she bit her lip. It was going to be hard to be around Brad as it was after all this was over.
He left himself all the way in her, and it was all she could focus on. If he'd started moving it in and out, she could have gone on to something else, kept her mind out of things. But he left it in, and it burned a hole in her mind.
The dream came back to her, his girth was like that in the dream, his skin was pressing on her exposed clit, his heavy scrotum against her ass, full of baby-syrup, he'd be spurting it in her!
Her skin went all prickly all of a sudden. The nightshirt, the thin cotton nightshirt, suddenly felt like a wool blanket, her body was burning up. The heat was mentally generated, not real.
'No...not yet!!' she managed to think right before her pussy started convulsing around Brad's cock. She'd cum and he hadn't even started fucking her!
"UUUHHH!" she gasped loudly before she could stop herself.
Sharon was wondering what was happening under the covers of her bed. Things seemed to be taking an awfully long time to get started. She hoped it was just Brad being very careful with his sister-in-law's feelings and body.
"I'm gonna take it slow. Ready?" she heard her son say from under the covers.
Sharon sat back in her chair.
She knew what was happening now. Brad was working himself into her body. Sharon crossed her legs, feeling a warmness growing in her own loins. She knew what Brenda was feeling right at that moment, she knew the satisfying feeling of having Brad as a lover.
She thought she heard some whispering from under the covers after a moment. She began to lean forward when a loud "UUUHHH!" filled the bedroom. It was definitely Brenda, and Sharon took it for what it was - an expression of sexual stimulation.
The covers over their legs began moving, but it wasn't the thrusting motion she had been expecting; it was more of a thrashing motion. It quieted down after a few seconds.
'Is that it?' Sharon thought. 'I would have thought Brad would have lasted longer than that....but it is Brenda and he might have gotten too excited.'
She was thinking about speaking out, but then the covers started moving the way she had envisioned. Brad's ass was pumping.
'She is fucking hot!' Brad swore to himself as Brenda's pussy jerked around his skewering prick. 'Cumming all over my cock....oh, I'm gonna take her there again....gonna fuck her good!'
She was working her cumming cunt in a circle under him, her sharp fingernails were digging in his sides, her thighs squeezing his hips tightly. Her pretty face was all scrunched, mirroring the sexual turmoil in her now juicy twat.
And then...right there....a slight, slight smile on her lips as her face began to slacken and her climactic movements ended.
'Oh yeah! She enjoyed that all right....God, I can't believe Chris gets this whenever he wants!' He let his weight down on her, wanting to feel her curvaceous form all up and down his torso. Her round tits squashed themselves out, and he could feel her hard nipples through the shirt. His face slipped past hers, his cheek rubbing hers. He could smell the fruity variety of shampoo in her hair which was fanned on the pillow under her head.
Her hands slipped around his back, holding him to her. And then he felt her face turning to him slightly, pressing itself against his hair. Then he felt the kisses she was making, her lips rooting through his hair, coming upon his ear, kissing his ear!
"Yeah," he said softly and began fucking her.
Her pussy was stretched by that time and only clung a little as he rolled his hips, withdrawing only about two inches from her hot, rich confines on each slow piston-like pump.
Brenda's hot breath blew in his ear every time he pushed in as far as he could. He began to mix up his rhythm, sometimes doing his thrusts quicker, sometimes slower, sometimes with no rhyme or reason. Always, her breath filled his ear when he filled her.
Her hands did not stay on his back. They started doing circles, rubbing him, always moving a little lower. They were almost to the swell of his ass when he gave her a really hard thrust. Just like he'd hoped, her hands grabbed his dimpled asscheeks.
With Brenda's small hands clutching his naked ass, he began to really fuck her. She started moaning loudly, right into his ear. It sounded deafening to him, but it was certainly loud enough to fill the bedroom.
"Uuuuuhhhh...uuuuUUUGGGHH.....Oooohhhh!"
Brenda wasn't even aware she was making those noises. All she was aware of was Brad's husky prick pounding her pussy like she hadn't had in years. Oh, Chris got her off, and she was always satisfied, but..... this fucking was torrid.
It reminded her of the high school days. She'd been popular back then because she had developed early and because she'd been a "loose" girl. There'd been a line of seniors waiting for her every year, and she'd called a lot of their numbers. All those nights in the back of cars, guys so horny they'd just pull her skirt and panties off and mount her. No finesse back then, they'd stop thrust as fast and as long as they could. Their weight pinning her, hard cock slamming in her...... she'd loved it.
The irony was incredible - by some miracle, she'd hadn't gotten knocked up in her backseat ballets and now, here she was, mostly clothed, holding the churning ass of a teenager, hoping that his sperm was going to create a life in her belly!
Sharon Larrington sat in her chair, a hand on her throat to represent the shock of hearing Brenda getting so excited by her son's fucking and the other hand under her skirt for the same reason. The front of her panties were damp, her fingers rubbing the material into her own sopping slit.
'Oh Brenda!..I know!...I know!' Sharon said to herself.
In front of her, her bed was squeaking away as it always did when she and Brad made love. The covers were lifting and falling in the familiar hurried heaving of her son's ass. Brenda kept moaning and huffing.
'I've got to get a hold of myself,' Sharon realized, pulling her hand from under her skirt. In a few minutes, she'd be shooing Brad out and trying to present an impartial, caring front to Brenda.
Under the covers, Brad could feel his balls aching to unload in his brother's wife. Fucking her was better than he'd imagined it could be - she was fucking him back, throwing her cunt up at him and pulling him into her bald box at the same time.
And he was taking liberties as well - his left hand was up under her nightshirt now, squeezing and kneading her right breast. His tongue was in her left ear. He was using his erection like a spade, sending it almost straight down into Brenda, the top of his shaft rubbing her clit just like Mom had taught him. Brenda tossed her head away from him, her groans whipping upward, building to a crescendo.
"UHHHHH.....Oooh.....oOOOHH....HHHHHUUUUUUU!"
Brenda's body torqued under him as her pussy blew up in a second orgasm, this one much bigger than the first.
It was just the excuse he was looking for. He shoved into her as deep as he could and let loose.
"OOOHYYEAAAAHHH!" he shouted, totally forgetting the grunt he'd told his mother he would make. His cum jetted into Brenda's roiling vagina in shuddering spurts, each feeling better than the first. | 1 |
4,237 | FUCK DECENCY | "Can't we at least have her ass?" Eeney asked of Cindy, pointing to the girl as she made ready to approach Meeney with her pitcher.
"No, dear. She is my special pet. She'll need to be taken outside for her spanking as soon as I'm done eating. Anyway, you haven't paid me enough to have her. Save up your pennies and perhaps her lover will still be keeping her here when you come back again. But she's pregnant, so don't be too long about it!" Marie laughed. Her voice had emphasized the word 'long' and she seemed to be in high spirits. Kate listened behind herself as Cindy, standing over Meeney, who still palmed and patted Kate's bottom as if it were a toy made for distraction, unzipped Meeney's fly. There was a sound of rich fluid being poured forth and Meeney grunted. Kate felt the couch move as Meeney bucked his hips. She glanced at Eeney. He looked a little disconsolate but he had accepted Marie's advice and taken to rubbing his zippered crotch with his hand. He stared at Cindy's bottom. The girl gave Meeney his due and then righted her stance. She moved round Kate and came to Trent.
"Yes, you must have cream too," Cindy smiled. She looked down at his cock and saw that it quavered erectly over the blue fabric of the couch. "Oh! Let me get you a little placemat, to catch the spills," Cindy said. She retreated to the chair where the tray sat. She put her pitcher down. She plucked a linen napkin from the tray and returned to Trent with it. She unfolded it and placed it neatly under his quivering cock. Then, getting her pitcher again, she came back and held it over Trent's dick.
"Ready?" Cindy asked. Her eyes were bright and she clearly enjoyed servicing Trent best of all. He wasn't gay, and she knew he coveted her almost as much as his lover. Kate watched, wide-eyed, as Cindy poured the rich milky cream over Trent's naked cock. It splattered onto his cockhead and ran down his shaft. It collected in the hair of his balls. It spilled onto the napkin. Cindy upped the pitcher just in time, before there was too much cream and it ran all over the couch. Some did trickle back under Trent's ass, but there was not enough to seriously wet their seat.
"Thanks. I needed that," Trent said wryly. Cindy blushed and moved to Miney and unzipped him. She gave him his due and then zipped him back up.
"Now, my dear, get down on your knees, for it's time for your cereal," Marie said to Kate. Cindy, to Kate's surprise, set her pitcher on the floor and sat in Miney's lap. The man seemed not the least upset and gladly traded his hand for her bottom's squirmings.
Marie made Kate kneel on the floor between her lover's legs. She found herself face to face with his cock and his balls. On either side of her head his hairy legs encompassed her. She placed her chained hands on the floor and knelt with her feet, themselves chained, tucked under her, with her bottom raised up so that she looked like an eager dog waiting for her master to feed her. She felt her bottom sway and knew she must be trying to wag her tail for him.
Marie gave Cindy a hot bowl of porridge. It smelled of oatmeal. Kate realized that, as a proper pony, she must have her oats. The thought made her hiney wiggle and she almost wished Marie would give her a good slash with her whip to make her feel even more like a good little pony.
As Kate watched with bated breath, knowing something utterly lewd and wonderful must be about to happen, Cindy took her lover's penis in her small hand. Trent was quite large and his thing stuck out both ends of her little fist and Cindy had trouble holding him, Trent was so eager by now to cum. He was drooling gobs of precum and Kate watched as Cindy stuck his cock directly into the oatmeal porridge.
"Eat, pony!" Cindy said in a happy, high-pitched voice to Kate. Drawing Trent's big penis out of the bowl, she presented it to Kate's face. Kate saw that her lover's cock was covered in oatmeal. After a moment's surprise, she darted her tongue out and lapped at the porridge covered penis.
"Aughghgh!" Trent moaned as his swollen cock was cleaned by Kate's tongue. She was avid in her lickings and, she realized as she bathed him, she was hungry. Kate waggled her bottom eagerly as Cindy redipped her lover's organ in the porridge and presented it again. Once more Kate tongued her lover's organ, and found the porridge delicious.
"Yes, that's it! You are a good little horsey," Marie said. She stood over the hungry bride-to-be and her stiffened groom. Trent was in seventh heaven and yet it was obvious that if he was used in this way for very long Kate would get a faceful of cream with her cereal. Every muscle in Trent's chest and stomach and legs strained as he fought to hold back his sperm. Kate felt small and wonderful as she knelt between her lover's legs, forced to clean his cock after every dipping in the cereal bowl. She let her bottom sway salaciously behind her. She knew Eeney was watching her hiney and studying her cheeks with avid attention as she squeezed them and let them go, then squeezed them again, anticipating a fuck by somebody. Surely Marie would let her have her lover in her cunt and not make her accept all his sperm in her face! Trent was hard beyond belief and yet, as she tongued him, he somehow managed to hold in his seed. If she worked quickly, he might last until the porridge bowl was empty, and then she would leap up and mount him, if nothing else, and ride him to victory. As if in anticipation of her plan, Marie reached down and grabbed a handful of Kate's hair.
Kate kept licking. Imprisoned between her lover's legs and with Marie now reining her in, she had no choice but to clean her lover's cock after every new dipping into the porridge bowl. Cindy sighed softly. She looked quite proud of herself for having such a big cock in her hand, all stiff and excited. It was obvious, as Trent's eyes darted from her to Kate, that she was quite appealing to him, and he enjoyed her fondling hand. Cindy pushed her breasts out, letting Trent see all she had. She opened her thighs. She gave him an inviting glance and wriggled her bottom. Miney, entertaining her ass on his crotch, groaned and spurted into his pants.
"Oh! Did you just cum?" Cindy asked Miney. She looked slightly miffed that the gay man would ejaculate with her bare, unprotected bottom in his lap. Miney blushed and nodded. "Well I hope none of your stuff gets on me!" Cindy snipped. She moved her ass a little forward in his lap in hopes of avoiding his sperm.
"Ahhhhhh!" Kate suddenly heard behind her. Meeney, using his hand, had just climaxed. His jism brooded in his pants and he rubbed himself a little glumly now, his pleasure over.
Like Superman, Trent fought to maintain control and somehow succeeded. Marie seemed a little disappointed. Kate suspected she wanted to see her messed by a faceful of cum. Yet Kate, with her pretty braids, was still quite clean and rosy-cheeked, with just a little porridge on her nose.The bowl was empty now, and Cindy made Kate lick the inside of it completely clean with her tongue.
"Well! You proved to be much more of a stalwart than I expected," Marie said to Trent. She eyed his big penis, still holding Kate by her hair so that she couldn't mount him.
"It was tough," Trent gasped. He had to squeeze his eyes shut as another sexual tremor ran down his organ. He clenched his buttocks in the sofa and grimaced as the wave of pleasure passed away. He opened his eyes again. "God, you have some tongue!" He said to Kate. Cindy, not wanting to spoil his success, let go of his cock. Her fingers were a little sticky from the porridge, and she licked them clean, one by one, as if she were a baby just finishing a favorite meal.
"Alright, Mr. Hunk, get down on your knees on the floor," Marie said to Trent. "I promised our gay friends here that I'd fuck your ass, and I'm wet and hot for you!" Her eyes were wild, and she yanked Kate backward so that the girl couldn't get to her lover. Trent rose.
Eeney stood up and came over to Kate and took her from Marie. Holding her by her hair, he drew her up so that she knelt erectly before him. But he let her face away from her, so that she could watch as Marie fucked her lover. Kate, dizzy with emotions and not knowing what to do, held down by her chains and captive to Eeney's desires, knelt on the rug obediently. She heard Eeney unzip himself behind her. Surreptitiously, Marie too busy to notice, he shoved his erection into the mass of Kate's lovely blonde hair. Kate yelped as she felt his pee hole bump up against the back of her neck. But she could do nothing, and nobody heard her, for they were all entranced by Trent and the impending loss of his anal virginity.
"Now, sir, I'm going to give you what you've always wanted but been too afraid to ask for!" Marie crowed. Trent knelt obediently before her, on the carpet, just a few feet away from Kate. His head hung down, and his penis, engorged as ever, hung down between his legs like a big summer sausage in a smokehouse. Kate watched as a drop of precum drooled down from the tip of his penis and landed on the carpet.
"Just make it quick," Trent replied to Marie. "I don't like being made to look like a fag."
"I'm a woman, dear," Marie answered. And, as if to prove it, she reached back behind herself and unzipped her dress. The garment fell away, and, as Kate had suspected, Marie was ready for action underneath. She wore absolutely nothing. No bra, no panties. Just her long black leather boots and her matching fingerless gloves. Marie strode past Kate to the low table where the flower vase stood and picked up a bell sitting there and rang it.
"Bess, bring my dildo!" Marie called. The door to the breakfast room was ajar, and a moment later Bess appeared. On a small silver tray, half the size of the tray that had borne their food, was a big dildo and straps. Marie thanked Bess and took the dildo from the tray. "Cindy, come and help me get this on!" Marie said. Quietly Bess withdrew, leaving them to their game, but not before her eyes met Kate's and she seemed to say, 'I told you so. Poor American girl.'
Kate knelt shivering on the rug, too scared to know how to act or respond. Her lover knelt before her with his ass raised to the gay men, waiting for Marie to mount him. Marie struggled into her dildo harness. Cindy buckled it for her and adjusted it so that the big hulking dildo stuck out in front of her as if she were some permanently erect man.
"Now I am ready for you, my sweet stallion!" Marie said to Trent's ass when she'd gotten the harness on. Cindy fetched a jar of KY jelly from behind the flower vase, secreted there for the breakfast's conclusion. She took big gobbed handfuls of the stuff onto her fingers and spread it liberally all over Marie's fake cock. When the job was done and Marie was fully lubed, the woman knelt down on the carpet behind Trent. Her long boots protected her knees from rug burns.
"Ack!" Trent said through gritted teeth as he felt his buns pulled apart by Marie.
"Relax your bottom, boy! I can hardly get it open!" Marie said. "Cindy, take hold of his cock and give him a good yank to make him obedient!" Marie called to her favorite girl. The redhead knelt dutifully beside Trent. She reached under him and, like a maiden milking a cow, she pulled hard on Trent's dick.
"Whooaa!" Trent bellowed. Cindy gave him another yank, and Marie pinched his balls.
"Ohhh!" Kate cried, herself in distress, for she suddenly felt Eeney ejaculate onto her neck.
"Kate! Get my whip! I want you to whip your lover's back or I'll never get his asscheeks apart!" Marie called to the girl.
Kate, glad to get away from Eeney, whatever the cost, rose up from the floor. She felt Eeney's hot sperm run down her back and find its way into the crack of her bottom. Managing to ignore it, however, and a little peeved at Trent for putting her in such an embarrassing place, she went and fetched Marie's whip and came striding back, quick as her chains would allow, swinging it vengefully.
"Give him a good slash right here on his ass," Marie told Kate, backing up. "The man has buns of steel."
Kate toyed for a moment with the idea of slashing at Marie instead. But the woman was tall and powerful. Even in kneeling, she retained her aura of authority. She looked like a cat about to pounce on prey. Kate realized she stood no chance against the woman. So, instead, she took out her fear and anger on her lover.
WHACK! Kate brought Marie's whip down upon her lover's ass and watched as he responded. Trent groaned. His head shot up.
"Careful of his balls!" Marie cautioned. "He's a wonderful stud. I don't want him hurt. Just obedient."
Kate nodded. She was fully in the grip of Marie now, obeying her, pleasing her with her actions as well as her body. Kate brought the cat down carefully, not hitting hard enough, but Marie didn't scold her for she knew the girl was new at such things. Kate lifted the crop again and managed to flog her lover more fully on the next stroke. She watched as the little knotted leather tips of the crop skittered into his furrow and made him wince and buck like a horse.
"Legs apart, young man! You mustn't try to hide anything from us girls!" Marie told Trent. His balls stuck rudely out from between his thighs in any event, but now Marie, reaching forward, made him show himself more completely, so that if she bent down she could see his balls swing and his penis hanging down beyond.Story submission: <[email protected]>
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4,243 | The Girls Of Delta Theta Phi | "Did that turn you on?" Nicole abruptly asked.
"Excuse me?" Cynthia asked after pausing a few beats, wondering how the conversation had taken such an abrupt turn.
"I asked if that turned you on," Nicole repeated. "All those naked bodies?"
"What would make you ask a question like that?"
It took even longer for Nicole to answer. It seemed for a few moments that she might be reconsidering her question. Then, with deliberation, she went on.
"Last night you seemed to spend a considerable amount of time watching Courtney and me. A lot longer than someone who had just accidentally walked into an embarrassing situation. Most people would've just stepped back out. You stood there and watched for a while."
Cynthia's face blushed, she hadn't realized Nicole had seen her. Then a more embarrassing thought replaced that. Had she told Courtney?
"Was it the sight of our naked bodies that interested you so much?" Nicole continued.
Cynthia was speechless, she didn't have an answer. She really didn't know herself why she had stayed there so long.
"Know what I think?" Nicole said, and then continued without waiting for an answer. "I think it was the sex that interested you so much. I think that the fact that it was your daughter that was eating my pussy was secondary to the act itself. I think you got really hot watching two women get it on."
Nicole had automatically switched to what she ofttimes referred to as her inquisitor mode. The conviction in her voice grew with each word.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Cynthia finally managed to stammer. She wasn't used to being on the defensive.
"Oh yes you do," Nicole retorted with the same confidence she had exhibited in front of some of the state's most noted judges.
Cynthia sensed that something she would rather not have remembered was about to resurface. She wanted to jump out of the pool and run. Yet, a small voice deep within her called out for attention. It urged her to let matters take their course.
"When you mentioned last night that you had pledged mid-year back in 1950, it really didn't sound right to me. I don't know why, maybe just the investigator in me playing out a hunch. It's one of my bad habits, I can't let a feeling like that go by without following up on it. On the positive side, following some of those hunches have gotten me where I am today."
Nicole paused for a moment, waiting to see if Cynthia was going to object to her going on any further.
"Anyway, a client of mine, is the current recording secretary for the Delta Theta Phi alumni association. She's class of '87 by the way and also a lesbian. You might find that interesting. Anyway, going on the idea that my memory might just be faulty, I called her this morning and asked her to look up and see if there had ever been a mid-term pledging in 1950 or any other year. She said that since all the old records had been computerized a few years back it would be no trouble to find out. She called me back only an hour ago with the information."
Cynthia was now totally still as well as silent.
"She said that there had never been a mid-term pledge in '50 or any other year. She asked why and I told her I was working on a discrimination case remarkable like the Jennifer Hallis scandal of that year. I just wanted to use it as a little background. I asked if we had any current information on the girls involved in the incident. She said unfortunately no, most of the girls who were kicked out had their records expunged by the college administration. In fact, except for the file on Jennifer herself, there were no other entries on who even was involved. I had thanked her and was about to hang up when she casually mentioned that there was another name in the file - Jennifer's roommate that last year. It was just an entry in the room assignment form, there was nothing else on the girl. The name was Cynthia Donnelley."
Cynthia's face turned pale.
"I remember Courtney mentioning her grandmother Donnelley," Nicole said excitedly. "That was your maiden name..wasn't it?"
The older woman's silence confirmed it.
"You were her roommate," Nicole said, making it a statement more than a question.
"Yes," Cynthia meekly answered, decades of denial lifting with that single syllable.
"...and her lover."
"Yes, ... I was," this time it came easier.
A level of excitement filled Nicole. The same excitement that filled her when she broke a guilty party on the witness stand. The elation was short-lived as she suddenly realized what she had actually done. This wasn't some courtroom, it was the home of a friend. And this wasn't an adversary but simply a woman who had told a simple lie about her life of almost half a century before.
"Oh damn, Cynthia," Nicole recalled in horror at what she'd done. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I can't believe I acted like I did."
"It's OK," Cynthia said, knowing that the younger woman was honestly upset at what she'd done. "It's OK, it doesn't matter. I don't know why I still lied about it all these years. It was so long ago."
"Does Courtney know?" Nicole asked, partly out of a curiosity that couldn't be suppressed and a desire not to be the one to accidentally tell her.
"No, she doesn't know anything about that period of my life or that her mother was once also into women."
"Women?" Nicole repeated. "You had other lovers after that?"
"What the hell, I might as well tell you the whole story," Cynthia said with a smile. "Someone should know what it was really like back then."
"You don't have to," Nicole said, hoping at the same time that she would. "I was way out of line with what I did."
"What's done is done," started Cynthia. "Besides, now that I want to get it all out, maybe it'll be easier telling it to a stranger." She paused for a few beats and then added. "Then when I'm done, we wouldn't really be strangers anymore."
Now it was Nicole's turn to remain silent and just listen. Cynthia seemed to be looking far away, even though she was looking straight at her. The lawyer knew the older woman was looking past the mist of years past.
"Most of what you heard about the Jennifer Hallis story is pretty much true. My father was on the Board of Trustees for Sara Douglas, just as his father was before him. There was no way that they were going to tag the daughter and granddaughter of the Donnellys of Tarrytown with a lesbian label. So my own involvement in the incident was the first one removed. A stern facility monitor put an end to the parties and such, but she couldn't be everywhere and where there was a will there was always a way."
Nicole listened intently, her mind carefully absorbing every word.
"Right after graduation, my parents married me off to Courtney's father. It was almost an arranged marriage. It wasn't so bad at first. I liked men too and much to my own mother's horror, wasn't a virgin on my wedding night. We had a lot in common back then, and to be honest the prospect of the lesbian lifestyle back in the Eisenhower Era was non-existent. We were as happy as could be expected for the first year or so. Then things began to change."
"How so?" Nicole inquired.
"It would have been nice to say it was John who strayed first. Given his current predilection for such things, it would be easy to say. But if I'm going to set the lies to rest the truth will have to prevail. So I have to admit that I was the first one to break our vows. And as I'm sure you've discovered on your own, once you've crossed that forbidden line the first time, the second time is a lot easier."
"First time?" Nicole asked, a little confused.
"I say first time because it was a lot different in college than the real world. Even back then, you could do things that might not exactly be socially acceptable in college and get away with them. So I've always considered my first encounter with another woman outside of that safe and controlled environment as my first time."
Nicole saw that there was a certain sense to what she'd said and nodded.
"About a year and a half after we'd been married, long before I was pregnant with Courtney, we moved to San Francisco for John to take a graduate program out there. It seemed a good idea at the time."We were starting to have our problems, and a fresh start in a new location might've been just what we needed. As with most quick fixes, this didn't solve anything. We'd brought our problems with us.
Anyway, we'd gone out one night to a go-go bar - John's idea. I'm not sure if you really understand what one of those was; there's really no current equivalent. They'd have girls dancing either on stage or on podiums scattered around the club. Understand that these were dancers, not strippers and definitely not hookers. Although I was told there were other clubs that had both.
After the show, John had invited one of the dancers over to our table to have a drink. This in itself wasn't that unusual, as we'd been to similar clubs before and John had also invited dancers for a drink. What greatly surprised me this time was that the dancer was a young black woman. John had never shown any interest in black women before. And of course, this was the late 50's, years before interracial affairs were all the rage. Her name, if I recall correctly, was Diane. We chatted a while and had a few more drinks besides. Like he was wont to do, John flirted with the young lady who couldn't have been much more than 20. She seemed so young as I think about it, yet I was only 26 myself back then.
I suddenly became aware of a touch against my leg. At first, I chalked it up to John being playful under the small table, then realized it was on the wrong leg for it to be John. I turned to Diane, and with a smile, she acknowledged what was obviously an invitation. To this day, I don't know if she somehow knew I might be receptive or just tried that with any woman she found interesting, trusting that they wouldn't make a scene in front of their husbands.
I excused myself to use the ladies' room, and Diane said she'd join me. No sooner had the door closed behind us when she grabbed me and pushed me against the wall and kissed me. She hadn't even made sure that all the stalls were empty, trusting instead that there were few women in attendance that night and that the other dancers would use the restroom backstage.
I can still recall the taste of her lips against mine and the fire it sent through me. I was like a woman who'd been denied water for a long time, suddenly tossed into a clear pool of sweet liquid. We pulled at each other's clothes, and I found her lips now on my breasts, then her fingers against my clit. It couldn't have taken me more than a few minutes to reach orgasm, a climax that I still remember as leaving me weak in the knees. Then as quick as it all had been, it was all over. We made ourselves presentable and rejoined my husband. The only indication he ever had that something had changed that night was that he found me somewhat unresponsive later that night. Usually after a visit to one of those bars, I was as horny as could be. As we were leaving, John asked Diane for her phone number, saying that maybe the three of us could get together sometime. With a smile, she wrote it out and then ripped it in half when John wasn't looking. She handed him the top half, and while he concentrated on looking down her blouse, pressed the bottom half of the note into my hand. John's note turned out to contain the number for the public library. Mine was her home number. I was to have an affair with her that lasted until John graduated and we moved back east.
"So you like black women?" Nicole asked.
"I never really gave the color of her skin much thought," said Cynthia. "It was the person inside, not the wrapping she came in that interested me."
After that, I knew it was going to take some strong medicine to put the genie back in the bottle, so to speak. Medicine that John just wasn't able to supply. Still, we made the best of it all. We started our business when we got back home, and a family as well. Courtney's older brother, John Jr., who lives in Florida now, was born in '59. Sue, our other daughter, was born in '62 and lives with her husband and kids in New Jersey. After a while, your life tends to go on a sort of auto-pilot. You watch your kids grow, try to build a better life for them.
Sexually speaking, those were pretty dry years. John and I had occasional relations, enough to surprise me with a pregnancy for my 40th birthday. Courtney's birth brought another turning point into my life. In a direct cause-and-effect way, it led to my first real love affair with another woman, as opposed to the primarily sexual encounters I'd had in the past.
Nicole had to admit to herself that she found Cynthia's personal history to be fascinating.
Our company was undergoing some critical changes at that time, so I felt that it would be a bad idea for me to take a leave of absence like I'd done for John Jr. and Sue. So I hired a nurse/governess to watch after Courtney during the day. Her name was Sonja Brundtland, and she had just moved to the United States from Norway. Although ten years younger than me, Sonja and I became fast friends. As time passed, we discovered to our mutual delight that we shared a certain other taste as well. It was the first time I really felt for another woman on an emotional level. I guess it was that ease that we both felt around each other that caused us to become careless.
One snowy winter day, with all the kids off at their grandparents' and John off to the airport on yet another trip, Sonja and I settled down in front of the fireplace with a bottle of wine and each other. It wasn't long before that wine and a smile was all that we were wearing.
A rising storm had canceled John's flight, and he had reluctantly returned home. He would've preferred to have returned to his latest assistant's apartment to wait out the storm, but evidently she had a roommate that just wouldn't have understood. Since her roommate was 6'2" and built like a halfback, John decided not to test the point. Evidently she hadn't mentioned to her boyfriend that she was going on more than a business trip.
So anyway, there I was, naked as the day I was born and licking the wine off Sonja's breasts when I look up and see John standing over us. Not knowing what else to say, I picked up the empty crystal from the floor and asked if I could pour him a glass.
He wasn't amused, to say the least. And to be honest, I really didn't care. Our marriage had been a sham for so long that maybe it would be better to end it. He said that he wasn't going to be made a fool of in an open court, not to mention the effect it might have on the family-owned company. He'd been screwing one bimbo after another for years, and now that I'd finally found someone I cared about, he wasn't going to stand in my way.
He said he was willing to maintain a marriage in name only, not that our union had been much more than that for some time, but that Sonja would have to go. Not just out of our house, but out of my life. I told him where he could put that idea, and believe me, it wasn't in a pretty place. Where did he ever get the idea that I would ever go along with such a ridiculous arrangement?
That was when he dropped his bombshell. If I pressed for a divorce, he'd seek custody of all the kids. He said no judge, however liberal, was going to let a lesbian raise his kids. You have to remember that was twenty years ago, and reluctantly I had to admit he was right. It was both the hardest and at the same time, easiest decision I ever had to make. As much as I loved Sonja, I loved my children more. She left that night.
"Have you ever seen her since?" Nicole asked.
"I got a card from her about eight months later; she was going home to Norway. I never heard from her after that," Cynthia said.
Nicole didn't really hear what Cynthia said after that. Too many strange thoughts were flashing through her mind. In the twenty years since she had first realized she was attracted to other women, that attraction had never extended to an older woman. That was until this moment. Cynthia, she reminded herself, was old enough to be her mother. In fact, she was the mother of one of her friends. Yet as she looked at the woman, now only inches away from her, her appreciation of her beauty increased immensely, and age became irrelevant.
The fire in Nicole's breasts was reflected between her legs. It was obvious that the wetness there was caused by far more than the cool pool water. Never in her life had she wanted any woman as much as she wanted Cynthia at this moment. The haunting question was, did Cynthia feel the same way?
Unwilling to ask and risk rejection, equally unwilling to step back from the edge, Nicole let the flames of her desire take over and acted on instinct. She felt her body moving forward of its own accord, followed a brief moment later by the press of Cynthia's lips against her own.
Cynthia was taken by surprise by Nicole's kiss. It was a pleasant surprise all the same. It had been so many years since the older woman had felt the touch of another woman, she had almost forgotten how good it could be. In response to a gentle pressure against her lips, she opened her mouth and admitted the dark woman's invading tongue.
The touch of Cynthia's tongue against her own was enough to turn the brushfire within her into a raging inferno. She reached up and pulled Cynthia's face against her own, planting kiss after kiss on her willing lips. Each time, the blonde responded in turn, meeting the passion of Nicole's assault with her own.
"I wasn't sure how you'd react to that," Nicole said softly as she broke a final kiss.
"It was unexpected, but nice," Cynthia replied.
"Before anything else happens, maybe I should explain about Courtney and I....." Nicole said as she took a half step backward.
"Courtney already explained it all to me."Cynthia interrupted as she took hold of the younger woman's hand and kept her close. "And is this going to go any further?"
"Do you want it to?" Nicole asked as she closed her hand around Cynthia's in a reassuring grip.
Cynthia smiled. Three days ago, the idea of renewing her interest in lesbian sex would've never entered her mind. It had been so long since she'd entertained such thoughts. Yet, the simple act of unburdening herself to Nicole seemed to take decades off of her. The emotions of that bathroom tryst so long ago found new life.
Cynthia reached out and placed her open palms against Nicole's breasts. Wet and soft, they seemed to generate a heat all their own. Brushing her thumbs against the erect dark brown nipples brought a soft sigh from Nicole's mouth.
"I may be a little rusty at this," she quipped.
"I think you're doing fine," Nicole said as she pressed her body against Cynthia's own.
"I want you," Nicole said with conviction.
"And I you," was Cynthia's reply.
That was all the younger woman needed to hear. She reached up and pulled the straps of Cynthia's suit down over her shoulders, exposing her large plentiful mounds. No sooner were they exposed to the open air when her mouth was on them. With a savage hunger, she took Cynthia's equally large nipples between her teeth and lips. The thought that these were the same breasts that Courtney had once suckled at brought a sinful thrill to her. One which caused her inferno to blaze even hotter.
Even as her mouth feasted on Cynthia's bountiful charms, Nicole slid her hand underwater and between Cynthia's legs. Her fingers slid under the thin material of her suit and pressed against the bushy mouth within.
Now it was Cynthia's turn to moan as she felt the touch of a lover's hand where only she had touched for so very long. Then it moved to the center of the mound and rubbed against it. As her finger became lubricated by the wetness there, Nicole slowly slid it between the folds. A soft gasp escaped Cynthia's lips as Nicole slid the finger in and out, soon following it with a second.
"Oh yes," Cynthia said softly as she leaned back against the edge of the pool and enjoyed Nicole's dual ministrations.
The constant friction of Nicole's hand against her clit sent ripples of delight radiating out from Cynthia's pussy. Coupled with the delightful mixture of bites and gentle kisses on her breasts, it was enough to quickly bring her to the edge of ecstasy.
As the volume of the moans in Nicole's ears grew in intensity, so did the frequency of her penetrations. A small series of mini-quakes began to rock the older woman's body, heralding the arrival of a long absent rapture.
Suddenly, Cynthia's body stiffened as the cascading waves of bliss broke on the shoals of her sexuality. Her pulse raced and her breaths became shallow. Had she not already been immersed in water, her body would've been covered with sweat.
"Oh God!" she panted as she collapsed exhausted against the side of the pool. "I can't believe how long it's been since I felt so good."
"I can make you feel even better," Nicole purred as she pressed her cheek against Cynthia's.
"I'd like that," Cynthia replied.
Dripping wet, Nicole climbed out of the pool into the warm afternoon air. Cynthia followed close behind.
"I think I need a few minutes to catch my breath," Cynthia said as she sat on the beach chair poolside.
"Why don't you relax on this towel," Nicole suggested as she indicated the large oversized beach towel spread out on the ground. "I give a great massage."
"Sounds like an excellent suggestion," Cynthia laughed as she moved from the chair to the ground.
Now, out in the open, Nicole had a chance to get her first real look at Cynthia's nude form. If she hadn't already known her age, her guess would be at least a decade younger.
Of course the first thing any man or woman would've noticed were her prodigious breasts. The dark pink circles in the center of each were over two inches wide, the long stubs in the middle were thick and almost a quarter inch long. The rest of her body reflected the passage of years, most noticeably the gray and white of her pubic mound. Still, she was an attractive woman and could radiate a raw sexuality that Nicole found enticing.
Positioning herself in a kneeling position to Cynthia's right, Nicole began to massage her shoulders. Her grip could be both strong and gentle, working magic on the older woman's flesh. Expertly she worked her way down, applying pressure to the small of Cynthia's back before she moved outward to her arms.
Laying face down with her eyes closed, Cynthia was enjoying the massage. Nicole was better than the professional masseuse at the health club where she worked out.
A broad smile filled her face as she imagined what would be the reaction of her neighbor, Mrs. Carlsen if she were to look out her window right now. The sight of Cynthia naked, laying under an equally naked black woman half her age might be enough to give the snoopy biddy a heart attack. True, the houses were far apart to supposedly afford a large measure of privacy, but there had been a few times Cynthia had spotted Mrs. Carlsen standing on her porch with her telescope pointed at anything but the heavens.
"Oooo," Cynthia sighed as she felt Nicole's hands press against her buttocks. "That feels good."
Nicole continued down along the older woman's legs, then began working her way upward once more. When she got back to Cynthia's shoulders, she swung her leg over the prone form and straddled her new love.
Lowering herself, she pressed her own not unimpressive breasts against the small of Cynthia's back and rubbed them up and down. She continued bottomward retracing the path she had just completed, this time replacing her hands with her generous mounds.
"Mmmm, that feels even better," Cynthia commented.
This time, Nicole paused at Cynthia's wide bottom and began to cover it with soft kisses. She spread her cheeks and kissed the sensitive area in between. Reaching inward with her tongue, she caressed her anal entry. Cynthia jumped with excitement, no one had ever done that to her. As Nicole continued to probe Cynthia's nether region, she reached down between her legs and again rubbed the swollen clit she had so stimulated a short time before. This again brought a series of pleasing moans to her ears.
"Roll over," she said as she lifted herself to give Cynthia room.
More than happy to comply, Cynthia shifted onto her back. Nicole quickly lowered herself once more and replaced her finger with her tongue. Already saturated, Cynthia's pussy offered no resistance to the hard tip of Nicole's tongue. It slid effortlessly into its dark recess, bringing with it a whole new series of erotic delights.
A small residue of sticky film from her recent orgasm still remained. Nicole quickly licked it clean, savoring the taste. She took a moment to compare the flavor to Courtney's. While different, it was just as pleasing.
Not content to just lay back, Cynthia took hold of the back of Nicole's head and pressed her deeper into the crevice between her legs. Right now she couldn't care if the entire town council, of which she was a member, was pulling up the driveway. All that mattered was that Nicole left her tongue exactly where it was.
Again, it didn't take long for Nicole's experienced touch to drive Cynthia over the brink. Spreading her legs wide to give Nicole the widest possible access, Cynthia bucked forward with each dart of Nicole's eager tongue. Repeatedly it slid in and out of her moist hole, then up and down the length of her cunt before sliding inward once more.
"Oh God, I'm cumming again!" Cynthia shouted.
While the explosion that rocked her body wasn't as powerful as the one which had preceded it, still it was more than enough. Her face pressed tightly against Cynthia's mound, Nicole quickly lapped up the results of her efforts. Undiluted by the water which had mixed with her last orgasm, the feminine ambrosia made Nicole hunger for more.
Now it was Nicole's turn. She quickly began licking her way up the length of Cynthia's body. She paused at her breasts just long enough to give each a playful kiss. A kiss that was repeated against Cynthia's willing lips.
Lifting herself upward, Nicole continued until her breasts were even with those selfsame lips. Balancing herself on one hand, Nicole lifted her right breast and offered it to Cynthia.
It was an offering that the blonde woman was eager to take. She lifted herself up until her lips closed on the dark brown nipple, sucking it deep into her mouth.
It had been more years than Cynthia cared to remember, but the taste of honey that she always associated with a woman's breasts quickly brought back memories of how to please. Her own tongue tickled the tip of the chocolate nipple, then ran circles around the dark aureole. Then she left a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles down the side of the lighter tan globe and up the side of its twin. Nicole couldn't help but be impressed by the older woman's skill.
As much as she wanted to attend to the fire between her legs, a blaze that was crying for attention, Nicole wanted to wait until she was sure Cynthia had her fill. Finally, she sensed Cynthia's desire for her ebony orbs had been satisfied and pulled them from her mouth.
Cynthia reluctantly released her hold on the chocolate delight held between her lips, mindful that even greater delights were still to come. She eased herself back against the towel even as Nicole moved even further upward, until her legs were on each side of Cynthia's head - her own dark mound inches from her face.
The scent of Nicole's womanhood filled Cynthia's nostrils, moments before the younger woman lowered herself and filled her mouth with the taste to go with the aroma.Like an eager schoolgirl, Cynthia reached out and duplicated the actions Nicole had so aptly demonstrated on her. Her thoughts drifted backward to years gone by, and to lovers long since forgotten. Until this moment, she didn't realize how much she had missed this, or how much she envied her daughter for having had the strength to follow her conviction.
The thought of Courtney and the fact that she was in exactly the same position she'd seen her in last night, with the same lover, was a fact that she found highly erotic. She wondered if Nicole felt the same way.
If Nicole were willing to share her thoughts, she couldn't find the voice to do so. Every aspect of her being was centered on the tongue within her cunt and the unbelievable feeling of joy that was radiating from it. Over the years, Nicole had more lovers than she could easily recall. Some had been better than others. Through it all, Nicole had considered herself a skillful lover, but she had to admit that she could take lessons from Cynthia.
Hands pressed tightly against the soft buns of Nicole's ass, Cynthia pulled her lover as close as she could. Nicole moaned again and again as Cynthia's tongue worked its way deep within her. The more the tangy taste of sweat and cum filled her mouth, the more intense became Cynthia's desire to bring the girl to a new level of euphoria.
Finally, Nicole's body tensed and she arched her body, stretching out her arms for support. She trembled with indescribable ecstasy as a rushing wave of girlcum burst across Cynthia's pulsating tongue and open mouth. Pressing her face as far within the girl's open valley as she could, Cynthia swallowed surge upon surge of womanly joy. It was like sweet nectar, bringing with it the memories of youth. She made herself a promise that it wouldn't be anywhere near as long before she tasted it again.
So intense had been Nicole's eruption that Cynthia was unable to swallow all of it. Small drippings of the precious fruit of her efforts ran off her chin and down to her breasts. Her mouth and nose were likewise covered with a sweet film of girljuice.
"Who says you can't go back again," Cynthia said to herself as Nicole laid down beside her.
She pulled the younger woman closer and kissed her again, the taste of female love still on her lips.
Later that night, Cynthia and Nicole were laying in bed together, enjoying each other's company. The phone rang and Cynthia reluctantly answered it.
"Hi Mom!" said an excited Courtney. "How's everything going?"
"Oh everything's fine, sweetheart," Cynthia answered as she tried to keep from laughing as Nicole tickled under her breast.
"How are you getting along with Nicole?" Courtney asked. "I'm hope you really didn't mind my telling her it was OK to spend the weekend."
"Oh, no problem," Cynthia beamed as she playfully slapped Nicole's hand. "In fact, we've been getting along fabulously."
"Really?"
"Oh, you know how it is with the girls of Delta Theta Phi..." Cynthia laughed. "It's just a matter of finding a common taste." | 3 |
4,246 | Marie Clair - PARTY GAMES (new) | "Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and Girls, ice cream and cake is served. You kids sit over here and watch while we unfasten Marie Clair's arms for a few minutes. She may need to go to the bathroom after drinking all that pop at dinner," announced Mrs. Hardman to the world.
While people were changing places and setting up some folding chairs nearby, Mrs. Hardman whispered in Marie Clair's ear to see if indeed she did need to go to the bathroom.
"Ummmgh, ummm," which Mrs. Hardman interrupted as "Yes, ma'am."
"Inga, bring it in," ordered Mrs. Hardman while two men unfastened her arms and helped her stand up, but they still restrained her hands. They did not unfasten her feet. Marie Clair felt herself being lowered onto a seat right there in the living room.
"Hold her knees apart. If you kids want to watch her pee, you can come over in front." Marie Clair heard the five of them come over to sit under the table, very close to her. "OK, Marie Clair, you can go now."
"Unnggh. Unnnn," She wiggled as the pressure on her bladder mounted in her upright position. She was thinking how much better she would feel once she had gone. And, "There's no way I could be any more embarrassed than I already have been," she was thinking to herself. So she went ahead and started peeing with her knees held apart on the little portable toilet and two men holding her arms out. Then she farted! How embarrassing! As the pee started again, she farted again. The children were roaring with laughter as she finished and squeezed out the last drops with another fart.
When the laughter subsided, Dr. Hardman continued his instruction, "When you put your fingers into her bottom, some air got pushed in. That's why she farted. So don't laugh too much, it's not her fault. Now we'll wipe her off with warm washcloths and dry her."
After she was cleaned, they helped her stand again, feet still wide apart, fastened to the table legs. "If any of you kids want to feel her some more while she's standing up, go ahead. Notice how her breasts stick out like lemons while she is standing? She doesn't really need a bra to support them, does she?"
The boys laughed in agreement and began to feel her.
"Look, her pink nipples are getting stiff again. She must like this," observed Brian.
Heather's small fingers felt different to Marie Clair, but there was no way to object, as Heather experimented with one then the other breast - squeezing, lifting and letting it drop, twisting and pinching the nipple. Marie Clair moaned in spite of herself.
She heard people bringing in the plates of ice cream and cake and then felt her feet being unfastened from the table and refastened to a bar of some kind which kept her feet about 2 1/2 feet apart - the bar resting behind her ankles and extending about four inches past her ankles on either side. They fastened her wrist cuffs to another bar which kept her arms straight out. They took off her shoes and socks so she could get better footing. They led her back from the table, taking wide steps, unable to get one foot within 2 feet of the other. She was able to take short forward steps by leaning her weight to the side and hopping the other foot forward. The other kids laughed as she practiced.
"Maybe she needs some spankings to speed her up," suggested Brian, laughing to the point of coughing.
"That might help her learn faster," agreed one of the adults. "But let's have our ice cream and cake first."
Two of the men helped Marie Clair sit down. Then they laid her back onto some pillows so the bar would not hurt her back. "OK, kids. Anybody want to eat some icing off the 'Little Marie' table?" and Marie Clair felt someone put a spoonful of icing on each nipple. "We'll wipe her off after each person gets done so you won't get any germs," and then he put a dab of icing into her belly button and another on her thigh. "We'll put icing on different spots and you can lick it off."
"Can I do it, too?" asked Heather. "I want to try it. Can I eat her belly button? Please, please. I want to play, too."
"Well, of course, Dear," answered Heather's Mom and Mrs. Hardman at the same time, laughing, "Settle down, you'll get plenty of time to play with our birthday girl."
For the next five minutes, Marie Clair could feel the kids eating the icing off her. She was quickly wiped off as each spot was licked clean, and another dab was placed somewhere else. Marie Clair was wiggling around as the tongues tickled her tummy, legs, breasts, and neck. She could not tell who was who but hoped she would get to see the video later. The dabs near her lower tummy kept getting placed closer to her mound - then on the top of her slit.
She tried to sit up but couldn't get her balance because one of the kids kept wanting to eat icing off her neck, chin and even her lips which were stretched over the rubber ball with the strap through it.
All the kids were enjoying themselves and the adults enjoyed watching. One of the boys kept licking lower and lower on her slit. Heather was playing with one of her breasts with her fingers.
"OK, kids. Let's stand her up now. Let's watch her practice walking."
Marie Clair could take short, hopping steps. She waited several seconds between each step, wondering why she heard the table being rolled away.
"Brian, since you had the idea of how to speed her up, take this paddle and we'll all see if your idea works," suggested Mrs. Hardman.
With a gleam in his eye, Brian took the paddle and walked over behind her. Marie Clair stood up straighter, trying to tell by sound where he was standing. SMACK! right on her fanny. SMACK! SMACK! two more hard ones in the same spot sent her in a hopping gallop with her feet hardly staying on the ground. The crowd applauded Brian's training methods. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and she was practically running in a wide circle, unable to get away from Brian who was spurred on by the laughter and clapping of the audience. "Bravo, Brian!" "That's got her going!" "Good job, Lad!" "See how her titties jiggle, Mommy?" "Perfect aim, Brian!" "Harder!" and other comments as he 'trained' her to go faster for several minutes.
He stopped spanking and she slowed down, then stopped, trying to guess where he was. Everyone got quiet as she slowly turned around in the center of the floor. Brian was smiling broadly as she unknowingly turned her red bottom right towards him. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and he followed her around the floor, walking, while she tried to get away again - galloping as fast as she could, and jiggling all the way around the room. The crowd cheered as he spanked her about every five seconds, speeding her up.
"Let's let her rest a minute," Mr. Long finally interceded.
"Maybe the other children would like to help you 'train' her," said Mrs. Hardman. "You can give her some more 'standing up spankings' - front and back, while she tries to walk around. Now, how does she like them, kids - hard or soft?"
"Hard!" answered all the kids at once. They ran to get their favorite paddles, belts, and so forth. Heather grabbed the belt which worried some of the other would-be spankers who admired her enthusiasm but did not trust her aim. Two men led Marie Clair back to the center of the room and moved the remaining chairs and other furniture out of the way.
Dr. Hardman pronounced, "Brian will get a prize for the hardest spank so far."
Robby got back just as the men let go of her and smacked her mound with the stir stick. As she turned around to hobble away from him, he smacked her harder on the fanny with the wooden paddle. He had a paddle in each hand! As she tried to hobble away, she felt the belt slap the back of her leg just above the knee.
"Maybe we'd better just let 2 kids spank at a time," suggested Dr. Hardman - his request an order. Mr. Long became the judge and timer, letting Brian and Heather go first. Mr. Jones was the camera operator.
Heather's next swing with the belt hit her on the side of the hip as she turned so that the tip of the belt smacked directly onto her pussy, which bent Marie Clair over. As she bent over, Brian smacked her fanny with the riding crop - standing her quickly back up again. The adults and kids all laughed as Marie Clair hobbled around, making her lemon-shaped titties jiggle and bounce.
After 3 minutes of spanking, the referee said to stop and to go kiss and rub the birthday girl. Of course, Heather liked the 'kiss' idea and went right for her titties - just below her mouth level.Brian asked if he could check her wetness while he tenderly rubbed her bottom. The judges looked at each other and then nodded in silent permission. Reaching between her legs from behind, his finger slipped all the way into her pussy - no resistance at all. "She likes this game," he announced sagely, holding up a glistening, wet finger to the crowd awaiting his verdict.
Applause and laughter.
"Three Cheers for Maire Clair!" said Mr. Long.
"And three chairs for the helpful spankers!" said several grown-ups.
"See, the kids are learning a lot playing this game," commented one of the parents. "And I'm glad Marie Clair is enjoying her role, too."
"The next two spankers are Billy and Nick. Are you ready, boys?" asked Mr. Long.
"No, I'm waiting for the belt," said Nick.
"Here it is," offered Heather. "But can I test her wetness before I sit down? Please, I want to test her, too."
"Sure, Honey," answered Mrs. Hardman.
Heather started fingering Marie Clair with gusto - slipping two fingers at once into the stationary Marie Clair. "Bet that feels good, doesn't it Marie Clair?" chided Nick as he tested a short piece of the belt on her fanny.
"Don't be mean, Nick," warned his mother.
"But she said in the video that she likes it hard," protested Nick with a wicked grin. "And I bet I can spank harder than Brian!"
Laughing agreement, "You're right, Honey. Spank her as hard as you want."
"Go!" said the referee.
SMACK went the belt across the tops of the backs of Marie Clair's legs. And less than a second later, the riding crop smacked her bare pubic mound in an upward blow. Marie Clair began hopping and turning as the boys gleefully spanked her, thinking her noises expressed pleasure. The belt continued to strike the backs, sides, and fronts of her legs from her knees on up, sometimes wrapping to the inside. The stinging blows also hit her fanny and sometimes the tip of the belt stung the front of her pussy.
The crowd was laughing as Marie Clair jumped around, hobbled by the two poles attached to ankles and wrists. "Look how her titties jiggle, Mommy," giggled Heather. "She is so funny."
"Break!" interrupted the referee after just two minutes.
"But that wasn't three minutes," objected Nick's mother. "Start all over."
The red lines around her legs and fanny and across her lower tummy showed everyone where the blows had been landing.
"OK. They can have another two minutes with different paddles," said the referee, "But first they might want to let her rest while they check her wetness."
Mr. Long wanted to give her time to catch her breath. "Marie Clair, try to squat down and open your legs for the boys. That's a good birthday girl," as she spread her knees, hunching her pussy forward for their easy inspection.
She wanted them to keep inspecting her for two reasons.
Mr. Long had an idea for making it a little easier for the nervous contestant. Her perspiration mingled with her perfume, giving off a sweet aroma. Her whole body glistened with her sweat, and there was also a slippery trail of thicker wetness down the insides of her legs.
"Boy, this is fun, Nick. Isn't it?" as they each inserted a finger into her slippery pussy at the same time - for a very tight fit.
"Help me kneel her down. Why don't you do some softer front spanks while she puts her head and shoulders down on this pillow with her fanny up in the air?"
"Sure," said the boys.
"Well, I would rather just feel her titties some more," said Billy.
"Let me give the birthday girl her choice," said Mr. Long. "If you want some gentle 'front spanks' and want Billy to feel your titties instead of spanking you, just lean forward and put your head on the pillows. If you want them to see how hard they can spank you for a few more minutes, then stand up." With that, she knelt down immediately.
Nick looked at her upturned fanny and changed his mind. "I would rather put my fingers in her holes instead of spanking her."
Mr. Long thought this over. "I'll ask the birthday girl again. If you would rather have Nick put his fingers in you instead of giving you a front spanking, then put your knees farther apart."
And - her knees slid wider apart on the wood floor as she arched her back, tilting her 'holes' up for easier access.
"I want to, too, Mommy. Please. Can I finger her again?"
"You already had a turn, but maybe Nick will let you do a few for him."
"No," said Nick. "I want to do all fourteen in each hole myself."
While the crowd was ordering more drinks from Inga, Heather went over and whispered something into Nick's ear.
Billy was happily fondling Marie Clair's firm, young breasts as the crowd refocused on the next round of fun after getting their drinks.
"I'm going to show Heather how to put her fingers into the birthday girl, Mom. She hasn't tested Marie's fanny yet. Ahem, Marie Clair, listen up. I want to show Heather how to put a finger in your fanny. Your challenge is to squeeze so tight that I can't put my finger in. But first I'm going to put lots of your juice in, so relax while I do that. Put your knees a little farther apart if you accept my challenge."
Marie put her knees even farther apart, arching her back more so that her chest was completely on the floor. Mr. Long put more pillows under her outstretched hands so the bar wouldn't press into her back. Nick dipped out some of her lubricant and began pushing it into her bottom, until his finger slipped easily in and out. "OK, now try to squeeze so hard that I won't be able to get my finger in. Wiggle your ass if you're ready."
Marie Clair wiggled her fanny back and forth, then tightened her anus as tight as she could and waited.
Nick got his finger wet again, waited a moment, placed his fingertip on her puckered anus, and then pushed slowly in - all the way, while turning his hand back and forth slowly as he pressed.
"See Heather, that's how you do it," explained the triumphant Nick. The audience clapped and laughed again as Heather got her fingers wet and tried first with one finger - then two, while Nick probed the front hole.
more to come... What's going to happen before all the guests leave? Let me know your suggestions and comments. [email protected] Let me know if you missed any parts - or if you want to see other stories (Most of my stories are posted at www.mrdouble.com and at www.spiralzone.com) Do you have a story to share? Parts of all my stories are based on stories shared by readers. | 1 |
4,247 | Reunion | "A world turns to the edge of night,
the moon and stars so very bright...
Your face glows in the candlelight,
It's all because tonight's the night..."
It was our song, mine and Diane's. It was the song that played when we first met, the song we sang to on our first date, that rang in our ears with that first kiss, that played softly in the background the first time we made love...
"Now hold my hand and take this ring
As we unite in harmony...
We can begin to live the dream,
The dream that's made for you and me..."
It signified all of our hopes, our dreams, our fantasies all rolled up into one. For a long time, we had planned to make our lives together. Granted, there were her other lovers to consider, but both of us figured that wouldn't stop us from being with each other for a long time to come.
And suddenly, one day, she was gone.
"To be together...
For the first time in our lives it's us
together... As married man and wife, we'll be
together From now on, until death do us part, and
even then I hope that our love lasts forever..."
For about a year, Diane and I had one of the more torrid love affairs that any man or woman had ever seen. I took time out of my school schedule to travel across Europe with her; she took time out of her working life to visit me anywhere in the country I happened to be. I loved her more than anything else in the world... something that I think might have contributed to our later problems.
Why? Because I became what I despised. I had made a clean, final break with my former girlfriend, Angela, after a Thanksgiving holiday which saw a whole lot more taking from both of us than giving. I professed my love for Angela even as I knew I had to leave her, and the strain was too much for her heart to handle.
Unfortunately, the amount of energy I put into my relationship with Diane began to be a drain on her. Even as I was trying not to be a burden on her, I unconsciously was one, as she felt guilty about not being able to respond to the amount of effort and such that I was putting into our relationship.
"I promise to be always true
Until the very end's in view.
In good times, and the bad times, too,
I know that we can make it through..."
We tried. God, how we tried. But ultimately, it wasn't enough - or maybe it was too much. As we took a ferry past the Statue of Liberty one brisk April day, Diane began to talk about what we had. For her, the burden of our relationship was so great that it was crushing all of her other ones, and she said that day that it was time for her to go.
Both of us cried long and hard that day... for a couple of weeks, I lost my composure completely and convinced myself that she had abandoned me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the problem was not her... it was me. Simply put, I had tried desperately to be everything for her, and there was no way she - or anyone else - could have responded in kind. Not with her lifestyle... not with her other lovers... not with her feelings.
I had come to love Diane so much that all the reasons she had come to love me had evaporated. And it was only after she told me goodbye that I realized it.
"As one united we'll be strong,
because together we belong...
If I could sing to you a song,
I'd sing of love that can't go wrong..."
We stayed in touch after that, writing letters, calling each other a lot, and after my initial breaking down, we managed to remain friends... but I never gave up on her, never gave up on thinking that maybe, just maybe, we could have what we once had. Even after two years, I still held out hope for it... but realistically, my hopes for us began to fall apart.
I sought, and had other lovers, but none like Diane. It seemed like every day, I had fantasies that I couldn't cast away; while at night, the erotic dreams and thoughts of making love to her were almost terrifying.
"If we're together...
We can make a brand new life for us together... As
married man and wife, we'll stay together From now
on, until death do us part... and even then I hope
that our love lasts forever..."
I sat at the table, listening to the song. "It's no use," I said to myself, with tears in my eyes. "It's time for me to get on with my life... there's no way in the world I'll ever have her in my life again, not the way I want it." I broke down at this admission, sobbing uncontrollably, knowing that all the prayers, all the hoping, and everything I'd done wasn't good enough, that I was destined to live my life without the lovely, sexy, wonderful Diane.
And then the doorbell rang.
"Now hold my hand and take this ring
As we unite in harmony...
We can begin to live the dream,
the dream that's meant for you and me..."
"Are you OK, Andy?"
It was as if I was hallucinating. There was Diane, in the doorway, with a dozen roses in her hands... for me. *Me*!
"I'm in town for a conference with some regional accountants," Diane said, "and I really need a place to stay... you're the first person I thought of... is everything all right?"
I shook my head. "Diane, it's not even close," I said, about to burst into tears again. "I..."
"Shhhh." Diane put her finger to my lips. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. Just come over here to the sofa and relax."
I did as she asked, with the tears still flowing down my cheeks. For the longest time, neither of us said a word. Diane wrapped her arms around me, and we locked each other in a loving embrace. Part of me loved it, but another part thought of this as some sort of torture, feeling that nothing could happen between Diane and I and that this goddess of a woman was brought back to torment me.
After a few minutes, Diane loosened her hold on me, and whispered.
"Tell me what you're feeling, Andy," she said. "Tell me what's troubling you so."
I hadn't intended to say anything... but as I gazed into her eyes, I found that look of caring, of trust, of *love*.
The same one I fell in love with in the first place.
"Diane," I said, with a single tear rolling down my cheek, "the more I've been thinking about it, I've come to realize some things. I'm not perfect... our relationship from before is certainly proof of that.
"But I've been trying to show you for the last two years that I *have* changed for the better, and can give you the kind of love that you want and need... and that I *want* to give you that. I don't ask any favors; for that matter, I don't ask anything except for you to still care about me. And it doesn't seem to get through.
"Diane..." I paused again, not knowing what words to come up with. "Two years ago, I fell in love with you because of the person you were. That person hasn't changed... and neither have my feelings. Diane, I love you... and I don't think I can ever be happy without you."
I gestured to the room around me, and took her hand. "Look around you, Diane... I don't have a lot of money, I don't have a lot of material possessions, and I may not be as organized as the lovers you have back home. But what I do have, Diane, is a kind and loyal heart... one that breaks every time I know you're not here."
By now, both of us had tears in our eyes. "I need you, Diane. I want to be yours," I said. "Every thought, every dream, every touch, I think of you. I know you must think I'm a hopeless romantic or something, and you'd probably be right." We both giggled at that.
"But it's all true," I said. "And I can honestly say that no matter what lovers come into our lives, there's nobody else I can ever love more than you."
With that, I kissed her on the cheek.
Diane had listened patiently for all of this, eyes moistening even as she was trying desperately to hold back the tears.
"I know it's true, Andy," she said. "That's one of the reasons I came out here... I've come to the same conclusions."
My heart stopped; was I really hearing this?
"I had a fight with a friend last night," Diane said. "She can't understand why I still talk to you like I do... and when I thought about it, two things leapt out in my mind. The first one is that I've been an absolute fool for not keeping my mind open."
"And the second?" I whispered."That all this time, I had been missing out on one of the few people
who had stuck by me through thick and thin, no matter what," she said.
"And I've been trying to turn my back on it and pretend that what we
really have between us just isn't there."
She looked at me longingly. "I'm not about to have one exclusive lover,
you know me better than that... but I've never stopped caring about you,
Andy. In fact, I think I can honestly say that..." Her voice faltered.
Despite myself, a gentle smile crossed my lips. "Maybe not?"
Diane giggled. "I suppose not," she said. "But that doesn't mean I don't
need you in my life... and that I don't want you. Because I do want
you... now more than ever."
No further words were necessary.
The first kiss I'd had from her in two years was even more electric than
our first one in that hotel room, so long ago... perhaps because I now
knew what I had in her. My hands ran down her back so slowly, so gently,
but holding her tight as if I never wanted to let her go... which I
didn't.
I could feel Diane's heart pounding a mile a minute against my chest,
and her labored breathing as her hands caressed my shoulders and ran
down my arms. It didn't take long for my pulsing cock to grow very
tightly against my slacks... or for her to notice it.
In response, she brought her legs up and wrapped them around me,
settling her crotch right on top of mine. As our kiss continued, harder
and with much more passion, she began to move against me, and her face
became flushed with an arousal like none I'd ever seen.
Remembering our first time together, I didn't want to keep her waiting.
After carefully setting her glasses aside, I pulled her shirt off and
quickly unfastened her bra, letting that fall to the sofa. Just as
quickly, she pulled my shirt off, almost ripping it as she threw it away
from me.
My hands began to play with Diane's breasts, first cupping them, then
massaging each nipple with my fingertips. She responded almost madly,
nibbling lightly into my shoulder blades and flickering her tongue
against the side of my neck. At this, I eased her back and gently backed
away, caressing her already hot cunt through the fabric of her thin
jeans. I stood up, took her hand in mine, and led her to the bedroom,
closing the door behind me.
Diane practically began to attack me, backing me up against the bed and
pushing her crotch against mine, even as she reached down to unzip my
pants. As she did so, I guided my hands to her backside and pulled her
to me, caressing each cheek and causing her to whimper in pleasure.
All of my remaining clothes were gone in moments, and I helped her step
out of her blue jeans. I just stood and looked at her for a moment,
marveling in the fact that two years had not only not made her look
worse, but had made her look even more like a goddess than ever. I only
had a moment, though, because Diane was all over me, taking a nipple
into her mouth one minute and caressing my manhood with her hand the
next.
I turned her around and guided her onto the bed, as gently as I could
while still letting her know that I meant business. Almost as quickly,
she turned so that she was on top of me. Before I even knew it, she was
raising her body, then slowly lowering it onto my upright cock.
It was as if it was my first time all over again. Diane began to bounce
up and down on my hardness, running her fingers along my spine as her
lips kissed me like, frankly, I hadn't ever been kissed before.
We maneuvered ourselves so that we were both sitting up and so I was
doing most of the work, thrusting into her with her legs wrapped around
me and our bodies interlocked so close together. Every movement I made,
every action she took, registered in both of our bodies.
It didn't take long for her eyes to close and her breathing to get more
and more ragged. I ran my fingertips over the sides of her body, not
touching her breasts, but just getting close enough so that she knew I
was there.
As I did so, I felt her hands begin to grip my back tighter and tighter,
and I began to feel her body tremble against mine, which was her
telltale sign that she was about to lose control completely. I began
thrusting into her harder, faster, not caring what happened to me, but
rather wanting her to reach *her* peak.
And peak she did. From deep in her throat, I heard an almost breathless
"Oh, God..." that got increasingly louder and louder until finally her
nails were digging into my back and she was shouting, "Oh GOD, Andy!
YESSS..."
After what seemed like forever, Diane slowed down, and I asked her how
she felt. "Oh, please..." she said, "please come..." To this day, she
swears that she never saw a look of pure animal lust in my eyes like she
did that day... I can safely say I never saw a glazed-over, *needy* look
like I saw in her eyes at that moment.
I turned her over onto her stomach and hopped off the bed long enough to
grab a silk tie from my closet. My bed is one where I don't have a real
headboard, but rather have a row of six thin posts where a headboard
should be. I came back on the bed and kissed my way down her spine
madly, and paused just long enough to tie Diane's wrists in front of
her, around the posts.
My fingers and tongue probed down her back, tracing little trails along
her spine, and I could feel her body shudder in response. My mouth
kissed her lower and lower... then I wet a finger and began to play
around her anus with it, making her whimper in pleasure and want. In
response, she began to thrust her soaked pussy towards me.
Who was I to resist? I lowered my face down and tentatively licked
around the folds of her labia, trying to make her beg me to make love to
her again. The more I licked, however, the more desirous *I* became. My
body was trembling... I *needed* Diane.
Without warning, I came around so that I was almost riding on top of
her, positioning my rigid member so that it was right at the very edge
of her sex, and I slowly pushed her forward. Swiftly, she pushed her
entire body back so that I was completely enveloped by her wet,
intensely aroused pleasure center.
My hands came around to her chest and began caressing her breasts with a
palpable intensity, as her hips ground back against mine, so that every
thrust I made into Diane's body sent shivers up both my spine and hers.
I leaned over and kissed her neck, and she did her best to try and kiss
me back as my cock continued to pound into her.
All at once, she stood still, and her body started trembling again...
just as that familiar (and welcome) tingle started spreading from my
member throughout my body. As I began to moan, I heard her say, "Oh,
please... oh, PLEASE... OH GOD..." as she tightened around me in almost
a vice grip as I continued to buck my hips against her.
All at once I started going crazy, as my come started pouring out of me
and into Diane... I knew I was shouting, but I didn't care... and
neither did Diane, as she shouted her pleasure along with me, for what
seemed like hours...
After a couple of moments of just being spent, I slowly withdrew from
her, collapsing onto the bed with an arm wrapped around her tired
shoulders. I bent over to kiss her, but I couldn't help but notice her
tears.
"Diane, are you ok?" I asked.
She nodded for a moment. "Yes... I just can't believe that I've passed
this up for so long... it's not just the sex, though. It's this
closeness, this feeling of admiration, of caring, of... of love. I can't
believe I let this go."
I kissed her lightly on the lips, and said to her, "We'll never have to
have that happen again, darling... I'm here for as long as you want me.
But then, you've always known that."
Diane smiled. "I know... it's just that words have always failed me..."
I smiled, and put in a cassette tape of our song. "Maybe these words
will help..." She couldn't help but giggle as the song began,
whispering, "You hopeless romantic, you."
I looked at her closely, and gave her what I hoped was my best loving
look. "We don't need words, Diane..."
She smiled, with a tear still in her eye, and turned to kiss me again.
And our song played on...
THE END...FOR NOW. :> | 5 |
4,282 | Skirt | "I'm so tired of winter," Laura said to herself, rubbing a red fleece jacket between thumb and finger. A wry smile tickled her face as she let a warm spring thought pass by. Laura turned slightly and pushed her way between two overstuffed racks of blouses to reach a thick ring of hanging slacks. Pushing hard on the loops of stiff wire, Laura opened a short space and began flipping the thin strips of black, grey, blue, and tan past her hand, continuing her constant hunt for something.
She lifted a pair of pants, royal blue cotton size eight, and then held it beside her hips. Laura hooked the hanger over her finger and resumed flipping dexterously through the garments. Another pair made the transition to her finger, and then another. Laura sighed, wondering if she shouldn't have gone to look at furniture instead. "I don't really need pants," she thought.
A flip of brown tweed revealed a black skirt, out of place. Laura pulled back the fabric to check the size and then lifted the skirt. "Isn't that cute," she thought and then frowned. "Where could I wear it?" She held it to her waist. "Short," she smiled, "with my blue silk blouse and some dark stockings." Laura's face grew serious, and she looked around. "About five years ago, maybe." She imagined feeling the heat of Tom's glare as he ridiculed her for trying to act younger than she was and started to put the skirt back. "Honestly, Laura," she said to herself, "he's never done that." She hooked the skirt's hanger onto her finger and looked around the clothed walls to find the fitting room.
Weaving her way between overstuffed racks, Laura finally reached the back corner of the department and looked around for some guidance. Walking past a large mound of unfolded clothes and a box overflowing with clear plastic hangers, she pulled the knob of a white slatted door. Laura stepped into the empty square space and tossed her purse and shopping bag on an upholstered box bench. Hanging up her goods, she closed the door.
A large mirror filled the wall. Laura smiled at her reflection as she took off her coat and hung it beside the pants and black skirt. "I still look good," she thought, turning her hips slightly to study the feminine curves of her body. Watching herself, Laura unbuckled the small brass buckle and unclasped her pants. The beige fabric slid down her thighs and fell into folds at her feet. Lifting up the slacks with her toe, Laura folded and then laid them over her purse. She took another glance at herself in the mirror as she loosened the hug of her cream lace panties. Laura smiled, shyly.
"Come here," she heard a younger woman say in a deliberate but hushed voice. Laura looked back at the still closed door. "C'mon," the girl said, slightly exasperated. Laura looked up to realize the walls ended at about eight feet, leaving four more between the cubicle top and the ceiling. Laura reached for the royal blue pants and began to step into them. Another door clicked shut.
"Sit down," the girl said. Laura closed the waist of the pants and turned to see her bottom in the mirror. "C'mon," said the voice from behind the glass. Laura stroked the fabric down the back of her thigh. The pants hung shapelessly.
"Am I going to get in trouble?" a deeper voice asked. Laura opened her mouth, astonished.
"She's got a guy in there," Laura thought, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
"Yes, you are," teased the girl. "Now sit down. I've got to pick out something for Jack's party. This is easier and they don't care."
Laura slipped off the royal blues and tossed them toward the corner. Pulling a grey pair from the hanger, she leaned over to step into them.
"This is sexy," the man said. Laura grinned as she pulled on the pants. "You look great."
"You like?" the girl asked. "Let me put on a dress now."
Laura turned to look at the pants in the mirror, grinning. "These look pretty good," she thought. She turned and stood on her toes, pressing the fabric over her bottom. "Nice," she thought.
"What do you think?" the girl asked.
"That's great," the deeper voice replied.
Laura turned again, trying to decide. "The sweater clashes," she thought and pulled the brown wool over her head. She shook slightly with a sudden chill, jiggling the creamy flesh of her full breasts in their lace encasement.
"I like that a lot," he said. The girl squealed softly.
"Sit down and let me try another one," she ordered. Laura nodded to herself and took off the grey pants. "If you don't sit down, I'm going to scream for help."
"I'll tell them you dragged me in here."
"Who do you think they'll believe?" she asked gaily. "The big brute or the naked girl?"
"Depends on the jury," he said, his voice low, almost threatening.
Laura took down the skirt and stepped into it. The fabric squeezed her hips tightly as she shimmied the black cylinder up toward her waist. She wiggled as she worked into the snug hold. "I can't," Laura thought, grinning lewdly. "They're indecent."
"Wow," the man said. "You look great."
"You like?" she asked.
"Wow," he repeated.
Laura turned to look at herself from behind. "Naughty," she thought. She bent a little at the waist and caught a glimpse of her panties. "Tom would just die."
"Scott," the girl said, the words emphatic and muffled. "What are you...?"
Raising a curious eyebrow, Laura paused. She stood still and stared breathlessly at her own smiling reflection, waiting as the sound of restless motion behind the mirror grew serious. Listening attentively, Laura watched as her nipples tightened beneath the cream lace of her bra.
"Wait," the girl said. "Let me get..." Her words were interrupted by another jostling and the clang of a hanger.
"There," he said. "Now just..." The girl moaned sharply. Laura watched herself as she unconsciously lifted the hem of the black skirt and gently touched the crotch of her panties.
"Damn, Scott," the girl said between breaths, "your dick is so fucking big." Laura whimpered and pushed her fingers underneath the cream lace.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled. "You like my big dick?"
"Yes," the girl said, emphatically. "Give it to me."
Laura rubbed herself furiously, watching herself in the mirror, listening as flesh began to slap flesh in a steady rhythm. Laura opened her mouth as the electric shocks of excitement rippled through her, and she felt her knees go weak.
"Damn," the girl said, "fuck."
Laura pulled the black skirt up to her waist and pushed her panties down her thighs. Turning, she leaned back against the mirror, pushing her bare ass against the glass. The wall shuddered slightly with each fleshy smack from beyond. Feeling their fuck bouncing steadily against her, excitement poured from Laura's pussy, drenching her diddling fingers.
"Oh God," the girl moaned, "give me that cock."
"Give me that cock," Laura whispered.
"Aargh," bellowed the man, and the rhythm of his blows intensified and then broke. Laura breathed deeply, on fire with her excitement. The other room quieted with gentle murmurs and kisses and lightly squealed 'oohs'. Laura closed her eyes and finally pushed herself forward. Hiking up her panties, she smiled to see the half-moon imprint of her bottom on the glass. A shudder coursed her body, leaving Laura smiling wickedly.
She watched her reflection as she danced a few provocative turns in the tight, short skirt. "Too naughty," Laura said softly and, peeling off the skirt, she quickly dressed and left, leaving the navy blues and fashionable greys in a heap in the corner of the room.
The clerk at the register, a young dark-haired woman, stood behind the counter folding sweaters. Laura plopped the black skirt down with a delighted smile.
"I am so tired of winter," the clerk said, pushing aside the pile of thick knitted wool.
"I think spring will be here soon," said Laura, dreamily.
"Did you find everything you need?" asked the clerk.
"Absolutely not," said Laura, almost laughing, "but I have a good start."
"We have some new blazers on sale." The clerk folded the black skirt and found the price tag.
"Nope," said Laura. "I've got more casual shopping in mind."
"Can I put this on your Hechts card?"
"Sure," said Laura, suddenly distracted as a couple walked past the register. Her eyes fixed on the bulging crotch of the young man's jeans. "I'll take one of those," Laura said, almost to herself. The clerk smirked."I think we're out, but I can order one for you," the clerk said, her voice low. They laughed.
"What I really need is some new lingerie," said Laura.
"Ours is upstairs, to the right. If you want something, you know, spicy, go up to Rudolph's on the top floor over by Lechters. They have great stuff." The clerk winked.
"Yes," said Laura. "I think spring is on the way." She signed the draft and took her package. "Upstairs?"
"By Lechters and The Movie House."
"Thanks," said Laura. Walking saucily down the wide aisle, she stopped to feel the fabric of a low-cut black blouse. "Maybe I should try this on," Laura said, laughing to herself. | 1 |
4,283 | Elvira and the Witches Kids | "I can't believe I'm doing this," Elvira said, kicking off her sneakers. She was in the Lab, a converted cellar (dungeons more like it, she thought) in Clarion Mansion. Around her, the regular lab noises continued. Chemicals simmered and boiled, various gears and levers ground their way through eternity. In front of her was a large table, mounted on a universal ball joint. Unbuckling her belt, the babysitter pulled down her pants and handed them to Helga.
"To solve a problem, you need data," Jeremy said, sitting at a large computer console. His cherubic face was complexly serious, though his green eyes seemed to crackle as Elvira pulled her sweater over her head. Underneath it, she wore a blue one-piece teddy with lace edging. It showed off a slight figure, with wide hips and small breasts. Handing her clothes to Helga, the young girl jumped onto the table.
"That's it?" Helga asked.
"That's all this time," Elvira said, lying back.
"Why the modesty?" Jeremy asked, starting to work with the computer. "We've seen you naked before. In fact, we've wrestled while you were naked."
"So live with the memory."
"Very well."
There was a slight whirring sound, and a metal ball descended from the shadows. Elvira swore and launched herself from the table.
"What's wrong?" Helga asked. "Is the table cold?"
"What the hell's that?"
"It's a sensor array," Jeremy said.
"Oh." Elvira looked at the ball. It was about two feet in diameter, with nearly a thousand (or so it seemed) antennae of various shapes and sizes. "It looks like the thing Darth Vader used to torture Princess Leia."
"It's quite harmless," Jeremy said.
I've heard that before, Elvira thought. Unconvinced, she got on the table and laid back.
"Beginning scan," Jeremy announced. "I'll activate the remote viewer so you can see."
A screen in the shadows above the table came to life, and Elvira saw herself. Slowly, it changed, first showing her, then showing her muscles, organs, bones, and finally reversing itself.
"Nothing."
"Unless you count the pizza she had for lunch," Helga pointed out. "I can't believe you had garlic, mushroom, pepperoni, and anchovies."
So sayeth the ghoulish gourmet, Elvira thought.
"Let us think this through," Jeremy said, leaning back. "Elvira, can you remember exactly where the first shrinking potion hit?"
"Right here," Elvira ran her hand across her chest.
The young scientist adjusted a control, and the ball dropped lower. On the screen, Elvira's breast tripled in size, then turned transparent.
"Still nothing."
"Try cellular resolution," Helga suggested.
Jeremy adjusted again, and the view of Elvira's breast zoomed in until the skin seemed to part, and layers of skin, crisscrossed with light hair, could be seen. Then the hair vanished, and the view became one of overlapping layers of round, translucent ovals. The image was fuzzy, slightly out of focus. For a few minutes, they said nothing, as he readjusted the controls.
"You'll have to take it off," Jeremy said, finally. "The scanner can't handle the fabric."
Sighing with frustration, Elvira reached up and pulled the top of her teddy down. Her breasts broke free, the accentuated nipples stiffening in the cool air of the lab.
The change in the scan was immediate, and to the babysitter, meaningless. It was clear, but Elvira had no idea what she was looking at.
"Still nothing," Jeremy said.
"No," Helga adjusted the scanner, and it moved until it was focused on a small sac. "Check out the spectrum on the sweat gland."
"You're right," Jeremy once again adjusted the scan. Soon, the image of a small machine could be seen hanging on the gland.
"What the hell is that thing?" Elvira asked, sitting up.
"A nanite," Helga said.
"A small..."
"Yeah, I know, I saw that Star Trek episode. How the hell did it get into me?"
"It was in the potion," Jeremy said. "That's how the growth and shrinking effects work. The nanites generate a field that compresses or expands your body structure."
"I thought it was magic."
"The second potion was magic," Jeremy said. "Unstable if you'll remember. I abandoned it when I was unable to stabilize the side effects."
"What side effects?"
"Increased sexual appetite, slight weight loss, and a desire to rule the world. You haven't had any of those, have you?"
"No," Exasperated, Elvira laid back down.
"The first potion was just a carrier for the nanites. I realized that in a liquid carrier, they could go through clothing and soak into the skin. But they should have deactivated after the first few days."
"They? How many of these things are in me?"
"I'll have to scan to see," Jeremy said. "And I will have to do it without interference."
"Oh, hell," Elvira said, pulling the rest of her teddy off, she dropped it on the floor. Completely naked, she closed her eyes and willed them not to say anything. I wonder if centerfolds feel this way, she thought.
"Same as before," Jeremy remarked, starting to tap out commands on the keyboard.
"No, she's had a trim since then," Helga said.
Why didn't I let Aunt Petunia eat me when I had the chance, Elvira wondered. She shuddered as she thought of a thousand little machines inhabiting her body.
Suddenly, metal straps erupted from the table. They encircled her ankles, knees, waist, and wrists.
"Hey!" Elvira shouted, struggling. For a few moments, she strained every muscle in her body, but remained trapped.
"I need you to keep still," Jeremy said.
"Besides, it's more fun this way," Helga added. "It lives up to the image."
"Perverted twins," Elvira muttered.
"Yes," a voice from nowhere said. "Aren't they?"
"Huh?"
Suddenly, Helga stiffened, and a white cloth suddenly appeared around her face. She struggled, but in a few moments, was unconscious.
"Uncle Frank!" Jeremy shouted. Before he could do anything, the white cloth appeared around his face.
"Let me out of this thing!" Elvira screeched. But it was too late. Jeremy and Helga were slumped on the floor, completely out. She lay on the table, helpless, looking around desperately for any sign of the Invisible Tickler. There was nothing, not a sound.
Something light brushed across the sole of her feet. Elvira laughed, despite her efforts. Nothing happened for a few moments, and she braced herself, tightening every muscle. Something tickled under her arms, at the same time something started to brush lightly across her left nipple. For a minute, Elvira was able to keep control, then she burst out laughing.
"Receptive as always," Uncle Frank said, keeping up the stimulation. "But this is hardly the perfect place." The white cloth appeared, and Elvira laughed her way to sleep.
Elvira woke up, struggling like a fish in a net. Like coming out of a nightmare, she willed her limbs to move, but they were held in place. Opening her eyes, the babysitter realized she was in her room, lying on her large four-poster bed. Elvira looked around, but saw nothing.
"What am I looking for," she muttered, "he's invisible."
"Are you awake?" a voice from somewhere near her stomach asked.
"Yeah, wide awake."
"Good."
Suddenly, Elvira started to move. She sat up, her body responding to commands other than her own. Looking at herself, Elvira saw that she was in some sort of leather harness. Straps were around her body at the wrist, elbows, waist, and legs.
"I shall alert Uncle Frank."
"Okay," was the voice asking her or telling her?
Stiffly, she moved across the room to a silken cord that hung next to the door. Elvira's arm reached up, her hand took the cord and pulled. Then the hand released the cord, and suddenly, she could move freely. Quickly, she moved her hands to the buckles, only to have her fingers refuse to move when they got to them.
"Sorry, but I can't let you release yourself," the voice said. "But I can allow a small amount of self-commanded movement."
"Who are you?"
"I am Benny, your bondage suit."The voice was chipper, friendly, almost Disney-like.
"Oh."
"If you'd like to take a good look, we can go in and look in the bathroom mirror."
"Sure."
Wonderful thing about shrinking a lot, Elvira pondered as her body walked, through no will of hers, into the bathroom, it makes you hard to rattle. What she saw in the bathroom mirror rattled her anyway.
She was still naked, but that she knew. Encircling her arms and legs were small leather straps. Interconnected by a network of thinner strips of leather. The straps formed a cone around each of her breasts, and covering the nipples were two glass eyes. Directly below her breasts was a large leather patch. On the patch was a nose and a mouth. Every strap in the suit met at the patch. Around her throat, a small ball hung loosely.
One of the glass eyes winked at her.
"Benny," she said, her voice completely numb.
"How do you do. I hope to make your captivity as pleasant as possible. In me, you have the ultimate in bondage gear, polite, flexible, and completely escape-proof. You are utterly helpless in my grasp."
"Yay!" Elvira gave a mock cheer. Benny was every telephone sales person she had ever talked to. He made it sound so natural, so right, that she be his prisoner.
"Benny," Uncle Frank called. Instantly, Elvira found herself walking back into the bedroom. A small push cart was waiting by the bed. Above it, a small feather hung in mid-air.
"Just set her down on the bed," Frank said. His voice held a slight tremor, a lilt that nearly broke through every few seconds.
Elvira was moved to the bed and forced to lay down. Uncle Frank took hold of her ankles and moved them over the edge. Then a strange contraption was pulled out of the cart. It was a small wooden frame, with two rings in the center that fit over her ankles. From the frame, ten small cords hung, at the end of each was a woven fabric tube. Uncle Frank attached each of the tubes to one of Elvira's toes. It was when he pulled them taut that she realized they were miniature Chinese finger traps. He adjusted a knob on the frame, and her toes were pulled up and away from each other. A small bar with two rings was attached to either of her big toes, holding them apart and rigid.
The babysitter swallowed as she realized how vulnerable her feet were. The next thing to come out of the tray confused her. It was a portable tape player. Uncle Frank put it on the floor and then produced a large feather.
"Let's warm up a little, shall we?"
The feather glided across the sole of her foot, and Elvira started to giggle. He kept this up for a few minutes, then moved on. When he started to tickle the space between her toes, Elvira nearly jumped off the bed, despite Benny. She had never realized how ticklish she was there. It only took a few strokes of the feather for her to laugh so hard that tears came to her eyes. Uncle Frank pulled back and let her laughter play itself out.
"I think we're ready," he said.
They were both surprised when the doorbell rang.
"Who would dare interrupt me now?" Uncle Frank raved. "Are you expecting anyone?"
"Are you kidding? I tell all my friends to stay away from this place."
"Well, we shall soon see. Benny, a gag if you please."
Before Elvira could react, the ball that hung around her throat stuffed itself into her mouth.
"Now to deal with the interloper."
Please let it be a SWAT team, Elvira prayed. | 4 |
4,286 | "Withering Rod of Eridu" [Part Two] | "You see," said Tara after I finished reading the scroll aloud. "I told you it would be an adventure of sorts."
"And, quite possibly, a dangerous one, too," I retorted. "Based on past experience, I always hesitate when an 'unknown evil' is indicated. I never know what I'm getting into, and it's usually worse than what was first imagined. But---it is an adventure, nonetheless."
"Then, shouldn't we be on our way?" asked Tara.
I chuckled at her. "Looking like that?"
She was still in a naked state.
She laughed back. "That would certainly draw attention to us, wouldn't it?"
"While you dress," I continued, "I shall talk with my sister, let her know where we're going. Then I'll say my good-byes to the rest of my own family, and the members of my newly-related family-in-law. I should be ready to depart by mid-day."
Tara nodded in agreement. "Shall I obtain supplies for us?"
"Enough rations for two days," I answered as I took some coins from my bag and tossed them to her. She caught them. "Barring any unforeseen circumstances, that's how long it should take us to get to Eridu."
Tara bowed her head slightly. "Yes, Mage."
I was about to tell her not to be so formal since we'd so recently shared such an intimate moment, but I quickly changed my mind. It is still good for the young to respect their elders in spite of relationships.
Precisely as I had said, mid-day found Tara and me on the road to Eridu.
I'd never been to the Keep before so I didn't know what to expect other than what I'd been told by my sister---that those who dwelt there were mainly soldiers and mercenaries under the employ of Preet, king of Shallamar. They protected the border between Arpakshad and Elam, patrolling up and down the River Ganga which ran from the Elburz Mountains in the north, east-southeast past the Rajasthan Desert to empty into the Sea of Salacia just off the Coromandel Coast.
"Where are you from?" asked Tara as we made our way along the dusty road which led through the Forest of Andhra.
"I was born in Javan---part of the Isles of the Gentiles---but spent most of the years of my childhood in Asshur. When an army of black warriors under the command of Chief Mapigano swept up from Kush to invade my adopted country---killing my parents in the process---I escaped east and arrived at Chambal. Here I came under the tutelage of the Council of Wizards, particularly Ramesh Magus, from whom I learned many things of a magical nature."
"And the art of lovemaking...?" prodded Tara.
"Ah---that's another story entirely," I replied as I attempted to evade her inquiry.
She touched my arm gently, squeezed with her fingers. "Tell it to me, I pray you, Mage Solomon. I have heard so many tales of your sexual prowess, and your amazing staff, but none which sound like the Truth."
I pursed my lips. It had been so long since the awakening of my Bliss that I wondered if I could remember the details as accurately as I thought I did. "Very well, I shall tell you the Truth, if you wish..." | 1 |
4,310 | The Wedding Present | "Hello?"
"Hey, Tony, how's it hanging, buddy?"
"Who is this?"
"It's me, Bill. You remember, the one that stole away your darling Eileen?"
"And married her, too, as I recall."
"That's me, man. I just got back from the honeymoon, and I wanted to thank you."
"For what? Being stupid enough to let you frame me so I'd lose my job and you could steal Eileen away from me?"
"Hey! If she'd really wanted you, she could have stayed. I guess she wanted handsome and rich. But I'm off the subject. I wanted to thank you for the funky gift. Where did you get it?"
"At the shop where I work now, The Twilight Zone. Why?"
"You're working in a fucking lingerie store? Man, that's harsh. Anyway, I thought you should know that Eileen really loved the video camera and those panties you got her. Opened it up one week after we got married, like your card said, and I thought she was gonna wet the ones she had on. Man, once she got them on, I don't think she took them off until Sunday. She popped the snaps on the crotch and fucked me till I was sore. It was like she was possessed! Always wanted to be on top, too. I guess it was them being black leather and all, but she was like a different woman. Got the whole thing on tape."
"Bill, I think you know how I feel about Eileen, and about you. Is there something you wanted, other than to rub my face in shit again?"
"I was just wondering what was in the other six boxes. I mean, your note was rather cryptic. Open one each Saturday morning, in order. What's in the other boxes?"
"Why don't you open them and find out?"
"I can't. After the first, she hid the rest. She said Saturday was a day made special by you, and if you said one and only one every Saturday, that was it."
"Has she taken off the panties?"
"Yeah. But when she comes home from work each day, the first thing she does is change into them and fuck me good. It's wearing me out."
"She'll do that."
"What'd you say? Never mind. I was just calling to thank you, and find out where you got them. I know somebody that would like a present like that."
"At the Twilight Zone. It was a special package deal, called 'The Seven Saturdays of' something or other. I can find out if you really want."
"Thanks buddy. No hard feelings, right?"
"Yeah, right."
"Hello?"
"Tony? It's me, Bill. You are a fucking pervert, aren't you!?"
"What do you mean, Bill?"
"This week's present. I woke up yesterday to find her in that leather corset with those gloves on; both hands wrapped around my dick and pumping away, but I couldn't come! She'd put me in some metal thing..."
"...A cockring harness..."
"...Yeah, that's it, a cockring do-dad, and told me I was in for the orgasm of my life. I wanted to fuck her right there, but she wanted no part even though I could see she was wet, what with the crotch open on those leather panties and everything. Positively dripping! All day long she pranced around the house in her little leather get-up, stroking me and fondling me, and sometimes even fucking me! When she let me loose that night it only took a few strokes of her hand and BAM! I came so hard I passed out!"
"Bill, what is it that you want?"
"Was she always like this?"
"Goodbye, Bill."
"Hello?"
"Oh-my-God, Tony! I can see why you were so hard about Eileen. I thought I could take what was ever in those boxes, but man-o-man, Yesterday's topped them all."
"Bill, I really don't want to hear this."
"I mean, every day last week she would come home, get into her outfit, strap that harness on me, then tease me until midnight, when she'd jerk me off. No penetration during her period, she said, but she wanted me ready for when it was over. I was jerking off all day just thinking about what she'd be doing to me at night."
"Goodbye Bill."
"Wait! I got to tell you the best part. Saturday morning she opened the next box, the one with the garter belt, stockings, and those boots, along with the make-up, and she went wild. When she put it all on, all the gifts, she looked like one of those dominatrixes..."
"Dominatrix"
"Yeah, that. Anyhow, no sooner does she finish with that pink pearl lipstick then she's sucking my dick! Not just the head, either, but she's deep throating it! If I wasn't in that cock thingy, I would have shot right there. Every hour, no matter where we were, she'd put on the lipstick and start sucking away like a little whore. When she jerked me off last night, I must have come a gallon if it was an ounce."
"Bill, I'd really wish you'd stop calling me. You got me fired so I'd lose my house and my girlfriend, and now you're calling me to tell me how great sex is with her. You really are an asshole, Bill."
"I just wanted to thank you. If there is ever anything I can do for you, let me know."
"Leave me alone. Goodbye."
"What...Hello? Who is this?"
"Tony, you fucking dick, get over here now!"
"Bill? It's...six-thirty in the morning, on a Saturday, no less! I thought I told you to leave me alone."
"Get me out of this fucking thing!"
"What are you talking about?"
"This belt thing is what I'm talking about."
"Belt thing?"
"Big stainless steel thing, won't let me touch my dick, as if I could with these handcuffs chained to my neck."
"Those are manacles. Why don't you get Eileen to let you out? She's the one who locked you in there in the first place."
"Because I woke up with these things on, and she left a note saying she was spending the day shopping while I cleaned the house."
"It should be cleaned, you know, and with her working while you stay at home all day, it's the least you could do."
"Fuck you! Now get over here and get this thing off me."
"No can do."
"Why not?"
"It's got two special codes. One locks the belt around your waist, the other locks the cod piece. Access codes are set by the user when it's put on. Only Eileen can take it off."
"Fuck! Why'd she put it on me?"
"Probably to keep you from masturbating all over her clothes while she was gone. Unless she's wearing them while shopping."
"She only wears them when she wants sex."
"That's just it, Bill. Maybe she got tired of you jerking off all the time, and being such an asshole. Maybe right now she's all dressed up like a fuck toy looking for a stud to fuck. Is her outfit there?"
"Wait...NO! I can't believe this. Married a month and my wife is out fucking some other guy."
"You never know Bill. Maybe she's just teasing you. Eileen loves to tease. If I were you, I'd be kissing her feet when she came home to let her know how much she means to me. The last thing I'd do is be angry, so you'd better calm down. If she walks out, you'll be stuck like that for who knows how long."
"Maybe...maybe you're right. I'll show her how devoted I can really be."
"Don't forget to clean the house."
"Wait a minute. You were the one that bought this. You..."
"That's right. I bought it, but it was Eileen's decision to use it. You told me before she was jerking you off. Did she jerk you off last week?"
"Yeah, every night. She'd tease me all night, then jerk me off at the stroke of midnight."
"You know, the more often you come, the smaller the amount. She could probably tell you'd been jerking off from the small amounts she was getting. I can't believe you. Married to a woman like that, and you can't stop jerking off. Wasn't she good enough? If I were you, I'd get cleaning, and hope she's not pissed off when she gets home. You have your work cut out for you with that big mansion and everything."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Bye Bill."Bye, Tony."
"Hello?"
"Hi, Bill, this is Tony. How's it going?"
"I can't talk right now. I have to go."
"What's the big rush? I just wanted to find out how everything went last week and what you thought of this week's present."
"I think it sucks."
"What? That's an eight hundred dollar latex French maid outfit. It even came with a wig. I'm getting hard just thinking of Eileen dressed in it. What's wrong with it?"
"I'll tell you what's wrong. Eileen got back from shopping last week, and I did what you said, kissing her feet and everything, and she unlocked the codpiece part and put on the cockring harness to keep me hard. I thought we were going to make love, but before she'd do that, she wanted to check the house. She wasn't happy with my cleaning, and said I wasn't going to be set free until it was spic and span. Every day when she gets home from work, she changes into her outfit, does her makeup, straps me into my harness under the chastity belt, then checks the house. She always finds some place that I missed! Then she says it means no sex again that night, and she goes out. She says it's just with some friends, but I think she's fucking some other guy, 'cause now she doesn't even want to touch me, except to voice her disapproval and let me out of the harness. I've been stuck with an erection I can't touch."
"Didn't she like the French maid's outfit?"
"Oh yeah, she liked it all right. Said maybe looking like a maid would get me thinking like a maid. I'm to call her Mistress Eileen, and act the part of a maid."
"You mean, you're wearing that outfit? It wasn't exactly made for a guy, you know."
"I know. She got some breast forms yesterday to fill it out, along with stockings and high heels. I even have to wear makeup."
"You're saying that you..."
"Are dressed like a latex French maid whore?"
"Yeah...Well, anyway, what about the sex?"
"Nothing to talk about."
"C'mon, Bill, you used to love telling me about sex with Eileen."
"I mean there hasn't been any, for two weeks. At all. Least not for me. She says if I'm good, she'll surprise me on Saturday. Only if I'm good. My balls feel like they're going to explode."
"Why don't you just leave?"
"First of all, she locked me into this outfit. Bet you forgot about those locks, didn't you?"
"Oops. Sorry."
"Second, I can't find any of my old clothes. They're all gone. Thirdly, we had a pre-nuptial agreement."
"So?"
"It said if either found justifiable reason for divorce, the guilty party would forfeit all rights to the other's possessions and half of their own. I wanted to make sure that if she left, I got half of her inheritance."
"You're saying she'll take you for half the Bonzer family fortune? How? She's the sex freak."
"That fucking video camera of hers. She's taped a lot of the stuff we did. When you play it back, it looks like it was my idea. She'll claim sexual deviancy and rape."
"Too bad."
"Look, I have to go. I'm not allowed personal phone calls."
"Bonzer residence."
"Bill? Is that you?"
"Master Tony? Would you like to speak with Mistress Eileen?"
"Bill, what happened to you?"
"I'm not permitted to speak to you, Master Tony. If Mistress Eileen found out, I would be severely punished."
"Punished? How? What are you talking about?"
"Please, Master Tony, don't call me anymore. Mistress Eileen will whip me if she finds out."
"She opened gift number six, eh? Those were only for play acting. Has she enjoyed the dildos?"
"Yes...very much."
"What's wrong? Is she using them instead of having sex with you?"
"Sometimes. She's started having sex with me again, but..."
"'But' what?"
"Mistress Eileen has informed me that what once was my dick is now her toy, to be used at her discretion. The only time I am to come is...the only time..."
"Bill, don't cry. Spit it out."
"The only time a worthless slut maid like me is to come is when I am properly filled with a man's dick."
"What!?"
"Master Tony...She...she straps the dildo on...and..."
"Fucks you in the ass?"
"Until I come. And then she makes me clean up my own mess, like a good maid. With my tongue."
"Why? I mean, why does she fuck you with the dildo?"
"Because she told me she doesn't think I'm properly trained yet for the real thing, Master Tony."
"Wow. And what's with the 'Master Tony' thing?"
"If I am to be a good servant, I am to learn how to address my superiors. Currently, everybody is my superior."
"This is really weird, Bill. I can't believe you're doing all this."
"It's strange, Master Tony, but I'm getting used to it. Mistress Eileen has been staying home more lately, to see to my training. If I'm bad, she whips me; but when I'm good, she lets me come. It's really added a little structure to my life, in a way."
"What about your old life? Have you traded the playboy lifestyle in for one as a latex maid?"
"That life seems so long ago. I have to go, Master Tony. She's calling for her tea."
"Bill, don't say too much. I know she is probably around you somewhere. I was wondering if she opened the last box this morning."
"Yes, Master Tony."
"I'm really sorry, Bill. I meant those collars to be a joke. I would guess you're wearing a studded black leather collar that says, 'slave', right?"
"Yes, Master Tony."
"Bill, has she done anything else to you?"
"No, Master Tony."
"Is she there now, Bill?"
"No, Master Tony."
"Then tell me what's going on."
"Mistress Eileen has shown me the error of my previous ways, Master Tony. I'm not the man you knew before."
"And you accept it?"
"Yes, Master Tony. It is the way it should be. Master Tony? I would like to apologize for what I did to you before."
"All is forgiven, Bill."
"Please, Master Tony, refer to me as slut."
"Why?"
"Mistress Eileen says I don't deserve a name yet, and I should be called slut because of my desire for sex. I haven't earned a name."
"It's a little strange, but I'll do it. Slut. Did Eileen..."
"Mistress Eileen."
"Okay, Mistress Eileen. Did Mistress Eileen put her collar on?"
"Yes, Master Tony."
"Did you see what it said?"
"No, Master Tony."
"Hmm. Is your master bedroom clean, slut?"
"Oh yes, Master Tony. I clean it every day."
"Good. I'll be over soon to move my stuff in, and I want it perfect."
"Master Tony?"
"You see, slut, your 'Mistress Eileen' is actually my slave Eileen. It said so on her collar. Now you are my slave also. I've been watching those videos, and I have decided that tonight we'll see how that cock-sucking lipstick looks on you before I check her progress on your ass. Goodbye, slut." | 1 |
4,312 | Summer Vacation | "Michael!" Karyn yelled as she opened her eyes in response to the sound of shattering glass and saw her nephew standing there.
"Oh God!" Bernadette McKenzie gasped as she jumped up and turned in the direction of the noise as well.
As she stood up, Michael got a good look at Mrs. McKenzie. In her late thirties, she had a pretty good body, he thought. Her breasts were small and well-rounded with bright pink nipples. Had Michael known her as a teenager, he would've noted that she had kept much of her figure, a figure that had drawn the attention of many young men.
"Oh my God!" she repeated again. "Oh my dear God!"
"Calm down, Bernadette," Karyn said to her reassuringly as she instantly sized up the situation. "Everything's going to be all right."
That seemed to calm the excited woman down a little. She sat down on the couch, picking up the blouse she had dropped to the floor earlier and wrapped it around her naked form.
"Michael, get something to pick up that glass," Karyn said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Automatically, the eighteen-year-old obeyed, stepping back into the kitchen. His mind, however, was racing. His Aunt was also into women, and with the Minister's wife no less. Glancing down, he saw that his cock was as rock hard as it had ever been.
It only took a moment to get a hand broom and dustpan and come back into the living room. As he cleaned up the mess, he couldn't help stealing looks at the two women. Bernadette McKenzie still had the unbuttoned blouse wrapped tightly around her, but his Aunt Karyn surprisingly had made no effort to cover herself. Her large breasts were just hanging there for him to see.
As he stood up, he could swear that Mrs. McKenzie was staring right at his hard-on. His imagination, of course, but it made his blush a little as he disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Don't worry, Bernadette honey," Karyn said as the older woman put her arm around the blonde's shoulders. "My nephew's not going to tell anyone about what was going on here tonight."
"I trust you, Karyn," she said as she snuggled against her lover. "But can I really trust your nephew?"
"I trust him," Karyn replied. "And that's enough."
"Maybe for you, but I need something stronger," Bernadette added.
"I don't understand," Karyn said, a look of confusion on her face.
"What I mean is," Bernadette explained. "I'd feel a lot better about trusting your nephew to keep his silence if he had something to lose if he didn't. I'm sure you can keep him in line for now, but what's to keep him from going off to school next week and telling everyone about his dyke Aunt getting her pussy licked by the Minister's wife?"
Karyn was taken a little aback by Bernadette's language. In all the years she had known her, she had only heard her use profanity when she was in the heat of passion.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Bernadette," Karyn said. "Do you want me to threaten him or something?"
"No, not that," she answered quietly, her eyes on the door to the kitchen as she watched for Michael's return. "I was just thinking that if Michael were more involved with what was going on tonight, then he'd be more reluctant to tell anyone about it."
"What?" Karyn said in disbelief.
"Think about it," Bernadette said.
"I don't need to think about it," Karyn quickly replied. "He's my nephew."
"But he's not mine," Bernadette said as she smiled. "And technically, he's only yours by marriage -- and you're not married to his Uncle anymore."
"This is insane," Karyn insisted.
"Well then I could just involve him myself," Bernadette suggested.
Then it hit Karyn, that was the point Bernadette had been steering her to from the moment they'd turned around and saw him standing there. Her lover wanted to fuck her nephew.
The tall redhead looked into her lover's eyes and saw that she was dead serious. The whole situation was incredible. She didn't feel jealous at the suggestion. After all, she had an ongoing sexual relationship with Angelo Salvatori as well as occasional flings with other men in the community.
She hadn't really planned to start an affair with Bernadette a year ago when she had come over looking for support after a devastating fight with her husband. It had just sort of happened.
Unknown to their parishioners, the relationship between the Reverend and Mrs. McKenzie had been deteriorating for years now. The source of their problems, then and now, had been their inability to have any children. After almost ten years of trying, Bernadette had become resigned to never getting pregnant. Joshua, on the other hand, had become more obsessive about the subject as the years went on.
Several times, Bernadette had suggested that they look into medical help to get pregnant. That idea had gone over with Joshua as badly as her other suggestion that they look into adoption. To seek help would be to admit he was somewhat less of a man in his eyes. It hadn't mattered how many times she told him that he was being ridiculous.
It had gotten to the point where Joshua barely touched her anymore. Except, of course, on those days when she was stood the best chance of conceiving. Then he would climb on top of her and pump away for a few minutes until he emptied himself into her. Days later, when it became apparent that it had been a wasted effort, he would go once again into a sullen state -- until the next time.
"Bernadette, do you know what you're asking?" Karyn said.
"Oh yes, I know," the blonde replied.
Karyn looked into her lover's eyes and saw a mixture of lust and desperation. Despite the sexual release she got from her frequent trysts with Karyn, Bernadette really hadn't cut loose sexually in well over a year. A few times, Karyn had offered to set something up for her, an encounter similar to those she enjoyed. Each time the thirty-six-year-old adamantly refused. The fear that someone would find out later or that the man would brag to someone about bedding the minister's wife was greater than her need to be laid.
Since Michael was going to be gone in a few days, there was little chance of that. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more her thinking paralleled Bernadette's. She could certainly use the experience, and it wasn't like it was going to hurt Michael. After all, she had invited Bernadette over tonight in the expectation that her nephew would be shacked up with Cindy Stanton most of the night, fucking her brains out.
"All right, Bernadette," Karyn said as she reached down and picked up her dress off the coffee table. "I'll leave the two of you alone, and whatever happens, happens."
With that, the younger woman's face lit up. It was a sight Karyn had seen much too rarely. She hoped she was making the right decision. Slipping the dress over her body, she stood up and called Michael back into the room.
Michael waited a few moments to respond to his Aunt's call. He still couldn't get the image of the two women out of his mind. It didn't take a glance down to his crotch to know his dick was long and hard, and was going to stay that way until he was able to jerk off. When Karyn called him a second time, he headed back into the living room and hoped neither of them noticed.
The young man was a little disappointed to find that his Aunt had finally covered herself up. He would've liked one more look at those huge breasts. Mrs. McKenzie was still sitting on the edge of the couch, and Michael was now sure that she was staring at his hard-on. Only this time, however, he didn't feel as embarrassed. In fact, he felt kind of proud.
"Michael dear, I'm not going to try and explain what was going on here tonight," his Aunt said in a calm voice. "You're old enough to realize that there are many different kinds of relationships, and I trust you enough to know that you'll never mention this to anyone else."
"Of course, Karyn," he quickly replied, surprising himself at how much he meant that.
Suffering his Aunt's disapproval would be harder for him than keeping the secret.
"Good," Karyn simply answered, a slight smile on the corners of her mouth. "Then that takes care of that."
A wave of relief swept over Michael.It was an awkward situation, and he was glad that it was suddenly over.
"Can I go up to my room now?" he asked, wanting to run into the bathroom and take care of his now aching member.
"In a few minutes," Karyn said. "But first, Mrs. McKenzie would like to talk to you for a few minutes if you don't mind?"
"Of course not," Michael answered, wondering what that was all about. If he was Mrs. McKenzie, he'd want to get out of here as fast as he could.
"Thank you," Karyn said. "So the two of you have a nice private chat, and I'll be out in the kitchen cleaning up if you need anything."
As he watched his Aunt retrace his steps into the kitchen, Michael wondered why she had stressed the word 'private'. Or had that only been his imagination running wild again?
"Sit down, Michael," Bernadette McKenzie said as she indicated the empty cushion next to her. It was the first thing he had heard her say since her almost hysterical "Oh my God" a little while before.
He sat there for a few silent moments, trying hard not to look at her. It was impossible for him not to be aware that she was still naked underneath the small blouse draped around her shoulders. It hadn't helped matters any that she had loosened her grip on the blouse, letting it open enough to give a fairly decent view of her cleavage.
"You must think me a truly horrible woman if you can't even look at me," she said in a soft voice.
Michael turned and looked at her, realizing immediately that turning to the right had been a mistake. Bernadette had once again shifted position, her blouse now hanging fully open and her small rounded mounds exposed to the world, or at least one oversexed young man.
"I don't think you're horrible," Michael managed to say, his eyes never leaving her breasts.
Bernadette smiled now that she had his full attention. He'd spent so much effort trying to see Karyn's breasts when he'd walked in on them, he'd barely noticed hers. Now he had to appreciate the fact that they were beautiful in their own right.
"That's good," Bernadette said, continuing her smile. "For reasons you might not understand, that's important to me."
Thinking that was that, Michael began to get up. Only to be restrained by the soft touch of Bernadette's hand.
"You know you took Karyn and I quite by surprise," she continued, as if sitting here naked with a young man was the most natural thing in the world. "We really expected you to be out most of the evening with Cindy Stanton."
"She changed her plans," he said, a sense of sadness in his tone.
"Poor baby," Bernadette replied. "What happened?"
For a reason he didn't quite know why, Michael told her exactly what happened.
"Oh, that must've been Bobby Lee," Bernadette said as Michael described the young man he'd seen in the living room of Cindy's house. "He and Cindy have been going out, on and off, since Junior High School."
"Figures," Michael said.
"And she was so inconsiderate as to make you go all the way over there, just to tell you that it was over between the two of you?"
"Yeah," he muttered.
"My word, that girl can be such a cock-teaser!" Bernadette exclaimed.
Michael was shocked hearing a statement like that from Mrs. McKenzie. Even after seeing her with his Aunt, it still was hard to imagine her talking like that.
"That's what she is, isn't she?" Bernadette asked.
Michael nodded in agreement.
"Why don't look so shocked," she smiled once again. "It's not like I was born a minister's wife. I'll have you know there was a time when I was well aware of how a pretty young woman could draw young men like flies to honey. And I was even aware how easily it was to get them worked up. Some of my girlfriends used to even brag about how they sent their boyfriends home with a case of 'blueballs,' that's the term isn't it?"
Michael again nodded.
"That's what Cindy did to you, isn't it?" Bernadette asked as she looked down at the still large bulge in Michael's slacks. "It's not right for a girl to get a young man all excited and then leave him cold, is it?" she further asked.
Unsure what to answer, Michael remained silent. Then he almost jumped off the couch in even greater surprise when he felt Bernadette's small hand come to rest on his cloth-covered cock.
"And I'm sure walking in here and finding me and your Aunt Karyn on the couch didn't help matters either," she went on as she ran her fingers up and down the length of his cock, taking its measure. "So I guess part of this is my fault."
Still dumbstruck, Michael exhaled loudly.
"You know, I've often wondered," Bernadette said as she cupped her hand around his young manhood, assessing a thickness to go with her previous measurement. "Does it hurt when your cock gets so hard, stuck as it is in all that tight clothing?"
"A little..." Michael said, not being able to really believe he wasn't dreaming all this.
"Well then, we should let the poor dear free!" Bernadette exclaimed.
In a quick motion, nimble hands pulled down the zipper of his pants and reached in to take hold of his enlarged member. A second movement brought it out in the warm night air.
"My, that's a cock to be proud of!" Bernadette said in admiration.
Michael knew from the secret comparison that most guys did in the showers back in high school, that his cock was of average size. Still, hearing this older, more experienced woman praise it sent a warm rush through him.
"Now that we've freed this neglected baby, we really should do something about relieving the other pressure behind it," Bernadette said as her fingers closed around the base of his cock and began to slowly pump it up and down.
"Oh yeah!" Michael softly moaned as her soft touch glided against his skin. "That feels nice."
"I knew it would," Bernadette grinned.
It was then Michael suddenly realized the reality of the situation and looked to the kitchen door. Behind which sat his Aunt less than twenty feet away.
"Oh, don't worry about your Aunt," Bernadette said, seeing his gaze shift to the door. "She did say she was going to give us some privacy, didn't she?"
Before Michael could consider the fact that his Aunt had expected this to happen when she'd left them alone, Bernadette let her other hand cradle his balls and began to stroke them as well. He looked down, just as the blonde-haired woman bent over and guided his cock into her mouth.
"Oh fuck!" Michael gasped as he felt the soft wetness engulf his cock.
Bernadette wasted no time as she let his cock slide in and out of her mouth. Her tongue slid back and forth as she moved, savoring the small discharge of pre-cum that had been oozing out of his manhood. It had been so long since she'd had a cock in her mouth, ever since the day Joshua had decided that it was a waste of his seed. She couldn't wait to have Michael explode into her mouth so she could swallow every drop.
Like silk, her tongue covered every inch of his shaft before dropping down to his balls. One at a time they disappeared into her mouth, until she released them and then returned her attention to his now glistening dick. Taking its entirety once more into her mouth, Bernadette applied such pressure that she knew it would only take a little more effort to gain her prize.
Bernadette deep-throated him one last time, then released her grip on the base of his cock. His body quaked, and a sudden rush of energy drained from every pore of his body.
The recesses of her throat filled with the first burst of his warm and salty whiteness. She quickly swallowed it without hesitation, knowing that there was much more to come. A second wave followed a few moments later. This time, she allowed it to fill her mouth, permitting herself time to savor the taste as she whirled her tongue from one side of her mouth to the other. A third spurt she let slide out of the corners of her mouth and down the base of his cock. Then she ran her tongue up and down the shaft, relishing both the tangy taste and the now intoxicating aroma of his youthful sex.
Finally, sensing he was spent, Bernadette took him within her mouth one last time and began to wash away the last remnants of her efforts. By the time his young manhood slipped from her, not a trace remained.
"Oh, how I've missed that," Bernadette purred as she slowly ran her fingers along Michael's now semi-erect cock. "I'd almost forgotten how good it could feel."
Back in the days before she'd met Joshua McKenzie at college, Bernadette White had been quite the skilled cocksucker. She'd been quite honest when she told her future husband that she'd never had intercourse with any man before him. What she failed to mention was that she'd kept her virginity intact by sucking off every young man she'd dated since she was 16.
The memory of many of those young men flashed in her mind. Most of them had been just about Michael's age. A wide smile crossed her face as she laid her head across Michael's lap, continuing to gently caress his still wet cock.
Less than ten minutes earlier, Karyn had sat at the kitchen table, sipping the cup of tea she had made for herself. With each passing minute, she was finding it exceedingly difficult to just sit there and try to act normal while her lover tried to seduce her nephew in the next room. It would really be better, she told herself, if she went for a walk and left the house altogether. Yet as much as that idea made sense, she couldn't bring herself to leave.
From the many times she'd seen her nephew in shorts or swim trunks over the summer, Karyn had a fairly good mental image of his body -- less of course his more private areas. Now she tried to picture them as well. Long ago, when her husband had been alive, Karyn and Jack used to frequent a nudist colony in southern Florida. On more than a few occasions, they'd been joined on their vacations by Michael's parents.Nothing ever happened between them, of course, but it had only been human nature that caused Karyn to take the time to check out her brother-in-law. At the time, she remembered being suitably impressed. Now she couldn't help but wonder how the son might compare to his father.
"A little peek couldn't hurt," Karyn thought to herself as she looked at the closed door to the living room. "Just to satisfy my curiosity."
Leaving her cup of tea to grow cold on the table, Karyn quietly opened the swinging door -- just enough to lean in and take a quick look. She had chosen almost the exact moment that Bernadette had slid Michael's cock into her mouth.
"Shit!" Karyn said under her breath as she watched his hardness move in and out of her friend's mouth.
Having taken a major step in just opening that door, Karyn wasn't about to close it so quickly. After all, she hadn't gotten a good look at Michael's cock yet, hidden as it was in Bernadette's mouth.
Karyn was quickly captivated by the sight before her. Despite her own sexual experience, she'd never seen a woman give a blow job before -- at least not in real life. Under her thin dress, she could feel her body growing quite warm. The older woman spread her legs and slid her left hand up beneath her dress, coming to rest against the source of that building fire.
With a firm motion, she began to slowly stroke herself. With her right hand, she reached up inside her dress and began to play with her nipples, which had already hardened to her touch. She began to feel a nice warm glow spreading out from her womanhood. It was almost as if she were sharing the act in front of her.
Karyn's masturbation effort grew in intensity as she watched Bernadette lick her nephew's balls. This gave her an unobstructed view of her nephew's cock, and she was glad to see that heredity ran true. As for now retreating back into the kitchen, it didn't even enter her mind.
A sigh escaped Karyn's lips as she watched Michael's cock explode into Bernadette's mouth. Her hands raced across her breasts and pussy as she imagined herself in Bernadette's place, savoring every drop of his eruption. She wished she had time to bring herself to orgasm, but knew she'd pushed her luck as far as she dared. Finally, reluctantly, she let the door swing closed.
She paused on the other side of the closed door, tempted to step back in. Not wanting to give in again to temptation, Karyn decided to take a little walk in the night air. If nothing else, it might help her to cool down a little. If not, she could always give Angelo a call.
"Mmmm," Bernadette purred as she climbed back up onto the couch next to Michael and slid her hand up under his shirt, stroking his fine chest hair. "Now that was a wonderful appetizer. But what say we get you a little more ready for the main course," she added as she began to unbutton his shirt with her other hand.
Still as horny as he'd ever been in his life, Michael was not about to object as the nude woman next to him removed his clothes. As each article of clothing came off, Bernadette kissed the freshly exposed skin beneath it. In no time at all, the sandy-haired teen was as naked as could be.
With lust in her eyes, Bernadette swung over and came to a rest in Michael's lap. Gyrating her hips, she pressed the cheeks of her ass against his young cock. She could feel it growing to a new hardness beneath her. As it grew to its full length, she was able to shift her position and rub her pussy against it as well.
"Oooo, that feels nice," Bernadette said as she leaned forward and pressed her breasts against his face.
Eager to accept her offering, Michael leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth. Skillfully he swirled his tongue around the small stub, alternating between soft kisses and gentle bites. Bernadette's mounds were much smaller than Cindy's, to which he had so recently become accustomed, but they were no less enjoyable.
It brought to mind a little saying he once heard his older sister telling a girlfriend. When it came to a girl's breast size, anything more than a mouthful was wasted. A small breast was just as enjoyable as a large one. At the time, Michael thought it was just something they were saying to make them feel better since neither was exactly well-endowed. Now he was delighted to find it was indeed true.
Alternating between her petite globes, Michael covered them with kisses and long, sensual licks. At the same time, she reached down between her legs and took hold of his fully enlarged cock. Playfully she tugged it, causing a similar reaction from the lips wrapped around her equally enlarged nipples.
Unable to wait any longer, Bernadette lifted herself upward and guided his cock until it rested against the entrance of her wet pussy.
She paused a moment. Her emerald green eyes looked into his baby blues. The fire between her legs flared in intensity as she saw the hunger in those eyes.
Dropping an inch, she eased his cockhead inside her. It slid in effortlessly, her excitement having paved the way. Then in a quick motion, she dropped all the way and took him totally within her.
Michael gasped at the sudden envelopment of his young manhood. The wet pressure around it brought a smile of satisfaction to his face. As Bernadette began to move up and down on his pole, the sensations grew in intensity. Bracing her hands against the back of the couch, Bernadette began to rise and drop with an ever-increasing frequency. Faster and faster, she pumped, creating a suction that drew his cock further and further inside her.
"Oh God....Bernadette!.." Michael called out as he tried to match her motions, totally banishing the image of her as Mrs. Reverend McKenzie from his mind.
"Oh yes, fuck me," she cried out in response. "Give me that cock, fuck me harder!"
At the rate she was moving, Bernadette knew that he would cum quickly. Few young men his age had any kind of self-control. A few minutes later, she felt his body tensing. Lifting herself higher so that his cock nearly fell out of her, she drove herself down on it with a fury. Up again she raised and then down with the same abandon. Twice more was all it took as she felt the first hot burst erupt inside her.
Slamming her body down upon him, Bernadette grabbed his arms and pulled him to her. Her mouth sought out his, and she kissed him passionately while his seed spread within her. Holding him pressed tightly against her, she continued to pump his still firm cock until his balls had been squeezed of every last drop of that beautiful white cream.
"Oh yes," she gasped as she collapsed against him and pulled his face between the valley of her mounds.
She held him tight against her, their eyes closed tight as they enjoyed the comfort of each other's bodies. The only sound heard in the room was the beating of their hearts and the soft laboring of their breaths.
After a time and with great reluctance, Bernadette let go and climbed off of him. She had wanted that moment to go on and on. For one brief instant, all the world had seemed perfect.
Realizing that Bernadette was now off him, Michael opened his eyes. The blond woman already had her underwear back on. It also seemed to Michael that she was trying hard not to look at his naked body. A body she had been so taken with such a short time before.
"I have to get home," Bernadette said in an almost embarrassed voice as she pulled her dress over her head.
Dressed once more in the manner that the people of Eaglestone expected of a minister's wife, Bernadette also underwent a major change in personality.
"Michael, I really don't know what to say," she said as she gathered up her belongings. "I don't know how to explain my behavior. You have to believe me that I've never done anything like this before."
Michael, who had now covered himself, much to Bernadette's relief, looked into her eyes. Much to his surprise, despite the twin facts that he had walked in on her licking his Aunt's pussy as well as fucked him like a waterfront whore, he believed her.
"It's all right, Mrs. McKenzie," he said, unable to think of her as anything else right now. "That wasn't you. That was someone else."
Bernadette managed a weak smile, then turned and quickly exited the room. Moments later, Michael could hear her car pulling out of the driveway.
By the time Karyn came back from her walk, Michael had showered and gone to bed. She decided not to disturb his rest. Better to wait until the morning before they discussed what had happened tonight. Besides, she wasn't sure she trusted herself to venture into his bedroom right now.
The next morning at breakfast, Michael surprised Karyn by announcing that he was going to head home a few days early. Not mentioning the events of the night before, he simply said he wanted to take care of some things before the school year started. The redhead thought about it a bit and decided that it was for the best. She even offered to help him pack.
Epilogue
In the weeks and months that followed, Michael quickly became caught up in the hustle of college life, and the events of that summer became the stuff of memory. He did a great deal of growing up that year, surprising his parents by making the dean's list and actually becoming serious about a girl at school.
Aunt Karyn continued to keep in touch with him but never mentioned Bernadette in any of her letters. That was until he got one that came with a few photographs the following September.
The first showed Karyn beaming as she held her new goddaughter. Standing beside her, an even greater joy reflected in their faces were the parents of that bundle of joy, the Reverend and Mrs. McKenzie. In a much closer photograph of the baby, which he read had been named Michelle, he could see that she had the most striking deep blue eyes.The entire Ann Douglas collection, as well as a multitude of other great stories, can be found in the alt.sex.stories.moderated archive.
If you are just looking for a part of one of my stories, go to:
http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year97/dec.html
For the main page with full listings, go to:
http://www.qz.to/~eli/erotica/assm/ | 4 |
4,374 | Irina | "He seemed even weaker today," Irina said. I followed her into the dark apartment and closed the door behind me. Thunder rumbled outside.
"He did," I said. Irina walked to the window and looked out at the night, the wind, the coming storm, facing away from me as she unbuttoned her blouse. We were using, as we had been for weeks, a small apartment only a block from the Palace, kept by the Ministry of Culture, ostensibly for artists visiting the capital. Neutral ground.
She turned away from the window, slipped her blouse down her arms, and hung it over a chair. Without meeting my eyes, she reached behind herself and undid her brassiere. Her breasts were full and heavy, with wide brown nipples and dark beauty spots. She slipped off her shoes and pushed them under the chair, side by side. Then she unzipped her skirt.
The air was dense with thunder and impending rain; I felt torpid, barely able to move. I shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the hook by the door. Irina had taken off her skirt and panties and put them on the chair. Now she was sitting on the bed, rolling her stockings down her legs. The hair between her thighs was dense and black and tangled; her skin was pale. She looked up at me and frowned. "And what are you waiting for?" I shook myself, quickly removed the rest of my clothing as she lay back on the bed.
Naked, I lay down beside her and took her breasts in my hands as I always did. She sighed and closed her eyes. I sucked on her nipples, one after the other, and my hands roamed over her bare body. She spread her legs, and her hip rubbed against my swelling penis. When I cupped my palm between her thighs and pushed my fingers into her flesh, she grunted and bucked against me. Her hand groped down my stomach.
"He will be dead soon," she said, her voice husky. She guided me up and onto her, in between her legs. "He will," I agreed, sinking my fingers into the soft flesh of her sides, grinding my pelvis into hers. She moaned.
"And then we will be enemies," she said, her hands on my hips. I thrust forward, pushing into her. She made a deep guttural sound and opened herself wider, her heels against my buttocks. A crash of thunder shook the building, and a torrent of rain clattered suddenly against the window. We moved together on the bed, breathing heavily, our hips moving mechanically. "We will," I agreed.
She groaned again and put her arms around me, drawing my body heavily down onto her as I thrust between her legs. Our mouths came together awkwardly. I reached one hand down and slid it under her. My palm full of the thick moist flesh of her buttock, I thrust harder and more deeply, and she began to moan rhythmically. At the end, she arched her body and shouted, her fingernails raking my back.
Afterward, we lay on the sticky sheets, her head on my chest, like lovers. The rain came down steadily outside. "We've been comfortable for so long," she said.
I ran my hand down her back. "There are better things than comfort."
Her lips closed over my right nipple, and I felt her teeth. "You are right," she said. "Of course you are right."
He died, in fact, two days later.
The next three weeks were calm, at least on the surface. Publicly, the Government and the Party united in a show of mourning and respect for our late leader. Speeches were made, foreign diplomats received, some selected prisoners released. In private, all principals moved slowly, retesting the borders of their influence, finding themselves evenly matched, as expected, almost everywhere. Caution prevailed.
That Thursday afternoon, we learned that the Ministry of Justice had reserved a time slot for an evening television broadcast. Inexplicably, I was unable to determine its content beforehand. It seemed that Irina had decided to make the opening move, and that I would know its nature at the same time as the sweeper in the street, the whore by her lightpost. I sat before the idiot eye of the television in the Party's capital mansion, a handful of political officers smoking in the darkness behind me, a fresh Japanese woman in a red dress on the sofa beside me. As the broadcast came on, I stroked her stockinged knee, pushed open the high slit in her dress.
The head on the screen was not Irina herself, but one of her senior ministers. The words it spoke were not entirely surprising. The Government announced that, to its regret, it was forced to decertify and prosecute a certain branch of the Party in Oxala Province, because of disturbing incidents that had been discovered by the police. The Government was certain that the Party would cooperate fully in the investigation. No details were given, but the head talked for some time. Sucking my lower lip, I stroked the smooth skin of the woman beside me, drawing her leg into my lap. The weight of her limb felt good against me.
The Party would, I decided, cooperate fully. It had been clever of Irina to begin in Oxala. It presented us certain difficulties. But these difficulties had not been entirely unanticipated. I called a few instructions to those in the dark behind me, my fingers pressing the delicate skin behind the knee I held in my lap. Then I dismissed the men and put my hand behind her head, releasing her leg. Anticipating me, she bent her head down to my waist and unzipped my pants. Her fingers on my penis were gentle and delicate, her mouth warm. I sighed and lay back.
When Irina began to widen the scandal, as she would, she would discover some of the price of our cooperation. I imagined her frown when a key magistrate suddenly resigned, when one of her close assistants made certain revelations to the media. I felt her nipple again in my mouth, my body pushing in between her legs, her flesh hot beneath me. The Japanese woman's head bobbed faster in my lap, and I thrust up against her. She grunted, swallowing with practiced ease. I sent her away and reached for the telephone.
Long after midnight, the situation well in control, I logged onto a personal account, one not in my own name. There was one piece of mail. It was from Irina, encrypted and signed with a keypair that only she and I had known. I opened it. There was no text, only an image. I sat in the dark room, looking at the glowing screen, for a long minute.
The image was of Irina herself, naked, sitting on the edge of a bed with her feet on the floor splayed wide apart, her legs spread. Her hands were between her thighs, her fingers opening her labia, her body bent toward the camera, her breasts hanging down in front of her stomach, her hair over her face. Even in the grainy image on the screen, I could see the soft glistening structures within her vulva. It was an astoundingly wanton image, and it held my eyes. I wondered who had taken it, if he had been allowed in her bed afterwards. Irina never hesitated to use her body for political ends, and in the Government, and I feared even the Party, there were many men whose judgement could be clouded by the thought of her sex.
I considered for a moment whether the image could be useful to me politically. But it was too obvious, too blunt. I could never prove it was not a forgery. It might BE a forgery, for that matter, although I was sure it was not. I printed a copy of the image, and filed it, still encrypted, on the computer. I propped the printout on the table beside the bed, and lay down, thinking of the weight of Irina's flesh in my hands.
I had wondered for a moment if I should reply, how I should reply; but now I realized that with this image she had said everything that needed to be said between us. That night, I dreamed of her, naked and open and hot, her hands touching herself, separated from me by a screen of cold glass. | 4 |
4,376 | Caitlin's Tale | "Now, Master, now! Fuck me in the ass!"
Robert did not kneel behind her as she expected. Instead, he lifted her off the floor and laid her lengthwise on her stomach on the table. "Heather," he called. Caitlin turned her head and saw Heather a few feet away on a bench with her fingers buried in her pussy. Immediately, she stood and walked over to their master. Robert continued, "You did such a good job getting her ass wet before, you can do it again."
This time, Heather eagerly buried her face between Caitlin's buttocks. She attacked the prostrate girl's asshole with her tongue. Her tongue circled Caitlin's anus a few times, getting it slick with saliva. Then she stiffened her tongue and forced it into the hole. Caitlin's asshole sucked the muscle in, and Heather was actually able to wriggle her tongue around inside her. Caitlin bucked her ass up at Heather's face, trying to get even more of her tongue inside her. Heather moved lower, licking her cunt, sucking out the sperm of the two soldiers who had already fucked her there. She heard Robert laughing as he pulled the girl away from her pussy. Then she felt his cock enter her pussy in one long stroke.
He fucked her slowly for a few seconds, then withdrew from her body. Slick with the cum of two warriors and one slave, his prickhead poked at her anus. Hands pried her asscheeks apart, forcing her asshole to open wider. Slowly, painfully, Robert forced his cock into her. It seemed to take hours for the head to fully breach her entrance. And Caitlin loved every second of agony.
Almost anticlimactically, the ring of her asshole clamped down behind the head of her master's cock. The rest was easier to take, as the bulbous head stretched open her back passage to allow the rest of his cock to move into her. "Fill me, Master!" Caitlin pleaded. "Fill my ass with your cock! Fuck your slut's ass!"
Robert laid down along her back, pressing her breasts into the tabletop. He held onto the edges and used the leverage to push down even harder. He was heavy, but Caitlin barely noticed. Almost all her attention was focused on the fullness in her ass. Robert fucked with shallow, slow strokes. Caitlin bounced her hips against him. She was his slave. If he was going to take her, it was only right that he take her fully. Robert must have understood her message, for he began to lengthen his strokes and quicken his pace. Soon, he was giving her his entire length on every stroke. She wanted him to fuck her forever.
Suddenly, Heather's blonde pussy was before her face. "Lick it," Robert said. "She deserves pleasure from something besides her fingers. And you are the only one we will fuck tonight."
That's a shame, thought Caitlin, for she would have loved to suck the sperm from her pussy, or from her ass. But this is nice, too, she reflected as Heather lifted her pussy to her mouth. All too soon, Robert flooded her ass, and Heather flooded her mouth, and she flooded the table.
After that, the men took her three at a time. Actually, she climbed atop one man, and rode his cock. A second entered her slick ass, and a third presented his cock to her mouth. The ones in her mouth and ass came quickly, and were replaced by two more. These two also spent while the first man remained hard within her. One more man entered her ass. The cock in her pussy finally came, but the man it was attached to could not get out from under her. By the time his prick softened and fell out of her cunt, the other climaxed deep in her rectum. She had not been fucked by the same cock twice, and she had taken them all except...
"Etienne? Where is my master's brother? I want his cock inside me!"
"You may fuck my brother when I say so. Right now, there are only two cocks you are allowed to touch."
Caitlin looked over to her master. Robert stood there, stout ropes in either hand. At his feet sat the two wolfhounds. Long tongues hung out of their mouths, dripping saliva on the floor. Long thick cocks, pink and swollen, jutted from the sheaths under their bellies.
Her mind told her that she should be revolted, that her stomach should be turning at the thought of what her master expected of her. Her mind told her she should leave and never return, rather than degrade herself in such a way.
But it was her body that was in control. And her body was filled with lust. Her body demanded cock, any cock. And the dogs were huge, as big as most men, with large cocks, almost as big as Robert's. Her mind began to listen to her body. If she took on the dogs, the other men would fuck her. She would be allowed to fuck Etienne. She glanced over at her master's brother. If anything, his cock was bigger than before. Her eyes went back to the dogs. Look at them! her body said. They'll feel so good inside me, pounding away at me. You've seen how they fuck bitches, imagine them fucking me like that, fast and hard and powerfully. Think of it!
Robert saw her staring transfixed at the dogs, at their pricks. "Is there something you want to ask of me, slave?"
"Please, Master. May I fuck them?"
"You want to fuck these *dogs* slave?"
"Yes, Master." She was pleading now. She knelt on the floor a few feet from the men, and from those dogs. "Please will you let me?"
"I may. Is there anything else you want to do?"
"Oh, Master! Yes! I want to suck their cocks too. I want to swallow their seed! But I want, more than anything else, for them to fuck me. Please let me fuck them, let me suck them! Please?"
"Very well. Turn around."
She spun on her knees, presenting her backside to the group. She felt cum trickling down her thighs, cooling on her flesh. She looked over her shoulder at what was happening. Robert handed one leash to his brother. He let the other dog advance on her. The dog fought to get away from her master. Robert was actually leaning backwards as the dog strained toward her.Robert let the dog get close enough that his snout made contact with her ass, then he stopped.
The dog's tongue snaked out and licked up her pussy furrow and the crack of her ass. She heard him snuffle and felt his warm breath as he tried to clear the juices that had gotten into his nose. His tongue was wide and rough and wet. While it was not as agile as a human tongue, and unable to penetrate her, it was very powerful. Every time it lapped at her crotch, it battered her clit or asshole, and it moved like the dog was drinking water after three days without.
"Please, Master, let him fuck me!"
Robert let the dog go, and immediately he was mounting her ass. He was tall enough that he could stand on all fours above her. His powerful chest and narrow waist merged perfectly with her arched back and upthrust ass. His cock banged against her pussy, unable to enter her. Desperately, she reached between her legs and grasped it. It was incredibly hot, hotter by far than the human cocks she had held. And it was wet, leaking a copious amount of fluid. It coated her hand as she guided the cock to her entrance.
The dog did not enter her slowly and smoothly. He cared nothing about her comfort. As soon as the head was in her pussy, he fucked the rest of his cock into her in a single lightning-fast stroke. Caitlin was driven forward by the thrust, and she half-whimpered in pain, half-squealed in excitement. She rested her head on her arms and let the dog fuck her as hard and as fast as he wanted. His furry balls rubbed against her clit on each instroke. The knot at the base of his cock stretched her pussy open. She spread her knees wide apart and felt his hot belly rub along her asshole, the hairs tickling her anus and exciting her further.
She noticed she was whimpering. That and the dogs' heavy breathing were the only sounds in the hall. All evening, the men had made lewd comments to and about her, in French and English. There had been cheers and shouts of encouragement, and always laughter. But now, there was only silence, except for the sounds of bestial passion.
She opened her eyes. The men were dumfounded, even her master. Obviously, they had not believed she would do this so willingly, or enjoy it so much. That she was able to shock even these men thrilled her to her core. She decided to carry the performance even further.
She reached between her legs once more. She wrapped her fingers around the dog cock and, when he pulled almost all the way out, jerked him out of her pussy. Before the dog could make a forward thrust, she placed the head at her asshole. She howled when he fucked into her.
The dog howled as well, whether in response to her own cry or at the tightness of her ass, Caitlin had no idea. The dog tried to fuck her ass as hard and fast as he had fucked her cunt, but, despite the amount of fucking and semen it had received that night, her ass offered much more resistance to the invading cock. Although the pleasure she felt from the dog cock in her ass was great, the pain from his frantic fucking was also considerable. She wondered if she might have made a mistake.
She placed her shoulders directly on the floor and reached for her pussy with both hands. Three fingers of one hand went into her cunt, while two fingers of the other massaged her clitoris. She fucked herself in time to the hound's thrusts in her ass. She rubbed her clit even faster. As the small orgasms piled up, her ass relaxed even more, and she felt nothing but pleasure from the dog cock inside her. Even the small amount of pain she felt was pleasurable, like stretching aching muscles. This allowed the dog to fuck her even faster.
The prick in her ass and her fingers on her cunt soon had their effect. She climaxed under the dog's assault and her own ministrations. Her asshole spasmed around the dog cock, sending him over the edge as well. As her pussy quivered under her hands, she felt the dog's hot semen shoot deeply into her ass. His cock swelled to enormous proportions, and Caitlin was momentarily concerned that he would rip her apart. But after the first couple of spurts into her ass, the dog's cock popped out. There was some pain as the swollen head forced its way past the ring of muscle, but it only added to her climax. As the dog walked away from her, satisfied, Caitlin waved her hips in circles, wanting more.
She heard the other dog behind her, claws scrabbling on the floor as he tried to get at her. "You said you wanted to suck one, yes? And 'swallow his seed?'"
She turned over and looked at the dog's turgid cock. He was smaller than the other one. She might be able to get the whole thing in her mouth. She propped herself on her elbows and licked her lips.
"Aye, Master. Let me suck this one, please?"
Robert led the dog up to her. He tried to lick at her pussy, but Robert pulled him forward. He awkwardly tried to lower himself so that he could fuck her, but Robert pulled him forward. Finally, his cock was pointed straight at her watering mouth.
Without preamble, Caitlin opened wide and let the dog walk his cock into her mouth. His prick was just as hot as the other's, and it was also leaking prodigiously. His fluid tasted gamier than the men's, but just as delicious in its own way. It was definitely recognizable as semen, and she wondered if the men would taste this way if they ate nothing but meat all their lives.
His cock didn't seem as filthy as she had expected, either. Certainly it felt cleaner in her mouth than Ralf's had, but she couldn't smell it because of the overpowering scent of unwashed dog fur. When the dog got his cock into her mouth, instinct took over and he began to fuck her face like a pussy. She let him batter her lips for a few moments, but stopped him because he was hitting her nose, making tears well up in her eyes. She raised one hand and braced it against his hind legs, preventing him from fucking her mouth.
Instead, her mouth fucked him. She bobbed her head up and down on his prick. It constantly leaked thin salty fluid, and she enjoyed letting it fill her mouth and flow over her taste buds before she swallowed it. She took it out of her mouth and kissed up and down its length. She licked the sides and underside. She circled the pointed head with her tongue. At last she took it back into her mouth. She sucked hard, drawing more fluid from the dog's pisshole. She wanted to stroke his cock, but she needed both hands to hold herself up and to keep the dog from accidentally breaking her nose.
The dog began fighting her. His cock got harder and larger. More precum leaked from his cock, filling her mouth more quickly. It was thicker, now, as well. She knew the dog would come very soon. She hungered for his semen, she wanted it to flood her mouth and run down her chin. She wanted to drown in dog cum. Suddenly, the dog went stiff-legged and she felt the first burst of jism against the back of her throat. It was thinner than a man's, but with a wilder taste. And there was so much more of it. Caitlin was hard-pressed to swallow it all. Indeed, despite her efforts, a good deal of it did run down her chin and drip on her tits. She swallowed and sucked and swallowed again. It seemed like she was trying to swallow the sea.
But gradually, the tide ebbed. The river of cum became a stream, then a trickle. Caitlin sucked as hard as she could to get every last drop the dog cock had to offer. When she had gotten it all, the dog stepped back. She licked her lips to gather up as much cum as she could. The wolfhound dipped his head and lapped his own semen that had fallen to her tits. His tongue felt rough and cool on her nipples. He followed the trail of his cum up her chest and neck, to her face. When he had lapped it all up, he walked away, ignoring her.
Caitlin fell to her back. She spread her legs and pawed at her pussy. "Please, Master. May I fuck your brother now? Please will you let me feel him inside me?"
"No. You're still not ready."
Robert helped her up and led her over to the wooden frame. "If you want Etienne to fuck you, you have to be bound in this frame."
The frame was almost eight feet tall. She noticed that the lower half had holes at regular intervals in each post. Two pegs were placed in each post just lower than the levels of her knees. Robert helped her step onto the pegs. While he held her steady, two of the soldiers put her wrists in the upper bracelets. They were stiff and lined with soft fur. Then they put her ankles in the other cuffs. When she was bound hand and foot, Robert pulled out the supporting pegs, leaving her dangling by her wrists.
Caitlin groaned in painful ecstasy. "Will Etienne fuck me now, Master?" she panted. "Please?"
Robert just grinned at her. "No. But everyone else will."
"Ooohhh, Master!"
Ralf stepped up to her, breathing heavily in her face. He grabbed her roughly by the buttocks and lifted her onto his cock. She felt another cock nudge against her asshole. When Ralf let her sink, she was impaled front and back on two hard, long pricks. She sighed contentedly. Four hands lifted her, using her entire body to stroke the members inside her. Her arms were too weak to lift herself very high, and her feet had nothing beneath them; she could not even wrap her legs around Ralf. She could only rely on the strength of the soldiers to satisfy her.
Even though Caitlin was somewhat small, even though they were used to wielding heavy weapons in combat, even though there were two of them, the men could not raise and lower her body fast enough.Bending at the knees, they began to spear their pricks up into her holes. They fucked into her at the same time, lifting her as her cunt and asshole resisted their entry. She rose and sank on the stiff rods inside her, over and over and over again. Eventually, the warriors came inside her. They were replaced by two more, who fucked her to the edge of insensibility, through innumerable orgasms. Five times in all she took cocks in her cunt and ass, hanging from her wrists.
Only Robert and Etienne were left now. "I'm ready now, Master. Please let your brother fuck me. Please let him fuck me."
Robert bent down to unbuckle the ankle cuffs. He placed the pegs in the highest holes and lifted her to stand on them. Her head was now above the crossbar. She was too high for Etienne to fuck now. She wondered what her master had planned for her.
Etienne stepped out of the crowd. Caitlin was too fascinated by the giant's cock to notice what he carried. Then she saw. His sword. Still in its scabbard, he set its tip against the floor. It was a two-hand sword made for a giant's proportions. The hilt was nearly two and a half feet long, and the pommel was bigger than her fist. It reached almost to her cunt. In fact, she could look down and see droplets of sperm fall on the pommel from her leaking pussy.
"If you can take this," Robert was saying, "I'll know you're ready for Etienne." Caitlin shivered in anticipation.
While the brothers held the sword steady, Caitlin slowly lowered herself to the hilt. Her pussy lips touched the steel ball on the end, and she was surprised to find that it was not cold. She twisted her hips about, rubbing her cunt on the ball and on as much of the grip as she could reach, getting it wet with the juices that were now veritably pouring out of her. The grip was wrapped in leather strips, well-worn from use. But even so, she could feel the roughness left to the edges as she stroked her clit up and down its length.
Finally, she thought she had gotten it wet enough. The leather felt wonderful, but she was determined to fuck this sword so that she could fuck Etienne's... sword. Perhaps later she could wheedle a leather-hilted dagger from one of the warriors for her own use. The ball at the end of the hilt wasn't really a sphere, it was more egg-shaped, for battering at enemy heads. Caitlin rotated her cunt on the rounded tip of the pommel, widening her hole to accept it. As she sank lower, she continued moving to and fro, stretching the muscles to accommodate the rapidly widening pommel.
When she reached the widest point, she found she could not stretch any more. She resorted to brute force, pushing directly down upon the steel. She looked down to see how much she had gotten in, and saw Robert looking up at her, an approving smile playing across his lips. She redoubled her efforts. Then, suddenly, her muscles stretched and she dropped like a rock on the sword hilt. She caught herself before she fell too far. The pommel had entered her so suddenly, it had caused some pain.
Robert stood and massaged her clit with his middle finger. This caused her to relax even more, and she was able to once again begin moving down lower. Her pussy lips wrapped around the leather strips. They clung to the hilt. She had never felt so full. The pommel felt heavy in her pussy. It stretched her walls more than they had ever been stretched before. Again she looked down to see how far she had taken the hilt inside her. About half was buried inside her. She twisted around a little. This was all she was able to take, she decided.
She began to stand up on the pegs again. Slowly, she moved off of the weapon. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could see the outline of the pommel inside her belly. Up and down she moved on the hilt. Each stroke took half a minute. Then a quarter. Soon, she had relaxed enough that she was taking a foot of leather-covered steel in little over a second. She wished she had Etienne on top or underneath her. He would fuck her hard and fast. But the leather felt wonderful against her clit. She felt a pair of lips on hers.
It was the first time she had been kissed that night, and it surprised her. Only one man was tall enough to kiss her on this perch. She opened her eyes to see Etienne. But if he was kissing her, who was holding the sword? She glanced down. The sword was still standing on its tip, her pussy the only thing keeping it from toppling.
Faster she moved on the sword, squatting and standing, back as straight as she could manage to allow as much of the rigid steel as possible in her. The pommel was so filling, and the leather wrappings so stimulating, she knew she would climax at any moment. Faster and faster she fucked the weapon. She was moving almost as though she were fucking a man now. She squatted and stood, squatted and stood, and then...
She heard a clank as the sword fell to the floor.
"Nooo!" she sobbed as she tried to fuck empty air. She had been so close. Only one thing could be as filling as that sword. "Master," she pleaded. "Now Master, PLEASE!"
"Take her, brother," he said simply.
Etienne's powerful arms wrapped around her waist. In a single motion, he brought her down on top of his prick. He wasn't as wide as the pommel had been, but the girth of his prick was constant all the way to the root. He lifted and lowered her on his cock as though she were a feather pillow. He crushed her body to his. He had been waiting all night, watching her suck and fuck all those other men, and dogs, and even his own sword. He flooded her pussy with his cum. So forceful was his ejaculation, that it forced out the spendings of all the others she had had that night.
Stay hard, she prayed. Stay hard. She finally had him and she could not stand the thought of losing his cock so soon. Her prayers were answered. He stayed firm inside her. He continued bouncing her on his groin. She screamed her climax in his ear, her strongest one of the night. She went completely limp. She hung from the crossbar, her legs relaxed around Etienne. Only his grip on her ass and thighs kept her from sliding off of his magnificent member.
She felt someone loosening the bonds that held her to the frame. She felt herself falling, but she didn't care. She was completely filled. Strong hands caught her and she vaguely realized she was being carried, Etienne still rampant in her cunt, to a table. She felt the giant's body on top of her, she felt him fucking her savagely, but she was too exhausted to care. In a way, she barely noticed it. Her body kept climaxing, and she heard her own screams of passion. But her mind was somewhere else, retreating from the overwhelming sensations.
I think I remember more men buggering me, even Etienne, that night. And the dogs again. And dear Heather. But it is mostly a blur. I might be just remembering other nights when Heather and I served our master by serving his men.
Of course, it lasted only a year. Robert was felled by one of those Welsh arrows on a raid. Then Heather wed Etienne -- and the girl was even smaller than I was! -- and they left. When the king gave the keep to a new knight, I was more or less included, by my own choice. But the new man was no Robert, and one day I learned what it was like when the tables were turned. But that's another story.
But wait! I hear your mother coming. Get your hands out of your skirt, girl!
Oh, hello, daughter! Just telling the little one some of the things a woman must know.
The End | 1 |
4,389 | A Change of Direction | "Hello?" Laurie's voice echoed in the earpiece of her phone.
"Mother? It's Jacqui. I've just learned some things that I need to talk about with you. Now."
The emotion in her daughter's voice alarmed Laurie. "Jacqui, what is it? What is wrong?"
"*NOT* over the phone, Mother. You might want Bronwyn there, too. I have questions and I *want* answers. I will see you in about half an hour. Bye." The phone clicked off preemptively in Laurie's ear. Frightened now, she quickly dialed Bronwyn's line. Whatever this was, she did not want to face it alone.
Bronwyn and Jacqui arrived at Laurie's house almost simultaneously. Bronwyn was already out of her car and decided to wait for Jacqui to get out of her own before going up to the door. She watched as Jacqui, dressed in her jeans for a change, pulled a large manila envelope stuffed with paper out of her book bag before closing her car door behind her.
"Hello, Jacqui," she said pleasantly, "What is so important that you had to frighten your Mother and pull me away from my writing?"
Jacqui did not acknowledge the greeting, other than to say "Not out here, Bronwyn. Inside, please," before she stomped past to the door.
Inside, Laurie had laid a light lunch on the kitchen table where she led the two women after greeting them with hugs and kisses at the door. Once seated, a highly agitated Jacqui tossed the envelope she'd carried in with her across the table in the general direction of Bronwyn and her Mother.
Curious, Bronwyn opened the envelope and was surprised to see papers discussing various aspects of Wicca on top. Quickly, she riffled through the rest of the thick stack and found that all of the papers were on that topic. "I have been using the Internet to research modern-day witches. As you can see, the bulk of what I found is on Wicca. I started reading it and saw that it had much in common with what you two have been teaching me," Jacqui paused to take a calming breath. "With two small exceptions that I currently know about. Several of the documents specifically state that there is no concept of an entity of absolute evil in the Wiccan belief systems. In other words, they don't accept the existence of a devil. The other thing is that *they* include *male* witches in their groups. I don't think you do, Bronwyn. I don't know why I believe that, but I am absolutely convinced that the only men in your group are now women."
Bronwyn set the papers down and looked at Laurie before returning her attention to the very upset young woman across from them. "So?" She was not sure what had the girl so upset, but she knew she needed to get it out before they could help her.
"You two *do* believe in the existence of such an evil power. I have caught hints of that belief in your teaching of the magic, and in your conversations. That means that whatever you two and your Sisterhood are, you are very different from what I have read about in there. I want to know what is going on. There is something about all this that you have not told me. Somehow, I *know* that it involves whatever this evil power is and that it is at the core of the reason you Transformed me."
"Oh," Bronwyn sighed as Laurie looked down at her hands, avoiding making further eye contact with her daughter.
"That is all you have to say? "OH"???" Jacqui roared, pounding her fists against the tabletop in an altogether male response.
"No, Jacqui. That is not all we have to say." She shook her head. "Too soon," she thought. "She has not even had a full year of formal training, yet." Laurel and Bronwyn had previously agreed they would never tell the girl the whole story since they accepted that Jacqui would choose to become Jack. There simply was no reason for a powerless man to be concerned with the issues that confronted the Sisterhood.
That had just changed, radically, because of a tool that had not existed at the time of their own Transformations - the World Wide Web. Computers and magic were a powerful combination, and one that the Sisterhood had never really had to deal with before. The resulting synergy of such easily accessed and organized raw data coupled with Jacqui's own rapidly developing intuition was potent, if premature. Now, she had no choice but to explain most of the truth, and hope that Jacqui could deal with it. "All right, I will explain about the Sisterhood and why we continue to exist. I would ask that you listen, Jacqui, without comment until I am through. I give you my solemn word that everything I am about to say is the truth as we know it. You are correct in your surmise that we are not truly of Wicca. They are followers of peace. We also seek peace, but our order was created to fight for that peace. Perhaps a weak analogy is that the followers of Wicca are like the monastery monks of the Middle Ages. The Sisterhood is more akin to the fighting priesthood that was known as the Knights of the Temple, or more simply, the Knights Templar."
Bronwyn's Story.
There are two ways to power. One is the way of Light and one is via the absence of light, or the way of Darkness. The Sisterhood considers the way of Light to be the way of the Goddess whose dictates we follow. The converse of the Sisterhood is a group known as the Brotherhood. They follow the Dark Power which they personify into the being they call the Dark One. Whether such an entity really exists or not is a moot point. The Brotherhood believes that he exists and the power they attribute to deriving from him *is* real. We must deal with that power and with those who wield it.
In some ancient time before recorded history, the powers of Light and Dark existed together in harmony until something went very wrong. The followers of the Dark One attacked those who followed the Light and all but wiped them out. The group that undertook that ambush eventually became the Brotherhood. With the seeming destruction of the only beings who were capable of stopping them, the Brotherhood turned their power to conquest and brought the local tribes of men under their yoke.
However, unknown to the Brothers, a few of the men who were attacked survived the ambush. They hid from the Brotherhood and sought ways to oppose them without taking the same Dark Path. Ultimately, their search brought them to the Goddess. Upon hearing their appeal, and seeing the suffering of those under the Dominion of the Brotherhood, She offered them a bargain. She would grant them the power they needed to oppose the Brotherhood successfully, but only at a price. The survivors are said to have initially quailed at Her price, but finally, unable to bear the suffering of their fellow humans any longer, they agreed to the Goddess' offer. Thus, the Sisterhood was born, for the price of Her aid was the surrender of their masculinity. Gradually, the new Sisterhood grew in their own power and slowly began to confront the Brotherhood.
After a long struggle, they managed to bring about the downfall of the evil members who had led the rest of the group astray. Following that initial conflict, the two groups continued to exist as cohesive groups, while training new members to ensure the continuation of their orders.
It was at this juncture that the Sisterhood discovered that they could only breed sons; and sons could not wield the power bequeathed to them by the Goddess. Evidently something about their Goddess-Transformed eggs somehow rejected any sperm cell that carried a female-creating "X" chromosome. Again with the intervention of the Goddess, they developed their own version of the Transformation Spell as their only means of perpetuating the Sisterhood. This was absolutely vital because they knew that a viable instrument had to exist in order to combat the Brotherhood if they again decided to use the Dark Power to dominate other people.
Thus were two opposing factions born; the Brotherhood of Men wielding the Dark Power, and the Sisterhood of Transformed Men wielding the Power of Light. Time and again, evil men have gained power in the Brotherhood and have been opposed by the Sisterhood.Each time, the Sisterhood deterred the Brotherhood, but only at great personal cost to the members of the Sisterhood.
Understand, please, that the Dark Power is not inherently evil. Throughout our recorded history, there have been many good men in the Brotherhood; men who have used their power in the service and to the betterment of humankind. However, implicit in the Dark Power is the potential to bring forth evil in the men who wield it. When a particularly powerful Brother turns away from humanity, terrible things happen on the earth and many die before they can be stopped.
The most recent major confrontation between the Brotherhood and the Sisterhood occurred during this century. After nearly a hundred years of uneasy peace between the factions, a young acolyte of the Brotherhood came onto the scene. Rapidly, his command of the Dark Power grew. He used his power to captivate, to enthrall and to inspire huge crowds of fearful and desperate people. Eventually, he came to the attention of other members of the Brotherhood who shared his views on the world.
In a remarkable series of coups, the young man and his circle of supporters first took control of the Brotherhood, installing him as the High Leader, and then gained absolute power over their country with him as the nation's absolute dictator. Before this reign of terror ended, these men had nearly conquered the entire world while laying a great deal of it to waste. The young acolyte was Adolf Hitler, High Leader of the Brotherhood, and Führer (Leader) of Nazi Germany. The men who supported his dual rise to power in the Brotherhood and in Post-World War I Germany were Joseph Goebbels, Heinrich Himmler, Ernst Röhm, Martin Bormann and Rudolf Hess. The confrontation is recorded in human history as World War II.
Like the great nations of the world, the Sisterhood was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a new High Leader with aspirations of world domination and conquest. Although they perceived the danger sooner than the world's leaders, by the time they fully recognized the threat Hitler posed, he had become too powerful. It was only a matter of time before he took over Germany and the Sisterhood had already lost any hope of stopping him by direct action. Grimly, they were forced to accept that only with subtlety and blood - a great deal of blood - could they hope to stop him.
The essential contributions of the two great heroes of that conflict remain unknown to the world at large. Oddly enough, both were in the centers of national and world power throughout the conflict, but their true roles in shaping the final Allied victory remain the closely guarded secrets of the Sisterhood to this day.
One of these heroes was named Elias and the other was named Evan. At least, that was how they were known before they were initiated into the Sisterhood and all record of their male identities disappeared forever.
In 1930, the danger represented by Adolf Hitler finally became clear to the Sisterhood. Shortly thereafter, Eleanor (Elias) Roosevelt ascended to the office of High Priestess of the Sisterhood. Rarely do Sisters take such public roles, and never before had a High Priestess been so well known, but those were desperate times. As a result of her family's public persona, only one of her sons, the oldest, was Transformed. Unfortunately, once it became obvious that FDR was going to be a very public figure, Eleanor was forced to attempt the Transformation when Alan, then Anna, was very young. She had to "adjust" FDR's memories to do this, but she was there to protect him against outside magical influences. In the final analysis, Anna was too young at the time of Transformation for she never was able to learn to wield the power. That sometimes happens when a subject is very young at the time of Transformation. In any case, none of the other sons could be Transformed under such worldwide public scrutiny, so their entry into the Sisterhood was sacrificed to win the War.
Eleanor's primary task was to prepare an unwilling, isolationist United States for the unavoidable war to come. Under her direction, the power of the Sisterhood was used as never before, influencing the outcomes of certain critical events in the United States. How else, but with the help of the Goddess, could a man confined to a wheelchair win the Presidency of a country still tied to its rough and tumble past? With her husband installed in the White House, she used the power of his office to revive the Depression-crippled economy, ensuring that it would be ready to be "The Arsenal of Democracy" when the dark days came.
However, the most important action undertaken by the Sisterhood under her leadership was also the most painful one - the complete disruption of certain critical U.S. intelligence and military operations in the early hours of December 7, 1941. Eleanor's efforts deprived the United States of information that should have given at least six hours of advanced warning of the imminent attack on Pearl Harbor by elements of the Japanese Navy. Eleanor knew that only a fully committed and war-hungry United States could defeat the Brotherhood-supported Nazi War Machine. Therefore, she and other members of the Sisterhood interfered with the collection, analysis and consolidation of the various clues that otherwise would have accurately predicted the Pearl Harbor attack. This gave the Japanese their clear, unopposed path to Pearl Harbor, and put the power of the United States irrevocably and completely on the side of the Allies.
Eleanor's final crucial decision was made in 1944. It was another very painful duty for a woman sworn to protect and nurture life. By the end of 1943, it had become obvious that not even the strongest healers in the Sisterhood could keep the increasingly frail FDR alive much longer. However, the country still needed a strong leader to finish the job that Eleanor, through FDR, had begun. The best, most merciful option would have been to have someone else win the Presidency that year and let Roosevelt go home and die in peace. Unfortunately, none of the likely winners of a post-FDR election possessed the strength of character that would be necessary in the final days of the conflict. Finally, and with much remorse, Eleanor agreed to make FDR run for President one last time, knowing that he could not possibly survive another year in that office.
The High Priestess of the Sisterhood personally handpicked the best man for the onerous tasks ahead to be FDR's final running mate. Thus, the little known Senator for Missouri, Harry S. Truman, was elected Vice President of the United States in the 1944 elections. Less than a year after assuming that office, Mr. Truman ascended to the Presidency of the United States.
The other great unknown hero of the War was Eva (Evan) Braun. In 1932, she became the Sisterhood's woman inside the Nazi-Brotherhood cabal. As Adolf Hitler's Mistress for almost fourteen years, she suffered terribly. Eva Braun tolerated and encouraged the attentions of a sadistic madman so that she could collect and pass on vital intelligence about German operations and planning to the Allies via the Sisterhood. She also subtly reinforced Hitler's growing megalomania by pandering to his already monumental ego. One result of her efforts was Hitler's precipitous and ultimately disastrous invasion of the Soviet Union that forced Germany to fight a hopeless two-front war. Eva even managed to influence Hitler to see the infamous Dr. Mengele whose crippling drug "therapies" further undermined the self-control of the insane High Leader.
By volunteering to become the Sisterhood's conduit to and from Hitler's lair, Eva had willingly accepted a life that was hell on earth. Toward the end of the war, the Führer's madness grew geometrically with each defeat, and so did the torments he inflicted on Eva. Her final act of heroism was in the manner and method of her own death. Fearing that Hitler or one of his henchmen might at last have seen through her disguise, she elected to induce him to commit suicide. She died beside him that fateful day in the Berlin Bunker, literally shaming him into finally taking his own life with her own courageous example. Goebbels' last hope of smuggling the High Leader out of Germany and reconstituting their Power through Hitler as a figurehead, died with Eva and the Führer. Goebbels took his own life shortly thereafter.
Now, we appear to be facing a new, and evidently, very powerful High Leader who shares those dreams of conquest. We don't know who or where he is, but we have seen signs that point in that direction. We needed to prepare for a conflict, and we needed more power on our side of the ledger. As I said earlier, only women can wield the white magic. Similarly, only men can wield the dark. As Jack, you could not wield the Dark Power because of certain rites that were performed by your Mother at your birth. Still, you had a spark of power in you that could become great if you accepted the Gift of the Goddess. That was why the Sisterhood Transformed you - so you could become a woman who could grow in the power the Sisterhood needs to face a rearmed Brotherhood.
Jacqui was very quiet after Bronwyn finished her tale. Whatever she had expected, what she had been told was not it. Was she supposed to become some type of female mystic warrior, fighting to the death against the evil minions of the Dark Brotherhood? Lord, it sounded like something from a comic book or a B-Movie, "Texas Chainsaw Bimbo Witches." "I don't think I can deal with this, Mom, Bronwyn. You did this to me, took away everything I thought was mine, to go to war? What am I? Some sort of witch-assassin in training? Buffy the Brother-Slayer?"
The other two women spoke simultaneously. "No!" "Goddess, no!" then looked at each other apologetically. Laurie continued."Jacqui, the Sisterhood does not, cannot kill. We fight the Brotherhood, yes, but our purpose is to deprive them of power, not life. Remember what I told you would happen if you aborted a child. A Sister who kills another human being forfeits forever the Gift of the Goddess."
"But how? I mean, what do you... Lord, I assume that the Brotherhood has no such limitations on the use of their power?"
Bronwyn smiled sadly. "You assume correctly. The Dark Power is very capable of destruction and death. It is one of the reasons that Hitler was so effective at removing his opponents just before they became a real problem. The Brotherhood can and does kill, Jacqui, with great ease and effect."
"They can try to kill you, but you can't kill in return." Jacqui just shook her head in disbelief. "Amazing. I am surprised there is a Sisterhood left if these little turf wars have been going on throughout history."
"There have been times when it has been a near thing, but we are not so defenseless as that. The Dark Power exists in the absence of light. Our power derives from the Light, and we have ways to attack individual Brothers, provided they are not too powerful, by sort of "filling in" the dark places with light. That is not quite what we do, but the analogy is close. In any case, the end result of that attack is a Brother who has been permanently divorced from his source of power, and who no longer has any feelings of aggression. Some of us are very powerful, and we can do this to most of the Brotherhood."
"We also," Bronwyn continued, "Work as we did during World War II, removing their power base in the non-magic world, and de-stabilizing their command structure. As we said, not all Brothers are evil and usually, the ones who are not take advantage of our activities to bring down the evil ones."
"Sounds like a shaky way to fight a war, Bronwyn. I suspect there are casualties?"
"Sadly, yes. On both sides."
"And you," Jacqui looked at Bronwyn before turning her eyes to Laurie, "and you, want me to join your fight?"
Bronwyn took Laurie's trembling hand. The accusation in Jacqui's voice pained her, and had to devastate Laurie. "We felt that, once again, the world would need us to be ready to face the Brotherhood and to answer that call, we felt that we needed you and your talents on our side," she answered with grim dignity.
"Greetings from the High Priestess, you have been drafted." She returned with disgusted irony in her tones. "I don't want any part of that, Bronwyn. Now, I suppose this is where you tell me that my failure to cooperate will force you to end the lessons I need to be able to reverse the Transformation Spell?"
"No!" the shout from Laurie rocked Jacqui back. "I told you, I promised you that I would do everything in my power to help you undo what I have done. That promise stands unchanged and unconditionally. Whether we wanted you to help us or not is a moot point, since we have accepted that your foremost desire is to change back. As Jack, you cannot wield the power. There is nothing Jack could do to help us."
Bronwyn added. "I add my own assurances to your Mother's, Jacqui. Nothing changes. Yes, we want and need the power you could add to our ranks. However, you have to want to be there with us, the same as any other Sister. Some of us are going to die in the coming fight, Jacqui. Those who go to fight, must know in their hearts that such a sacrifice is justified. If you don't feel that way, there is no way we could permit you to join us."
Nothing more was said for several minutes as all three women tried to cope with the emotions of the previous half hour. Finally, Bronwyn held out a hand to Jacqui. She eyed it, and then slowly reached out her own to take it in hers. Tentatively, Laurie held out her free hand to her daughter and felt joy when Jacqui all but snatched at it, gripping it tightly in her own. "I don't know about you two," Bronwyn said haltingly, "But I would really like to be held." Simultaneous "Me, too"-s answered her and she used her own power to shift them into Laurie's large bed. Disoriented by the teleportation, it took Jacqui a moment or two to realize where she was and that she was in the middle between the two older women. It only took an instant longer than that to realize that all of them were completely naked. Unprepared for the sudden change, Jacqui spun toward her Mother and made to get out of the bed. Bronwyn caught her about the waist and pulled her back down and into her, spoon fashion and her Mother enfolded her in a full body embrace, her breasts flattening against Jacqui's own. Jacqui's protest were swallowed by Laurie's mouth covering her own and Laurie's tongue impudently exploring her mouth. The clever hands of two experienced women made short work of any lingering, halfhearted resistance.
The man entered into the spacious office, pleased for once to make his reports. He had what he thought was good news for a change. The High Leader was seated at his desk, pouring over some report, which he continued until he deemed he had made his minion wait long enough. Even so petty an expression of power fed the hunger inside him. "Well?" he asked preemptively.
"The girl has been doing a very exhaustive search of online and other reference resources for information on witches and magic for some time now. We have been monitoring her accounts and know exactly what she has seen and what she has downloaded to her private machine." He looked up from his notes at the High Leader.
"So?" he challenged. "The boy-slut is highly computer literate. That she is using those skills to try and learn about the ones who did this to him should be expected. Too bad your ineffectual organization did not discover him until after the bitches Transformed him. I could have used someone with that potential for power coupled with modern technical skills."
Fearing the direction the High Leader was taking this discussion, the Chief rushed on to get back to his own purpose in being here. "Yes, we did expect the data search, High Leader, which is why we have tapped her accounts. In any case, after the last download, she spent some time apparently organizing and analyzing the data, then phoned her Mother. She refused to tell her what she wanted, but rather insisted on meeting her immediately, along with the other subject, Bronwyn Llewellyn. All three subjects met at the Mother's house about thirty minutes later. No one left until the next morning."
The High Leader considered this. "I think we can assume that the Llewellyn woman is a high adept of the Sisterhood, perhaps even the High Priestess. We know she protected the girl throughout her last year of high school and has continued to take a deep interest in her activities since. As far as we know, this is a singular deviation from their normal procedure of leaving the Transformed sluts to their Mothers. So, the girl must be important to them. Why?" He looked up at his minion with angry eyes. "Tell me why!" he bellowed. "And don't come back here until you can. Don't make me wait too long for your return, either."
The man scurried from the room, his heart racing. That had been a near thing. The High Leader was becoming more dangerously unpredictable with each passing day. | 1 |
4,396 | Latin Night by Lucinda Gavin | "Hey! Look at you!" cried Zeke. I smiled a little as I turned to Tommy's friend. "You fixing to go out or something?"
"Yeah, I'm going dancing, while y'all mess up my living room." I looked in and saw that Tommy had already laid out the flimsy paper map with a honeycomb grid. "War games tonight. Just you and Zeke, sweetie?"
"Yep. Everyone's out of town during the semester break. Sure you don't want to stay and join us? Isn't it going to be hot there?"
"No, you and Zeke have fun. The club will be less crowded, and I've learned to sweat gracefully. I'll see you later tonight, sweetie." I kissed Tommy on the top of his head and squeezed his shoulder. The big man mumbled something and patted my hand as he focused on the overflowing clipboard in his hand. As I stepped out of the house, I stumbled against the humidity, so heavy in contrast to the air-conditioned house. The mist rose up from the pavement, which was still wet from the evening rains. I felt the moisture bead up on my forehead.
"Damn, I thought, this is going to be sooo flattering."
I parked in the lot across from the club, actually an old house that had been converted into a nightclub. It has two small dance floors and several rooms with low couches and pillows; it is really a fun place. As I left my car, the man who is part pan-handler and part evangelist greeted me. His presence is actually a comfort, knowing the college town's crack houses are only a block or two away. I walked up the steps to the house, pulling my driver's license from a tiny purse. The bouncer was dressed in black, and it was clear he worked out, although the t-shirt hung loosely and he wore baggy pleated trousers. It was too hot to be a show-off tonight.
It was still early, so I bought a soda and sat at a table. A few people waved, and I smiled back. They didn't beckon me over, and I didn't leave my table. They were speaking Spanish, and I haven't learned the language, although I suppose I should. I came to dance, and they knew that. I'm too old, too white, and too... different to completely belong here. I know, I know, I shouldn't think that way. These are college kids, but you won't see pierced noses or tattoos or combat boots on Latin Night. I don't know why not, but you won't. These kids are middle class and mainstream.
A colleague from the department came over and talked with me for a while. He was being very gracious, and I appreciated that. We talked shop for a moment, and I let him go circulate. I went to the other side of the house to watch the dancers. I felt the music before I heard it, the insistent beat of a merengue. Merengue was the first Latin dance I learned; it's the first Latin dance anyone learns. It's a simple one-two, one-two beat, the trick is the hips. There were only a handful of couples on the floor, although the adjoining room had a few clusters of women dancing in circles. Some of the young women wore their little black dresses with the spaghetti straps and high-heeled shoes. Others wore little tank tops and miniskirts or tight-fitting bell bottoms. Later, I would see Dominique from dance class, with a filmy top tied at the waist and an equally filmy and flippy white miniskirt with a thong clearly visible. You have to admire that girl's audacity.
As for myself, I had to compromise between audacity and sensibility. I wore a purple t-shirt dress that would have been a minidress on someone taller, but suited me fine. Its v-neck gave me enough cleavage for confidence, and that's about it. I wore flats, I wanted to last a little longer than three dances, and no stockings. I left my eyeglasses in the glove compartment, and my hair was restrained by nothing but an amazing concoction used to tame curls in this awful humidity. And under it all was a black lace bra and a thong. I couldn't help but feel a little aroused when the soft cotton of my dress slid across my bare hips, and the thong shifted between my legs as I walked. I've learned it's that little sparkle in your eye that attracts men better than anything else.
I leaned against the wall, watching people dance. This particular club has painted their walls in a dark undulating pattern I'm old enough to recognize as psychedelic. In the darkness, interrupted by the disco lights, it appears black, white, and brown. The shifting lights and moving bodies combined with the smell of smoke and heat, and I was immersed in a purely sensual experience. The smell of cloves was heavy, and it bit at my throat. The DJ played another merengue, and the men pulled the women close, leading them in tight, frantic circles before releasing their young beauties for a turn or two. I saw an arm stretched out before me, and recognized my colleague in the darkness.
I gave him my arm, and he led me to the dance floor. I joke that this is the only place I let someone else lead. That's more true than I'd like to admit. I rested my left arm over his, and he took hold of my right hand. We began our own merengue, my hips rocking in time with his. In spite of the erotic implications, we've always maintained the appropriate distance physically and emotionally. I felt my body awaken to the music, and I let him lead me through the turns. I've always considered myself clumsy, and it still startles me that I can dance now. Sweat ran down my back and down my face. I didn't care, that's what I was here for. In spite of myself, I felt a warmth build between my legs, and that was okay with me.
The song ended, and I thanked my partner. The next song was a salsa, but to use the singular is misleading. This is not one basic step; there are many variations, and each man has his favorite. Salsa isn't a bad word for this dance, a lot of hot stuff chopped up and thrown together. I saw Terrell and asked him if he would dance. Terrell is a physical dancer, and if you don't match his burly style of salsa, he will drag you across the floor. As he turned me, my hand slipped across his slick arm, and I almost lost his grasp. He laughed and pulled me into a tight circle, his arm close against my back. Terrell let go, turned me a few times, and we continued dancing.
By the time the next song began, I was pretty hot and sweaty and needed a little break. I found a chair and watched the dancers. Couples filled both rooms as the young men consumed enough liquid courage to ask the young women to dance. A few young men were very good, moving gracefully with compact, lean bodies. Their hair was cut very short as a defense against the heat. A couple almost remind me of the young flyboys from a local air base back home, that would come to clubs when I had been an undergraduate. Their partners were equally graceful and pretty, since a man who dances well will surely attract attention. I couldn't help but notice the girls' slender legs, shaped by months or years of dancing. I looked on with a bit of envy at these beautiful young women, particularly as they turned the floor with such confident partners. I noticed a group of black girls dancing together on one side of the room. They moved in a different style to the fast, heavy beat than that of the Latin dancers. One young woman in particular expressed the erotic rhythms in her own compelling way, arching her supple back. I watched a young man teach his blond girlfriend how to salsa. I eventually lost focus of the details, and it all ran together, the bodies moving, black, white, and brown.
A young woman with a pretty face, wearing a wrap skirt and a short top that showed her belly, walked onto the dance floor with a young man. As he put his hand on her back, she pulled herself to him, pressing her hips against his. Her hips moved in time with the music against his thigh, and when he looked down at her, she smiled. The young man led her into a turn, and as the girl moved, she turned slowly, keeping her hips touching him. He then led her into a 'basket' where she faced away from him, their arms wrapped around her, her pelvis swaying and rubbing the front of his pants. I watched this rhythmic seduction, unable to turn away. Terrell, exhausted, collapsed beside me. He leaned over to speak into my ear.
"What's up, you're looking like a zombie or something."
I turned to speak into his ear over the loud music.
"I'm watching them, can't help it."
Terrell looked up to see the young couple intertwined. He smiled and leaned back to my ear."Hoo yeah, they're getting jiggy with it! Why don't you go home to your old man and do something about it?"
"I should, but he's still gaming... I just need to be distracted."
"Allow me, then. May I have this dance?"
So once again, Terrell was leading me across the dance floor, and I was focused on keeping up with him. He made a few funny faces and even led me into a triple-step swing, which is seen mostly in country and western bars. I laughed. As we danced, I became drenched with sweat, my hands slipping in Terrell's, and it became too difficult for him to turn me in his vigorous style. Terrell was tired too, the humidity was simply too much. Soon he just pulled me against him, and we rocked back and forth on the dance floor. I was intensely aware of his hand on my lower back, and the heat returned between my legs as his hips pressed against mine. Terrell brought my right hand up to rest on his shoulder and then my left. The heat turned to an ache as his hands returned to my waist. He squeezed me for a moment, and I closed my eyes. A part of me wanted to beg him to move his hands lower, and I could feel every brush of his leg between my thighs. I was no longer aware of the music except for the driving beat which resonated between our bodies. I no longer smelled the smoke, but I could smell Terrell, the sweat and something which I guessed to be desire. All I could see was my hand resting against his shoulder, while the sweat glistened on his neck -- black, white, and brown. I was lost to my senses and to the man in whose arms I stood.
And the music ended.
The next song brought a mild outcry, and I heard the word 'Lame!' bounce from the crowd. I was a bit startled and backed away from Terrell. I noticed immediately that Terrell didn't stop me. The air felt cool on the places where Terrell's body had been. It took me a moment to look Terrell in the face, and even then, he didn't meet my gaze right away.
"I'm going to get something to drink, you want anything?" He finally managed.
"Uh no, I think I'd better be getting home, the smoke is getting to me."
"Yeah, it gets to me too."
"Well, um, thanks for the dance."
"Listen, Dr. Kruger, I mean, Meg..."
"It's okay, Terrell... it was nice."
"It's cool then?"
"It's cool." I smiled up at the young man, touching him on the shoulder. The air felt much fresher outside than in the crowded club, and my head cleared somewhat. When I stepped into my car, however, a sense of loss came over me. I turned on the radio and found the Spanish station. I wanted the noise, the beat, not the silence of my car. When I arrived home, I was disappointed to see Zeke's pickup in the driveway, even though I knew it was still early for them.
Even before I opened the front door, I could hear Metallica playing. It wasn't fair, but this was exactly what I didn't want.
"Hey honey, you're home early. Woooeee! You look like a drowned rat! Told you it was going to be hot."
"Yeah, I must look a mess. I'm really tired, I'm just going to shower and go to bed. Could you turn down the music a little?" I could hear my voice getting sharp and felt guilty. Goddamit, why did I feel guilty?
"Sure thing. You're sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I just need to rest."
I went straight to the upstairs bathroom and turned on the water. I kicked off my shoes and pulled the damp cotton dress over my head. I watched myself in the mirror as I reached behind and unhooked my bra. The flesh was red where the straps dug into my shoulders. I tried to slide the thong off my hips, yanking at it as it stuck to my sweaty skin. I stepped into the shower, letting out a tired breath. I just stood and let the hot water run over me. I picked up the soap and began to lather up, beginning with my tired ankles. I tried to use slow strokes to bring back the aroused feeling, but something was wrong. Midway through the shower, I tried again by slipping my finger between my legs, but it wasn't right, I was forcing it. At least shampooing my hair felt somewhat soothing. I got out and toweled myself off, wrapping the big damp towel around me. I was relieved to turn off the bright lights of the bathroom as I went to bed.
When I entered the bedroom, I walked over to the small collection of CDs and found some Latin music. I had bought it for practicing between classes. I went back to the queen-size bed I shared with Tommy and put the CD in my portable player, so that I could use the headphones. I hit the play button and once again I felt the beat. I unwrapped the towel and lied back on the bed in the dark. I let myself relax and tried to remember Terrell's familiar hands. This time, they slid down to my ass, and squeezed them, rubbing them possessively. I imagined I lifted a leg and wrapped it around him, pulling myself onto him more tightly. My nipples hardened in the cool air-conditioned room, and I took them between my thumb and fingers, rolling them, pinching them, and evoking that familiar tension. My pussy began to ache, and I spread my legs. I believed that the ache pulsated to the beat of the music. I slipped my fingers of one hand between the folds of my pussy and found my clit. I rubbed it directly in small circles. I then dipped a finger farther down and found that I was wet. I brought some of the juices up to my clit. As I rubbed, the little bud would slip under my finger, teasing me and causing the aching to build.
I thought back to the young man as we danced, and he pressed my body into his. I imagined grinding my hips into his and feeling his erection. I wanted to slip my hand down and rub his young cock, while he slipped his hands between my legs and felt my arousal. My pussy ached, and I pressed my feet into the bed, squeezing my pelvis. My breathing became heavy, and I could feel my face get flushed. I couldn't distinguish my pulse from the throbbing beat of the music. I imagined Terrell taking me there on the dance floor with impatient thrusts as I ground my fingers against my sensitive clit. I felt the orgasm spread from my clit until a light sweat broke on my forehead. My head fell back on the pillow.
The music suddenly seemed very loud, and I took off the headphones. I was still breathing heavily and felt that drowsy feeling. I woke again when Tommy came to bed.
"Mmmm... you smell good. I see you used Uncle Tommy's never-fail insomnia remedy."
"Huh?... oh ... mmm-masturbation, you mean?" Tommy had his hand between my legs, coating his fingers with my juices.
"Dreaming of me I hope?"
"Huh? Uh... well..." I didn't know what to say, Tommy and I have tried to be honest with each other.
"Mmmm," Tommy said as he ducked his head under the covers, "An extra-curricular fantasy?"
"Well, maybe..."
"That's a relief," Tommy said, muffled by the quilt, "Wouldn't want to be the only one in the house with those. Why don't you tell me about it, while I'm under here, eh?"
I would have jumped as Tommy took my clit in his mouth, but he grabbed my hips and held me steady.
"Ummm," I said as my voice trembled with arousal, "As you know, I wore the purple dress tonight..." | 1 |
4,402 | Home Cooking (A very short story) | "Bye, darling! Bye!" Melanie waved her husband off to work, just as she did every morning. She closed the front door and sat in the lounge, staring out of the window into their back garden. It was Jason's 30th birthday today, and she wanted him to have a real surprise waiting for him when he returned home.
Melanie walked over to the window and looked at the new barbecue combi oven Jason had built. Ever since they had joined the local "Dolcett Circle" and seen the excellent artwork and stories of this maestro of the cookout, she had fantasized about being cooked and eaten, and she knew Jason wanted to sink his teeth into her soft flesh for real. Just thinking about it was making her wet.
For several months, they had discussed making their fantasies a reality, but Jason had never really pushed the idea, and Melanie had let the matter drop. After a couple of months of not mentioning it, Jason, completely out of the blue, built the oven. Melanie knew it wouldn't be long before her firm, sexy body was sizzling meat. With this in mind, she had decided that if she were destined for the pot, she would cook herself for Jason on his birthday.
Melanie went to the kitchen and began preparing the stuffing. She grinned as she made the mixture; she was going to make sure she enjoyed stuffing herself, that was for sure. Melanie stripped naked and cleaned herself out, back and front, then sprayed cooking oil into her pussy and ass. She lay on the kitchen table and, using the blunt end of one of her dildos, began stuffing her pussy.
"Ooooooo! Yea!"
The warm, gooey mixture was pushed deep into Melanie's belly; she could feel its warmth glowing inside her. The heavily ribbed dildo was rubbing against her clit; every fresh handful of stuffing was rammed home harder than the last. Melanie could feel the stuffing pushing at the entrance to her womb. She picked up the next blob of stuffing and pushed it in hard.
"Eeeeeeeee!"
She felt herself open, and the mixture squirt onto the lining of her womb. It felt so good. She pushed more stuffing into her pussy, watching as her stomach expanded as she filled herself to the brim. The dildo, slick with stuffing and pussy juice, slid in and out of her wet cunt.
"Oooooo! This feels so good. Nnnnnnnghgh"
"I'm Cumming! Oh, fuck, I'm cumming! Urrrrrrghgh!"
Melanie's body shuddered as her orgasm rippled through her. As she gradually got her breath back, the one thought on her mind was "now to stuff my ass."
A small groan fell from Melanie's lips as the first handful of stuffing entered her bowels. Slowly, her insides were filled, and what was left in the bowl, she ate, washing it down with glasses of wine.
Feeling more than a little bloated and in need of a good shit, Melanie waddled into the garden. She opened the oven door and checked the baking tray was ready. A selection of vegetables lined the edge of the tray, ready for the meat to be added. She checked the automatic timer and temperature controls, picking up a bottle of cooking oil and pouring half into the tray, smearing her body with the rest. Her hands glided over her nice, firm breasts, pulling her nipples as they went. Her fingers slid easily into her pussy and ass, and she was soon smearing her body with a mixture of oil, stuffing, and pussy juice. When Melanie felt her own juices begin to trickle down her leg, she swallowed hard and climbed into the oven.
The cool oil felt good against her skin, and her nipples hardened at the thought of her skin roasting, cracking, and her own juices basting her succulent meat. Melanie reached out of the oven and pressed the auto button; the door closed with a mechanical click as the child safety lock sealed her fate.
The oven's fans began to hum as hot air blew over Melanie's delicious body. Melanie began to get wet as the heat in her pussy competed with the heat of the oven. The heat, it was so, so hot. Her first sensation was of tightness as her skin shrank slightly, the pressure on her nipples felt good.
"Mmmmmmm!"
Melanie was getting hot, really hot!
The oil had started to bubble, and she felt the back of her body start to gently fry; she felt the muscle of her anus begin to cook.
"Nnnnnnnngh! I'm gonna cum!"
Her skin was pulling tighter all over her body. As her clit split open, her orgasm ripped through her, her body jerked, and hot oil splashed over her skin, making a delicious sizzling noise.
Just before Melanie died, she managed to lift her head, and in the light coming in through the glass door, she saw her breasts all golden brown, ready to eat. One final pleasure was hers when she watched her right nipple burst open and her breast juice run over her roasting tits.
When Jason arrived home, he was greeted by the smell of something burning. He followed his nose into the garden, where thin wisps of smoke drifted from the oven. Quickly, he switched it off and, with a sense of unease, opened the oven door. He looked down at the burnt, charred remains of his once beautiful wife. He shook his head in disbelief.
"I don't know why I married that girl? She never could cook!" | 6 |
4,415 | Late for Dinner | "Let me put a little Vaseline on the hose tips, and we'll get your little bottoms all nice and clean," Mommy chirped.
"Thanks, Mommy," Kathy and Christi leaned their bottoms up against the side of the bathtub. "This is so cool! Our bottoms will be nice and numb when Mrs. Potter tells us to bend over and spread them."
Christi looked over her shoulder at Mommy. "Would you mind not putting any Demerol in mine, please? I want to feel every delicious rip and tear."
"Why, certainly, Christi," Mommy smiled. "I guess you don't have a sensitive sphincter like Kathy and I do."
"Christi!" Kathy almost screamed as the tiny tube knocked on her tight backdoor. "You can't possibly be serious? She's going to put her whole arm up there!"
"Yeah," Christi said dreamily, "I know."
The girls had just finished filling Mommy when the doorbell rang. Kathy dashed downstairs to welcome their guests.
"Ho ho, Kathy," Officer Ray wrapped his arms around her waist. "Nothing like being greeted by an eager suspect. Where's your Mommy, little girl?" He slipped an envelope into the top of Kathy's garterbelt.
"We're just giving her an enema to get her ready for you and Mrs. Potter," Kathy looked over at the tall woman with flowing raven hair who was taking off her coat and revealing a stunning, pearl-white body. She was nude except for thigh-length black latex boots and elbow-length gloves and a gigantic black phallic strap-on that rose menacingly from her womanhood.
Mrs. Potter took a black-handled riding crop from her purse, "Well, Kathy, you look lovely tonight." She ran the tip of the crop across the trembling girl's left breast. "I see you've healed nicely from target practice."
"Yes, Ma'am," Kathy answered respectfully. "Mommy says we mend faster than most people." She was stunned at how different Mrs. Potter acted when she let her hair down.
"Hello, Officer Ray, we're ready to help you catch all those awful tiny criminals," Mommy giggled as she descended the stairs. She was a little wobbly from the Demerol.
"Ho ho, Kathy's Mommy," he bounded up the stairs to steady her. "And who's this?" the jolly policeman asked as Christi came into view.
"This is Kathy's little girlfriend," Mommy said. "Christi tells us we're in for a real treat, Mrs. Potter."
"My mom and I live down the block from you, Ma'am," the blue-eyed brunette slipped past Mommy and the officer and knelt humbly at Mrs. Potter's feet. "She always says how much she appreciates you and Mr. Potter taking time for a lonely widow who doesn't have a husband to keep her in line."
"It's my pleasure," Mrs. Potter cracked the crop across the cowering girl. "You're mother suffers so sweetly and," swack, "I see you do, too."
Kathy quickly slipped the envelope under a couch cushion while all eyes focused on the delicate pattern of red welts that was forming like magic on Christi's back.She stopped in the living room and pretended to check her seams, then quickly slipped her hand between the cushions of the couch. The envelope was still there!
"So, what are you going to do, Kathy?" Christi propped her chin on the pretty blonde's flat stomach.
"I don't know," Kathy sighed and shifted on the bed. "Michael's letter is just so, so sweet. He says he's suffered a setback, but he's working really hard so he can get out and come see me."
"I think 'Michael' just needs to learn to let go," Christi teased as she slipped her tongue into Kathy's belly button.
"Ha, ha. Really funny. Now, what am I going to do?" Kathy fretted. She hadn't told Mommy and Daddy about the passion that had ignited during her night at the County Home.
"How many guys have tried to buy you? Ten? Twenty? Your dad always says no," Christi outlined the worried girl's breasts with soft kisses.
"But I want him to say yes," Kathy sighed. "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!" She stroked a curl in Christi's long brown hair. She knew her friend was trying to make her feel better, but the letter had set off a million emotions.
She'd dreamed about Michael Barnes every night, even though, until now, she hadn't even known his first name. It was always the same: she was chained to a bed and covered with drops of hot red wax that slowly melted into her flesh. She could feel every molten invasion and the heavenly fire inside as he thrust into her loins. Then, his gentle hands would tighten slowly around her neck and she would ride spasms of airless terror towards ecstasy and oblivion.
But, now, there was a letter to prove that it was more than a love-struck school girl's fantasy. He wanted to possess and enslave her completely; just as Daddy had enslaved Mommy when he brought her home from the convent.
Christi kissed Kathy tenderly and raised her head so she could place the nylon noose around her neck. "I know what you need, Kathy, I'm not going to lose you to him."
"You won't lose me," Kathy pulled Christi close. "I won't let him buy me unless he buys you, too," she pledged. "I'll write and tell him that we're a package deal, double or nothing."
"But, what if he doesn't want me?" Christi whispered. She lost her grip on the noose and began to sob.
Kathy held her tight. She had never seen her bold friend frightened before, but now she was as timid as a mouse.
"Then he'll have to buy you for me or he can't have me at all. I promise.
"Anyway, I know Daddy won't even consider selling me until after we graduate, so there's plenty of time to make everything okay," Kathy comforted. The two girls lay with hair entangled and quietly gazed into each other's eyes as the late afternoon sun shot long golden beams through the window of Christi's room.
There was a knock at the door. "Oh, I thought I heard voices," a stunning, more mature vision of Christi came into the room. "You must be Kathy. You're all Christi can talk about. I'm Carol, I'm so glad to finally meet you."
"Hi," Kathy said shyly. Her face was still buried in Christi's curls.
Both girls sat up. "Mom," Christi motioned for her mother to sit down, "it's about time you got acquainted with your new daughter-in-law."
"Oh," Carol laughed. "You have to forgive her, Kathy, she does carry on." She smiled and tickled the tip of her daughter's nose. "Young love is so grand."
"Why don't you join us, Mom?" Christi drew her mother toward her.
"I'd love to, Honey, but I can't. I've got to work tonight," Carol kissed both girls and excused herself.
"What does your mom, I mean Carol, do?" Kathy asked.
"She's the featured lap dancer at Ferrell's Family Diner."
"Really? We eat there all the time," Kathy exclaimed. "I thought she looked familiar. I didn't recognize her with her clothes on."
"Most people don't," Christi hopped out of bed and pulled up her nylons. "I think being a lap dancer is really cool, but Mom says she'll do anything as long as it pays the bills and makes her cum."
Kathy rose and embraced her beloved. Her fingers traced the long red welts on Christi's back and felt her shudder with each delicious memory of the previous night's sweet agony.
If only Michael could be here the triad would be complete, she thought as they watched the sun's last rays vanish in the west. | 5 |
4,429 | Anthrax (forced masturbation, spy thriller) | "You sent for me, Your Excellency?" The scientist tried to still his thundering heart as he stood before the vicious dictator, whose famous chromed pistol gleamed menacingly in its holster.
The moustachioed figure, smiling benignly but with a hint of underlying menace, waved airily to a seat before the altar-like desk.
"How is the research going?" he asked mildly when the scientist was perched uncomfortably on the edge of the chair.
"Fine," said Rais, "We have eliminated most of the problems and the new, er, weapon is almost ready for use."
"Almost?" The raised eyebrows conveyed a world of horrific terror.
The scientist gulped audibly.
"The biological weapon itself surpasses our expectations. But we do have a problem with the delivery system."
The eyebrows knitted.
"The delivery system? Do we not have Al-Abeid?"
The scientist was suddenly chillingly aware that he had become one of the few confidants of the existence of the Qa'ala, the fortress in the heart of the hills of Jebal Hamreen above Kifri. The fortress that contained two of the most powerful guns ever to be assembled called the Al-Abeid, the believers. Designed by the legendary Canadian, Gerry Bull, they were each capable of hurling a missile into low space, despite the frantic denials of the CIA and Mossad. Now he officially knew and so he had become inextricably linked to the success of the project. If it failed then he could expect the cold summons from Omar Khatib, the President's much feared Secret Police Chief. It, like many such trips undertaken before by his unfortunate countrymen, would consist of a one-way trip to Abu Ghraib, the prison run by the feared AMAM secret Police.
A humble but brilliant scientist, like many of his fellow countrymen, he had been developing a new biological weapon so terrifying that he himself woke at night in cold sweats thinking about it. But one that required careful handling. Very careful handling. And this was what was causing him his most concern. If it were not handled right then it could erupt prematurely with catastrophic consequences.
Now he struggled to explain, rationally, his problems to someone who only cared about results. He took a deep breath.
"When I say the delivery system, I mean the method of transporting the agent from our laboratories out into the field where it is to be used. It requires very careful, and specific handling, or it may cause us serious problems."
"What sort of handling?"
"For a start it must be kept at body temperature. It must be constantly shaken and every two hours it must be kneaded, like bread, or its consistency will thicken. And with the rise in viscosity will come a corresponding rise in possible explosive failure."
"You are working on this problem?"
"Of course," said Rais. "We have identified a possible method of transportation. But....." He tailed off lamely. Even he couldn't imagine the President would stoop that low.
"But what?" The President was obviously becoming irritated, which didn't bode well for the immediate future.
"The only reliable method of transportation that we have identified is, er, inside the vagina of a woman."
There, he'd said it. Now he must live with the consequences. The dictator regarded him with dark, staring eyes.
"And you are sure this will work?"
"Oh yes," said Rais. "Our tests have proved it."
"Then I see no problem."
"But what about the ...er.. host?"
"Ask Omar Khatib. He will have a suitable candidate." He paused, then his face lit up in a rare show of genuine happiness. "Wait, didn't we arrest that American spy last week?"
"American spy?" said the puzzled scientist.
"The so-called reporter. Snooping around one of my palaces. I think we have found our candidate. I will tell Omar Khatib to make the preparation. You, meanwhile, will ensure that the weapon is ready on time. Do you understand?"
The scientist nodded frantically. He understood all right. It would be ready, come what may.
Keri-May Wilkins fretted in her cold, dank cell, cursing her bad luck and worrying about the future in equal measure.
The newest reporter on the Middle East circuit and also one of the brightest, she had graduated summa cum laude in modern languages from a prestigious East Coast university. Her proficiency in Arabic, and particularly the dialect of the Marsh Arabs in the south of Iraq, had brought her to the attention of a fast-rising media baron who could see that Iraq would again become an explosive flashpoint in the powder keg of the Middle East. And who wanted, lusted after, a serious presence on the ground there. So Keri-May found herself working out of the bureau's Riyadh office, chafing amongst the paper clips as the men dashed off on glamorous assignments.
For her, unlike many other women, her looks were a positive hindrance. A natural blonde, with a firm, athletic body and an almost angelic face, she had often got mistaken for one of the corporate "bimbos" who dropped their panties at the slightest chance of appearing in front of a camera. She called them 'News Screws', which earned her their undying enmity. She shrugged it off, her dynamism being focused elsewhere.
So when she heard a couple of Iraqi refugees talking in the local souk oblivious to the fact that she may actually understand their language, she decided to approach her bureau chief, with a view to being sent on a special assignment into the heart of Iraq. To find the place where the chemical weapons were being stored, away from the prying eyes of the UN Weapons Inspectors.
"It's too dangerous," was his, not entirely unexpected, reply.
"But Wally, this could give us the break we need. We could show those CNN guys that we mean business."
He considered it for a moment, fingers steepled in front of his lips. "Okay, I'll send Greg Hoskins."
"Greg Hoskins! Why? It's my story."
"I told you it's too dangerous for you."
"Because I'm a woman, right? That's bullshit, Wally, and you know it. It's my story and I want to cover it."
The bureau chief looked across at her. Her eyes glinted with the ferocity of a cornered feral cat. She had the determination, that was for sure.
"It's not that. Well, not entirely. It's just that I can't cover you when you're there. Greg looks like an Arab for Chrissakes, which you obviously don't."
"Look, Wally, the best camouflage is to be out in the open. They'd hardly expect a blonde blue-eyed spy now would they? Anyway, women have more methods of escaping detection than men have."
"How so?"
"Well, we can wear the Chador for a start, that covers us from head to toe so no-one can see us. Furthermore, everyone takes it for granted. And my Arabic is perfect, as you well know. Finally, I can get more information out of a man within an hour than Greg Hoskins could in a lifetime."
Wally had to concede that point. She was extraordinarily adept at extracting information from the most intractable source. Perhaps it was her "bimbo" looks that disarmed them. That, plus a first-class brain. He mulled it over in his mind, then tried one last time to dissuade her.
"Look, Keri-May, I understand how you feel, but this sort of assignment is dangerous. I can't give you any support, except from casuals in country and the Lord knows how reliable they'd be in a crisis.The State Department would deny all knowledge of it. You'd be on your own, in a hostile country where they'd all get a pat on the back and extra rations for their kids for turning in an American spy. I wouldn't like to send an experienced reporter into that lot, never mind someone who has only recently joined. It's too risky, surely you can see that?
"Oh, come on, Wally. Stop treating me like a child, I knew what I was getting into when I came here. You get me good ID and I'll be fine."
Slowly, over the course of the next hour, she wore him down, the possibility of a Pulitzer finally winning him over.
The amazing thing was that she had found the dump within a week of being there. She wasn't averse to a roll in the hay to further her career, which, coupled with the fact that the officer from Tikrit was absolutely smitten with her, gave her the lead she needed. Her problems started when she was caught trying to take photographs of the compound in which they were stored.
The soldiers had been rough but not brutal, and she hadn't, to her great surprise and relief, been sexually assaulted apart from the occasional fondled breast and pat on the rear, of which she'd endured far worse in her office. Reporting sure dulled the threshold level on her reaction to physical abuse, she surmised.
The worst part was the mind-numbing boredom of the prison. For someone of her intellect, it was the worst form of cruelty, being taken away from all forms of intellectual stimuli and forced to exist in a cold, heartless cell, with just the murmurs and occasional screams of the other prisoners for company.
And so it was with a curious mixture of longing and dread that she heard the key turning in the lock of her cell door. The guard was new and dressed in a uniform she hadn't seen before.
"Yallah!" he shouted and jerked his thumb along the corridor.
"What's the rush?" she replied in perfect Arabic.
He smiled, revealing a mess of Qat-stained teeth. "A clever spy, heh? But you got caught, so maybe you're not so clever. Now, come on, the director is waiting."
He hustled her along the corridor, past the bleak row of identical steel doors behind which terrified citizens huddled in dread. Instead of going down to the interrogation rooms that she knew so well, they ascended to the first floor. The guard paused at a plain steel door and tapped respectfully. He then ushered her inside.
The laboratory was unexpected in its cleanliness. She looked around at the array of stainless steel instruments in cabinets around the wall, then her attention was drawn to the chair in the center of the room. It looked like the gynecological chair she'd had to endure when she thought she'd picked up a dose of something nasty at college. But this one had straps hung around it menacingly, and suddenly she was afraid.
The scientist darted towards her. "Excellent," he said. "Hook her up so I may get to work."
Keri-May was unceremoniously stripped by two matrons, who employed an economy of effort that bespoke long practice. When she was naked, she was hustled over to the chair, blushingly conscious of the lustful grins of the prison guards that stood in the room.
Once she was strapped into place, the scientist approached. He looked sadly at her, his inner self obviously at odds with what he was being forced to do.
"I must insert something into you," he told her, almost apologetically. "Please keep still, I will try not to hurt you."
"Please," she wailed, as he picked up a long, thick rubber canister from which wires protruded ominously. "Please don't. Why are you doing this?"
He shrugged. "I'm sorry, it is most unfortunate, but I must obey my orders. I hope you understand."
He then proceeded to lubricate the canister with a thick layer of what looked like KY jelly. Keri-May watched in fascinated terror as he approached her wide-open pussy. He paused for a second, then proceeded to push it slowly into her.
She wriggled unconsciously as she felt the canister slide into her. To her surprise, it was warm, and if she had closed her eyes, she could have imagined it as being the penis of one of her lovers sliding pleasantly into her inner self. She groaned slightly, despite her best efforts at self-control, as the 'thing' slid further in, and the guards chuckled. The scientist stopped and admonished them, then continued to force it into her until it was completely buried inside. He then took a small tool and applied it to a hidden screw-head at the base of the unit. A single twist, and she felt the top of the device balloon outwards until it was jammed immovably inside her. The scientist tried tugging it gently and, satisfied that it couldn't be removed without the aid of the tool, he stood back and wiped his hands.
Keri-May continued to wriggle at the unwelcome intrusion. It wasn't that it was painful, but it was so embarrassingly intrusive that it humiliated her. It was pushed so deep that she could barely feel it in a sexual way, but the dangling wires, akin to the strings on a tampon, reminded her and her watchers of its presence within her.
"What is it? Please tell me," she pleaded.
"It is... ah... a poison capsule," he replied, simply.
"Poison?" Now the tears started to pool in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"Hush, dear," he said mildly. "And listen. I have placed the container inside you so it can be used to transport a certain, how shall I put it, er, weapon to the front line. This weapon requires special handling, which you have been chosen to administer. There are no choices in this. You have no choice, and neither do I. Do you understand me?"
She nodded. She thought she understood, but was unprepared for what followed.
"In order to ensure that the agent remains in a usable condition, you must knead the vessel every couple of hours or so. There is a sensor fitted inside the vessel which will sound when the treatment is required, so you will be warned. The kneading must be rigorous and thorough, which can only be achieved, our tests have concluded, by you having a rigorous orgasm."
"What?" she exclaimed tearfully.
"I thought I had explained it adequately." He continued patiently. "You must induce an orgasm every two hours or so, or I cannot be held responsible for the consequences."
"Every two hours, but what about my sleep?"
"Your guards have been trained to, as you Americans so aptly put it, 'bring you off' whenever they hear the warning."
"But what if I don't want to? Or I can't?"
"Oh, but you must. I must stress the danger you are in if you don't. The vessel may rupture, and you will die. It will not be a pleasant death. Do you understand?"
She closed her eyes, trying to will away the horror, and her body involuntarily tried to force the container out from her, but it was held firmly in place, and her efforts barely shifted it.
He studied her for a second, then continued. "I will help you."
With that, he turned and picked up a hypodermic from an instrument tray, then proceeded to draw a colorless liquid into it from a small bottle.
She flinched as he approached with it.
"Relax, my dear. This will help you. It is a powerful aphrodisiac that will induce a prodigiously enhanced sense of sexual excitement in you. It will help you to fulfill your task."
She cried as the liquid was forced into her arm.
He dabbed the needle mark carefully and looked down on her. "May the blessings of Allah go with you, and may his benevolence guide you in your forthcoming trial." With that, he turned on his heel and walked out, followed by the matrons, leaving her alone with the two grinning guards.
"It is time to see if the drug is working, Ali," laughed one of them as he approached her helplessly bound body, his finger flexing theatrically.
Avi Mehandin leaned forward in the rickety chair as his case officer explained the problem to him. Lean and rangy, he looked like a typical street Arab that is likely to be found idling slowly through any Middle Eastern town, which suited him and his bosses perfectly.
He was one of Mossad's deep cover assets in Iraq and had been instrumental in providing much of the information regarding Saddam's intentions towards the West and Israel in particular. The case officer had met him, at great personal risk to both men, at a small coffee shop the Agency owned in a village close to the Jordanian border. Now they sat, two itinerant Arabs, sipping their mint tea and resting away from the sunshine, a scene repeated countless times across the area and unlikely to arouse suspicion.
"We know that he has developed something new, which he is intending to target on us. What it is, we are not so sure about, but, put it this way, I've moved my family from Tel Aviv. We also know that he has some new type of delivery system. We know it's not the Scuds. We know where they are, and we also know that most of them are out of commission. For a while, we thought he might have bought some Nadong Missiles from North Korea, but we can't find any evidence of them being trans-shipped. Which leads us with one alternative, and that is a super gun of some kind. Now, we heard, from one of our agents in England, that an engineering company there had been receiving orders for, what could only be, gun barrels. We, together with MI5, allowed them to be shipped, and we followed closely. Unfortunately, we lost track of them when one of our agents was compromised in the docks. So where they've gone is anybody's guess. That was three months ago, since then we've heard nothing. Then we heard of an avalanche in the Jebal Hamreen hills, which killed a group of construction workers. Not one of them escaped. That sounded extremely convenient to us, so we suspect that that is where the guns have been assembled, and he's covering his tracks.We managed to get some satellite time from the Americans, but we've found nothing of substance. That's where you come in. We want you to find them and call up an air strike to take them out.
The case officer leaned forward and continued, "I need not stress to you the urgency of this mission."
Avi lowered his hawk-like eyes to hide his intense anger at this new threat to the peace and security of his homeland.
"Give me the means, and I will do the job," he said simply.
Keri-May's fingers diddled her clitoris frantically as she tried to coax an unwanted, but crucial orgasm from her unwilling body. It had been twelve hours since she had been given the injection, and it still hadn't kicked in like the doctor had promised.
As she twirled her fingers and mauled her breasts, she was aware of the strident screeching that came from her crotch, signaling that she must massage the container as if her life depended on it, which it patently did.
Just as she started to climb her heights, the door flew open, and two of the guards stepped into the room, followed by an unknown officer, whose lip curled in disdain at her lewd display. Her hands automatically stopped and went to cover her crotch and breasts protectively.
They were all frozen in a silent tableau, while the screaming from her crotch continued unabated.
"You must fuck yourself, American whore. Or we'll do it for you," sneered one of the guards, as the officer continued to stare at her.
Lost in a haze of humiliation, her fingers again started their work, while the officer calmly pulled out a cigarette. Perched comfortably on the rickety table, he watched as she forced herself towards her humiliating orgasm. She closed her eyes to shut out the scene, but the ribald comments and the slow, forceful exhalations from the officer intruded on her senses. It was the hardest cum of her life to achieve, as her body fought against her instincts. But eventually, and to her great relief, she exploded into a welter of whimpering, sweating convulsions as the eagerly sought orgasm raced through her.
After she had subsided, she opened her eyes to find the men watching her in amused contempt. She wished she could have crawled into a hole and died.
"Get her up," snapped the Officer. "Dress her and bring her to the truck."
He then turned on his heel and walked out.
They put her in a simple dress that barely covered her crotch. It was grey and shapeless through uncounted washings and did little to assist in protecting her modesty. Its main benefit, from her captors' point of view, was that it allowed unhindered access to her pussy. Which meant that they could force her into having orgasms whether she co-operated or not. The word had gone round: their continued well-being and that of most of the people in the country depended on her achieving her cums. And they weren't going to let a little thing like her willing participation stand in the way of their personal safety.
Just before she was taken from the cell, one of the guards injected her again.
"It is the catalyst for the previous injection," he said to her unspoken query. "The scientist said you would understand what that means."
She understood all right. The almost immediate tingling in her crotch signaled the start of a new life - as a cum-crazed slut.
Avi slipped back into Baghdad later that evening. Leaving his Land Cruiser out in the desert, he took an ordinary bus back to the city, so as to not arouse suspicion.
His first call was on a technician he had compromised earlier in the year. He knew that his visit could possibly destroy the asset, but time was not on his side. It threw up an interesting fact.
He followed up on it, which led him in turn to a certain Colonel Rashid of the Imperial Guards. He had left town over six months ago, and no one had known where he had gone. But, suddenly he had re-appeared. A loquacious soldier had furnished the further fact that he was leaving again tonight.
Avi waited on the Old Damascus road for the Colonel to appear. It was nearly dusk as he saw the small convoy approaching. He squatted down in the dust and waited for them to go by.
He had been in this game a long time, and he thought nothing could surprise him. But the glimpse of a semi-naked blond girl chained up and fondled by a group of laughing soldiers widened his eyes a little. His first thought was that she formed part of the Rest and Recreation package that Saddam had put together for his lonely troops. But if they were that lonely, why weren't they giving it to her there and then, instead of just playing with her?
He waited for an hour, then started up his Land Cruiser and went to follow.
The journey itself, along a road pitted with potholes, was bad enough, but the almost continuous fondling nearly drove her out of her mind. They had chained her standing, with her legs spread and her hands tied above her in the bouncing truck. Then they took turns fondling her in every way imaginable, while she stood there in lustful shame.
She knew she couldn't do anything about her hyper-aroused state, but it still shamed her nevertheless, as they forced yet another writhing orgasm from her. Worse, they had taken bets on who could make her come the quickest, and so she had to not just endure the fondling, but also the shouts and coarse laughter as they worked her body with abandon.
As the journey ground on, the soldiers seemed to start to lose interest in her, and, as dusk fell, they rolled themselves in blankets between the ammunition cases and fell asleep. At first, she was pleased with a cessation of the continuous mauling, but then, with mounting horror, she started to feel her crotch get tingly again. She endured for two hours, willing herself to ignore the urgency of her crotch, but then the alarm went off, and she realized the predicament she was in. She had to cum, her life depended on it, but how?
She started to call softly, but they ignored her. She tried calling louder, but still they snored on.
Eventually, the alarm itself provided the answer. Its raucous screech awoke one of the men who, grumbling sleepily, reached up and unlocked the handcuff that was holding one of her arms high. He then settled down to sleep again.
At first, she was dazed, then it slowly dawned on her what she was expected to do.
They weren't going to masturbate her. She was expected to do it herself.
With a moan, she reached down towards her tortured crotch.
This was going to be a long night.
Avi nearly stumbled upon the convoy as he followed cautiously behind. They had ascended into a range of foothills, where the track was rocky and barely discernible. He had breasted a rise to see the campfires of the troops twinkling in the distance.
He found a convenient gully and hid the Land Cruiser as best he could. Removing his Uzi, he started to make his way towards the campfires on foot.
The men in the truck awoke to the delicious sight of a beautiful and half-naked young woman masturbating herself furiously. Her hand kept up a steady pumping motion as her fingers massaged and stroked. Each of them had dreamed about a girl like this. And now she was here, making herself cum in front of their eyes. It was better than any floor show they had ever heard about, because here, they knew she wasn't faking.
She came, bucking her hips wildly and oblivious to their presence, just as the trucks pulled up. They drew themselves away from the girl, who hung limply in her bonds.
All night long, she had been forced to masturbate herself. For every two hours, she had been awakened and had had to do it again. Eventually, she was so tired, as the result of her mistreatment and the number of good cums she'd had, she started doing it in her sleep. She stood there, straddled, her head lolling on her chest as her fingers played lazily with her clitoris. Her cums were muted, but strong enough to achieve the desired effect.
It was dawn by the time they eventually took her down from the truck. She didn't know which had disorientated her more, the use of her limbs again or the fact that she had been forced to remove her hand from her crotch. Finally, she stood before them. The officer came up beside her and turned to address the men.
"I cannot stress how important this package is. I do not want it to be damaged. Therefore, you will not fuck this girl in any way, including oral sex, at least until the package has been safely delivered. At which point her usefulness in her present capacity is over, and she could be made available for more general duties. I hope I am making myself clear?"
He was.
He nodded. "Good. Now, I don't want the column held up because of having to service some whore, and so our scientists have come up with an ingenious solution."
He held up a high-tech chastity belt. The men cheered as he fitted it over her and connected the wires to the unit inside. He then picked up a large battery pack and solar charger unit and slung it over her shoulders like a rucksack. Finally, he pulled her arms back and tied them together behind the batteries. He then flicked a switch.
"Right, men, we have a long way to go before nightfall, let's move out."
They left the temporary camp and struck off into the hills. Keri-May stumbled miserably along behind them, a young goat herd teasing her naked thighs with a switch.
That was hours ago. Since then, the climb had been a nightmare for her. The batteries were heavy, the trail was steep and rocky, and the chastity belt kept molesting her. Now, instead of the raucous scream, it merely set off a vibration unit which hummed and rubbed between her legs.Such was its power and movement that it had her cumming within a minute or so of being activated.
She remembered the first time with shame.
The goatboy had tucked the back of her dress under the rucksack and was urging her on with the occasional stinging stripe across her bare bottom. The combination of his casualness and her nakedness hurt her worse than the bites, but they achieved their purpose as she stumbled on blindly. Then, just when she thought things couldn't get worse, she felt the unit kick into life, and immediately she started to get hot and tingly down there. Her steps faltered as her climax started to grow, and the boy was forced to lay into her naked and defenseless bottom hard in order to get her to move at all.
Finally, she was walking bow-legged, wishing desperately that she had the use of her hands to help her orgasm along. When it hit, she stopped walking, and no amount of thrashing could make her move again, as her climax soared. The combination of the searing stripes and the firm, purposeful vibrations caused her to climb higher than she had ever done in her life.
And so it was that she had the most explosive orgasm of her entire life whilst bent over with her legs apart, with a goatherd swiping her butt and a vibrator massaging her clit vigorously. Some of the soldiers came back to see what the hold-up was and were fascinated as she flew like an eagle. Her screams of pleasure bouncing around the narrow gorge then echoing back to torment her, with her lewd, abandoned display of hedonistic pleasure.
When the orgasm finally hit, in full force, she stretched her neck back and howled like a beaten dog. She stiffened her whole body, and her crotch rotated in small bucking circles as if she was entertaining a real lover between her athletic legs.
When it was over, she slumped, and it was only the prompt action of one of the guards catching her arms that prevented her from falling over. It was as if the orgasm itself had been her only means of support, and now that it was over, she was bereft of enough power to maintain her posture.
"What's happening?" the officer said angrily as he strode back.
"She was having an orgasm, Sir."
The Officer looked at her, wild-eyed and rubber-legged, then smirked slightly. He was going to enjoy handing her over to the men. But now they must move on.
"Get the whore moving," he ordered and, turning on his heel, he marched away.
It took nearly a minute of frantic thrashing before she could move again.
And in a little under two hours, it was going to happen again.
Avi had watched the display with amazement. He thought he'd seen everything that life had to offer, but the sight of a half-naked beauty having an earth-shattering orgasm on a rocky hillside arrested him in his tracks.
"What on earth was going on here?" he asked himself.
He crouched, waiting, until she had recovered enough of her composure to shamble off again.
He then followed, discreetly at a distance. It was indeed fortunate that the Iraqis were so lax when it came to military discipline. This was far easier than the Be'qaa valley.
Eventually, they had to assign two guards to her to help her on her way. The repeated orgasms had a cumulative effect on her bone-tired body, and she was barely able to walk at all.
So the guards held her arms and hustled her forward. It was then that she learned about having orgasms on the march as they wouldn't let her stop to savor the ecstasy, but instead kept her moving forward while her head lolled drunkenly and her crotch exploded.
Keri-May lay half-comatose on the floor of the small cinderblock storage shed. The enforced march and her numbing orgasms had sapped her very will, and she ended up drifting in and out of consciousness like a wraith.
But despite her privations and the terrible drain on her inner resources, her body still felt tingly and alive, especially in the junction between her legs.
They had arrived just before dusk after enduring the searing heat blasting off the rocks as they climbed deeper into the pitiless mountains, through countless narrow gorges. She'd been fed, barely, on a few scraps and had been thrust into the storage shed with only an earthenware pitcher of water for company. It was sheer laziness, she surmised, that stopped them from removing the vibrator from her crotch. It was just as well, as she couldn't summon up the energy to masturbate herself enough for the sort of orgasm that would keep the poison alive inside her body.
It took all of her remaining resources to lie there and immerse herself in her cums. In that, she had no choice, as her body and the capsule both demanded that she fulfilled herself repeatedly.
Her boredom had vanished, and in its place was an overwhelming lethargy that bordered on unconsciousness.
Gone was the bright, articulate reporter, and in her place, there was a sexually frustrated bimbo who appeared to be kept alive purely by the longing for yet another cum.
She whimpered in lust and hopeless humiliation as the vibrator set to work again, deep down in the confluence of her legs.
Avi crouched in the lee of two large rocks as he adjusted the collapsible satellite antennae. He had pulled a sand-colored net over his upper body to help provide him with camouflage and to nullify any glints of reflected light that may come from his equipment.
Finally, he was ready.
"Dove calling Mount. Are you receiving me? Over."
A slight hiss as the squelch kicked in was followed by, "Mount receiving you, over."
"Co-ordinates follow." He then proceeded to read out the map references of the site.
The base followed through by reading them back, which he acknowledged, then dismantled his set.
He'd already set his laser guides, so now all he could do was wait.
The bombers streaked in just before dawn, jinking and weaving along the steep valleys as they hove in for their attack run.
The Iraqis were taken momentarily by surprise by the scream of the jets but soon recovered and ran towards the carefully concealed AA guns. Meanwhile, the radars lit the ether up like Christmas tree lights.
Avi waited until the crump of the first descending bomb before he made his move. He was confident that the laser sources that he had laid amongst the buildings and, more importantly, the guns themselves would guide their charges to the sweet spots of destruction.
Normally, in this type of raid, he would have been long gone by the time the bombers were called in. But there was something about that girl that intrigued him, and he was determined to find out what role she had to play in the events here.
So he dashed across the ground, crouching low, as the bombs started to smash into the ground around him. The Iraqis were far too absorbed in protecting both their lives and the guns to notice his silently flitting shadow making its way towards the grey block house that held the pretty young lady captive.
Once he reached it, he smashed open the lock with the butt of his gun and crept inside. She lay huddled against the far wall, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
"Do you speak English?" he whispered.
She nodded dully.
"Good, let's get out of here then. I think the Iraqis are not going to be too pleased once they get a chance to sit down and work out what has happened and, more to the point, how."
With that, he stepped across and hauled her to her feet. She felt surprisingly heavy, and then he noticed the heavy haversack on her back. A large knife appeared in his hand like magic, and he severed the straps as she murmured, "No, no."
The wires linking the unit to her crotch still held her back, so he cut those too and then pulled her towards the door.
A quick glance outside confirmed that no one was taking any notice of the blockhouse as they dashed around the encampment, their figures silhouetted by the flames.
He pulled the stumbling girl after him as he made his way out of the camp as fast as he could. He didn't want to be around once this raid was over.
She whimpered as she forced her leaden legs to move.
And her crotch tingled.
An hour later, they found themselves in a narrow ravine just below the skyline, just as the sun started to make its presence known over the horizon.
Considering her lack of energy, they were making surprisingly good time, but he still wanted to put as many miles as he could between them and the undoubtedly pursuing and vengeful Iraqis. He knew Saddam of old and didn't want to become a guest of him and his tame torturer.
He knew too much.
Suddenly, the girl stopped, and no amount of pulling would urge her to move on.
"What the hell are you doing?" he growled angrily as she reached for her crotch.
"I...ah...must cum," she whispered.
"Lady, there is a time and a place for everything, and this isn't it," he retorted.
"I must. I must," she mumbled as she started to diddle herself.
He stepped forward and tried to pull her hands away, but she fought him with a burst of frantic energy that startled him.
So, seething with anger, he let her get on with it.
An emotionless man he may have been, tough, resolute, and extremely dangerous, but he was still a man. And the sight of a beautiful woman, her body gleaming softly in the rays of the new sun, cresting the waves of an obviously powerful orgasm caused his breath to quicken as the old familiar feeling grew in his crotch.
They both squatted facing each other, he, resting with his hands tightly gripping the muzzle of his Uzi, and she, with wide-open legs and a hand delving under her short dress.After what seemed like hours but was in fact a minute or two, she threw her head back, eyes tightly closed, as she soared to the sky.
Finally, it was over, and she slumped onto her knees, her head bent in submission.
He waited until she got her breath back and then asked, "What was that all about?"
"I must orgasm every two hours," she whispered, her shame coloring her cheeks prettily.
"Why?"
So she told him.
His eyes grew hard, and his mouth tightened grimly as she finished her tale.
A quick swig at his water bottle, and they were off again.
Was it his imagination, or was that a dog pack he heard echoing down the valley?
They rested up in a small cave to escape the worst of the midday heat.
He looked tenderly down at her, like a father looking at his newborn daughter, as she dozed. She looked so innocent lying there, her features slack with overwhelming fatigue.
Suddenly, the alarm sounded, and she tried to move her hand towards her crotch. But she didn't have the strength.
Avi carefully moved her hand away and gently eased open her legs. He then started to masturbate her.
He thought he heard her whisper 'thank you' as his fingers worked, but it was so quiet that it could just have been the sound of her breathless panting as she neared her climax.
They crossed over into Jordan three days later with half the Iraqi army hard on their heels. Once safely across, Israeli agents spirited them away, and they found themselves in Jerusalem the following day.
She was whisked away to the hospital, and he was debriefed by his commander. Everywhere, there were beams and smiles and slaps on the back.
They told him that she must be airlifted out to the Centre for Contagious Diseases in Atlanta to remove the capsule, as the facilities in Israel were not up to the delicate task of both removing the tube and neutralizing the poison.
So he found himself sitting next to her on the C130 as it clawed its way into the air from Ben Gurion.
He took over her masturbation duties as they lolled in amongst the packing cases.
She smiled and willingly spread her body when the alarm went off.
In between, they chatted and touched like lovelorn teenagers.
For such a long flight, it was over surprisingly quickly for them.
The package was removed from her two days later. But they were unable to provide an antidote to the aphrodisiac.
That night, she and Avi went to a small restaurant, and afterwards, they consummated their relationship between the cool sheets of her downtown hotel.
His hard body yielded up so much pleasure that she was able to sleep soundly for the first time in weeks.
Threats to his homeland continued apace, and before long, he was discreetly advised to take over his responsibilities again. So it was a hard time for both of them when he was recalled to his homeland.
They clung together at the airport, promising to keep in touch forever. But they both knew, deep down, that it was over. The nature and uncertainty of his work was the severance inevitable.
She sat in the departure area and howled for over an hour when he had gone.
Keri-may became an instant celebrity and was soon fronting her own news show on prime-time television with a salary that exceeded her telephone number.
She was particularly popular during marathon news sessions. It was obvious to even the most jaded viewer that she was hot to trot. The flush on her cheeks, her squirming posture, her panting recitation, her glazed expression - it all added up to one hot bimbo. The viewers, especially the males, just couldn't get enough of her.
And her ratings soared.
And best of all, she was allowed to move into the marine barracks. Where morale suddenly soared.
So there is a heaven after hell, after all. | 1 |
4,438 | Flash | "Tixar, you are beginning to bore me. What useless piece of advice do you think that I need at this time?" asked a somewhat bored Emperor Ming as he watched six beautiful naked women make love to each other on carpets placed in front of his throne.
"Pray forgive your humble servant, but I bring good news. Our scientists manning the space radar have detected something that appears to be a rocket coming toward us. It's coming from the direction of Earth."
Ming slammed his hand down hard on his throne, startling the women who were otherwise occupied at the moment. Rising quickly to his feet, an evil leer filled his face as he stared down at the cowering messenger. "I knew that he would be back. It's a two-month journey to Earth, and it's been almost five months since he left my sweet prize behind as he fled to Earth. How far away is he?"
"They predict that he should land in three days."
Ming spun and walked toward the corner of the room where Dale's unconscious body still floated on a small soft cloud-like surface. Ming waded into the edge of the cloud just slightly until he was standing beside her prone body. Looking down at her, he whispered, "It won't be much longer until I can wake you with a kiss, my sweet."
He touched his long finger to his lip, then touched his finger against her lip to share his kiss. He let his finger drift down her chin, down her soft throat, and to the crest of her breast. He traced the outline of her areola through the diaphanous gown covering her body, then slowly stroked her nipple with his finger as he stared at her.
For a few minutes, there was silence in the room as everyone held their breath, fearful of being the one to break their Master's tranquility. He stood beside the real Dale, playing with her nipple, causing it to harden under the thin material as he whispered so softly to her that no one else in the room could hear him.
Just as quickly as he had started it, he finished his teasing of her body and turned around with a relaxed look on his face. Striding back toward the throne, he commanded, "Divide my Sharkmen into three groups, Tixar. You will command one of the groups. The commander that brings Flash to me gets to keep his life. The other two commanders will feel my wrath for not being the one to bring Gordon to me."
"Most honorable one. I know nothing about soldiering and am unfit to lead such fine troops on a delicate mission. May I recommend another to lead your troops in my place, who is more of a warrior than this poor servant?"
Spinning so that he stared at his cowering counselor, Ming's words locked in his fate. "It's going to take cunning to capture Gordon, and that's something that you excel in. Go inform your new troops of your honor."
Corporal Hurley was sitting on the bunk naked with one wrist handcuffed to the bunk. His face was swollen, and his jaw was bruised from Dale's kick. When he came to after being knocked unconscious, he had been very angry at Flash who had by then transformed back into his real body.So angry was Hurley that the doctor urged Flash to restrain the grumpy cook. Hurley resisted the handcuffs, but the cook wasn't any match for Flash's just as strong, if not stronger, male muscles. As soon as the cook was handcuffed, he removed his clothes as a protest to his imprisonment and sat on the bunk, playing with himself.
Doctor Zarkov held his unlit pipe in his mouth and stared at the cook who was very involved in his own erection. Glancing at Flash, the doctor said, "Our new friend has the most severe case of space dementia. I've personally seen a couple of similar cases, but never one this bad. I think that his current medical condition is caused by the combination of low oxygen and freezing cold for so many hours on his ship, which could've damaged part of his brain. I noticed that for the first couple of days, he was sometimes lethargic and very uncomprehending. But I didn't pay any attention at that time because that could've been his normal personality. Then his brain got overstimulated and stuck in that oversexed position. He's got a very one-track mind right now, and all he can think about is sex."
Flash ran a large hand through his short golden hair, as if scratching his head could solve the puzzle. "So what I'm hearing you say is that we can't count on him for any help until he recovers from this...condition. Would Dale's..physical assistance help him get over it quickly? We can use all the help we can get on Mongo, and if necessary, then I would...."
Shaking his head negatively, the doctor spoke without moving his lips as he held the unlit pipe in his mouth. "We don't know much about Dementia yet. Some people, such as yourself, can handle the rigorous constraints of exploring space, while others...didn't have 'all of their oars in the water to start with'. I think that our cook had some problems which the damaged brain tissue just amplified. Giving up your virginity to him probably won't do more than just make him come after you for more loving..which is something I don't think that you'll appreciate as much as he would. I don't think that we should count on the cook as being too helpful to us on Mongo."
"When we land, we'll take him to some of the nearby caves and hide him. That way, if the Sharkmen find the rocket, they probably won't find him too."
Zarkov nodded his head in acceptance of what to do with the cook. Then he leaned back in his chair and watched as Flash checked his instrument panel, as was his custom every waking hour. Clearing his throat, the doctor asked, "And how are you doing?"
Flash shook his head negatively and smiled a 'you-wouldn't-believe-me-if-I-told-you' type of smile. "I was in euphoria when I skip-hopped into the shower. Every inch of Dale's body was tingling and feeling so good. And the warm tiny beads of stinging water only made my masturbation that much more delightful. Then when I was drying off, the impact of how I had reacted to a man's advances struck the masculine side of my mind. I told you that sometimes, I'm almost totally Dale mentally, and that's what happened to me today. When the male side..the real me..took control again, I knew that I had come close to dropping my drawers and climbing aboard that cook's very erect express train. I was about to go for a ride that I would've never forgotten and would've have to remember for the rest of my life."
"Damn it, she's supposed to have enough sense left to be able to pretend that she's really the Earth woman. You've turned her into a fucking idiot that can't even do something as simple as stick her hands up her own ass."
Moesia was sitting in a chair, looking straight ahead with a very unfocused, dazed look in her eyes. Her mouth hung partially open, as if she wanted to catch some flies. Her body was very slack in the chair and would've fallen out of the chair except for the pillows bracing her into a semi-upright position.
The doctor cowered behind his table, whimpering out excuses. "But you pushed me to hurry her. I told you that it was too strong of a dose to give her, but you demanded unreasonable shortcuts. It's all your fault that we scrambled her brains and turned her permanently into a zombie."
Tixar slapped the woman's dull-looking face, as if the slap could knock some sense back into her scrambled mind, but it did little more than relieve some of the frustration that the young Counselor was experiencing at this unexpected failure. Her head remained tilted at the unnatural angle, but there wasn't any change to her dazed expression. For all practical purposes, she was dead, except that she was still breathing.
Pushing her head back into a more normal upright position, the angry young man grimaced through clenched teeth. "My beautiful plan is blown all to hell. I was going to use Moesia's modified appearance to trick Gordon into trying to rescue Moesia because he would think that she was the real Dale Arden. If he succeeded in rescuing her and escaped with my clone, then nothing was lost. We would still have the real Arden to bait him back again. If he failed, then we would have captured him. I was going to give Ming a gift of the captured Gordon and the brainwashed Moesia. Ming would have two beautiful bimbo-brained Ardens as his playthings as well as Gordon. I would become the most powerful man on the planet..besides Ming. Now my choices are limited. Moesia's nothing but a mental rag doll."
"We can still use her to try to capture Gordon."
Spinning to face the scared doctor, the angry Counselor yelled, "If that fails, one of us is immediately dead. And it won't be me."
"I gave him a strong sedative and taped a time-delay needle to his arm. He's sleeping like a baby, so I removed the handcuffs because I couldn't strap him down and keep him handcuffed also. There's enough proxoizibide in the time-delay-injection needle to keep him asleep for a good three days. Will you be able to find Dale and get all three of us back to the ship in that time?", asked Doctor Zarkov as he sat down in the passenger seat beside Dale.
The young woman's solemn face was staring at the instrument panel as she made last-minute corrections. She answered, "The Sharkmen will be expecting us to land in the wilderness, but I'm going to fool them. I'm going to come in hard and fast so that I get by their tracking sensors, then I'm going to land at the base of the cliffs. They'll never expect us to land that close to the fortress. Ten minutes after we land, we should be in the castle and looking for Dale. I suspect that Ming will be keeping her in his Throne Room. I'll go grab her while you go to your old lab and get the Murp. We'll need that alien equipment to restore Dale and myself to normalcy. In less than four hours from landing, we should be blasting off, headed back to Earth."
The doctor pulled his pipe out of a pocket and placed it in his mouth, sucking on the unlit pipe to get some of the faint tobacco aroma into his mouth. Clenching the pipe between his teeth, he stared at the instrument panel, then muttered, "My lord, the speed indicator must be busted. We can't be going that fast."
Dale's pretty face smiled momentarily before becoming dead serious again. "No, it's right. I know that Ming's sensors can detect us way out in space and predict when we'll land. While you were examining your patient, I increased power to the rear booster, increasing our speed by a factor of four. We'll enter the planet's atmosphere in a little over an hour..seven hours ahead of schedule."
"BUT...that means that we won't have time to get rid of our excess speed, and we will come in too fast. Won't we burn up because of the heat?"
"It's going to be a little hot in here, but we'll survive it. I'm more worried about the landing than the heat. It's going to be a little rough."
"...so you see, when the Earthlings break into here to try to rescue the woman, they won't recognize that it's not the real woman. We'll have the real Arden safely hidden away and let them spend their energy trying to rescue my clone. Then we'll capture them."
A mischievous smile was on Ming's cruel face as he stared at the soulless clone of Dale Arden in the wheelchair at the base of his throne. The obviously scared doctor was holding her limp head up straight as Tixar pointed out how much the surgically modified woman resembled the unconscious real Earth woman who floated nearby on her cloud. Rubbing a long fingernail against his cheek as he compared their striking similar appearances, the evil Emperor cackled, "It's a plan good enough to warrant forgiving you for your past mistakes. You have my permission to put your..woman in my beautiful goddess's place of honor. I'm interested in seeing what you do next to capture Gordon now."
Doctor Zarkov was staring at Dale Arden's naked body. It was getting close to the time that the transformation back into Flash's male body was supposed to occur and also very close to the time that they would be entering the planet's atmosphere. Dale was naked because she was changing back into the larger male uniform so that when the transformation occurred, she would be dressed in clothes that fit the larger male body. She was doing it beside the pilot's chair because they were so close to the planet that she couldn't risk being too far away from the controls.
A small yellow light began blinking on the console. Dropping the large male trousers that she was getting ready to slip into, the naked woman slipped back into the pilot's seat. She pressed the button beneath the yellow light as she muttered, "Incoming message from one of our vessels. Who the hell knows our frequency and is far enough out in space to be within radio range of us."
"This is Radio Operator Wilson. SCRAWKKKKKK"
The loud static burst caused both occupants to flinch from the ear-bursting scratchy sound.Dale adjusted a button and the loudspeaker continued its mission. "Scrawkkkk. Repeat. This is Radio Operator Wilson broadcasting for Captain Browning to Flash Gordon. Captain Browning sends his regards and advises that he is leading a Ranger Team to Mongo to provide assistance as you battle Ming. Scrawkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Browning recommends standing by until we get within striking range in an estimated seventy-two hours. Do you hear us? Please respond."
Glancing at the instrument panel, she declared, "We're too far along on our committed path toward our target. We're minutes from entering the planet's atmosphere and can't change our trajectory in time to miss the planet."
She reached toward the panel to press the broadcast button, but an unexpected loud rumbling began vibrating throughout the small rocket, and the front window turned unexpectedly bright orange from the heat generated by the atmosphere slowing the rocket down. Sitting back down into the pilot's chair quickly and reaching for the seatbelts, she yelled at the Doctor, "Too late to do a damn thing except to try to ride it out. We're already within the edges of the atmosphere and almost out of control. Hold on because it's going to be a rough trip for the next thirty seconds until the atmosphere slows us down."
Her warning came too late because Zarkov had already bounced out of his passenger seat and was holding onto the armrest as his body bounced up and down from the turbulence. The pipe flew from his mouth as he concentrated on holding onto the securely mounted passenger seat, and he ignored the pain from his body bouncing against the floor, instrument panel, and sometimes ceiling.
Just as quickly as it started, the rumbling ceased, and the bright orange from the flames engulfing the rocket disappeared as the rocket slowed down from the pressure of the atmosphere. Zarkov fell heavily from an upside-down position over his chair and crumpled onto the floor.
Dale's body had a bright red welt across her chest from the one seatbelt that she had been able to barely secure in time. Ignoring the pain and discomfort, she grabbed the controls and began a reversing rocket action to slow the ship down to landing speed as it continued a bullet-like trajectory straight toward Mongo's planet surface. For several long seconds, she fought the controls, then she felt the slightest change as the rocket began to respond and change its direct approach to a more conventional landing approach.
She didn't take her eyes from the instrument panel as she calmly declared, "Left Rudder is stuck. Probably fused from the heat, but that can be repaired after we land. It's going to be a hard landing, but we're going to land exactly where we wanted to land. Hold on."
Zarkov's unconscious body began sliding along the floor back toward the bathroom, but she didn't have time to go help her obviously senseless friend. She held the control stick tightly and made the minor course changes as the rocket fell like a plunging rock straight toward the planet's surface. She knew that she was coming in too damned fast, but she kept putting all of her relative feeble strength and skill into adjusting the rocket's angle so that she would land like a rock skipping across water - a couple of bounces across the surface then a soft landing. She hoped!
The first bounce jarred her hands loose from the controls, and she felt tremendous pain as the single seatbelt across her chest mashed the left breast completely flat. Struggling against the pain and turbulence, she grabbed the control and held on with her limited strength as the rocket bounced again. This time the bounce wasn't as bad, but the loss of response from the controls told her that the rocket had some outside damage that must be repaired before they used it again. Four minor bounces against the planet's surface later, the rocket finally slowed to a complete stop - less than two hundred feet before it would've crashed headlong into the cliffs.
Unbuckling her seat belt, she rubbed the tender breast as she eased gingerly out of the chair. She was all right but feeling dazed from the crash. Stumbling like a drunken naked woman, she eased back toward the back of the rocket cargo hold area where Zarkov's body had drifted. As she went by the bunk, a gasping breath from the bunk reminded her of their drugged passenger.
Glancing at him, she saw that he had moved within the straps so that the upper strap was around his neck instead of his chest. Hurley's face was red, and he was staring at her as he fought the sleeping drugs in his system. She knew that he could die if that strap around his neck stopped his air supply, so she leaned over him and unbuckled the upper strap.
She never saw his fist, but she felt it as his hard hand powerfully crashed into the side of her too-close face. She fell unconscious on top of him.
The hand that he had used to hit her with now pushed against her body and pushed her dead weight off of him and onto the hard floor. Then his hand fumbled with the other straps restraining his body to the cot. Ripping himself loose, he sat up on the bunk as he undid the rest of the straps holding him. The only sounds in the cabin were from his ragged breathing as he worked to free himself and as he grunted, "Fucking bitch. You can't screw over me just because I'm a cook and you're a fucking officer and world-famous explorer. You think that I'm not good enough for you, do you? Well, I'll show you two that you can't fuck with me." | 4 |
4,448 | Snowbound | "Dr. Lombardi, it's your wife on line two, and your four-thirty appointment has been canceled. You have no more appointments scheduled for today."
"Thanks, Margaret," I said to the receptionist. Then picking up the phone, "Hey, Cath. What's up?"
"I'm in St. Louis. The airport here just closed due to the snow. My flight from L.A. made it in here, but my connecting flight is canceled. I'm stuck here, at least for tonight."
"Damn. Well, I guess it can't be helped. Anything I can do for you?"
"No, I'm staying at an airport hotel. I'll call with the number later. Karen is having some friends over for a slumber party tonight. Do you think you can manage?"
"No problem. Fifteen-year-olds are pretty self-sufficient," I said, even though being alone in a house full of giggling, teenage girls was my idea of purgatory. "That is, if you think you can trust me alone with a bunch of nubile young girls," I teased.
"Sure. You're not that much of a stud," she teased back. "You'll have to go to the grocery store. We don't have that much in the refrigerator."
"Anything else?"
"Just that I love you."
"I love you, too."
I looked out the window and realized that it was snowing steadily now. Two inches had accumulated already.
I buzzed Margaret. "What's on the docket for tomorrow?"
"The hospital called and rescheduled tomorrow's surgery for two weeks from now. They are canceling all elective surgery due to the snow. That was the only thing on your calendar."
"Have you notified the patient?"
"Yes, disappointed but understanding."
"Okay, I'm leaving early. I have to go to the grocery store. I have a house full of teenagers this weekend."
"Lucky you."
The store was mobbed. What was it about snow that made the city go wild? All the milk was gone by the time I got there, as well as most of the bread. The people had also made a good dent in the store's supply of toilet paper. I spent forty-five minutes in the check-out line, and another two inches had accumulated by the time I left the store. As I started the car, the weatherman on the radio raised the prediction from eight inches to twelve.
My cellular phone rang.
"What is it, Karen? I've already been to the store, and if I didn't buy it, I'm not going back to get it."
"No, I was just wondering if you could pick up Allison. Her parents don't want to drive her over in the snow, but you should be going right by her place."
"Where does she live?"
"112 Terrace. You should know that; you've taken her home from swimming practice lots of times."
"Oh, that Allison. Sure, I'll go right by. Any other of your friends you want me to pick up?"
"No, just Allison. Cheryl and Susan are walking over. Oh, and Mom called. She's stuck in St. Louis."
"I know, we talked too. I'll be home in ten minutes, providing Allison is ready. Bye."
"Bye."
Allison was ready, running out of the house as soon as I turned into the drive.
"Hi, Dr. Lombardi," she said as soon as the car door was closed. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem." I turned to her as I said it, and was rewarded with a wonderful smile. Allison was my favorite of Karen's friends. She was by far the prettiest, stunningly beautiful actually. Much prettier, even, than Karen, and I see Karen through a father's adoring eyes. She was bright and more mature than most fifteen-year-olds. While she had the looks to be a model, she had once told me that she wanted to be a doctor and we had a long talk about the medical profession. I remember being struck with how perceptive her questions were.
Even though Allison had been ready, my prediction was way off the mark. It took us twenty-five minutes to get home. The side streets were treacherous, and the car was sliding all over. At one point, I completely lost control and the car slid down a hill sideways. Miraculously, I didn't hit anything and we came to a stop at the bottom.
I looked over at Allison to see if she was all right, and her face was covered with a big grin and her eyes flashed with excitement. The fear that always follows a close call in a car disappeared. I laughed and apologized. Then, I put the car back into gear, and we drove the rest of the way without incident, but not without a bit more sliding.
When we got home, a disaster was in the making. Domino's would not deliver in the snow, and the girls just had to have pizza. I made the situation worse by calling Karen, "Kitten," my pet name for her, mortifying her in front of her friends. Heroically, I managed to save the day by producing the ingredients for homemade pizza from the grocery bags, and the "Kitten" incident was quickly forgotten.
Making the pizza was fun. The girls did most of the work, and I kibitzed and flirted with Karen's friends. I suppose my presence embarrassed Karen a bit because there were a few "Oh, Daddy!"s out of her, but she didn't seem to mind too much. After dinner, the girls disappeared upstairs into Karen's room, and I went into my study to read.
My reading was interrupted with the sound of a crash.The girls had been having a pillow fight, prematurely because I had always believed the slumber party pillow fight was supposed to be scheduled after lights out, and Allison had taken a tumble down some stairs. She was sitting on the landing, holding her ankle, tears in her eyes.
I delivered the usual rebukes about rough-housing to the assembled girls while I examined Allison's ankle. It didn't appear to be broken, probably just twisted, at worst a sprain. She had full range of motion in the joint, although not without pain.
I helped her to stand, and then with her left arm over my shoulders and my right around her waist, I helped her back up the stairs and into my bedroom. She was wearing some kind of perfume; it smelled pleasant. As we moved, I became aware that her left breast was pressed against my rib cage; that was pleasant as well. My hand rested on her hip, and I marveled at her slim waist and the wonderful curve of her hip.
Allison sat on the edge of the bed. I took off her shoe and sock and told her to roll up the leg of her jeans so I could put a bandage on it.
"I think they are too tight to roll up."
I looked, and noticed that they were indeed very tight. They could have been painted on. Her shapely calf was clearly displayed. "All right, then you'll have to take them off."
"Take them off? In front of you?"
"I'm a doctor. You don't have anything I haven't seen a thousand times already, and don't worry, I won't watch you undress." I went into the bathroom to find an Ace bandage. I gave her some extra time to finish taking off the jeans before emerging from the bathroom. I sat on the floor at her feet and started wrapping the ankle.
The skin of her legs was soft, like a child's. The shape of her legs, though, was that of a woman. She sat with her legs slightly spread, and I could see her white, cotton panties which covered the mound of her vulva. A few wisps of hair poked out through the elastic. I glanced up at her face, framed by disheveled, light-brown hair. Her eyes were soft with tears, and she was biting her lower lip against the pain.
I felt the blood begin to flow to my penis and the beginnings of an erection. I forced myself to focus on the medical task at hand, to be professional. It had been a long time since I was distracted by a pretty patient, not since I was a resident. Pretty women often distracted me, but not while I was treating them. What made it worse was that she was only fifteen and my daughter's best friend.
When I was done with the bandage, I went up into the attic to find the crutches I used after my last skiing accident. By the time I returned, Allison was dressed and trying to hobble about the room. I adjusted the crutches to her height, gave her a large dose of ibuprofen for the pain, and told her to keep weight off of the ankle and to let me know if it started to swell. I got a kiss on the cheek for a reward.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. The snow kept falling; the predictions had been upped again to eighteen inches. There was the expected giggling and slumber party noises from Karen's room and the TV room, but no one else took a header down the stairs.
I had decreed "lights out" at midnight, and no more pillow fights. The talking and giggling continued for some time after that, but I didn't really care.
Around one o'clock, I clicked off Conan O'Brien and decided to go to bed. I stopped in the living room and looked out the front window at the snow. The neighborhood was almost unrecognizable. The road had not been plowed yet and the neighbors' cars were just white humps along the side of the road.
I heard a noise on the stairs and turned. It was Allison, hopping down the stairs on her good leg, banister in one hand, crutches in the other.
"What are you doing up?" I asked.
"I came down to get a drink." She moved across the room, stood next to me, and looked out the window. She was wearing a short, white nightgown. It came down to her mid-thigh, her perfect legs extending out of the bottom. The gown was also low cut in the chest, placing her fifteen-year-old breasts on display. They were not large, but were round and firm and perfectly formed. She looked vaguely angelic in the white gown, but like an angel that was about to taste the fruit of the tree of knowledge.
"It's beautiful."
"It sure is," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her.
We stood there for a few moments, Allison looking out the window, and me looking at Allison. Then she turned, looked up at me and smiled. She then leaned over and put her arm around me and her head against my chest.
"Thanks for having us over. I'm having a lot of fun, despite the ankle."
"You're welcome. I'm always happy to have Karen's friends over." Pleasant as it was, I realized this had gone far enough. I had to stop this before I did something irretrievably stupid. "How about that drink? I think there is some juice in the fridge. We ought to save what's left of the milk for breakfast."
After getting Allison some juice and helping her back up the stairs, I went into my bedroom, stripped down to my underwear and went into the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and tried to convince myself that I was normal, that there was nothing wrong with being aroused by a beautiful, fifteen-year-old. She was a young woman, not a child. I didn't do anything to take advantage of her. This was healthy. Well, maybe not healthy, but natural. It did not make me a pedophile, or at least that is what I tried to convince myself of. The next choice would be a cold shower or masturbation. I prescribed the latter.
I was already semi-erect, and my cock sprung to full size at the first touch. As I stroked, I imagined that Allison came into the bathroom, wearing that nightgown. Wordlessly, she knelt before me, put her hands on my hips and took me into her mouth. I looked down and I saw her take all of my cock into her mouth. She looked up at me, engaging me with those piercing blue eyes. She let my cock slip out of her mouth, and grasping it around the base, ran her tongue around the head, all the while looking into my eyes. She then smiled and tilted her head to take my balls into her mouth.
I ran my finger around my balls, pretending it was her tongue. Then I resumed the stroking of my cock. In my fantasy, she continued sucking for a while, using her tongue expertly along the underside of my cock.
Not wanting this to end too quickly, I grasped her head and gently stopped her sucking. I raised her up until she was standing before me; then I leaned down and kissed her. She responded eagerly, sliding her tongue between my lips. As we kissed, I ran my hands under the nightgown and along her body. Her skin was soft, but firm. Her belly was flat, smooth and taut, baby fat gone, adult fat yet to come.
I ran my hands up and grasped her breast. I ran my fingers across the nipple, feeling it harden under my touch. Allison shuddered when I touched the nipple and broke our kiss.
"That feels wonderful, Dr. Lombardi."
"You just sucked my cock. You'd better call me Alan."
"OK, Alan."
"Allison, I'm not sure..."
"Alan?"
"Yes."
"I want you to fuck me," she said, boring a hole into my head with those blue eyes.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Alan. I want you, more than anything."
I led her into the bedroom, and lifted off her nightgown, tossing it aside. She stood before me, half girl-half woman, naked and beautiful. Her breasts, small and perfect, capped with erect nipples. Her smooth stomach. Her amazingly thin waist and the gentle curve of her hips. The wisps of hair that covered her mons.
We kissed again; this time she was aggressive, shoving her tongue deep into my mouth and scratching my chest with her nails. We fell onto the bed, the fall breaking our embrace.
I started kissing her throat, and moved down from there until I reached her breasts. I took one, then the other, into my mouth, at first sucking and then twirling my tongue around her nipple. Then I slid further down, past her navel, until I was between her legs and that sweet-sour musk filled my nostrils.
I licked, tentatively at first, up and down her labia. She was already slick. I tried a quick stab of my tongue at her clitoris. She yelped and clamped her thighs around my ears.
I looked up and she looked down. Her blue eyes, glazed over, tried in vain to lock onto mine.
"That feels wonderful, Alan. No one has ever done that to me before."
I smiled and continued my work until she was shaking, violently shoving her hips into my face.
I moved back on top of her and kissed her deeply. She broke the kiss and took my earlobe into her mouth, tugging it with her teeth.
"Fuck me, Alan. I want you inside me," she rasped into my ear.
I positioned myself at the entrance to her vagina, and slowly pushed forward, not wanting to hurt her. She was tight, tighter than any woman I had ever felt, but I entered smoothly. I wondered if she were a virgin; I could not tell. The doubt excited me more than if I knew she was.
Allison tossed her head back, eyes closed, and moaned.
I started thrusting, and she began gyrating her hips, matching my thrusts. She brought her head forward and opened her eyes. Her blue stare had a fiendish intensity as she stared deep into mine, bucking her hips all the while.
I could not hold back much longer. I closed my eyes and started thrusting violently. Our movements mismatched, I slid out of her. I fumbled to try and reinsert myself, but she was quicker.She darted down and again took my cock into her mouth. I shot my load all over the bathroom tile, but in my mind's eye, it was down Allison's throat. She swallowed it all, except for a drop of semen which ran down the side of her chin. She brought her hand to her face, cleaned the semen off her chin, and then licked her finger clean, all the while staring up at me with those eyes of hers. I cleaned up the tile and went to bed.
In the morning, the girls fixed their own breakfast; then three of the girls went sledding. Allison stayed behind because of her ankle. I headed out into the snow to shovel the driveway. It needed it, and I did not completely trust myself in the house alone with Allison. There was a lot of snow, but it was dry and light. It took me about two hours to clear the driveway and path, and by that time my lower back was stiff and burning. I really should buy a long-handled snow shovel.
Once inside, I shed my boots and coat and realized that I was soaking wet with sweat. A critical choice faced me, a shower or lunch? Hunger won out. I quickly got out of my wet clothes, changing into sweat pants and a T-shirt and headed into the kitchen to make a sandwich.
In the kitchen I dropped a knife, Allison must have heard me moaning as I tried to bend over and pick it up; the pain in my back was excruciating. She hobbled into the kitchen.
"What's the matter Dr. L?"
"Just a stiff back from shoveling."
"Would you like a massage? I give them to my Dad all the time. I'm pretty good at it."
"No, thanks. It'll be better in about an hour."
"Come on. You fixed my ankle, let me fix your back. It'll feel great."
That was what I was afraid of, but she kept pleading, and finally I relented. I had a day bed in my study that was the closest thing to a massage table in the house. Allison led the way. We must have been quite a sight with her limp and my gasps of pain with each step.
I lay face down on the day bed with my hands folded under my head. I closed my eyes and Allison climbed up and straddled me, her bottom lightly resting on mine. Allison started in on my shoulders.
"Oh, you are really tense. All knotted up. Too bad I don't have any massage oil, but I'll have to make do." She leaned forward so she could bear down harder. Her hair hung down and tickled the back of my neck, and I could feel her breath on my cheek. I could also feel a raging hard-on developing.
Gradually, she moved her ministrations lower, working my shoulder blades and down my sides.
"You are kind of sweaty."
"Sorry, it's from the shoveling. I guess I should have showered first."
"Don't worry. I don't mind. In fact, it's kind of sexy." She giggled. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have said that."
"Just massage. No comments from the peanut gallery."
I didn't know which felt better, the relief from the back pain or her hands kneading my flesh and her hot breath on the back of my neck. Also, every time she shifted her weight, her crotch rubbed back and forth across my butt. My penis screamed for relief, but it was pressed hard against my stomach and got none.
Allison got off the couch, moved behind me, and started massaging my legs. I was glad that my penis was pressed up against my stomach and not extending down into one of my pant legs for her to find.
"Roll over and I'll do your front."
That I could not do. In my loose fitting sweat pants, I would pitch a circus tent. There had been nothing overtly sexual about her massage, but my penis felt like it was at least an inch longer than it usually got.
"Thanks, Allison, but no. My back is one hundred percent better. I'll just lay here and try to nap."
"OK, Dr. L. See you later."
I managed to avoid Allison for the rest of the day. The other two girls left around three, and Allison's parents came by to pick her up around four o'clock. Before she left, she sought me out to thank me for "fixing" her ankle and having her over. I remember looking into her eyes as she thanked me and realizing that her eyes were brown. I had thought they were blue. I guess I was not that observant. It disturbed me since I had been looking at her all weekend.
At about eight o'clock on Sunday, I heard a car in the drive. I walked into the foyer and Catherine, my wife, was coming through the door.
She set her bags down, and I took her into my arms and kissed her hard.
"Well, somebody missed me," she said when we came up for air. We kissed again.
"Oh, gross! PDA," said Karen behind us. "God, my own parents slobbering over one another. You're worse than the teenagers in school."
"It's nice to see you, too, Dear," replied my wife.
"I'm going over to Cheryl's to watch a video," announced Karen.
"School night. Be back by ten," reminded Catherine.
"But, it's eight now. The video won't be over by ten."
"Ten thirty," I said.
Karen sighed, and left, kissing her mom on the cheek as she left.
"You're getting generous in your old age," joked Catherine.
"Generous? I am being completely self-serving. I just bought us another thirty minutes of being alone together."
"Oh, I see what you're up to. Poor man. Cooped up in a house filled with, how did you put it, 'nubile, young girls.' No wonder you're so eager. Let me get cleaned up. I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the bedroom in twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes later, I was lying on the bed and Catherine emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing a low-cut, white nightgown that came down to the middle of her thigh.
"Believe it or not, there is a Victoria's Secret store in the St. Louis airport."
She spun around, modeling it for me, not realizing that I had seen it just last night. It fit Catherine better, though. It was designed for a woman with larger breasts, and Cath filled it out nicely. Somehow, it did not look angelic on her; it looked damned hot.
She slid in bed next to me. As we kissed, I ran the back of my hand along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but not firm like a teenager's; it was yielding instead. She took my finger into her mouth, sucking on it and looking up into my eyes.
I then realized that those piercing, blue eyes about which I had fantasized did not belong to Allison; they belonged to my Catherine.
END | 1 |
4,469 | Passages In Time 3 1.1: The Confidence Of Lovers M/F | "And might I add," Melira said, "that you might have been a bit more considerate with your caveman antics. My poor host won't be able to walk straight for weeks."
Sarah giggled. "It wasn't my fault," she reminded. "I had no control. When I was him, all I felt was, well, desperation. You were going to get fucked, and that was all there was to it."
"Well, it hurt," Melira complained, and cringed.
Sarah giggled again. She was more comfortable now that she could see the person who was talking to her, and that had not been the case with Jober. She didn't quite understand the process by which the illusion was created, and even though at times Melira's voice, like Jober's, seemed to be coming from within, she knew that Melira, the person she could see, was the source.
Melira claimed to represent herself accurately. If so, then, apart from the addition of clothing, she bore a striking similarity to the primitive whose body she had until recently been resident in. When Sarah had pointed this out, Melira had agreed. "It's always that way. The influence we exert on those whose existences we share appears to amend them physically."
The facets of appearance which Melira had shared with her host had, Sarah now realized, been the reason why the caveman had been so attracted to that host. The woman within whom Melira had lived had not been a woman of her time. She had been taller than she should have been, more feminine, possessing the litheness of a more developed creature. The caveman had been lured and captivated by her exotic nature.
There had been other factors too, of course. The fact that she had been naked hadn't particularly hindered matters. Although even now, dressed in a figure-hugging thigh-length green velvet dress, Melira was an absolute vision.
The surroundings in which she had chosen to be an absolute vision, having declared herself bored with the tumbling timestream, were pretty impressive too. A manor house, Sarah guessed. Probably Edwardian. But the rooms were not constant, changing in layout and nature according to Melira's occasional whim.
Their current location was a reading room, with bookshelves along two walls heaving with handsomely bound tomes, and with rich oil paintings decorating the other two. A central table, at which Melira was seated, bore an impressive candelabra. "You just wouldn't know that time was passing you by, would you?" Melira joked, regally waving a hand.
"I'm so impressed," Sarah replied tartly, whilst glancing at herself in a large mirror placed strategically between two bookshelves. Even the sight of herself was, she knew, a mere representation, because her real body was in 1997, being given a pretty good shafting by one Gary Callery in the cheap rate room of a Manchester brothel. And her real body, just like Melira's, was stark naked, whereas this image of her wore a dress identical to Melira's in all design respects except colour. Sarah's version of the garment was yellow.
In all material respects, however, the image was perfect. She could sense her hands, her legs, all of her body, as though such things were real. When she pulled her hair experimentally, she felt pain.
And the fascination of the mirror lay in the fact that every gesture she made was duplicated in it.
She indulged herself, studied herself. She was, she decided, a good-looking woman. And she enjoyed that.
But the truth was, she had enjoyed being a man too. Particularly insofar as the sexual sensations were concerned. Those had been very different. Not better, but very different.
For one thing, there had been a sense of power, a power which arose primarily from being the penetrator rather than the penetrated. For another, there had been the sharp concentration of sensation, and the sheer physical relief of ejaculation, as well as the feeling of both completion and commitment that passing something of oneself into another human being created.
Now, of course, she was considering the probability that she was neither man nor woman. That she was not human. That her origins were other than terrestrial.
She vaguely understood her task at last, and some of its purpose. She even accepted that her existence as Sarah, whilst remaining valid, was subsidiary to that task. Because Melira had told her the story, and as it had been told, Sarah had started to remember.
Like all Revisians, Loranna had been captivated by the idea of the Grand Tour, which had been proposed as an experiment and an entertainment by the celebrated adventurer Kotee. Kotee had theorised and developed some time previously a way in which time travel might be possible. Loranna had never understood the physics, but in essence the traveller became unlinear. The individual existed in all times at once, effectively becoming a part of the time stream. It then took only a mental effort to isolate a moment within that time stream and to observe it.
Unlike previous time travel schemes, the Central Council had permitted the research, mainly because any traveller using the technology was trapped in a passive, observing role. Past time could not be contaminated, which had always been a primary concern, and future travel would be limited by the machinery to twenty turnings of the moon and was only to be permitted with stringent confidentiality undertakings. There had been, nonetheless, opposition, principally from those who claimed that no Revisian would ever again have privacy, that it would never again be possible to be certain that someone from the future was not watching them.
There were also limitations. The linear dissolution was a temporary status which required technical support from a stable tachyon field. For the experiment, this field was located in the laboratories of the Astro Centre, but Kotee had been unable to overcome the problem of powering the field sufficiently to permit travellers to move more than ten ruhls from the Centre and more than five turnings of the moons into either the past or the future.
Then the breakthrough came. What, Kotee wondered, would restrict him if he were to build the tachyon field into the skin of a spacecraft? The field would thus become mobile, and the distance limitation would be removed.It was an exceptional notion, and one which Kotee had always claimed to have conceived within a paradox. He had, he said, gone forward five turnings and had seen himself starting to modify the craft.
There were dangers. In particular, there was a notional long-term fallout issue. Also, as the practicality of the proposal came to be accepted, people became concerned about temptation.
It was theorized that the chance of looking far into the future might be just too tempting for Kotee and those who traveled with him to resist. A meeting of the Science Council was therefore convened, and a compromise reached. Kotee would be permitted to modify his spaceship, but would be banned from using it within the Revisian system. Kotee's honor was never in doubt, and his acceptance of the conditions ended the matter.
Revisians had long been space travelers, and had mapped over half of the galaxy. There would be much for a spaceship full of travelers to see, and Kotee had no trouble in securing recruits. Loranna, one of Kotee's students, had volunteered immediately, and the ship had launched with a total crew of twenty-five.
Once clear of the Revisian system, the time field had been engaged.
It had been a fine adventure. Because the crew were young, romance and sex had enlivened the vessel, and Loranna, despite her status as mission second, had joined in with a will.
The history and future of many worlds had been dipped into, and the Revisian crew were able to establish that many races would develop technologically in the future, that the fate of the universe was in good hands. War, whilst glimpsed, was not a common thread. At least, it wasn't until the Revisians visited Earth.
Sarah's thoughts were suddenly disturbed. The library dissolved around her, to be replaced by the now familiar twisting colors which seemed to be the way in which her eyes interpreted travel through time. The twisting, she noted, was sluggish, and she read this as an indication that a stopping point had been selected. She raised an inquiring eyebrow at Melira.
"We're going to rescue Holak," the other girl replied. "He's the next on the list."
"I wasn't aware that we were following a list," Sarah mentioned.
"Well, we aren't really," Melira conceded. "Not as such. But we have tried this before, you know. We know where some of our people are. So every time we make a new effort, we visit those places first."
"Go for the easiest ones," Sarah interpreted.
"Well, yes," Melira acknowledged. "Because in essence, the more we are, the stronger we are."
"And Holak is a simple rescue," Sarah presumed. "An easy target."
Melira chuckled. "You don't remember Holak, do you? He was always easy. No, never mind. We haven't time for that sort of smut. Yes, he is an easy target. But valuable too. He's... well, a bit unusual."
"He preferred the back way," Sarah remembered, suddenly seeing a clear picture in her mind. Blonde. Craggy face. Sharp blue eyes. Logical mind. Not much of a sense of humor. But always cooperative in the recreational sex department.
"Yes, he did prefer the back way," Melira confirmed. "And that's the problem."
"Why a problem?" Sarah wondered. "As far as I can recall, it never bothered me. As far as I can recall, it never bothered you either."
"It didn't," Melira said. "But that way won't free him. The exchange of fluids is the important thing in transference, you see. An exchange in... well, in the usual place. And the human Holak has occupied has, not surprisingly, inherited Holak's preferences. So this time, you're going to need to concentrate not only on who you want but... well, not to put too fine a point on it, where you want it."
"Just how difficult is he going to be?" Sarah asked. "From previous experience?"
"We've succeeded four out of five times," Melira advised. "Pretty good odds."
Sarah nodded, accepting that. "Clearly I'm a female this time," she stated.
Melira nodded in turn. "Sorry if it disappoints you," she said, "but yes. And we've arrived, incidentally, at the place where you put your femininity to use."
Sarah felt like she was part of a magic trick. The colors rolled away, and she found herself looking at a smoky nightclub. Not a particularly modern one, she realized, because the waiters who moved between the crowded tables wore black jackets and bow ties, and the tables were in rows, small and circular and lit by table lamps. She almost expected to see Humphrey Bogart standing by the bar.
Her fondness for the movies gave her a good steer towards the time period. The clientele of the club were predominantly male and predominantly employed in the German armed forces. The Nazi uniforms left her in no doubt of that.
To the right of the room, there was a small stage, currently occupied by two women in early middle age, dressed up like fairies and banging their bottoms together. Their movements were awkward, but were presumably intended to represent a dance to the discordant soundtrack provided by an unseen oompah band. The audience was barracking them good-naturedly. "Paris," she guessed. "1940."
Melira shook her head. "Close," she said. "But not quite. We're in Berlin, Germany. And the time is March 1938. This is a period, you may recall, that we studied extensively. Because we thought it a good grounding in human fatalism. That said, I don't know whether Holak came here by accident, or whether he steered himself here. I don't suppose it really matters."
"It isn't Casablanca after all then," Sarah announced. "I thought it was. But it's 'Cabaret.' 'I Am A Camera.' Christopher Isherwood, and all that."
Melira frowned. Clearly her knowledge of the planet's popular culture was not as extensive as her familiarity with its history. "All I know," she said, "is that it's a very important night. Your target is Gunther. A shy man generally, but we know that tonight... well, there's a good chance of making things happen. And we can't afford the time or the energy to search around for another time when Gunther finds a lady friend. We'll need all that energy later on. When we really do need to start hunting."
"Gunther it is then," Sarah said. "Hadn't I better take a look at him?"
Melira was momentarily confused. "A look?"
"Of course," Sarah replied. "If I'm going to fix my ambitions on him, wouldn't it help if I knew who he was?"
Melira smiled agreement and pointed. "Blonde guy," she said. "Captain's uniform. By the wall." Already, as well as pointing, she was moving them closer. Moments later, it was as though they were standing, invisible, by Gunther's table.
Sarah studied him, and wasn't in the least surprised to note the incredible resemblance to Holak. Neatly tended short blonde hair stood guard on a thick neck. Piercing blue eyes watched the stage, disinterested yet anxious. The man's face was chiseled, like some sixties TV action hero, but the mouth, wide and voluptuous, was out of place for that image. He was slim and fit. Not, Sarah had to admit, the sort of man that she would have gone out of her way to pull, principally because of his apparent stiffness. But attractive enough.
He was smoking a cigarette, his shirt was open at the neck, his cap was on the table before him and the debris on his table showed that he had consumed at least four glasses at least of some clear spirit. But the alcohol had not left him at ease. His left hand balled occasionally into a fist, and he was perspiring slightly. His uniform, because of his tight posture, was still crisp and uncreased.
"Serious bloke," Sarah remarked.
"He's waiting for you," Melira explained. "Well, for who you're going to be. He's not just serious. He's obsessed."
"And who," Sarah enquired, "am I going to be? One of these old bum bangers?"
"Not at all," Melira said, fighting a chuckle. "You, my girl, are going to be the famous Lucy Bennett." For a moment, she left it there, but Sarah's confused look seemed to force the further observation, "Oh, come on. You're the entertainment buff. You must have heard of Lucy Bennett."
"Remind me," Sarah suggested. They were walking now, towards the wall to the left of the stage, then, disorientatingly, they were walking through it. The bum bangers, meanwhile, were concluding their act, earning muted applause and a few catcalls.
"Lucy Bennett," Melira lectured, "was, before the outbreak of the Second World War, perhaps the most famous cabaret artiste in Berlin. New York girl. Sassy as they come. A real star. You'll love her."
"Does she take it up the ass?" Sarah said. "Because if that's going to be new for her, I'm not sure I want to bother. The first time I did it, it was bloody painful."
"No comment," Melira replied with a smirk.
"Great," Sarah sulked. By now, they were in one of the club's dressing rooms, having entered through the wall just as the bum bangers entered through the door. Bum bangers included and ghostly visitors excluded, there were six people in the room, enough to make it crowded.
Only one of those present was male, a tiny individual in his early forties with white hair, a white handlebar mustache and a white suit. He was busy fussing the new arrivals, lying to them, telling them that they'd put on a wonderful show. The other three were young women, two of them tarty blondes made up so heavily that they could have imprinted their faces on towels and wearing dresses so low-cut that their nipples were fighting to say, "Hello."
The third young woman, who was currently applying lipstick in front of a mirror, was rather more sophisticated. She was wearing a low-cut black dress, revealing fine legs disguised by sheer black stockings, a dress slit vertically but not too broadly to the breastbone, teasing with a hint of cleavage. In truth, she didn't have a lot of cleavage to reveal, because her figure was quite elfin.She was strikingly good-looking, with a tiny, angular face, a long neck, a small, red mouth, and big green eyes, lovely eyes that shone in contrast to the black of her upturned eyelashes and her short black hair. The hair was plumped up but otherwise almost as short as would be worn by a man of the time.
She took Sarah's breath away, and Melira clearly noticed this, commenting, "She's lovely, isn't she?"
"I do hope that's me," Sarah said.
"It's you," Melira confirmed.
"I can't wait," Sarah confided. "Now?"
"As good a time as any," Melira decided.
"And exactly where are you going to be," Sarah wondered, "while I'm trying to get Gunther to do things properly?"
"Watching, of course," Melira said. "But don't worry. You won't know. So you won't be embarrassed."
"I might be afterwards," Sarah supposed.
"After what you've already done to me," Melira judged, "I doubt it."
"There is that," Sarah conceded. "Well then. Here goes."
So she concentrated. And this time it was easy. The transition was simpler. The moment of shared consciousness was briefer. And then she felt herself disappearing into Lucy Bennett...
...Who was consumed by just one thought. "Hey, Arturo," she called. "Arturo, will you quit with the bumbangers and give me a minute here."
Bumbangers? Where the hell, she wondered, had that come from? Well, the where was irrelevant. Apology was the important thing, because Frieda looked just about ready to burst into tears.
"A little cruel, cherie," Arturo remarked critically. "Everyone has to earn a living, n'est-ce pas?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry," Lucy insisted. "Frieda. Eva. Really sorry. No offense. You were great, kids. Truly."
Frieda smiled uncertainly, but the crisis was past. Arturo wandered over. "What can I do for you, cherie?" he wanted to know.
"I wondered if David was here tonight," she said.
"Ah, David," Arturo replied, as loudly as he could. "You wondered if David was here." There was general laughter at Lucy's expense, and she colored. For a moment, she wanted to punch the nasty little Spaniard in the nose.
Of course, she couldn't afford to do that. If she was dismissed from her job here at the Liebehaus, then she'd only have two choices: something a lot more sleazy here in Berlin, or poverty in New York City. And she'd have to leave David behind.
"Yes, David," she grated.
"No David, I am so sorry to say," Arturo taunted. "But plenty of German boys in crisp uniforms drooling at you, Lucy dear."
"You know I hate those scum," Lucy snarled recklessly, the lost job suddenly less important.
"They are good boys," Arturo replied playfully. "Good German mothers' boys. They show you what it's all about, Lucy. Fucking German boys is good for business."
"Arturo," Lucy stated coldly, "I've told you before. I'm a dancer. And an entertainer. You want whores, you hire whores. I'll dance for the bastards, but if any of them touches me, I'll cut their balls off."
Arturo raised his hands to his mouth in mock horror. "But David, his balls are safe," he presumed, "because he's so nice and so English."
"You wouldn't understand," Lucy told him. And it was true. Arturo was such a degenerate, twisted character that love was an alien emotion for him. He slept with anyone who would have him, male or female, and was famed as the most compliant of masochists.
David Holm had no such flaws.
David was a British journalist working permanently in Berlin, a handsome man and a gentleman of the highest order. Lucy had tried to seduce him on a number of occasions without success, but she continued to hold out hope. His commitment to her was a given, though, because he escorted her to restaurants and shows on a regular basis, and telephoned to chat and flirt with her at least twice daily.
There were rumors that he might be homosexual, but Lucy discounted them. He was hers. It was simply that she had yet to find the key to open him up.
Arturo left the room, indicating his intention to introduce her. As soon as he had gone, the other girls immediately offered their sympathy. "He is just a jealous man," Eva judged. "I think he is attracted to David himself."
Lucy bent to pull on her black high-heeled shoes. "Thanks, Eva," she said. "But it's alright. Arturo's a lizard. He doesn't bother me."
"Why do you stay, Lucy?" Isobel, one of the younger girls, wondered. "I mean, we have to. There is no choice for us. But you. You can go back to America. Land of the free, eh?"
"I wish I could sometimes, Isobel," Lucy replied. "But not often. For the most part, I'm happy here."
And she was. Lucy had come to Berlin in 1933, when her father had been posted to the city by the international bank for which he worked. She was an only child, and her mother had walked out two years after her birth. Things had gone well, despite the poverty and upheaval in the city, but then, in 1937, her father had been posted again, this time to West Africa. Lucy, having many friends in Berlin, had refused to go with him. There had been a difficult argument, but Lucy's mind had not changed, and her father had left Germany all but disowning her.
Over the next six months, the friends she had so treasured had seemed to melt away, and eventually she was forced to accept that her father's money had been the primary reason for the deprived Berlin teenagers' involvement with her. And that money, of course, was not only now denied to those teenagers. It was denied to Lucy too.
She had been forced to edit her lifestyle somewhat when she realized that her personal savings were running out. The first priority had been a cheap room. Of necessity, she had moved to a poorer area of Berlin, an area which was frequented by prostitutes and which, at night, was illuminated by the bright lights of the gentlemen's clubs.
Financial difficulty had become pennilessness. And she had been left with two options: to join the girls in the streets, or to use the limited talent for singing and dancing which she had acquired as a young girl, to use it in a rather sleazy manner. This last possibility had been put to her by Eva, who had a room in the same lodging house.
The thought of becoming a whore had been unbearable. As a result, she'd allowed Eva to introduce her to Arturo.
Arturo had found the prospect of Lucy joining his "ladies" a potential moneyspinner. Her nationality, he had decided, would be a real pull. An American, bumping and grinding for Germans. It had to be a winner.
He had started her big, and public reaction had made her a roaring success. Within weeks, she was headlining the bill. To her shame, she found that she was very good indeed at what she was called upon to do.
The routines were relatively simple. Three or four crude songs, in the company of Arturo and some of the other girls, were followed by a stage dance routine during which Lucy left the others on the stage to move around amongst the audience, showing her stuff more privately. She was only too well aware that at such times she was little more than a glorified stripper. The fact that she kept her clothes on was frankly irrelevant.
So. It was time.
Trailing Isobel and the other younger blonde, Mariella, in her wake, Lucy headed for the stage. Still adjusting her costume, she moved to the wings. Arturo was ending his short and appalling comedy routine with some nasty joke about two copulating dogs.
Lucy took a deep breath. The laughter was dying. Arturo took on a mock serious demeanor.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "I bring to you now the lady who has taken Berlin by storm. I bring to you, ladies and gentlemen... Miss Lucy Bennett."
Lucy moved. She had been nervous as usual, but there was no time for nerves now.
It wasn't all bad. When she was on stage, before the floor dancing, she always enjoyed herself. Less so since the Nazis had discovered the club, but enough to keep on performing. Performing gave her a thrill. It was just as simple as that.
The first song was difficult, though, because it involved a lot of touching in personal places. Lucy touched the girls and the girls touched Lucy. Arturo touched the girls and the girls touched Arturo. Towards the conclusion, Arturo came to stand behind Lucy and reached up to squeeze her breasts. Each squeeze was accompanied by the blast of a motor horn from the orchestra pit. It was degrading. But she could live with it.
After that, the show proceeded as it always proceeded. Audience reaction was good. She immersed herself in that reaction, committed herself to performance.
It was during the third song that she noticed the German officer.
She didn't know why she found him so riveting. It was as though some relay inside her had clicked. Her reaction was a gut reaction, an uncontrollable physical response that she didn't particularly like. The odd thing was that she'd seen the man before and had never been at all stricken. But now, she noticed everything about him: his strong eyes and hard, masculine profile, his intensity, his obsessive rather than passing observation of her. She felt heat in her face and a vague stirring in her groin.
Throughout the remainder of the song, and through the one that followed, she took every opportunity that she could to glance in his direction. She hated his uniform. But she was attracted by his power, and by his naked lust for her.
There was no doubt that he had registered the return of interest, because his posture stiffened. Lucy was frightened by him, and strangely this fueled her interest.
The time of the evening arrived when she was required to leave the stage. Still drawn, she drifted in his direction, pausing to dance lackadaisically in front of a couple of customers on her way, failing even to register their faces. She stopped again at a table two to the left of his, ground her hips for a fat middle-aged lieutenant. All the while, she looked at the other man, the man who had sparked such animalistic urges in her.
As she'd hoped, he beckoned her, and she immediately went to him.Close up, he was even more attractive than she'd thought, a classic Aryan type with blonde short-cropped hair and a firm jaw.
She restarted her dance, moving in much the same way as she had done for the other men, but more slowly, more naturally. He had time for her body, observing it closely from time to time, but mainly he watched her face, those hot eyes gripping hers, compelling her to treat him differently. She knew that she was wet between her legs. And she knew that he could resolve that problem. And she was pretty sure that he would want to. Opportunity was the only missing element.
A murmur of discontent rumbled through the audience. She forced herself to move on, but she was dizzy with confusion and lust. Her body and mind had been hijacked.
Since she had first met David, he had never been quite so far from her thoughts.
She returned to the stage after about ten minutes, perspiring, still disoriented, and performed the last number. She was conscious of Arturo's amusement, and expected a rough time later. | 2 |
4,474 | FUCK DECENCY | "Oh, only my husband must do that to me," Rose wailed. But she relaxed her burning cheeks sufficiently for Kate to make headway. Kate tasted the inside of Rose's hole and stabbed at her like an Indian raping a white woman. "No, no, no, no," Rose wailed, but she only tightened her bottom a little, and Kate was able to yank her cheeks apart when she did.
In and out Kate moved her tongue. She fucked Rose's hole with her small little tongue as eagerly as John would have with his big penis. Rose sobbed in her pillow and wailed that she was no longer a virgin. Kate kept up the punishment. When she had tasted as much as she wished, she withdrew her tongue and leapt from the bed. She ran into the bathroom and opened the hot water tap and bent down and stuck her face under the warming stream to clean it.
"Mmmm, M&M's without the candy shell," Kate smiled when she returned to the bedroom. Rose sat on the bed, clutching her tear-stained pillow to her face. She sat on her bottom protectively, obviously fearing a new assault. John stood, his cock newly risen and ready for action.
"We need to put some cream on your bottom to repair the skin," Kate said to Rose.
"I know," Rose answered. "Did you cum tonguing me?"
"Not, not quite," Kate said. "I was too busy holding you open."
"I came," Rose said. "Let me tongue you to orgasm and then you can attend to my bottom."
"How can you bear to sit on it?" Kate asked.
"I don't want you to fuck it again!" Rose blurted.
"Okay, I won't, skairdy-cat," Kate replied.
"Come and lay on the bed and I'll lick you," Rose said.
Kate obliged. Rose lay on top of her and kissed her face. Then she slid down her body, slowly, kissing her risen tits and even biting them a little, so that Kate was forced to cry out. Rose licked Kate's belly button, as if to fuck it with her tongue as Kate had fucked Rose's hole. Then, sliding still lower, she put her face in Kate's nest and slowly licked her pouty sex. John, getting on the bed behind Rose, helpfully stroked himself to orgasm and spurted his healing cum all over Rose's bottom.
With a sharing of kisses and a jostling of limbs and thighs and bosoms, Kate slid out from underneath Rose. She knelt on all fours with her bottom high, in case John should find new inspiration, for she knew a slave's duty was to always present herself willing and ready before her master. Kate licked her lips to get her tongue ready. Then she bent down and began to lick up the semen that John had so generously provided upon Rose's bottom.
The sperm was salty. Kate felt funny licking another woman's fanny, but her master had chosen to deposit his sperm here, and so Kate felt it was her duty to make sure it didn't go to waste. Sperm belonged inside a girl, Kate told herself. So she laved Rose's huddling bottom with her tongue while Rose lay on her belly upon the bed, sobbing quietly into her pillow. Every touch upon her bottom hurt. Even John's sperm shooting onto her bottom had made her quiver with pain. Now Kate's tongue, trying extra hard to be very soft and gentle, sent new spasms of pain tremoring through her plump fanny.
"There, there, it's not too bad," Kate assured Rose, though she had never been whipped as soundly as she herself had just whipped Rose. Kate, with her bottom lofted high, still showing the fading marks of her less severe punishment under the tree, wondered what it was like to be so completely and thoroughly beaten. She almost wished John would pick up the riding crop and lay it on her, vigorously and without remorse, so she could know for herself what she'd done to poor Rose. And it was in thinking this that she knew that John wasn't the right man for her. Whatever his reputation with Marie, he had failed her. He'd let her become a mistress when all she wanted was to be a slave.
When her tummy was full of John's sperm, Kate got up from the bed. John had sat behind her on the bed, watching her, and she gave him a brief kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek. Precociously she gave a little tug on his cock. It was soft and flaccid. He turned his head and watched her as she leapt down from the bed and walked confidently toward the door.
"Where are you going?" John mumbled. He was satisfied and content, and he didn't bother to raise his voice for, it seemed, he thought Kate was simply taking a moment to attend to her bladder or to some feminine duty. But Kate, as soon as she was free of him, went out to the living room. She hunted for her discarded skirt and blouse among the many clothes now lying on the floor. Her blouse was under a pair of castoff panties. She got it on and then found someone's skirt, though it wasn't hers, and decided it would have to do. Someone was groping at her ankles and wanted her to lie down with him. Kate managed to free her leg and, getting on the skirt, slipped out the front door as quietly and quickly as she could.
CHAPTER: Chapter Nine
CORRECTED_TEXT:
Kate walked along the roadside, kicking pebbles and wishing someone would kidnap her. She wanted to be someone's property, wholly and completely. She didn't want to live in the real world anymore. She wanted to be a pet, and be fed and cared for and do only as her master told her.
But it had to be the right man, she told herself. And then she scolded herself for thinking such thoughts at all. What would her mother think? She hadn't served all those years on the PTA so her daughter could graduate from high school and become some man's plaything. Yet, Kate mused, turning and watching the trees by the roadside and feeling the wind rippling through her hair, she could only be happy at this point in her life if she devoted herself to a man.
Not marriage. That's not quite what she wanted. A marriage was a partnership. She wanted something... deeper. She watched the moon. It was late. There was nobody around. The road was silent. A rabbit appeared in the grass near her feet and crept out slowly toward her. She shivered from the chill in the wind, and the rabbit scurried away. A cloud passed over the moon, and she wrapped her arms around herself to try to stay warm. She wondered if she should go back to the house where the orgy was in full swing. It would be warm in the tangle of arms and legs. She had only to enter, and she would soon be amongst them. Wasn't that a kind of slavery? But John was there, and she was tired of John. And she didn't want to meet Rose again and feel responsible for what she'd done to Rose's bottom.The religious right and left-wing feminists have created an America where "sexual McCarthyism" reigns supreme. There is no "free love" in America anymore. Instead, there is Ken Starr, and Catharine MacKinnon. There are "stalkers" and "sexual harassers" and "child predators" and Bill Clinton.
There's also a lot of porn. Every time I go to Tower Books, there is more porn. Take this magazine, for instance, "Oui International". It's a new magazine. What's interesting about it is that Oui is a shit-can magazine. But apparently they're making so much money at Oui, despite publishing crap, that they've decided to start a second title!
The first thing that amazes me about this magazine is, in fact, the title. "International" was once an independent magazine, back in the 1970s. It went out of business. "Club" magazine apparently bought it, because nowadays there is a magazine titled "Club International". Despite the fact that "International" is not the best-selling of names, Oui has decided to name its new magazine "Oui International". That shows you how well porn is selling in 1990s America. The "free love" era couldn't support one magazine named "International," but Ken Starr's America can support two!
So, what do I think of this magazine? It's okay. But it's nothing special. There is no particular quality about it that makes it distinct from other second- or third-tier porno magazines. There are some pictures of naked females, and some articles. That's it. The cover girl is a girl I've already seen too many times before, in other magazines. Nonetheless, with sexual puritanism running rampant in America, I imagine this half-hearted, undistinguished porno magazine will make money.
Now, I shouldn't be too hard on this magazine. Let me point out the few instances where, in this issue at least, it has delighted my eye.
"Dove", pg. 38, is this month's centerfold. She's not much to look at, but on pages 43-44 she gives an outstanding view of her bottom! It is really quite luscious to look at. Not only does she have a perfect bottom, but she's wearing long white stockings. They end at mid-thigh, where frilled garters, tied into small bows, keep them from falling down. One is reminded of the novel The Story of O, in which it is written:
"Take off your stockings too," Anne-Marie said suddenly. "You see," she went on, "you shouldn't wear garters, you'll ruin your thighs." And with the tip of her finger she pointed to the spot just above O's knees where O rolled down her stockings around a wide elastic garter. There was in fact a faint mark on her leg. (Pg. 143)
As I'm sure you know, despite her concern for 'faint marks' made on O's legs by her stockings, Anne-Marie is the lady who subsequently makes permanent marks on O, by piercing her cunt and branding her bottom!
"Tabitha and June", page 56, is a reasonably creative pictorial of two girls making love. I've seen the white girl in this pictorial a lot already, in other magazines (or, at least, I think I have) but it was okay to see her one more time.
"Jovanna", page 5, wears some interesting clothes before popping out of them and taking a bath, in a tub cluttered with children's toys. Again, a reasonably interesting pictorial.
If you like black girls, both Jovanna and Tabitha are quite attractive! Apparently the aim of this magazine is, in fact, to broaden the racial mix of girls featured in porno magazines. That can be interpreted two ways, of course: to the traditional reader like me, non-white girls can tend to fall into the "ho hum, nothing special" category. But if you specifically are looking for non-white girls, you should be able to find quite a few of them in "Oui International". And, judging from the two black girls in this issue, you will be pleasantly surprised! | 1 |
4,499 | Mirror Images | "Sorry I'm late," I apologize. "I missed my regular bus."
"No problem," you reply as you take my coat. "I thought it might have been something like that."
You smile at me, kiss me lightly on the lips, and stroke my cheek. "You're here now - that's all that matters."
I kiss you back, more passionately this time.
"Take your clothes off," you remark as you begin to remove your own. A little surprised, but happy, I do so. Then you lead me into the living room where there is a large mirror. We stand in front of it.
"What's this?" I inquire.
"You'll see," you respond.
Before anything else can be said, you are on your knees before me, your hands on my cock and balls. Then your mouth closes over the head, and you begin to suck it.
I gasp at the sight of our mirror images - like watching another couple going through the motions - as your head bobs in and out, your lips skimming across the shaft of my cock, and it grows harder and straighter.
I pull myself out of your mouth, pull you around in front of me. We gaze at each other in the mirror - your hand gripping and pumping my cock slowly, my own hands running over your breasts, squeezing your nipples, then sliding down your belly to your pussy. Your head leans back against my chest, and we watch the reflection of my hand thrusting in and around your pubic hair, and you feel it upon your clitoris.
You watch as I slide down and situate myself beneath your legs. In the mirror, you see my tongue flicking out, finding and licking your clit. You raise your leg to get a better view, and even as you watch, you feel my hot mouth seeking your bud, sliding back and forth along your vaginal lips.
I rise, bend you over. We both look in the mirror as I slide my cock into your cunt from behind, and you feel its thickness inside you. I shove backwards and forwards, my thighs slapping wetly against yours, your breasts swaying in time to our rhythm.
I pull out of you again, turn you and raise your leg onto a chair. I move in between your legs so that you can see my cock in the mirror as it slips into that warm nesting place between your thighs, there to slide in and out once more, the head and shaft glistening with cum-dew as they appear and disappear.
I retrieve my member once more, fall to my knees and use my tongue on your most private parts, thrusting and sliding across your clit and labia, stabbing into your sex until you cry out and your body begins to shake above me. Your body jerks, and you push my head into your cunt with your hands, and I thrust and lick and suck with my tongue and mouth until you finally stop.
Now you are on your knees in front of me again, your hand wrapped tightly around my cock, pumping it with swift, smooth strokes, your tongue and teeth licking and running over the swollen head until I begin to groan aloud. Yet still you jerk my cock with your hand, watching in the mirror as my hot jism spurts onto your breasts in long thin streams, running down like rivulets to encircle your nipples. You lift one of your breasts with your hand, lick my love-juice from it; and I drop down, cover the other breast with my mouth, suck the remaining jism from its jutting teat.
You embrace me with your arms, hold me close, and I feel the fast beating of your heart within your chest. We both feel loved and wanted and needed, and I return the hug and kiss you passionately. | 1 |
4,502 | Time Out Of Time (Chapter 49) | "God, I'm tired," Christi muttered as we passed through the doors. Her whole body ached from the games.
I checked my watch. "You've only been up for six hours."
"Six hours? My God. It seems like forever."
I looked at her. "I'm still full of energy."
"You would be. You haven't been nude, chained and forced to endure abuse for six hours."
I just smiled at her and she stuck out her tongue.
"Jane?"
"Yes?" she answered cheerily. Glad to be away from the store.
"Do you know how to drive?"
"I don't have a license."
"I doubt if any cops are going to stop us. And if they do, your lack of a license will be the least of my problems. Can you drive?"
"My boyfriend let me drive his car once. But Christi drove us here. Why me?"
"Christi claims she is tired. Tired drivers cause accidents."
"And drivers without licenses don't?" she raised her eyebrows. I shook my head. Her sarcasm was going to cause her trouble in the future. I ignored it this time. To be honest, it didn't bother me a lot.
"Do you think you can drive us back to the hotel?"
"I guess. If I don't have a choice."
I considered having her drive. I didn't particularly want her without her steel bands. She still looked ravishing in those restraints. Inexperienced driver. No license. Nude. Strange car. Hands bound. Odd driving conditions. Didn't sound like a wonderful situation to me. And I wanted to get back to the hotel. Walking, though pleasant, wasn't in the plans for today. Perhaps later.
I just looked at Christi. She sighed. "OK. I'll drive." Not even bothering to suggest that I take the wheel. She managed to open the drivers door to the Toyota with her bound wrists without too much trouble. Slipping in behind the steering wheel and waiting for me and Jane.
I turned to Jane. "Wrists."
She obediently held her hands up for me. I unlocked her wrists and had her turn around. She reluctantly held her hands behind her back and I slipped the cuffs back on her. She turned around, a hurt expression on her face. The girls really did prefer their hands in front of them if they had to be bound.
"Well, if you're useless to drive, then why should I have your hands in front. This looks much prettier."
I watched as she fought back the tears. Tears brought on by her helplessness. Her complete inability to do anything about her situation. The fact that she had to stand there and allow me to bind her hands behind her. Not having any voice in the matter. She bravely fought the tears and slipped into the back seat of the car. Her eyes looking at me accusingly. She probably thought that she had earned the privilege of having her hands bound in front of her. And truthfully she had. She'd been more than cooperative today. But life isn't always fair. Especially for women under my control.
I slipped the seat belt around her waist and down between her bare breasts holding her safely into the seat. She settled back and closed her eyes.
I climbed into the passenger side and belted myself in as well. "Drive on, James ... er Jamie."
"Where to?"
"Back to the hotel. No rush." I settled back and took Jane's lead and closed my eyes.
I felt the car jostling as the naked woman guided it through the strange world back to the hotel. I opened my eyes as we arrived. Christi just parked in front, an impossibility if the world was running. Damn taxis and such getting in the way.
Christi handed me the keys to the car. I'm not really sure what she did with them last time. As she handed me the keys she spoke, "In case I'm not with you next time you need the car. I don't exactly have pockets anymore." She glanced down at her bare body.
"You have a couple of places to keep them."
"Oh God. Please no." She realized where she might have to keep the keys given that she had no clothing.
I grinned at her and gently took the keys from her fingers. I slipped the key into my own pocket and climbed out of the car as she sighed in relief. Christi managed to get her own seatbelt off, and out of the car on her own. Jane sat quietly waiting for me to come and release her, her hands tied a little more awkwardly than Christi's.
Once we all had gotten out of the car, we walked straight through the lobby of the hotel. Two bare girls and me. Just as we neared the stairs, I stopped them. I pointed back the way we came.
"See that girl behind the desk? Before we leave here, she's going to be spread out between those two pillars. Begging."
Christi just turned pale. "God. You know already that you are going to torture her. God help her."
"Yup. Nipple clamps. The crop against her back as she begs and screams. While you use that wonderful tongue of your's on her puss."
"Oh my God. Please no."
"Not now. Later."
"Is that my punishment?" referring to her bargain to get Kimberly off our timeline.
I just shook my head. "If it was your punishment, the positions would be reversed. You'd be tied to the pillars and begging as you were cropped. The redhead on her knees making love to you. I've got something better in mind for you."
"I'm sure I'll love it."
I idly wondered what the redhead's name was going to be as I watched the lithe nude bodies climbing the stairs in front of me. We entered the quiet suite. I remembered that I'd left Elizabeth and Amy sleeping peacefully in the bedroom. I poked my head in, and they were both still happily asleep. I quietly shut the door, leaving them in peace. For now.
I released Christi's hands. She stood rubbing her wrists, not having been free of the steel bands for a long time.
"Christi?" I addressed her.
"Yes sir."
"I want you to make us some lunch. Peanut butter for you and Jane. One sandwich each. Grilled cheese for myself. Two. And breakfast for Elizabeth and Amy. I'm going to wake them soon. Maybe make them some toast and cereal."
"Please. Can I ask for something. Small?" Christi looked a bit agitated.
"Yes ..."
"Peanut butter sandwiches? Please. I don't like peanut butter. Never have."
"Are you allergic to nuts?"
"No. I just can't stand the taste ... or the consistency," she explained.
"Does it matter what you like?"
"No sir," her face falling. "I'll eat the peanut butter."
The nude blonde wandered towards the kitchen. I heard her begin her preparations to prepare the food.
I guided Jane to the couch. She sat down daintily and settled back into the sofa. Legs crossed. I sat down in the easy chair facing her. She just gazed at me for a few minutes. I could tell that she was struggling with something. Wanting to talk but not knowing how to start. Perhaps afraid of starting. One advantage of having the women nude, their body language was a lot more pronounced. I doubt if they were even aware of it. But I was beginning to be able to tell their moods and sometimes even their thoughts from how they held their bodies.
She opened her mouth and closed it again. Pulled weakly at her wrists.
"Please," she began. "Can a slave beg to have her hands free."them behind her. Please.
"Jane. I like you with your hands back there."
"You don't have any idea what it's like to be in chains all the time.
Please."
"Jane. Something on your mind?"
"Oh God. Can I talk without you punishing me?"
"I'm listening. What's up?"
Tears filled her eyes and one escaped. She shook her head in
frustration. Not
being able to wipe the moisture from her face. I reached forward and
stroked
the tear from her cheek. "Jane," I started. "It's about the store
isn't it?"
I was just trying to get her talking. Normally, I wouldn't make it
this easy
on any of them. In this case, I had a funny feeling I knew what was on
her
mind and I didn't really feel like tormenting her further.
"I'm so confused," her voice low.
"'bout what?" As though I didn't know.
"You bastard. You made me beg."
"Yeah. I knew I could."
"How?"
"What?"
"How did you know? You could do that to me?" She was crying a bit now.
Still
pulling at her bound hands. Her bare feet curling and uncurling her
toes.
"Jane. It wasn't hard. In your position, you can't hide a lot. Your body
gave me all the signals."
"My body. Dammit. If you didn't keep us naked all the time ..."
"I like you naked."
"Don't I know it. And you like making us do things too. And keeping us
bound,
helpless, humiliated. Like animals."
"Hey. I treat you better than animals."
"Not much. We're just pretty, female pets to you. Look at me." That
wasn't
hard. I let my eyes run down her bare body and back up to her face. "I'm
a person over here. Hello? I'm Jane. I have a name. I'm not just an
object.
Put here for your pleasure. I have feelings. I hurt. God, how I hurt
for you.
I'm a human being. I shouldn't be treated like this."
"So you want me to treat you like a human being right?"
"Isn't that just common sense. Please. I'm not equipped to handle
this. I'm
only seventeen."
"Jane. You are a strong girl. You are holding up a hell of a lot
better than
I would in your place."
"Damn right. But do I have a choice? You'll punish me if I don't."
Her eyes widened slightly as Christi walked into the room. Jane
stopped talking
as Christi knelt down by my feet and looked up at me. I guess I could
have
forced her to continue despite Christi's presence, but decided that it
might
be better to continue the discussion in private.
"I'm done. Food is on the table," Christi spoke from the floor at my
feet.
"We're not ready for it yet."
"Oh."
"Would you like to take a shower?"
"God. Would I?" she looked up at me hopefully.
"Two showers in one day. That's pretty extravagant. But I guess you've
been
through a lot. Go shower."
She continued to kneel there. Her face a mask of concentration.
"What is it?"
She gathered up her courage. "Is your slave allowed to use hot water?"
her
eyes exceptionally expressive this time.
She must have really wanted to use hot water. Used her slave talk and
everything. Took a bit of concentration. It was unusual for Christi to
slip into the third person for me. Jane could turn it on and off at
will.
And did.
I had to bite back a smile. "I don't know. A private shower. *And* hot
water?
I'm not sure if you've done anything to deserve hot water." Previously
I'd
always forced the girls to take showers together. Two or three at a
time.
This was unusual letting her take one alone. Giving her time to
herself. She
was pushing her luck and knew it.
"Oh please. This slave begs her master. She doesn't want to use cold
water.
Please. This slave will be good for the rest of the day. She promises.
Please?"
I relented. I couldn't think of anything that she'd done lately that
required punishment. Maybe she actually would behave for the rest of the
day. I nodded at her. "Go have a hot shower."
She didn't need to be told again. She climbed to her bare feet. She
tossed
a quick whispered "Thank-you" over her shoulder as she scampered to the
bathroom. Moments later I heard the water running and her softly
singing
to herself in the shower. Some Aerosmith tune, I think. | 4 |
4,511 | Faster than Light | "You don't believe me?" Rick asked.
"Well, no. I guess not," said Brian.
"You think I'm going to lie about something like that?"
"Of course you would. Depends what's at stake, but if you had some scheme in mind, you'd say just about anything, Rick."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing."
"Rick, I've known you, what? twenty years? You'd sell your Mom to get some skirt. Remember when Judy was coming down for the weekend and you told Liz that you were going in for surgery . . ."
"All right, all right." Rick's grin confessed to the charge. "But I'm not shitting you this time. I saw Tommy boffing Cheryl."
"Cheryl Sanders?"
"One and only."
"You're a liar. What's the angle?"
"Look. Hey, Steph. Come over here."
"Rick, Brian. What's up?"
"Rick says . . ."
"Wait," Rick interrupted. "Let me remove all doubt."
"About what?" asked Stephanie.
"How long have you known Cheryl?"
"I don't know. Six years?"
"Do you think she'd cheat on Jerry?"
"Never. Not in a million years. You going after married women now, Rick?"
"Nope. Not Cheryl, anyway. Jerry's a friend of mine."
"Didn't stop you when Angie . . . ."
"All right," interrupted Rick. "I just have one question. Does Cheryl have a birthmark on her tit, right there?"
Steph slapped Rick's jutting finger away from her breast. "Well," she said.
"A lopsided heart?"
"Yeah. How did you . . . Rick, did you . . . ?" Stephanie's brow tensed angrily.
"No," Rick said emphatically. "I went back to the house to get my other pair of sunglasses."
"Time to trade the early morning pair for the mid-morning ones?" asked Brian with a smirk.
"Mark sat on the one's I was wearing while I was swimming, funny boy. Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Shut up, Brian," said Stephanie, as she sat down in the warm sand.
"Thank you," said Rick. "I went back to the house and just as I reached for the back door, I thought I heard Cheryl say, 'Fuck me, stud.'"
"Oooh," said Stephanie, leaning forward.
"I stopped dead in my tracks. There was some rustling and a faint moan. Then I thought, I just saw Jerry go with Steve and Allison up to the boardwalk. So then I'm thinking that I must have been wrong, it couldn't be Cheryl."
"But it was," said Steph, anticipating.
"I slowly got down on my hands and knees. I started to crawl toward the window. Then Cheryl shouts, 'What a hot cock!' She was really excited about it."
"I can't believe it," said Stephanie. "Cheryl? I've never heard her say anything dirty."
"I couldn't believe it either. I thought one of the guys had brought some bimbo back to the house. So I crept closer and peeked in the window."
"That is so twisted," said Brian with a smile.
"I wish I had my camera. Now, that would have been twisted. Anyway, I peek into the back bedroom and there's Tommy sitting on the bed with his trunks at his ankles and Cheryl's kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick."
"Wow," murmured Stephanie. "I wouldn't have guessed she'd do anything like that. She always blushes and runs off when we talk about stuff like that."
"Well, Cheryl may not talk the talk, but I don't think it was the first time she'd sucked dick. Very enthusiastic performance. Beautiful titties, too. Bigger than I'd noticed before, and big dark nips. And a birthmark."
"That's Cheryl," Stephanie confirmed, nodding.
"So then," Rick said in a low voice, "she pulls down the bottom of her swimsuit and wiggles her white butt while she's going down hard on Tommy's dick. I thought I'd blow a load, just watching"
"Rick," said Brian, blushing. "I don't think we need to know all the details."
"Shut up," said Stephanie. "Is he big?"
"Not bad," said Rick. "I mean, it was pretty long but slender. I'm no judge of meat, but Cheryl seemed to like it."
"Mmm," said Stephanie, licking her lips. "I wonder if . . ." Manicured nails scratched a gnawing itch under her bikini.
"Well, you'd better get a piece before Jerry finds out," said Rick. "Can you say 'justifiable homicide?'"
"You can't tell Jerry," said Stephanie, suddenly serious.
"Not me," said Rick. "But I've never seen a secret like this one kept quiet long."
"You guys tell Jerry and I'll mess you up," warned Stephanie.
"Capisch. So Cheryl's going to town and I'm thinking Tommy's going to blow but then Cheryl climbs on top of his rod and jams it into her pussy. She was so wet I could smell it."
"Wow."
"She starts riding like she was galloping to freedom. Tits bouncing, Tommy's groaning, Cheryl's just spewing obscenities; "Fuck, suck, bitch, cock, fuck, dick," and then she squeals so loud I thought the whole gang was going to come running up from the beach to save her." | 1 |
4,514 | Terry | "Hi, Terry," said the young boy nervously, "can we play some more of those games we did the other night?"
"Terry doesn't know," the teenager answered, "are you going to get all snotty this time?"
"Oh no. I'll do everything you say as long as you do the same for me afterwards."
It seemed as good a moment as any for Terry to take his shorts down, so he did, leaving his pricklet to stand flat against his belly. "Tell you what?" he said, "Why don't we start from where we left off with me sucking you and, then, when you're good and ready, you can show me how much you've learned."
With Donny's agreement, Terry got onto his knees before the boy and took his stiff willie into his mouth. It was as sweet as ever, and he sucked greedily on it.
"That's great!" said Donny almost at once. "Can Terry do you now?"
Terry had intended to argue, but once he'd started, he found he couldn't. And, while he got to his feet, the little lad, with his pricklet standing stiffly in front of him, got down to his knees in a perfect impression of the older boy's previous position.
The little face beamed up as he prepared to take on the larger erection. The boy opened his mouth, but his lips couldn't make it around the teenager's knob-end until he received some help. Once, however, he'd managed to get that far, he was eager enough to start sucking on his own. Still, Terry had a hunch that more could be done, and, at first, he applied gentle pressure to the lad's head, coaxing him to take a little more of the length and then a little more. The tip hit the back of Donny's throat, and he spat part of it back out again.
With the boy behaving like he himself was no longer allowed, Terry forgot the other was only a youngster and grabbed a fistful of the kid's hair and yanked it forward, forcing him to take as much into his mouth as he could actually hold.
Donny bolted a little, but decided that he might as well do it the way the other wanted, as he'd promised. And, when Terry saw that the boy was resigned to his fate, he relaxed a little, ready for some simple pleasure.
"Go ahead, kiss it. Lick it all over," he said, "then you can start sucking properly."
The little boy nodded his head in agreement, already knowing more than he let on and never, once, letting the shaft drop from his mouth. He tried to remember all the steps he'd been taught, with his lips and hands. Every couple of seconds, he'd look up for the approval of the older boy, which he soon got. Opening his youthful jaws as far as they would go until he could feel the swollen tip once more hitting the back of his throat. He wanted to suck a little more, all the way to the fuzzy balls, because that's what had been done for him. He tried his best, but, eventually, he came to the position when he simply couldn't fit anymore in. When he tried, he only gagged, so was left with the option of trying to do the best with what he'd already managed.
Donny only knew one way to suck on something, so that's what he used. Closing his lips around the hard thing in his mouth, he pulled on it slightly. The sensation against his lips reminding him a little of sucking a stick of rock, but that wasn't an overly unfair comparison either. The pricklet in his mouth tasted as nice as rock had done, although the forward and back motion as it slid through his lips was something else. And, as for the way it throbbed whenever his tongue ventured close...
Donny sensed something was changing. The pricklet in his mouth began quivering, and the other boy had begun to act strangely, quivering and moaning, his fingers pulled on Donny's hair.
"Almost there!" Terry gasped, more to himself than anything else.
The words meant nothing to the little boy on his knees. All he knew was the way the other was very keen not to let him move his head too far back. Not that there was any danger of that, for sucking the youth's prick was something of an adventure, and he didn't rightly know what was going to happen next. He heard Terry moaning and felt his vibrations, so he sucked that little bit harder. Closing his eyes real tight, he dropped a hand to his own lap and touched his own hardness the way he always did.
Suddenly, right in mid-suck, the lad felt the rod in his mouth start to explode. Terry was moaning and groaning as the hot cum began to pour down Donny's throat. He hadn't intended to make the lad swallow his cum, and Donny was none too happy about it either as tears poured down his face almost as fast as the cum was going down his throat. When, at last, the fingers dropped from the top of the lad's head, Terry saw he had pulled out clumps of the lad's hair. Quickly he tried to comfort the lad, but Donny would have none of it. His face had turned a purplish green, and his cheeks puffed up as he put his hand to his mouth and ran off into the bushes, retching all the way.
Terry took his cue and left.
CHAPTER: Chapter 08: Thief
"You are to steal something from the NAAFI shop."
It seemed to be the easiest of the instructions so far, and Terry didn't hesitate to carry it out.
Being in the middle of an army base, the NAAFI shop had no need for security cameras or alarms, so Terry assumed the task would be easy to accomplish so he could return to his more interesting activities. And, it did go perfectly until he was caught trying to leave. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, the shopkeeper called Mr. Diamond for her advice on how to deal with the situation.
"Speaking from my own experience," his mother had said, "Terry thinks he should receive a sound spanking and then work off the money in the store."
Naturally, Terry didn't like this solution much, but with the eyes of both adults glued to him, there was little he could say about it. Still, he thought, the shopkeeper would hardly want to be put to so much trouble. Unfortunately, he was in for a surprise and not a pleasant one.
"How quite right you are," said the shopkeeper, "Terry certainly would never commit the same crime twice after having my bare bottom spanked."
So it was agreed. Terry was to remain in the shop until it closed at 5 p.m., at which time the shopkeeper would bring him home. In the meantime, however, he was at the mercy of whatever the man had in mind.
As soon as Terry's mother had left, the shopkeeper swept past the boy, locked the front door, and turned the sign to 'Closed'. "Right then, boy," the shopkeeper said, "in the back, you've a sound spanking coming."
A hand landed on Terry's shoulder and guided him through the storage area behind the store. The boy only took tiny steps until the shopkeeper's free hand whacked his backside, hurrying him scampering forwards. He was surprised how much it hurt, even through his trousers, and he hated to imagine what it would be like once these were removed.
Propelled into the large warehouse area where rows of shelves rose to the ceiling, the shopkeeper paused for a moment, then pushed the boy towards a stack of crates. And, before Terry could grasp what was happening, the shopkeeper had sat on the crates, pulled him between his knees.Locking his legs around the boy, the shopkeeper held the boy firmly and took hold of the smaller waistband.
"No!" Terry squealed, "You can't!"
No matter what the boy said, it did nothing to prevent his trousers from descending. When he tried to grab them, his hands were slapped away sharply with one hand while the other finished lowering the shorts to his knees.
Frantically humiliated, he stood there with just his soon-to-be-lowered underpants covering his thirteen-year-old privates, ashamed, somewhat absurdly, that the man was going to see how underdeveloped he was.
"You can't! You're not my father!" he hollered in one last ditch attempt to keep his underwear.
"No," the man said slowly, "I'm not your father. But I'm still going to spank your naughty bare bottom."
A short tug of war followed, but it ended quickly when the storekeeper somehow got his hands behind the boy and gave his sensitive seat three or four hearty slaps. They burned so fiercely that, without thinking, Terry put his hands behind himself to comfort his rear and, before he knew it, his underpants had joined his shorts around his knees. His groin staring the man in the face.
The storekeeper didn't seem the slightest bit flustered by the display. He simply spread his legs apart, took the boyish hips in his hands and moved him around to the side of his lap. "Lie down," he ordered, and Terry nearly dove across the knees in order to hide his embarrassment.
There followed several moments of nothingness while the man took his time getting things settled. He moved the boy into the correct position and pulled his clothing the rest of the way to his ankles, and then reached back up and pulled his arm up his back. Terry tried to move around when he realized his penis rested against a hot thigh, but he was pinned down too tightly. As embarrassing as it was, having someone he didn't know staring down at his bare bottom, he was more scared he'd be able to feel him hardening. Soon he had other things to think about.
The shopkeeper didn't spank at all like his mother did. The man scolded him for a long time while he hung there with his bum up in his face. Although he only listened to a couple of minutes of it before switching off his ears. Then it started.
Terry didn't know how anything could sting him so much as the storekeeper's hand. He howled like crazy as his entire rear turned, quickly, to fire. Then, it stopped.
"You ready to learn your lesson?" he was asked.
Terry answered the only way he knew how: "I'm sorry," he said, "I'll never do it again. Please don't spank me."
The man listened carefully until he ran out of things to say, tucked him up tighter under his arm and then started slapping his bottom like it was possessed and needed the devil driving out of it. His palm was big enough to almost cover one cheek and he went from one to over repeatedly. Soon his entire backside was stinging.
For a thirteen-year-old, Terry knew how to raise a real ruckus while he was being spanked and did just that. He totally forgot his sense of modesty or what his penis was doing after the first ten, or so, slaps, even though he had stiffened against the thigh as he was rocked against it by the force of the blows. He pleaded and cried uncontrollably for a little while until it all went blank as the spanking continued.
The boy wasn't really with it by the time the spanking finished. All he was aware of was that one minute he was sobbing and gasping for air over his lap and then, the next, he danced around the storeroom, half naked and holding his bottom. He knew the woman was watching him and smiling but didn't care. It felt good to rub himself but it was like using a drinking glass to put out a forest fire. Yet, it was some time before he realized that his little penis was halfway hard and only then did his modesty return and he try to return his clothing to its proper place on his person.
"Leave them there," the shopkeeper barked, one hand threateningly held aloft, "you've a date with the corner of the store before you get dressed again. Now move."
Terry, naturally, wasn't in a position to argue and, leaving his shorts and underpants where they were, he hopped back into the shop and was escorted to a corner where he stood facing the wall at the back of the shop. It was only then that he realized what the man had in mind. He was going to put him on public display.
"Please," he begged, "you can't leave me here."
"I can," the man said, "and I'm going to. Now, you can either stand facing the wall with your hands on your head as a warning to others who might be tempted to steal from me or, we can go into the storeroom again and sort it out there. Which is it to be? The choice is yours."
Of course, it was no choice at all and Terry turned his teary face towards the plaster and hoped no one would recognize him, or realize what he'd done. However, these thoughts were to be short-lived as a sign hung around his head proclaiming him to be a 'THIEF' and then told anyone who came into the shop - whether they asked or not - what he'd done and how he'd been punished for it as if the heavy shaping on his backside wasn't enough to make the latter obvious.
There was one thing, however, for which young Terry could be grateful and that was, given his current position, there was nothing to hold his shirt up and this dropping went somewhere to lessening his embarrassment. Still, it was while he was checking this covered him in front when he noticed his pricklet was half hard again with the knob-end peeking through the end of his foreskin. The memory of both the woman's legs rubbing against it and of little Donny's lips wrapped tightly around it, were both fresh in his memory. The storekeeper was at the front, so Terry figured he could touch himself without being seen and did so, briefly. His hand, however, made the situation worse and soon his penis was at a full stand, clamping itself tightly to his belly where it remained for the rest of the time he was to stand in the corner.
This turned out to be worse than the actual spanking had been for, although his rear still stung from the woman's hand, being stared at and commented about as if he wasn't there, Terry found deeply humiliating. Behind him, the storekeeper would exchange stories with various customers about how spankings should be, or had been, administered while, any children who entered would be taken up to him and shown what happened to a bad boy. Some of the braver ones, poking the bruised flesh as if to check for the fastness of red coloring though, thankfully, no one but Terry himself, knew this also kept him hard.You are to be stringently bound so you cannot interfere in the punishment Terry is going to administer. Understand.
Sobbing back a tear, Terry Diamond answered in the way he'd been trained.
"Yes, Mother."
Since the head of the bed was pushed hard against the wall, the woman had to walk all the way around before she could get to the boy's other arm. Soon, however, she was yanking on his right arm with all the force she'd used on his left and had it tied in place. Moving to the foot of the bed, the hefty woman jack-knifed sharply and grabbed both of Terry's ankles. These were still tucked beneath him, but in one fell swoop, Mrs. Diamond pulled them open so the feet were close to the corresponding bedposts where they were quickly bound, rendering the thirteen-year-old helpless.
Powerless to resist as his mother sat heavily on the side of the bed next to him and leaned across him so he would be unable to see what she was doing. His definitive erection was swallowed by one of her huge hands that began to manipulate it far more vigorously than he had done to himself. All the time, she continued to masturbate the helpless boy, cataloguing all the dire consequences of self-abuse.
Terry, who'd been close to the edge before the unwelcome interruption, experienced his first orgasm quickly. His thin, boyish cum spurted from his pricklet over his belly where it was left to dry as the manipulations continued. The second wasn't far behind the first, with the third following on rapidly behind that, each a little less violent than the one which had preceded it, until the boy was feeling completely wrung out. Yet, his mother continued her ministrations for half an hour, wringing two more dry shudders from his exhausted body before she finally left him.
Completely exhausted and with a rare red penis, Terry was then forced to sob his apologies for having been 'wicked and sinful'.
The matter appeared closed after that, for although his mother didn't untie him, she did leave the room. However, just as Terry was getting used to the idea of having to sleep spread-eagled on his bed, his mother returned, bringing with her, of all things, an overly large baby's dummy. Saying nothing, yet aware of the boy's eyes upon her, she went to the foot of his bed and, once more bent herself across it. This done, she reached forward with the dummy furthest from her fist. The round, plastic tip slid up the inside of Terry's left thigh until it came to the point where his legs came together. Not that the dummy stopped there. Continuing upward, it sought out, and found, the one place it could go.
Terry gasped as he felt the object butting against the entrance to his anus, but he could do nothing about it as his mother increased her pressure upon the end and slowly, tortuously, screwed it in, past his resistance. Slowly, but surely, the boy's sphincter opened up around the widest part of the dummy until, with a flick of her wrist, Mrs. Diamond could punch it home. Then, as soon as the two-inch diameter section had entered, the rest followed automatically, swallowed by the sphincter's natural responses until the base of the dummy pressed tightly into the crack of Terry's buttocks, giving him his first idea of what it would feel like to be fucked.
Chapter 10: Make-up
By the time he was released the next morning, Terry had become quite accustomed to the feeling of having something inside his young bottom, and, once left alone to dress, he toyed with the idea of leaving the oversized dummy inside himself, but he feared his mother would ask for it back. Coming downstairs a few minutes later, he heard voices from the living room. Voices that sent shivers up his spine. One was his mother's and expected, but the other wasn't, seeing as it belonged to the girl who'd initiated one of his first spankings.
"About time too," chastised his mother when he emerged through the living room door, resplendent in his brand new suit of clothes. "Now Terry can go to work."
"But Mum - mother," Terry tried, but it got nothing but a stern look.
"You'd better do what Sally says, else you'll have me to answer to. Understand?"
"Yes, Mother."
Satisfied, the woman left her son in the capable, if scheming, hands of her new babysitter.
"So, boy," Sally said once they were alone, "Do you think I'm pretty?"
"Yes!" he replied, thinking this would be the best answer.
"Judging by your clothes, you like pretty things, don't you, boy?"
Looking down at the many frills that adorned his blouse, shorts, and ankle socks, Terry could only agree.
"Then come here."
Slowly, he walked across the living room floor, and, as he did, Sally held up her lipstick and said, "I'm going to make you look even prettier too."
When he realised what she intended, Terry jumped back again. "No, please!" he said.
Sally looked at him with a smile on her face, "What makes you think you have a choice in the matter? Either you let me put it on you, or I'll make you." With that, she quickly cranked down the lipstick, put the cap back on, and started to walk towards the boy.
Terry started to run out of the room, but Sally was just too quick for him. She grabbed him by the arm and got him onto the floor, where she sat on him, holding his arms down with her knees. Terry struggled beneath her, but, try as he might, he couldn't do anything. Eventually, he relaxed, and looked back up at Sally smiling down at him.
"Oh, you silly boy. You should have let me put the lipstick on you because now, as a punishment, I'm going to have to make you wear makeup as well, and see what Terry can do with your hair."
She took a curling iron from the bag that had been hidden beside the sofa and plugged it in so it could heat up. Then, holding the boy's head between her legs, she took liquid makeup from the bag and started to apply it to his face. She could feel him trying to struggle and wriggle his head loose from between her thighs, but as she continued to apply the chemicals, she felt Terry's resistance start to flounder. And, when she opened her legs, the boy just lay there, defeated.
Sally smiled and said, "That's a good little boy. You just lay there and let me make you pretty."
Finished with the liquid makeup, she put blusher onto each of his hairless cheeks. Then she held his eyelids closed one at a time so that she could apply the bright blue eye-shadow. Next, she outlined his eyebrows with eyeliner and put mascara on his eyelashes.
"There," she laughed, "Now you look almost like a girl. Hold your lips together."
Terry didn't do anything but stare at the lipstick held in front of his face.
"Come on. Be a good girl for me because," her voice dropped to a whisper, "you wouldn't want me to tell your Mother you'd been bad now, would you? Not after last time."
Terry held out for another minute before finally giving up the last of his dignity. Slowly, his lips moved from the pouting scowl into the tight lines the girl wanted, and, equally slowly, Sally brought the tube of bright red lipstick to his lips.
"Pretty! Pretty!" she mumbled, taking her time applying the lipstick to the boy's lips as if he were a doll. When she'd finished, Terry had a very thick coat of lipstick past the edges of his mouth all the way around, forming his lips into a more sexy shape than was natural for such a young boy.
Allowing the boy to sit up, Sally picked up the curling tongs and started on his hair. Due to its prior length, she was able to take short runs of it into the curling iron until she'd framed it all into light bunches. Then, as a final touch, she took one of the curls and tied in a large pin ribbon.
Finished now, the babysitter helped her charge to his feet and exclaimed, "You look just like a little girl. Come on, Terry, I want you to see."
Taking him by the hand, Sally led him up to his mother's bedroom and the full-length mirror in front of which she placed him. "This," she told him, "is what will happen if you are bad and disobey me while I'm here."
Terry couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was his face alright, but his skin seemed to have a soft glow about it. His cheeks were a soft pink, and his eyes, pale blue. His eyelashes were twice as long as normal, and without the way the eyeliner contrasted, made his eyes stand out in a decidedly more feminine way. His lips glistened from the heavy coat of bright red, while his usually flat hair was a mess of curls with the ribbon cocked to one side.
"So," Sally interrupted his thoughts, "do you think you look like a little girl?"
"Yes, Miss," he said honestly.
"Good. Let's look through some fashion books."
As they did this, Sally continually asked for Terry's opinion until they came to a picture of a short pleated skirt and long-sleeved jersey, at which she announced, "that would be a good thing to dress you up in and make you really look like a girl."
Terry blushed, but said nothing, well aware now that his pricklet had started to harden the moment the girl had overpowered him and had remained hard throughout the following degradation. Perhaps, he thought to himself, it wouldn't be so bad to be a girl. After all, girls didn't get punished as often as boys did.
Chapter 11: Indians
A couple of days later, Terry, in order to keep out of Sally's way, listened to the doorbell ringing from upstairs and was surprised when he heard his name called. Obediently, he raced down to where the girl waited for him and asked, politely, what she wanted.
"One of your little friends has just called for you, and as you've been so good recently, I've decided to allow you to go out to play. However, before you go, you will need to be dressed properly. Let's go upstairs and see what we can find."
This didn't turn out to be nearly as bad as Terry had expected. There was none of the feminization, but rather, the more macho appearance of a cowboy, complete with Stetson, jeans, waistcoat, and a knotted bandanna around his throat.Somewhat pleased with this attire, he was only too happy to go and find his young friend - whoever that might be - and play, whatever they wanted.
Terry followed the instructions he'd been given carefully and soon found himself heading back towards the frighteningly familiar surroundings of the Old Guardhouse. There, waiting patiently for him, was none other than young Donny. Not only that, but the eleven-year-old was more than dressed for his role, although "undressed" may have been a more accurate description.
"How!" shouted the youngster through the bushes. "Do you like my costume? I made it myself."
"I'd never have guessed," answered Terry sarcastically, hiding his real feelings of envy, for, despite being simply the other boy's clothes, they were very effective. In fact, Donny wore little more than a piece of elastic around his waist, from which he had threaded a length of soft cloth between his legs and back out again, so the two ends hung down over his loins and rear like a real breechcloth. Even his war paint, although amateurishly done, did set off the lines of his well-defined chest.
As the younger boy walked over to where he'd entered the clearing, Terry, for the first time, realized just how brief the other's cloth was and asked, "Do you go around like that often?"
"Of course," said Donny with pride, "But mostly down here."
"Why? What's here?"
"It's where we play all our games," the lad explained.
Remembering what he'd been doing the last time he'd been there, Terry asked, "What sort of games?"
"You know, like 'war' and 'Cowboys and Indians' and stuff like that?"
"You play these by yourself, do you?"
"No, me and the others." Suddenly, Donny changed the subject, "Do you want to play 'Cowboys and Indians' with me?"
Terry shrugged, "Why do you think I'm dressed like this? How do you play, anyway?"
"Oh, it's simple. Mostly, we just divide into armies and take prisoners and kill each other and stuff like that."
"Won't it be a bit boring with just the two of us?"
"No, we could skip the first part and go into the prisoners bit. If you want to, that is?"
The idea appealed to Terry the instant the other boy had said it, for he too didn't want to be bothered with all the running through the woods, as this would be bound to make him dirty, and he didn't fancy another of Sally's punishments. So, without waiting for another word to be said, he went into action.
Donny didn't know what hit him and didn't stand a chance. The larger boy flew at him from a standing start, and soon the pair of them lay on the floor in a scrambling heap. Thankfully for Terry, the amount of punishments he'd been through had taught him something, and he soon had Donny down on his front with his arms behind his naked back. From there, it was an easy task to use the elastic around the boy's own waist to bind his wrists into the small of his back. "Got you?" he said, helping the bound boy to his feet.
"What you gonna do with me now, pale-face!" teased the poor impression of an American Indian.
"I think," Terry said, even though he hadn't thought about it at all, "That I'm going to have to take you back to my camp and torture you."
And, with that said, he circled behind the boy and prodded him forwards into the darkness of the Old Guardhouse. Not speaking again until they were safe from any prying eyes.
"Tell me what you know?" he demanded.
"I won't tell you nothing," replied the bound boy.
"In that case, red-skin, you leave me no option but to spank it out of you on your bare bum."
Contrary to the struggles Terry had envisioned, Donny just shrugged, "Go on then. I dare you," the little lad said, "I dare you?"
"Oh," Terry scoffed, "I dare alright."
So it was that, for the first time in his young life, Terry Diamond found himself undressing another boy. A boy who had his hands tied behind his back. Actually, this made the job a little more difficult than the thirteen-year-old had imagined it would, and, in the end, he had to give up his plan to remove all traces of Donny's costume. Still, that didn't matter too much as he removed the cloth itself, which rendered the lad naked before his eyes.
"Now," he said, his voice a little shaky, "I am going to inspect the prisoner before punishment begins. Stand still."
Taking his time, Terry found a couple of boxes to sit on and placed them directly in front of his proposed victim. On these, he sat and studied the form standing before him. Donny, he soon discovered, wasn't as immature as he had first thought. Although the lad still had the high-pitched voice of prepubertal boyhood, his body showed the early signs that the changes had already begun. His nipples stood out, almost pointed in the heat of the moment, while, down between his legs, the area directly above his groin, although silky smooth, had the darkened appearance of a boy about to sprout his very first pubic hair. The genitals themselves were rather small in size, even if some of that could have been down to the shrill draft that floated through the Guardhouse. The crinkled sac hung closely to the bottom of the slim length that, slowly and steadily, expanded the longer Terry stared at it. It was, however, the reverse view that excited Terry himself. The very instant he had the lad turn around, he felt his own penis spring hard against his underwear at the sight of the well-rounded buttocks that just begged to be spanked.
Forgetting all pretense at his game, Terry urged Donny to lie face down over his lap, not caring if the younger boy could feel his erection pressing up through the fly of his denim shorts. Gently, but hurriedly, Terry ran his hand over the presented area, keeping it in tight to the dark valley nestling between them.
He began to spank, gently at first, and then harder until Donny's buttocks bounced up and down on his lap. This, Terry found, caused a delightful sensation to flood through his own loins from the see-saw motion of the body laying across them. Every so often, however, he found he had to stop so he wouldn't make a mess inside his underpants, but he made good use of this opportunity to stroke and caress the flesh he slowly reddened, still pushing his fingers into the soft, sweaty crack.
"Ooooohhh!" the little lad sighed, "That feels brilliant. Spank me some more now. Then rub my bum some more."
"You mean," blundered Terry, "You like this. You like being spanked?"
"Sometimes," admitted the lad on his lap, "If it's being done like you do it. Go on, do it some more and I'll rub on your prick and make you feel good too."
It was too good an offer for Terry to turn down, so he didn't. Knowing the other boy liked it really spurred him on, and he tucked Donny further under his arm and started to really let him have it, smacking one side then the other, until all the twisting and turning this produced drove him over the edge himself, and his thin boyish semen flooded into his clothing before he could do anything about it.Then it was my turn, again. At Billy's head, my feet were tied into the same rope that held his hands, while my hands were added to the cord hanging from the back of my friend's neck. This didn't, however, get what Simon wanted, but he soon rectified his miscalculation by raising Billy's head by the hair and pushing on my bum. As a result, my groin was crushed into Billy's face. The ropes then adjusted to keep it there.
Obviously, if you think about it, with the two of us trussed up like that, only Terry could see what Simon did next, and when Simon stripped himself, his prick was every bit as big as I'd imagined. Soft, it was impressive enough, but hard, he'd expanded to at least double that, if not treble, with a head of fiery red erupting from the withdrawn pink foreskin. With my imagination, it didn't take me long at all to work out what Simon intended to do with what he had just unleashed. Unfortunately, for Billy, my body reacted in the only fitting way. One second he was breathing sweaty, urine-dipped, testicles, and the next he struggled to swallow my dick, as Terry sprung an instantaneous erection. However, before Billy could get used to the familiar feel of my dick in his mouth, he had one he wasn't so familiar with trying to bore him a second arsehole.
Billy told me later just how much it had hurt to be fucked by the rampant teenager. Not just the hole itself, but the entire area around it. Simon's fingers dug into his flanks, buttocks, and thighs. The red-hot telegraph pole of a prick rammed his tiny rear entrance. Billy squirmed about as much as his bonds would allow to make the process easier. So much so that Terry had no idea when he was actually entered. His oral movements on my dick kept my eyes screwed shut, even though Terry had the perfect view of the cleft of his buttocks. Simon and Billy did, though; they both felt the red, bulbous, damp, head of Simon's outsized erection as it forced its way through Billy's clenched buttocks and up into his rectum. On and on it went. Further and further in it travelled. Deeper and deeper it sank, carrying on through until Terry was virtually face to face with Simon over the back of the boy we occupied.
It only took the inexperienced Simon little more than a couple of hastily performed hip thrusts to complete the act of fucking his first boy. If only Billy had informed him that this was what he wanted all along. If only. Two words which always dominated Simon's life. Yet it was Simon who'd shown us the way forward. Simon who'd made our childhood dreams come true. Simon who'd given both Billy and Terry a taste of the pleasures of life. Simon who'd taken away all the safety nets we'd previously protected ourselves with. Simon who'd showed us how to do it right. And they called Simon Simple!
Chapter 13: Puppy
"Strip!"
It was a simple instruction, and one which Terry should have been expecting. In fact, he had been expecting it. Expecting it with a mixture of dread and anticipation, since he'd first entered the house. Late.
"Strip!" repeated Sally. "Take all your clothes off. You won't be needing them where you're going."
It didn't sound so bad. In a split second, his shirt was off, and down came his shorts and underpants. He didn't speak, strangely enough wanting to impress the girl with his obedience.
"Get down!"
Terry lay with heels tucked tight under his bottom while Sally produced two large rolls of two-inch-wide, brown, parcel tape and a strange maze of leather strapping connected to dog collars with embedded steel loops instead of a buckle. These were dumped on the floor in a steadily growing pile of some of the most interesting items he'd seen in a long while. A butt plug just like the previous one he'd worn, only without the latex briefs.
"Faster!" Sally barked, swiping him across his exposed bottom so savagely the skin instantly changed colour.
Despite being frightened of this new development, Terry soon relaxed at the professional way he was treated. With his legs bent at the knee, the parcel tape was applied, liberally, first to his ankles and then to the corresponding thigh, effectively halving the length of his legs. Then, with his lower limbs secured without constricting his blood flow, attention turned to his hands. These, Terry was told to make into fists with the thumb tucked around the outside of the fingers. The whole of the hand, from the wrist up, was then heavily coated in tape, making all his digits useless.
"Stand up," Sally ordered. Terry nearly spoke, but managed to contain himself in time, giving his best 'puzzled' look instead. It worked. "Like a dog."
It took a few tries, but eventually Terry managed to roll himself onto what remained of his limbs, crouching just like the 'Puppy' he was obviously meant to be.
"Very good," said Sally. She picked up a tangle of leather and started to straighten it, "Little Puppy dogs have a tendency to chew on things they shouldn't. That's where this comes into play. Terry, bet you've been wondering about it, haven't you?" Terry nodded. "Terry had it made especially in the camp workshop. Do you like it?" Terry nodded. "Then why don't you try it for size? Head up."
Sally took over five minutes to fit the contraption, while Terry took less than a split second to decide he didn't like it. The first applied, an inch-diameter, solid section of rubber, fitted perfectly between the boy's teeth and was held in place by the leather web. These straps taking all Sally's time in adjusting. Before it was finished, Terry was more than effectively silenced, only then did he get to see the item the whole performance had been about. Gingerly, Terry lowered his head down again as Sally snapped the long-awaited collar around his neck. It was a perfect fit - tight, yet not choking - a small padlock at the back fastening it shut with a satisfying click. It also attached a length of chain which Sally now took up.
"Right then, Puppy. Let's show you around. Heel!"
The chain was yanked forward, putting a strain on the back of his neck that would have made Terry cry out had he been able to do so. Instead, all Terry could do was stumble forward, lose his footing, and fall onto his side. Sally wasn't impressed. "Naughty Puppy," she said, slashing his helpless rear with the free end of the leash, "One more time like that and it's a punishment for you. Now, WALKIES."
Terry's first walk as a Puppy turned out to be a lot more difficult than he'd imagined. It wasn't just the way he controlled his bound limbs, but the gag made breathing difficult to boot. Then there were the demeaning comments Terry had to endure, as they left the house and headed into the woods. Comments that came from everyone they passed. Comments that mainly had to do with which breed of dog Terry was. Then, if that wasn't enough, the comments got more personal, as the girls circled him, until they were all about the size and operational aspects of his genitals and how their current position - swinging down between his thighs - made his arsehole look enormous. Objects were suggested which could be easily fitted into his hole. They started with the possible - a tin of deodorant - and ended with the impossible - an elephant's trunk.
"What's the matter, little Puppy?" Sally said, patting him on the head, "Do you want to play? We can find you a stick to fetch. You'll like that, won't you?"
Just as Terry was about to shake his head, a young voice cut in. "He'd prefer it up his arse."
The joke fell flat. "Who said that?" Sally demanded, looking around. "Donny," she spotted the youngster, "Terry should have guessed it was you. Get the stick."
The boy Indian ran away like a scared rabbit. Terry smiled behind his gag until Donny returned with what looked like half a log and dropped it in front of his face. Sally cuffed the back of his head. "Puppy doesn't want it yet. You're going to get it first. Strip!"
Donny looked scared, but there was no point in arguing. Terry watched, glad not to be the centre of attention, as a small circle formed around the disgraced lad.
"If Terry were you," laughed Sally as Donny's costume was removed, "Terry wouldn't make jokes about the size of Puppy's privates. Not when you have next to nothing in that department yourself."
Donny laughed, hoping to ease the situation. It didn't help. Sally wasn't finished yet.
"However," she held up her hand for silence, and got it. "what about your bottom. How does that compare? Why don't you bend and spread, so we can check?"
"No, please!" the lad begged.
"Are you refusing me, boy?"
The question confused him, "Yes - er - no! Terry... please!"
"You remember what happened last time you didn't do what Terry wanted, don't you, Donny?"
His face fell. "Yes!"
"Why don't you tell my friends then. So they'll all know!"
Obviously no wanting to, Terry told the story as quickly as he could, only to be prompted whenever more detail was needed anyway. Gradually the tale emerged of the small boy playing football, alone, on the sports ground when the girls turned up for their Ping-Pong practice. Sally had told him to leave, but, being the new girl, she had yet to establish her authority and, to his peril, he didn't listen. The argument continued for some time before, with their reputations on the line, the threats started. Of course, Donny had assumed hers had been empty threats, but they weren't. When he'd realised her intent was to carry out the summary justice she'd promised, he'd run and made it halfway across the sports field before she'd caught him. Under one arm, his torso had been pushed. Sally's right arm had made short work of his soccer shorts and underpants, pausing only briefly before showering a rain of Ping-Pong bat blows down upon his rear until he was howling with all the might of his young lungs and his bottom glowed brightly.
"Well?" demanded Sally once the story was concluded.
This time it wasn't a question - everybody knew that - it was an order.With little more than a half-hearted sigh, Donny kneeled down, pressed his face to the ground, raised his hindquarters, and used both hands around behind himself to pull his buttocks apart. The gang crowded in for a closer look.
"Seems pretty small to me, but what do Terry know about boys' bottoms?" the girls laughed at their leader's joke. Sally waited until they fell silent before continuing. "No, what we need here is an expert. Now, where would we get an expert out here? Oh, yes, Terry knows." All eyes turned down to stare at Terry. "A Puppy. Of course, who else would know all about bottoms?" She patted his head. "Why don't you have a sniff and let us know what you think?"
Terry waited until Sally pulled on his chain. Then, like the small dog he was supposed to be, Terry trotted across the surprisingly level ground and peered into the gap between his friend's buttocks. A hand on the back of his head pushed his face closer until his nose was virtually touching the crinkled flesh. It smelt clean with a faint hint of soap, but this was far closer than Terry wished to be, yet still he found it intriguing.
"What does Puppy think?" Sally asked him, pulling the leash back.
Terry shook his head, not really to answer his question, more to move away from Donny's arse-hole.
"Is it too small?"
Terry nodded, almost squashing his nose, for it was very small, and he couldn't see how anything could ever pass through it.
"Will it stretch?"
Now that was a question going through his mind, just as it was Sally's. Thankfully, his own experiences told him the answer. He nodded.
"So Puppy thinks it will stretch. Anyone disagree?" No one dared to. "In that case, Donny, spit on your finger and stuff it up your arse."
Terry felt his penis click up a notch, at last he was going to see something he'd often done to himself. Right before his astonished eyes, Donny, unable to comfortably reach around himself, slid his hand between his own slightly splayed legs to put the fingertip right on that tantalising little hole.
"As far as it will go," Sally broke the expectant silence, "we don't want anything half-hearted. Puppy wouldn't like that, would you Puppy?"
Terry wouldn't, but couldn't say so, the horse-bit gag preventing him from dribbling over Donny's bum.
A slight sweat had broken out on the eleven-year-old's body, which undoubtedly made it easier for him to shove his right forefinger into his arsehole. Terry's eyes nearly bugged out of his sockets as the finger twisted itself into the expanding hole. The elder penis turned itself into a fully fledged prick the moment the first knuckle disappeared into that pulsating hole, and by the time the second one passed through, Terry was dribbling enough pre-cum to turn the grass to mud between his legs.
Then, Donny's hand spread flat against his bottom, his finger embedded just as far as it could possibly go. For the first time, Terry was pleased to be restrained. Had he not been, then he'd have been pulling on his dick hard enough to rupture himself. That is, if he'd be able to resist the temptation to ram something else into that delightful hole. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice his discomfort. Or, so he thought.
"So, Puppy was right," Sally patted his head again, "and, shall be rewarded." She turned to the boy with his finger up his arse. "But first, Donny, you will have to be punished for your previous transgression. Bend yourself over Puppy, but don't even think of moving your finger, understand?"
He did, and Terry was in heaven. If there was one thing Terry liked more than looking up another boy's arse, it was seeing a decent spanking, preferably bare bottomed. However, Terry was to be disappointed, for he wasn't going to be able to see anything, having missed one of the instructions. When Donny crawled, with difficulty, to a position laid over his back, all Terry could see was his hips and side. His head and shoulders pressed onto the small of his back, while the rest trailed out away from him. Terry couldn't even see his genitals, for they were obscured by the arm still passing through his thighs. The so-called 'spanking' wasn't much better. Not only was it executed by stick rather than the flat of a hand, but the blows were all gentle. Terry thought the idea of a punishment was for the one being punished to feel it.
There was, however, one other thing Terry had forgotten about. It was up to Sally to remind him. He pointed with the stick: "Terry think Puppy is ready for his reward now."
Thankfully, no one questioned just why his prick was stiff and running. At least The Sons of Bitches' had come to terms with the way their bodies reacted to seeing one of their number humiliated. Terry had definitely made the right choice in joining them.
With some obvious difficulty - the caning must have been harder than Terry thought - Donny dragged his head and was about to right himself when the stick gave him an unexpected blow across the base of the spine that made him jump. "Where do you think you're going? You're Puppy's reward. Take the position."
Donny shrugged his shoulders and got into his previous position, face down in the mud, bum up. Now it was Terry who needed Sally to explain what was going on. She smiled a queer sort of grin and explained. "You've seen excited Puppies in the park before, haven't you? Excited like you." She pointed at his prick, making it bob below his belly. "So you should know what they would do in the current circumstances?" Terry did, but he helped by taking the stick from his prick and pointing at Donny's most exposed region. "This is what you have to do."
Terry couldn't help a smile spread across his face, or would have had the makeshift muzzle not been there. Donny must have noticed this, for he opened his legs and took his finger from the hole Terry was about to possess. Terry no longer needed any instructions.
It wasn't an easy operation given his trussed limbs, but like they say "Love conquers all," and by pushing his arms to their fullest extent, Terry was able to raise his head and shoulders high enough to pass over the top of Donny. He lowered himself to make it easier and then he raised back up until their bodies touched. His heaving chest pressed into the slight curve of his back. Naturally, that wasn't the only place they touched. His forearms clutched at his sides as his knees walked forward until his prick came into contact with the warm flanks. Now the tricky part. It took several long, anguished minutes as Terry rubbed his length around the crack until he could get it located in just the right spot. Once there, it sank into the crease like a long lost friend. His hips jerked rapidly. Desperately, Terry hoped it wouldn't tip over the top before he was inside. Thankfully, he didn't.
"Easy!" the eleven-year-old yelped as Terry jabbed his testicles. Somehow, he reached between his legs and guided Terry most wanted to be. The plump buttocks jammed back. The rosebud opened and swallowed Terry's whole length. With a barrage of rockets and stars exploding on the inside of his eyelids, Terry went the full depth inside the boy. The, obviously experienced, sphincter muscle milking him for everything he was worth, and then some. Wave after wave of hot gushing sperm shot from his testicles with so much force Terry half expected it to come shooting right out of Donny's mouth. God, it was good, and then, suddenly, Terry was lying on his side in the grass.
"Looks like Puppy needs to be sexed." Terry was trying to right himself without much success when Sally spoke. "Think I'll have to be the Vet - assistance please."
The assembled girls seized his four bound limbs, rolled him onto his back, and held him open for Dr. Sally's inspection, which, not surprisingly, centred around his penis. "Who's a naughty Puppy then?" she asked, taking the limpness between his thumb and forefinger like a spent condom. "Been doing naughty things, haven't you? Still, never mind, I'll can help you stop."
Terry was more than a little worried. Sure, he'd enjoyed everything so far, but there had always remained that element of familiarity. Put bluntly, Terry was up shit creek without a boat, let alone a paddle.
He had plenty of time to think about the problem as Sally's fingers moved to the end of his prick where she held his foreskin in a pinch. The main body of his prick made a hasty retreat down inside its protective sheath. This tube of skin was then wrapped tightly in packing tape, keeping it, as Sally joked, "Out of harm's way."
His mind resembled itself as he rolled back onto all fours. Sally took up his chain as Terry trotted over to a nearby tree. Concentrating hard to keep his balance, Terry raised his hind leg and released his bladder. At first, nothing happened. All eyes were fixed on the end of his prick where it swelled vulgarity out of its bondage. Then, just as Sally thought she'd tied the tape too tight, out came a great steaming stream of dark yellow urine. Only just in time did Terry manage to get his leg out of the way, and he'd never felt so relieved in his life. The girls cheered his successful urination, and Terry was informed, by Sally, that it was time for him to be put to bed.
Terry scampered along behind his Mistress' with all the dignity his current predicament would allow, hardly even noticing the variable pains created by the contraptions he'd been fastened into. The most uncomfortable thing, surprisingly enough, was his own cum as it dried on his thighs, gluing the tiny hairs on his legs together. Meanwhile, Sally chatted as if this were a Sunday morning stroll.
The final destination came as a bit of a surprise. They broke from the clearing and into the courtyard of the cottage. Quickly passing around the building and into a seriously overgrown back garden. "Here," Terry was told, "Is your home for the night.""Sally didn't point at the cottage but through a hole in the waist-high undergrowth towards a patch of newly leveled grass, beyond which a small wooden construction loomed. "Go and have a look."
He should have known better, but Terry couldn't help himself, and it wasn't as if he could be locked in, or anything which he'd been afraid of, as there was no door. There again, who has ever seen a kennel with a door? For that's what it was: a very solidly built, large-sized dog-house, right out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. Fresh straw covered the otherwise bare floor. Outside, to one side of the entrance way, lay two bowls, one marked 'Food' and the other, 'Water', both were empty. That was all there was to it, however, Terry took so long looking for more that he didn't even notice who crept up behind him.
"See you in the morning."
Terry turned to follow, took half a dozen paces and choked. His eyes flashed around, but there was no one near. Terry looked at Sally, nearly twenty feet away, obviously no longer holding his leash. He turned his attention to Donny, the only member of the gang who bore him a grudge, but the little lad didn't hold the chain either. Thinking a bit more logically, Terry moved around so he could follow the links of the chain itself, right to the kennel where a small padlock held him firm.
Terry refused to panic and got comfortable. Thankfully, the kennel had been made for a fair-sized dog, so it was no trouble for him to waddle his way inside. The ceiling was low for sitting down - or rather squatting, doggy style, so that left only one option. Terry moved over to the right-hand wall, brushed himself against it, and then let go. The straw acted as a cushion, but it still hurt when Terry landed on his side. Once comfortable, sort of, he settled. Lying chained up, gagged, and with his prick and balls taped up, in a kennel beside a deserted cottage, Terry, strangely, recreated the sensation of sliding his pricklet through the soft folds of Donny's arsehole and wanked himself to sleep. | 6 |
4,515 | Broken Jedi | "Red Alert! All stations! Red Alert!" shouted a male voice over thousands of comm stations across the surface of Coruscant. "All fighter pilots! Report to your craft immediately!"
New Republic military personnel rushed aboard hover transports and flooded the transit lanes as they rushed to report to their stations at the various defensive sites surrounding the Imperial Palace. Squadrons of X-Wing and Y-Wing fighters shot into the sky on pillars of blue flame as they struggled to meet the advancing Sluggorn attack fleet. A small task force of New Republic warships slid out of orbit and sailed to meet the numerically superior enemy, launching their own starfighters to provide a thin screen. Huge, orb-shaped Sluggorn battlespheres emerged from Hyperspace and spread out in a wide arc formation with the apex pointing towards the New Republic capital. Swarms of fighter spheres spat out of hanger bays, shooting forward to engage starfighter targets. As the capital ships flew slowly towards their counterparts, fighters met in lethal exchanges of laser fire, evading and maneuvering for position while they struggled to kill each other.
"Are the planetary batteries online?" asked Serilda tersely as she watched the battle unfold in the Command Center holotank.
"Yes, Minister. The Navy is preparing the Solar System Array right now. They estimate that the weapon will be ready in twelve minutes," reported an Army major.
"Tell the Navy engineers to hurry, the fleet may not be able to hold for long," ordered Serilda Solo.
"Yes, Minister," acknowledged the officer with a brief salute before he rushed from the Command Center.
"Damn those Slugs to Hell," muttered Serilda with venom.
A Mon Calamari heavy cruiser exploded under the combined fire of three Sluggorn battlespheres. Sheets of blue laser bolts from Sluggorn ships filled the space around Coruscant, destroying any Republic ship in their path. In ten minutes of combat over half of the New Republic warships were destroyed, while the starfighters sustained over sixty-percent casualties. Four Sluggorn battlespheres descended into orbit around Coruscant, then shuddered as dozens of planetary ion cannons and heavy laser batteries opened fire on them, severely damaging their shields. The Sluggorn returned fire with hundreds of concussion missiles, destroying ion cannons and several heavily-populated sections of Imperial City.
"Solar System is deployed and ready," reported a tech officer on the array's command ship.
"Aim the System at the heaviest concentration of enemy ships and prepare to fire," ordered the ship's captain.
"Target locked," said the tactical officer.
"Fire," ordered the captain.
The circular array of mirrors in orbit around the capital flared with reflected sunlight before it emitted a huge beam of destructive energy. The raging column of sunfire engulfed the bulk of the Sluggorn fleet, melting the battlespheres' hulls like soft caramel. The nova-hot assault disappeared in an instant, leaving a score of spheres where once hundreds had floated. The Sluggorn Command Orb staggered away from Coruscant with large stains of melted hull across its surface.
"Damage report!" demanded the First loudly within the smoke-filled bridge.
"Shields down to nine-percent. Primary weapons are offline. There is severe damage on decks eight through fourteen, and engine power is down sixty-eight percent," replied a shaken console operator.
"Open a channel to the orbiting battlespheres. Tell them to use fusion warheads and bombard the planet," ordered the First coldly.
"Yes, sir," acknowledged the bridge officer as he attempted to send a hyperspace message.
"That could have gone better," quipped Captain Berg sarcastically.
"You will be silent if you wish to continue living, human," hissed the First angrily.
"Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood," apologized Berg with a smug grin before he leaned back in his chair and watched the slugs slide frantically around the bridge.
"Send some ships to that damned array and destroy it," ordered the First as he sat back in his Command Pit, then monitored his crew's progress.
Three battlespheres shot towards the Solar System, firing bursts from turbolasers and salvos of proton torpedoes. Large sections of the System exploded in clouds of glittering glass, then the command ship blossomed into a cloud of plasma and metal debris from five torpedo hits. The spheres orbiting Coruscant launched dozens of large, fusion missiles, which slashed down to the planet's surface before exploding in blinding, sun-hot domes of destruction. The entire equator of Coruscant was engulfed by fusion blasts, scouring all life and construction from the world's surface.
"All New Republic defenses have been neutralized," reported a Sluggorn tactical officer.
"Excellent. Deploy dropships immediately to gather as many healthy females as possible," ordered the First.
"It will be done," replied the Tac officer.
"Well, you did it. You seized the capital of the New Republic," congratulated Captain Berg.
"Yes. Unfortunately, I can't hold it. I'll have to settle for taking as many females as I can and Jump out of your galaxy. My expeditionary fleet is in ruins," admitted the First pragmatically.
"Ain't that a bitch," replied Berg with a cold smile.
"I suggest that you take your payment and prepare to leave. The Fleet will be jumping into Hyperspace within the next twelve hours," advised the First.
"Gotcha," nodded Berg as he shot up from his chair and left the bridge.
"Stinking human filth," whispered the First to himself.
Mara Jade lay restlessly upon her soft bed, dressed in a transparent lingerie top and white, lace panties. The room's lights were set on low, barely illuminating the large, silk-draped chamber as Mara lay bonelessly upon her back with arms above her head and legs spread apart. Negligently, the red-haired girl moved her right hand down to her crotch and slowly rubbed her pussy. Enjoying the warm sensations from her bush, Mara rubbed her snatch harder, pulling her panties away from her questing fingers. Mara moaned softly as she squeezed her left breast through the thin fabric of her top, then she pulled the garment over her head and tossed it aside. Reclining against the headboard of her bed, Mara opened her firm thighs and ripped off her panties. Smiling with lust, the beautiful girl slid her long fingers across the surface of her warm pussy, making it throb with hunger. Mara lowered her head to lick her nipples into hardness, then bit her pink knobs wantonly. The horny girl pressed her head back as she inserted a delicate finger into her slit and began thrusting into her clenching fuckhole, making it wet with lubricant.
The naked girl was moaning with pleasure while she inserted a second finger into her dripping pussy, exploring her vagina with erotic abandon. Mara thrust her crotch onto her long fingers, fucking her probing digits as she gasped for air. Sweat glistened on Mara's pale, white skin as she licked her full, red lips and moaned with ecstasy. She removed her cum-drenched fingers, then brought them up to her mouth and sucked hungrily on them, relishing the taste of her own warm honey. Mara sat up, then got on her hands and knees before placing the fingers of her left hand atop her wet cunt. The red-haired girl caressed the firm flesh of her round ass, then she slid her fingers across her snatch before plunging them deeply into her honey pot. Mara grasped the headboard of her bed with her right hand while her other hand thrust into her cunt, filling her fucktunnel with pumping meat. The naked girl's mouth hung open as she grunted and groaned with lust, pushing her ass against her left hand as her fingers were devoured by her ravenous pussy. Mara's large, firm tits bobbed up and down while she finger-fucked herself, then she moaned loudly as she orgasmed, coating her hand with sticky cum. Mara sat up on her knees, then rubbed her jism across her tits before she licked her digits clean of honey. Grasping her own breasts roughly, Mara leaned down to lick her cum from her nipples and tits, arousing herself as she tasted her own sweet flesh.
"Prepare to make the jump into Hyperspace," ordered the First from his Command Pit.
"Sir, enemy ships entering the system!" reported a Tac officer.
"What are they?" demanded the First.
"Imperial Star Destroyers and TIE Defenders. There's a whole fleet of them!" replied the Sluggorn.
"Damn it to Hell!" spat the First in frustration. "Prepare to engage them!"
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4,524 | Equal Opportunity | "How did the interviews go?" asked Kathy, unbuttoning her blouse. Sitting on their bed, Jeff looked up, still lost in thought. "Did you find someone to help you?"
"Nope," he said, watching calmly as his wife unclasped her bra. "Tomorrow will be looking at four more applicants." Caught boyishly by the sight of Kathy's naked breasts, Jeff smiled slightly.
"That's too bad," she said, dropping her pants. "I thought you sounded hopeful this morning." Kathy tickled her faint brown muff and turned to step into the bathroom. Jeff watched his wife's bottom shake, always ready to appreciate her sensual charms.
"I was," he called out. "She looked good on paper, but it wouldn't have worked out." The water began to run, and Jeff heaved a deep sigh.
Two weeks had passed since he had finagled the Morgan case away from Epstein, and Jeff couldn't help but lament the days they'd wasted. It was beginning to seem impossible to find assistants who could help handle the convoluted legalisms that plagued the Morgan situation. With the booming economy, competition for skilled help offered them a shallow pool of applicants. This morning, finally, Jeff really thought the search was over.
He'd been sitting at his desk, reading over her resume again, trying to find an excuse not to hire this one on sight. Most applicants hadn't even been close; Jeff had turned away twenty. The work was starting to back up on him, but Jeff reminded himself each morning that bad help was worse than no help. The summer before, he'd been severely burned by the assistant Jack had hired for him, and Jeff didn't want that kind of trouble again. He'd spent six weeks undoing the mess Ben had made, three weeks more than it probably would have taken to just do the job by himself. Jeff scowled, adamant he would not go through that again.
But when Jeff read through the list of this applicant's qualifications again, he found constant reassurance in each well-chosen word. "Maybe," he thought, still afraid to be hopeful, "we can actually start to get some work done today."
Jeff took a deep breath when the intercom gave a familiar buzz, and Stacy said, "Beth Carter to see you, Mr. Walters." Jeff reached for the white button.
"Thanks, Stacy. Send her in."
Jeff started to stand as the young woman stepped into the doorway, but felt his knees weaken when she came full into view. Jeff's eyes opened wide, and he put a hand on his desk to help raise himself up.
"Mr. Walters?" she asked. Her voice sang pleasantly.
"Jeff," he said. His voice faltered. "Please, come in." He looked back down at the resume. "Elizabeth?"
"Beth Carter," she said, reaching forward in greeting. Jeff shook her soft hand lightly.
"Please," he said, already drifting down into his chair. "Have a seat."
Beth smiled and smoothed her plum suit skirt over her lean thigh with an elegance that pleased Jeff. "She'd give the team a real touch of class," he thought, imagining the impact such a smart-looking woman would have by his side when he met with the field group.
"I brought some writing samples," she said, opening a leather folder and withdrawing several sheets of paper.
"Good," Jeff said, reaching over the desk to take the documents. Looking up from the well-crafted prose, he caught the anxious stare of her bright blue gaze. A rush of heat invigorated his heartbeat.
"This is excellent," he said, reacting honestly as he deliberately read another paragraph. Jeff looked up at the woman and saw a faint blush color her soft cheeks.
"Thank you," Beth said. "I wrote those when I worked for Myer and Baker."
"Right," Jeff said, pulling out her resume again. "They're a good firm. Can I ask you why you left?"
"They weren't challenging me," Beth said, seriously. Jeff could imagine her speaking with such insistence to someone like Jenkins or even Bradford. "I mean, I have nothing against the paperwork and such, that's just part of the business, but they seemed to shy away from tackling real problems. I want to work hard and have something to be proud of when I'm done."
Jeff nodded knowingly, recognizing with delight his own attitude. He smiled wryly. "What makes you think a job here will be any different than the one you had with Don Myers?"
"That's why I applied for this position. Frankly, Mr. Walters, I could probably find a higher paying job over at someplace like Witherspoon Gaddis, but I'm not looking to play a social, client shmoozing role. Not yet, anyway. From what I've seen of your work, and of you, I believe I can find what I'm looking for here."
"Challenges?"
"You're getting ready to handle the Morgan case, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Jeff.
"You're going to fight it, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm not at liberty. . . ."
"If you aren't going to fight," Beth said sternly, "then please don't hire me. I want to put on the gloves and get in the ring with that one. If you're just going to file settlements, I can get that somewhere else."
Jeff leaned forward, excited by her fire. "Good," he said emphatically. "I like your attitude, Miss Carter." Without thinking, he noticed the absence of a ring on her left hand's fourth finger. "It would mean hard work, and probably some long hours, at least for the next few months."
"I'm hoping it would," she said, smiling, flush with enthusiasm. As she leaned forward, Jeff noticed the gold cross at her breastbone, and then a glimpse of the untanned curve just beneath the edge of her blouse. He swallowed deliberately.
"Evenings, some weekends," he said, his throat dry. He picked up the glass of water on his desk and, as he took a sip, he remembered the long evenings he had spent working with Ben. He remembered the proximity of his assistant as they pored over the figures for some indicia of intent, Ben's head almost on his shoulder, the dull scent of the young man's cologne irritating him immeasurably as the nights wore on.
Jeff put the glass down and looked at Beth. She nodded and smiled. Her breasts weren't big, but they had substance. Jeff imagined the way they would press against his arm as she leaned over to show him some passage that needed explanation. Beth pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jeff could almost smell the delectable aroma.
"We'll probably have to take two or three trips to Atlanta this spring, and there's a chance we'd have to spend a few weeks in Oregon."
"I know," Beth said. "I know what the work is like. At this point, Mr. Walters. . ."
"Jeff," he said quietly, smiling.
"Jeff," she repeated with an indulgent grin, "at this point, I want to log some miles and put in the hours. My life is relatively free of commitments right now, and I want to put this time to good use. I don't know, maybe it's hard to believe, but I want to get my hands dirty working in the field. I'm not saying this to get a job. I can get a job. I just happen to know where I stand right now. I imagine there will be a day when I want something less taxing. But for now, I'm a young woman. I want the chance to learn from people who know and also to prove what I'm made of."
Jeff nodded. He imagined for a brief moment the first week in February, when they'd go to Atlanta. He imagined carrying his suitcase into the hotel. He remembered the trip with Ben to Montreal, sitting at the hotel table most of the night getting ready for the meeting at Lystar. Jeff cleared his throat.
"Well, Miss Carter," he began.
"Beth," she corrected with a friendly laugh.
"Everything looks good," he said. "I'm going to have to talk this over with Jack, I think they told me you met him already."
"Sure," she said.
"But we should be in touch with you soon." Jeff stood and held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he said.
"Likewise," Beth said, standing and touching his hand with hers.
Sitting on his bed, Jeff trembled slightly as he remembered watching the young woman leave his office, leering at the way her skirt moved when she walked.
"What's the matter, Hon?" Kathy asked, toweling off her hair.
"Nothing," said Jeff. "I'm just not sure I did the right thing."
"About?"
"Well, the woman I interviewed was probably as good as I'm going to get, and I can't help wishing I could have hired her."
"Why didn't you?" Kathy asked, sitting down on the bed.
"I don't know," said Jeff. "I think it was because she's a woman." Kathy hit her husband on the leg.
"That doesn't sound like you, Jeff," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"I know. I could even get in trouble, I mean, if she filed an EEO complaint, I'd have a hard time explaining."She was really well qualified."
"Then why didn't you hire her?"
"Kathy," he said, his voice implying his reasons, "if you'd seen her, you'd understand."
"Oh," said Kathy, catching hold of his unspoken thought. "Well, then, I'm proud of you." She smiled gaily and crawled up the bed. "You're a good husband," she said, teasing the stiffening member shrouded within his pajamas. Jeff sighed.
"Lead me not into temptation," he said softly. Kathy extracted his prick from its confines and kissed the round knob atop the hard staff. Her tongue played along his pale cockskin.
"You'll find someone," she promised, tickling Jeff's balls as she let the rod descend into her mouth. Bringing it back out, she looked up at her husband. "Are you going to get in trouble?"
"I don't think so," Jeff said. "I told Jack I couldn't work with her and he said he could take care of it."
"Jack will take care of it," Kathy echoed, suckling down her good husband's dick.
"Yeah," Jeff said, closing his eyes, "that's the way."
"Look, Jeff," Jack had said later that day, "I looked over her resume and I think you're nuts. Beth is really too good to let get away and she really wants to work with us. So I hope you don't mind, but I hired her as my assistant. I'll let her get started on the Morgan case while you keep looking for another hand. She won't be reporting to you, so you don't have to worry about that. She'll sit at Louise's old desk, and you can start briefing her tomorrow after your interviews are finished." Jack smacked him on the back. "And don't worry. I told her you recommended her for the senior assistant position and threw in another five grand. I think she's worth it."
Jeff felt the stroke of Kathy's tongue down his prick, but his thoughts filled with mad visions of Beth's bright smiling eyes and her tits and her ass and her lean, stockinged legs and the sweet subtle fragrance as Beth bent down close to help him understand the operative fucking rule.
Each day and each evening, sitting ten yards past his door and always in sight and Atlanta still waiting just a few weeks away.
"Oh, God," Jeff moaned as he thrust his prick up and felt his hot fountain erupt in spurts of wild lust. Kathy eagerly drank the thick wanton flow. As his wife smiled, licking her lips, Jeff shuddered and silently groaned, "please help me." | 2 |
4,544 | Red Rain | "So," I said nervously, "this is nice."
It was like something out of the Twilight Zone. The three women I was having dinner with might as well have been clones, each at a different stage of development.
I was seated at the head of the dining table, with Camille on my right and Casey at my left. Stacey, the older girl, was next to Casey, further down along the table.
At least the food was excellent: spaghetti in a rich red sauce that had bits of sausage in it, with stuffed mushrooms and garlic bread on the side. There was a bottle of Corbel, too, but Camille was drinking most of it herself.
"So, uh, Casey, you like baseball, huh?"
Casey, who had just slurped up one long noodle, liberally spattering her face with tomato paste, just rolled her eyes as if I'd asked the stupidest question on earth. Stacey snorted loudly.
"Our father likes baseball," Camille answered sharply.
"I do, too!" Casey insisted.
"You know," I interjected, "I couldn't help wondering..."
"Daddy wasn't invited," Casey said, answering my question before it had been asked in a small, sad little voice.
"Father remarried after mother died," Camille explained, seeing my curious look. "I don't get along well with her."
"Stacey says Barbara's a 'cunt'!" Casey added. Both her sisters shouted at her in unison.
"You little troll!" Stacey added, punching the girl in the arm.
"Stacey!" Camille barked furiously, banging her fists down on the table hard, rattling the china. I suddenly wished she wasn't hogging all the champagne.
Casey murmured darkly, rubbing her arm.
"You know," I said, again desperate to change the subject, "this meal is terrific!"
"Get used to it, Stud," Stacey muttered. "Everything else she makes tastes like bat barf!"
Camille didn't say anything, but she glared murderously at her younger sibling. In spite of the tension, Casey giggled a little at "bat barf."
Camille poured herself another glass while the rest of us quietly stared at our plates, occasionally shoveling a forkload of pasta into our mouths.
"So tell me, Stud..." Stacey began.
"Will you please stop calling him that!" Camille snapped.
Undaunted, the girl ignored her sister and looked me straight in the eye.
"So how did you two meet?"
"At a party, actually," I said as Camille knocked back half of her refreshed flute.
"Were you drunk?" she asked, giving Camille a dirty look from the corner of her eye.
"Not particularly," I answered. Camille had her hands in her lap, curled up into tight little fists. I reached under the table, took her left hand in my right, and gave it a reassuring little squeeze.
Stacey seemed disappointed, and quietly went back to her dinner. Casey carefully placed both hands around her glass of milk and lifted it to her lips. When she set the glass back down, a deep, heady belch escaped her.
"Good one!" Stacey laughed.
"What do we say, Casey?" Camille said sternly.
"Sorry," the little girl answered meekly.
"Jesus, Camilla," Stacey shot back, angrily. "Like you're so perfect you never burp or cut the cheese!"
Camille glared at Stacey, but the girl went on, addressing me directly.
"I hope you know your girlfriend shits milk white chocolate!"
A stunned silence fell over the table.
"Is that with... or without almonds?" I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently.
Stacey's jaw dropped open, and Camille looked at me with open shock. Then the teenager broke into a wild, almost hyena-like, laughter. I joined her, chuckling affably, giving Camile's hand another squeeze. Casey joined in, not quite getting the joke, but not wanting to be left out.
Even Camille managed a tight smile at her own expense.
We ate the rest of the meal in good spirits. As Camille got up to bring out the sherbet, I felt a sudden urge to try again with the small talk.
"So, what time is Camille taking you two home tonight?"
"She's, uh, not," Stacey replied, her eyes darting around evasively.
"I'm not what?" Camille asked, returning from the kitchen.
When I told her, she made a strange face.
"Well, Casey is staying until Sunday," she explained, looking intently at Stacey. "And I just assumed Stacey would just drive herself home."
"I, uh, didn't see a car out there..." I said nervously. Stacey gave me a dark look and Camille's tension returned with a vengeance.
"What happened to your car?" Camille demanded icily.
"Geez! It was just a little fender-bender! You don't have to get all postal about it! Carly's going to pick me up at ten!"
"You mean your stoner friend?"
I shifted in my chair, suddenly very uncomfortable. I caught Casey's eye and we regarded each other, embarrassed.
"Wanna see my baseball cards?" she asked quietly. I nodded eagerly, and she took my hand and led me away from the burgeoning war zone.
She led me to the stairs, and for an instant, I had a horrifying vision of her calmly leading me by the hand down the stairs, to that place of darkness; her piping, melancholic voice the last thing that I would hear as the door slams shut, saying, "We look like everyone else."
Thankfully, she led me up the stairs instead, to the second bedroom which had, up until then, registered in my consciousness as little more than a closed door next to the bathroom.
The room was much like her sister's next door, save for the fact that the furnishings were all obviously reproductions, instead of genuine antiques, and all painted in a matching white. There were pennants on the walls, all Cubs, and a bookcase whose shelves were filled with binders on the lower levels and a few assorted plastic figurines on the upper ones.
"This isn't my real collection," she said, stressing the word "real." "These are just my doubles. My real collection's at home."
She picked out a binder and we walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the pink, quilted comforter. I looked at pictures of people I didn't know, and listened to stats I could care less about. The more she went on, the more she relaxed.
"Do you get to see a lot of games?"
"I used to, all the time," she said, the glum quality returning to her voice. "But now daddy spends all his time with Barbara." She said the name like a child's taunt.
"So... I guess you stay over here a lot?" I asked, looking around the room again. After all, sweet as she was, she did represent a possible hitch in my blossoming sex life.
She shrugged. "Every other weekend or so. I think Camilla wants to be my mommy."
I looked down at her, surprised at her insight.
We sat quietly for a moment, the binder still open in her lap. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my billfold.
"You wanna see something?" I asked, unfolding the worn cowhide.
She nodded, looking between me and the wallet with avid curiosity.
"Okay," I began, "this is a true story. Before I was born, my parents lived in New York City..."
"Yankees!" she said, breaking into a heartbreakingly innocent grin.
"Exactly," I said, returning the smile. "Anyway, my grandfather was a taxi driver. Was his whole life. And people were always leaving stuff behind in his cab. Jackets, money, umbrellas..." I left out used condoms and hypodermics.
"The day I was born, right before he got the news, in fact, he was cleaning out his cab from that morning, and he found this - " I handed her the card, and her eyes became as big as saucers - "wedged down into the back seat."
The card had been bent in half, the corners were dog-eared, and the border had severe foxing, but none of that mattered to her.
"Joe DiMaggio," she whispered reverently. I nodded.
"My grandfather always kept it in his wallet after that. Considered it his good luck charm. When he died he passed it on to me."
I saw the way her eyes sparkled, the way her tiny hands trembled as she held the ratty old thing, tenderly, yet clinging to it for dear life.
"You like that, huh?" I asked. She looked up at me with newfound respect, and nodded solemnly.
"You can keep it, if you like."
"Jordan, no!I looked over at the sound of Camille's voice and saw her standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, looking at me in the same awestruck way that her sister was.
Casey jumped off the bed, calling out to her sister and brandishing her newfound treasure like the Holy Grail itself.
"Look Camilla, look! Joe DiMaggio! Joe DiMaggio!"
I laughed and stood up slowly. Camille was saying "Yes, that's nice," without ever looking at the card. Instead, she kept her eyes on me the whole time.
"I can't let you..." she began.
"Aw, it's pretty beat up. You can barely make out the autograph."
Casey shrieked with excitement and immediately began thoroughly inspecting the card for the faded remnants of ink.
"Jordan, it must still be worth..."
Ignoring her, I turned to Casey.
"Hold out your hand," I said.
She did, giving me a funny look, and I gave her a quick low-five.
"Slapjack," I said in the parlance of my own childhood, "no tradebacks!"
"What's that mean?" she asked, puzzled.
I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, but not so low that Camille couldn't hear me.
"That means she can't make you give it back."
Casey started dancing around the room, while Camille still glared at me with resigned irritation. I smiled and gave her a fleeting kiss. She sighed, gave me a look that indicated she didn't know if she wanted to hug me or punch me in the nose, and then leaned in and gave me a second, longer kiss.
"It's past your bedtime!" she said loudly, resting her forehead against my chest.
"Awww!"
"Say good night to Jordan, please," Camille said, pushing herself away from me reluctantly.
The little girl walked over to me and stared up with those huge, sad eyes.
"Good night, Jordan."
I smiled warmly back at her. "Night, Casey."
Then Camille shooed me from the room as she began giving orders for Casey to prepare for bed.
I strolled down the stairs with a goofy grin on my face. There was a cool breeze through the living room, and it carried a smell I still remembered from college.
Stacey was on the back deck, the joint clenched between her lips. She looked over her shoulder at me as I stepped through the open sliding glass door.
"Pretty expensive bribe for your girlfriend's kid sister, don't you think, stud?" she asked, taking a long drag.
She exhaled a cloud of noxious smoke and tried to smile at me seductively.
"Makes me wonder what you've got for me!"
"You heard all that, did you?" I asked, leaning up against the rail beside her.
She nodded, and offered me the cigarette.
"Want some?"
I shook my head and she shrugged her shoulders as if it were no skin off her ass.
"I don't know," I mumbled, turning to stare out over the placid, gray surface of the lake. The air was cool, but it had lost the bite of the previous days' chill.
"Maybe it was a bit much, but fuck it! By the time I have kids, baseball will be so far out of it that they won't even care who Joe DiMaggio was. Hell, I only really know about him from the card, and 'Mrs. Robinson.'"
"Who's Mrs. Robinson?" Stacey asked. I turned my head slightly, to see if she was yanking me. She wasn't.
"So tell me," I said, turning back to face her; leaning up against the rail on one elbow, "why do you enjoy busting your sister's balls so much?"
"Maybe because she always acts like she has balls," she said, taking one long, final drag. She flicked the remainder away towards the lake; a cascade of sparks flitting through the air before being swallowed up by the night.
"She's a bitch," she said, blowing out a last, billowing plume up into the air. "She deserves it. You could do better."
"Why? You know someone who's available?"
She smiled enigmatically, and was on the verge of responding when the distant crunch of tires on the gravel drive interrupted; followed by the grating bleat of a horn.
"Gotta jet, stud," she said, backing away, still smiling. "You watch out for those almonds, now. They get stuck between your teeth!"
She winked, and disappeared around the prow of the house. A few seconds later, the car tore out of the drive loudly, with a gratuitous flourish of the horn.
Silence slowly settled down over things again. I turned back to the lake and lost myself in its depths for a while. Eventually I heard Camille close the sliding glass door behind me. She took one breath and swore sharply.
"God damn her!"
She leaned up against the rail next to me and sighed mournfully.
"Well, I guess I should be happy it's just weed and not heroin... yet, anyway."
I cocked my eyebrow and looked at her sidelong.
"What are you? Joe Friday? Weed!"
She laughed, too. "Mary Jane!"
"Whacky Tobaccy," I said in a slow, southern drawl and we both broke into laughter that lasted a long time.
When the laughing had run its course, she sighed and took my hand.
"Walk with me," she said, leading me down the steps. We walked hand in hand along the shore, moving steadily away from the house.
We kept going until her house was just a vague, dark shape at the end of the beach. We stopped a few yards before the strand gave way to hills and grass and the shoreline curved back towards the more densely packed beach houses.
The moon was waxing, but it still wasn't very full. Starlight reflected off the mirrored surface of the lake and frolicked in the depths of her eyes.
"I want to do something," she said, biting her lower lip and glancing back anxiously at the house. I turned my head and looked around. Even if Casey were to wander out onto the deck, she still probably couldn't see anything clearly that far away in the dark.
"Take off your pants."
I didn't need to be told twice. In seconds my khakis, only one of two pairs I owned, lay in a wadded heap in the sand, along with my briefs.
Camille put her hands on my shoulders and gently eased me down onto the cool, gritty sand. I laid on my back, staring up at her with breathless anticipation. Billowing her long skirt like a tent, she stepped astride my bare legs, and let the fabric of the skirt cover my nakedness, the hem reaching all the way up to my chest as she squatted down over my cock.
"Just so you know," she informed me, grunting from the strain on her legs as she held her position, "I did not go through dinner bare-assed! I took them off before coming out on the deck!"
With that, she awkwardly began thrusting her uncovered pussy around; blindly trying to connect with my penis.
When the head of my dick brushed up against the moistened lips of her sex, I shuddered and had to suppress a sudden, premature eruption. It took a little more, entirely thrilling, fine tuning, but finally she was able to steer me inside of her, and with a last, heavy sigh, she dropped on top of me unceremoniously, our pubic bones banging together painfully.
She didn't lose herself in passion, as she always had before, but rather rode me with a look of fixed concentration on her features, sitting bolt upright, her whole frame trembling a little from the exertion. The only complaint I had was that the sand dug into my ass mercilessly.
After a few minutes of thrusting and groaning, she slowed her already leisurely pace and looked me directly in the eyes.
"Hold very still," she said, deadly serious.
She began lifting herself up off my cock, stopping halfway. She kept herself in that position, again, showing the obvious strain of doing so.
She smiled, a chilling, wicked smile.
The orgasm hit me, literally hit me, so fast and so hard that I lost all conscious awareness of everything around me for several minutes afterwards. It was as if she had, in one unbelievable maneuver, managed to envelop my cock, my balls, my thighs, my pubis - all of it - in the searing, wet juices of her womanhood. The hardest hit was the penis itself, experiencing a rush of heat and wetness unlike anything I'd ever felt in all my life.
I lay there on the beach, dizzy and gasping for air.
Camille chuckled to herself and lifted her body off of mine. As her skirt swept away, the dampness, which had so warmed and thrilled my entire lower region a minute previously, started to turn cold and clammy when exposed to the night air.
I suddenly realized just what she had done, and it sent a second chill racing through me. I began to squirm, my ass sloshing around in the soaked sand.
Camille leaned into my field of vision, cheeks flush, eyes bright and grinning from ear to ear.
"Still think people who get off on watersports are freaks?" | 1 |
4,558 | Flash | "He's whacking his meat again. The sound of him playing with himself woke me up," remarked Doctor Zarkov as he crawled out of the small bunk in the rear of the rocket's small living area. Shaking his head as if Hurley's not-so-discreet actions displeased him, the bearded doctor moved forward toward the co-pilot's chair.
There was a faint smile on Dale's pretty lips as she brought the doctor up to date on what occurred while he was sleeping. "That's the third time in a little over five hours for him, but who's counting? I know from my own personal experience that coming off the erection-inhibitor pills can be very frustrating if there's not a ready source for physical release. I can easily imagine how frustrating it must be for him at this stage of his withdrawal symptoms, especially with my female body present to act as a catalyst for constantly reminding him of his pent-up frustrations. He's not hit on me yet because he knows damn well what my answer will be - 'FUCKING NO' - because I've already told him that I'll never have sex with any man. But that doesn't stop him from looking at me like a horny dog and imagining what it would be like to screw me. Just before he rushed to the bathroom this time to masturbate again, he told me that I even smelled like a woman."
Pulling his pipe out of his pocket and holding the unlit pipe, the doctor mused, "Pheromones. In this small, cooped-up living quarters, your female body produces enough pheromones to make a battalion of Marines go AWOL. I've also noticed the same wonderful smell quite occasionally, and it's had the same physical effect on me. Thank god that I'm so fucking old and decrepit that I can't get it up as often as I did when I was a young horny stud, or I would be back there with the cook, hatching a nefarious scheme with him to use a Tractor-Grazer on you. You've got to admit that your female body is worth fantasizing about. Well, it's good to see that our cook's not shy about expressing his frustration. When they keep their frustration pent up, it becomes more difficult to maintain a healthy equilibrium. Has he flirted with you yet?"
"You will know if he does. Just check his eyes out. If one's swollen and bruised, then he crossed the line."
"Look, you and I go a long way back, and I'm the only person who knows how this ungodly daily transformation into two different bodies has affected you mentally. I know that when you're in her body, you feel all of her urges, desires, physical itches and frustrations - both mentally and physically. I've seen you go into the bathroom and take a long shower too many times to suspect that you're really that interested in having a clean body. She was only human, and so are you. If the situation was reversed and it was the real Dale sitting here beside me, I would give her the same advice. Don't go months without sex, especially when you're getting ready to put your life on the line again. No matter what the stupid official government studies indicate, sex can be very beneficial if done under the right circumstances. They banned it in space simply because they didn't want to have to deal with uncontrolled sex, such as rape and problems associated with pregnancy, diseases or jealousy on a long space voyage. If I was a young, virile man, I would've already offered myself as a solution to the problems that you're ignoring day after day; but I'm lucky if my little pee spout gets hard enough where it can fit into my hand, much less squeeze into a tight body cavity. That young cook back there has a serious problem caused by drugs that our government fed him to keep him flaccid and behaving himself. Coming off the drugs right now, he could keep it hard for hours and make a woman real happy. I guess that I'm trying to advise you as your friend and as your doctor that you need to rethink some of your decisions about how you're going to handle your dual lifestyle as Dale and Flash. You could solve some of your own problems by helping him with his problem. After all, a good man is hard to find, so it's also true that a hard man is good to find on this small rocket, especially with the type of problems that you face daily."
The smile disappeared from her face, and her lips tightened as he openly discussed a taboo subject that she had previously decreed as 'banned'. A ban that the doctor frequently ignored. She recognized that he knew when she was masturbating within the privacy of the small bathroom. That small relief with her hand was her only concession to the strong sexual urges that she felt when she was Dale. And she felt that urge almost daily now. When he was Flash, he also masturbated in the shower as he pretended that it was the real Dale he was making love to, instead of his right hand. When he was Dale, she pretended that she was spreading her thighs around the man of her dreams - her male self. That image came from the real Dale's memories where she really enjoyed making love to Flash, so it was very easy to use those old memories as the basis for the new masturbation fantasies. She knew that the female masturbation frequently got very vocal and loud within the small shower, but Zarkov had always pretended that he hadn't noticed before.
Knowing that she had to face the problem sooner or later that he was describing, she ran a hand nervously through the thick mane of dark hair as she confessed to her good friend, "There are times when I think that I'm really her. When I do some of the personal things, such as brush my hair, or spend a little time on my nails, or...." They both knew what she was avoiding mentioning.
She continued in a timid, almost hurting sounding voice, "I find myself drifting into thinking that I'm really her...that I feel as if I had been born as Dale Arden. I pray for those moments because I become her so much that I forget about who I really am. Because when I remember that I'm really Flash Gordon in her borrowed body, feeling her pains and pleasures, thinking the thoughts that she would've thought, that hurts so much that I can't stand it. Yes, I do masturbate myself because I can't help myself. I don't do it as often as I would like to, but it definitely relieves some of my frustration and makes it easier for me to stare at my borrowed face in the mirror or to look down at my chest to see her beautiful tits. One of the things that Dale and I used to enjoy when we had time to relax, was oral sex. So when I'm Dale and in the privacy of the bathroom..I frequently finger myself to a high state of arousal as I lick my fingers clean and pretend it's her jism coated fingers that I'm sucking."
Zarkov coughed and stared at his trousers as he commented, "Wow. I haven't been this hard in a long time. Just hearing you describe that was enough to bring a spark of life back to what I thought was dead meat."
Dale turned her chair and stared at the instrument panel as if the subject was instantly closed. Recognizing that he probably made a mistake, Zarkov continued, "Sorry about that personal observation, but as long as we were airing our problems, I thought that it was important that you know that my cock also considers you to be a total woman."
Laughing out loud at her friend's crude but honest compliment, she spun her chair again to face him. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to lean forward and kiss him, which is what the real Dale would've done. She smiled at him and whispered, "My good friend...if I ever decide to have sex as a woman with a man, you will be at the top of my short list of men that I would share my bed with."
Rubbing his now-obvious erection through the thin trousers, the Doctor commented, "This is the worst day of my life. I spend months in the company of one of the world's most beautiful women who's totally dedicated to her misguided principles as applies to 'romps in the hay' with men. So what if she's sexually frustrated and spends a lot of time pumping herself? Then one day she says something which turns me on so much that I feel like a twenty-year-old stud."My penis turns into a cock again, and what happens? She still turns down my bedroom request, and some horny cook is back in the only bathroom whacking his meat for only the third time in five hours, so I can't take advantage of my condition. If we can't have sex, how about if I drop my trousers and we take a picture of my manhood because I don't think it'll ever get this hard again at my age.
They burst out laughing. Two old friends sharing a man-to-man joke that only they would think as being funny. They didn't know that the cook had just come out of the bathroom barely in time to watch the doctor rubbing his erection and to see the beautiful young smiling woman laughing at his speech. From the look on the cook's face, he certainly didn't think whatever they were laughing about was funny.
The doctor heard the door open and spun his chair. Yelling "Gangway" in a joking manner, he rushed toward the open door of the bathroom. He skipped around Corporal Hurley as he unfastened his trousers and pulled the bathroom door shut behind him.
Corporal Hurley felt that he had come in on the punchline and that he needed to hear the joke. He sat down in the just vacated chair and noticed that Dale's chest was bobbing slightly as she continued to laugh at the doctor's unexpected childlike antics. Hurley could only stare at her laughing lips and gleaming eyes as he observed a personal side of the transformed Dale Arden that he hadn't seen so far. Up to now, Dale had been just as ramrod straight and somber as her alternating Flash personality. Looking at the vibrant-looking woman sitting beside him, he felt a strong sexual desire for her. A desire that he thought he had just temporarily cured with his only-minutes-before trip to the bathroom.
He clenched his fingernails into the palms of his hands, hoping that the minor pain would restore control to the big head, stripping control back from the little head that was taking total control of his body and mouth. He knew that he shouldn't say what he felt like saying, but he felt his lips open and heard the crude but true words come out of his mouth: "I want to fuck you."
Her laughter instantly ceased. The gleam in her eyes disappeared, and a seriousness made her eyes look dangerous - like a caged tiger. Her lips tightened, and her breasts quit heaving from the mirth. Turning her chair to face him, she spoke in the command-type voice that they teach officers: "It'll never happen. Forget about it and resume your lessons. We're getting closer to Mongo and need to concentrate on improving your skills."
Corporal Hurley had been chosen to become a cook by the military because he wasn't too good at thinking on his feet. Instead of taking her suggestion and shutting up as ordered, he continued digging his grave even deeper as he sneered, "You want me as much as I want you, but you won't admit it to yourself. I saw the look on your face when you were trying to warm my frozen body. You enjoyed it when I rubbed my hard cock against you, didn't you?"
The hybrid Flash/Dale's mind was whirling with confusing thoughts. Unexpectedly, the Dale portion of her mind was thinking, "Yes, I need a man, and I did enjoy the sensation when you unexpectedly rubbed your cock against me," while the Flash portion was thinking, "Man, you're about to get your ass kicked for even thinking about jumping in bed with me." Adding to the confusion was the familiar strong itch that Dale was feeling between her legs that she had learned how to satisfy within the privacy of the bathroom. She recognized that her internal 'little head' was thinking for her, just as much as Hurley's cock was speaking for him.
Knowing that she didn't want to have this confrontation, she stood up and stepped toward the rear of the rocket to get away from him and to give herself a little time to think. But before she could get more than one step away from the pilot's seat, he caught her hand and used his stronger strength to spin her back into his open arms. Before she could physically resist his manhandling of her, his hands went around her waist, pinning her within his grasp as his lips pressed against her shocked lips. Stunned by the suddenness of his unanticipated actions and by the unexpected strong emotions racking her totally female body, she offered only minimal resistance. Her mind was screaming, "THIS IS WHAT YOU REALLY WANT. FUCK HIS BRAINS OUT, THEN STOMP THE SHIT OUT OF HIM FOR BEING SO DAMN AGGRESSIVE."
When his tongue probed through her easily spread lips, she offered no resistance because she knew that Hurley and Zarkov were both right about the frustration that she tried to hide. She needed sex. Real sex, not that temporary masturbation as she tried to satisfy her body's demands.
When he pressed his pelvis hard against her vaginal mound and she felt the hard cock sticking straight up within his trousers mashing tightly against her body, she unexpectedly responded by pressing her own pelvis firmly against his pelvis and purposefully matched his gyrating pressure. The hard cock pressed tightly between their close bodies, and all she could think about was how wonderfully warm she felt in her raging body and how much she wanted his cock. A small part of her brain was whimpering, "I shouldn't be doing this," but the larger part of her brain was shouting, "YES. YES. YES, LET ME HAVE IT," while her body was screaming, "I NEED THIS. I WANT TO BE FUCKED. NOW!!!" As a result of all those confusing thoughts, she felt her legs spread slightly to allow his warm masculine leg to slip in between her spread thighs.
She tilted her head upward to meet his face and used her probing tongue to hungrily explore inside his mouth as his hands cupped her breasts, causing another fantastic sexual sensation. She fought the strong womanly urge to pull his head down to her boobs and let him nuzzle her. Instead, she dug her fingernails into the back of his head and held his lips tightly against her lips as she tried to delay the inevitable by not going any further than she had already permitted.
She felt him guide her backwards against a wall where he pinned her. She enjoyed the dual sensation of the hardness of the wall pressing against her back and the hardness of his cock pressing against her strong internal itch. She felt his hands pull her blouse out of her trousers, and his hands slid up under her blouse as his fingers explored her belly on the way up to her breasts. She felt his large fingers force their way up under the already tight bra and push the bra up her chest, exposing the warm heavy boobs to the coolness of the room air.
If Flash was happy when the Dale side of their joined memories was completely in control, such as when she was brushing her hair, then Flash would have been ecstatic over how much of Dale's personality was in control at that moment. It was Dale's female mind that was reacting to Hurley's hungry mouth nipping on her exposed boobs. It was Dale's mind that was guiding her legs to tightly clench around the Corporal's legs as they did what teenagers called 'air-fucking'. Both bodies were humping each other as they leaned against a wall, but there wasn't anything eased into Dale's body other than a tongue in the mouth - YET!
She felt one of her legs rise and try to wrap around his waist, but she didn't care that her hormones were controlling her actions instead of her brain. She felt her back arch as she puffed out her breasts so she could let the hungry man roughly suck and squeeze the sensitive flesh. She felt him let go of her nipple with his teeth and step back. She groaned and reached for his head to pull his lips back to her chest, but his stronger arms pushed her back. She could see the lust in his eyes and knew that the same lust was in her eyes.
Then she watched him in slow motion as he grabbed her blouse and ripped it open, popping the buttons. She stepped forward and shook her arms to help him undress her as he guided the torn clothing from her body. As she merged back tightly against his body again, she felt his hands unsnap her bra, and she stepped back momentarily, holding up her arms so he could pull it up over her head.
Like a tiger on the prowl, she reciprocated his actions by grabbing his shirt and pulling it up, ripping the buttons as she tried to undress him. He grabbed his shirt from her hands and proceeded to rip it from his body as she nuzzled her face against his hairy chest.
The feel of the hairy chest rubbing against her face as she licked his male nipples did several things. It eased some of the sexual tension that she was feeling. But it also enabled some of Flash's mind to think about what was occurring. Dale's mind was saying, "We're two animals, and we're going to fuck all night," while Flash's mind was trying to stay focused upon, "I'm kissing a man's hairy chest. STOP!"
Hurley grabbed Dale's hand and started pulling her toward the small cot. That simple action was just enough of a 'we are going to do it' signal for more of Flash's mind to take control again. Dale resisted for just a second so that the Flash portion of her mind could think about what was getting ready to occur.
And Hurley screwed up. Instead of continuing to saturate the confused woman's over-worked mind with kisses and gentle sensations, he jerked his trousers down and reached for the back of Dale's head to force her mouth down to his cock.
She couldn't stop his stronger downward push, but she could divert the downward push just enough to miss the target that her head was being aimed at. She twisted away from him into a spinning spiral so that as her body spun around, her boot-clad foot went spinning straight toward his jaw. With a loud thud, her foot collided hard with his face.For a second, he stood there dazed, then his knees collapsed as he passed out from her forceful kick. Like a falling tree, he fell where he had tried to drag her - on top of the bunk.
The bathroom door opened and a quite jovial Doctor Zarkov came out of the bathroom, laughing at some private joke that he thought of while attending to his personal needs. But he quit laughing at the unexpected sight that greeted him. A semi-nude Dale Arden was standing over an unconscious Corporal Hurley whose trousers were down around his ankles. And the young Corporal's big erection was sticking straight up in the air.
Turning his attention to the young woman who was angrily staring at the erection as if she was thinking about grabbing a knife and cutting the damn thing off, the Doctor noticed that her naked chest was a mixture of red and white coloring as if there had been some very recent strenuous groping of her body. The thick nipples showed that her body had enjoyed the manhandling.
Deciding that he needed to try to make light of whatever occurred between the two of them while he was in the bathroom attending to his own personal needs, he tried to tell an impromptu joke. Pointing at the unconscious man's large erection, he joked "I was proud of my little erection until I saw that thing on him. What happened?"
She picked up her bra from the floor and began putting it on as she declared in a solemn tone of voice with just a hint of suppressed anger "You were partially right. He's hard but as long as he's got erection problems, he's not going to be too good. Do we have any erection-inhibitor pills anywhere that we can start him on while he's on this ship with us?"
"No, because I don't need them and you've always been against them."
Picking up her ripped blouse, she declared in a strong, angry voice "That was when they used them against me and made me take them. But now I can easily see why the government mandates their use on every ship. The Corporal taught me a lot about myself and life that I didn't know."
"Uhhh, just because you have one bad experience with a man doesn't mean that all experiences will be bad. You and I both know that it was the drugs that drove him to do whatever he did."
In one quick step, she pushed the doctor hard back against the wall, pinning him just as she had been pinned against the same wall by Hurley only seconds earlier. Before Doctor Zarkov could react from the unexpected close quarters of her semi-naked body pressing hard against him, her hot mouth closed over his mouth. Not being a fool, he didn't resist her kiss or unexpected body pressing against his body and quickly felt the wonderful pleasure of her tongue penetrating his mouth. For several seconds, he was too stunned to do anything but enjoy the woman's quick flickering tongue within his mouth and the hard firm womanly breasts mashed against his chest. Her hot tongue within his mouth, revealed her flaming passion that she was fighting to control.
Just as quick as their kiss started, she also ended it by pulling away and declaring in a husky voice "Sorry but I feel very aggressive and horny right now, thanks to our friend's overly aggressive stimulation of my body. I didn't know it until he showed me that I have feelings that I've been suppressing, but it appears from my reaction that I really do need to have some sex when I'm in this body. When and if I get fucked by a man, I want it to be because I want to fuck that someone; not because they want to fuck me and are physically superior to me. You're still the top of my short list and if anyone gets willingly into my panties, it's going to be you. And you're right. I do need some sex but I'm not ready for that sex to be with another person yet..especially if that other person is a man. Now if you'll watch our friend to make sure that he behaves himself when he wakes up, I'm going to go take a looooooonnnnnggggg shower. I need a good long masturbation at this moment."
Dropping her blouse on the floor, she reached behind her and unsnapped the bra that she had just put on. She gave a quick shake of her body and let the delicate garment fall to the floor. Stepping back toward the doctor who was still leaning against the wall, she pressed her firm breasts against the stunned doctor's chest. She dug her fingernails into the back of his skull, then guided his bearded face down against her soft breasts.
In one quick swing of her chest, she rubbed his beard against each breast then pushed away from him as she huskily whispered "I've been wondering for a long time what a scruffy beard would feel like rubbing against my boobs. I like its soft feel. Ta-ta, I'm off to take my shower."
He could only stare at her naked back as she walked into the bathroom. He was still dazed and confused from the unexpected turn of events. Usually he carefully composed his words before he spoke but he found himself speaking exactly what was on his mind at that moment "Some men like legs or cunts or ass, but I've always been a boob man. Everyone that knows me, is aware that I thoroughly enjoy looking at women's boobs. So if you want to become a little more closer than just being friends with me some day, I would be most willing to let you see what a scruffy beard feels like against your pretty breasts for a couple of hours. I promise to not kiss and tell."
As she turned to close the door, he saw that there was a faint smile on her face. A pretty smile from a beautiful woman with a terrific body that caused him to have the second rock-hard erection that he experienced that day. | 2 |
4,569 | Cindy's Audience | "Wow, sweetheart! You look incredible!" David's jaw had almost dropped to the floor once he saw his beautiful young wife emerge from the bedroom. David had never seen Cindy dressed in something so tight and skimpy before - except before or during their lovemaking sessions. But this time it was different, because David knew that his 25-year-old wife would soon go out into public in that very provocative and sexy outfit.
"Thanks," Cindy smiled in return. She did a pirouette and added, "I'm glad you like it."
"Like it?" David gushed. "I LOVE IT!"
Cindy's outfit consisted mostly of an aqua-colored top and matching short-skirt, both of which were made of a very thin, stretchy material. Needless to say, the aqua-colored outfit displayed the considerable and luscious curves of her 38d-24-35 figure. Since the top was cut low, it displayed a generous amount of Cindy's ample cleavage. Her breasts were very large and firm, without any sag or give in them. Just like the top, the short-skirt fit Cindy's body like a tight glove. It went down to the mid-point between her hips and knees, and offered a wonderful view of her richly-tanned long legs. To complete the outfit, the beautiful young lady wore a pair of white high-heeled shoes which accentuated her firm, long legs even more.
Cindy had long, stylish blonde hair which went down to the center of her back. Even without smiling, there was no argument that Cindy had a beautiful face. But she looked even more appealing when she smiled. Since Cindy was a warm and pleasant person, the 25-year-old woman usually had a happy expression upon her lovely face.
David's eyes surveyed the incredible sight of his wife in that outfit and surmised, "If I knew that you weren't headed out for an acting audition, I'd take you back into the bedroom and make wild love to you all day long."
"Hmmmm," Cindy squealed, leaning over and pecking her husband's cheek with a kiss. "I'll have to take a rain-check on that, for another day."
"You better get going," David said. "The last thing you want to do is be late for this audition. If you land this part in the movie, that would be great."
"The audition is not for another four hours," Cindy told him. "I just decided to get ready for it a bit early."
"Early?" the man said, confused. "Early? You have to go now, Cindy. I don't want you here when the guys show up, to watch the football game."
"Why?" his wife giggled. "Because you'll be talking about 'guy things'? Come on, I have no place to go for four hours. I definitely couldn't go to a book store or the shopping center in this type of outfit. Where else could I possibly go?"
"I don't want you here, honey, because the guys who will be coming over to watch the game are a bit rowdy. I don't think you would like them."
"Oh, listen to you," Cindy smiled, flipping her hand at him. "I won't like them? I don't judge anyone because they scream or hoot and holler when their favorite football team scores a touchdown." She paused and giggled, "If that was the case, I'd have never married you!"
David shook his head and returned, "No, you do not understand. I would just feel uncomfortable with you and them here at the same time."
"I'm not leaving," Cindy insisted, "until it's time for the audition. You can try to change my mind, but it won't work." She turned and started strolling toward the kitchen. "Besides, I won't bother you guys. Neither you nor your friends will even know I'm here."
As David watched Cindy's round ass jiggle and twitch seductively with each and every step, he mumbled to himself, "Oh, I have a feeling they'll know you're here..."
Over the next hour, David's group of friends made their way to the apartment. All of them were his co-workers and were also very close to his age of 28. Alex had blond hair and a physically-fit body, thanks to many surfing sessions at the beach. Shawn's hair was brown and he had a slim but strong body. Kris had black hair and a handsome face, but just an average build. Tyrone had the best-looking body of the group. He was tall and attractive, and black. An African-American man, Tyrone was best friends with David.
The four guests expected to come over to David's place to get loud and rowdy for their favorite pro football team. None of them expected to find a blonde bombshell like Cindy; especially one dressed in such a tiny little outfit. They had never met David's wife before, and to no great shock, were extremely impressed with Cindy's beauty.
The young woman found herself giggling like a schoolgirl with some of the forward comments coming from the men. "Wow David, where have you been hiding this?" one man said. "What a fine-looking lady," another observed. "Too bad you're married, sweetheart," one of the men told her.
David figured his friends were just kidding, so he laughed while telling them to stop teasing his wife. The group finally relented, and made their way to the living room. The football game was just about to start.
Nonetheless, the compliments from the guys made Cindy feel very lightheaded and bubbly. She liked her husband's friends. As a result, the blonde decided that she was going to help them out until leaving for the audition.
David protested at first, but Cindy nonetheless wound up serving the guys drinks and snacks from the kitchen. It was her own idea, of course. None of the guys objected to having a "waitress" serve them food and refreshments. This way, they would not miss any action of the big game.
Over the next hour, the young wife must have made her way in and out of the living room 20 times. Instead of watching the television screen when Cindy was present, most of the eyes in the room were now focused on her large, firm breasts as they seductively bounced and wiggled with each step. If a set of eyes wasn't fixated upon her breasts, they were on her sweet ass, watching it twitch while she moved along.
"Why is your wife dressed that way?" Shawn asked David once Cindy left the room.
"She's an actress," David replied. "There is an audition later today, and she wants to look her best for it."
"Whoooo weeee," Alex commented, shaking his head. "If they are choosing actresses based on looks - in that outfit, your wife should be a lock for whatever role she wants." The other three guests all nodded their heads in agreement.
"Come on guys, watch the game," David insisted, shaking his head with a tiny smile. "Get your minds out of the gutter! That's my wife you're talking about!"
A short time later, Cindy was preparing a bowl of popcorn and some nachos when she heard a deafening cheer come from the living room - and not the television set. "Those guys," she laughed to herself. "The team must have scored a touchdown." The 25-year-old lady shook her head and added, "Ahh, men. Absolutely crazy for their sports."
When Cindy went back out to the living room, all eyes were on her again. While the four guests had explored nearly every subtle curve and shape of Cindy's hot body, they all wondered what she would look like without wearing that tiny outfit. An erection shot up in less than three seconds, in Alex's pants, once Cindy leaned over while handing him a bowl of nachos. Alex had received a clear, unobstructed view down the middle of her deep cleavage.
"I'm gonna go upstairs for a second," Cindy told her husband. "I'll be back soon."
"Okay," David replied.
Once Cindy turned and started walking toward the steps, all four guests turned their heads and watched her ass as it jiggled and swayed with each and every step.
"Stop it, guys!" David admonished once his wife went upstairs. They all looked back at him. "This is the last time we ever have a football party at my place."
"Ahh come on," Shawn said. "You know, Dave, you're enjoying this just as much as we are. You like showing off that hot wife of yours to us - it's like bragging."
"I'm not showing her off!" David told them. "I didn't even want her to be here!I asked her to leave earlier." "Bull..." most of the men chimed in, simultaneously.
At this point, Cindy was making her way down the steps. When she heard voices coming from the living room, the woman stopped and decided to eavesdrop.
"I'm glad she's here," Alex said with a toothy grin. "I much rather watch your wife than some football game." "Damn it, guys..." David sighed. "Come on, stop..." "What kind of actress is she?" Shawn asked. "What do you mean?" David inquired. "What kind of films does she go for?" "Regular films," David told him. "I think this movie she is auditioning for today involves a night club scene." He paused and added, "Why do you ask?" Shawn shrugged his shoulders and replied, "She reminds me of that hot blonde from the gang-bang movie we watched last week at Alex's house." Kris, Alex and Tyrone all nodded their heads in agreement at that comment. Meanwhile, still on the staircase, Cindy's eyes grew wide at that statement. "Shut up, guys!" David told them. "I don't want you talking about my wife that way!" "We wouldn't mind gang-banging Cindy," Kris smirked. "GUYS!" David exploded. "STOP IT!" "Dave would probably like to watch us do her," Alex joked.
"I've always thought you could find the most fascinating conversation while listening to men," Cindy remarked as she made her way back into the living room.
All of the guys turned and looked at Cindy, their jaws almost touching the floor in sheer embarrassment. "Uhh... we're sorry, ma'am," Kris said apologetically. "We were just teasing your husband." "Ahh..." David struggled to find the right words. It was difficult, since Cindy had a mean expression upon her face. "Honey, would you like it if I sent my friends home?" Her arms folded, Cindy tapped a high-heeled foot upon the carpet while staring angrily at the group of men. "I've been real nice to all you guys, all afternoon, and this is the thanks I get for it? You compare me to some porno slut?" "We're sorry," Shawn told her. "As Kris said, we were just teasing. Nothing serious. Please, it was just a joke."
Though angry on the outside, Cindy's insides were aglow with heat and excitement. No one had ever spoken about her, at least that she knew of, in such graphic terms. Those nasty words actually made her hot!
"Oh?" she commented, her anger loosening up. "Was everything that you guys said just a joke?" All of the men looked at her quizically. David was the one who broke the silence. "What do you mean, honey?" The young wife shrugged her shoulders and replied, "What was it you guys said?... You want to... yeah, you want to gang-bang me? Right?" This time, everyone looked at her with shock. But the one most shocked was her husband, David. However, Kris broke the silence this time. "We'd love to gang-bang you." "KRIS!" David exploded, in pure rage. "Would you like that, honey?" Cindy asked her husband. "Would you like it if these guys gang-banged me?" David's demeanor changed from rage to stunned disbelief. He looked at his wife - amazed at what she said. "You probably would," Cindy quipped, "since you spent last weekend watching some gang-bang porno movie at Alex's house." She paused, surverying the stunned reactions around the living room. "I heard what you perverts said." "I'm gonna send these guys home," David said cooly. "You didn't answer my question!" Cindy remarked, raising her voice. "Would you like it if these guys gang-banged me?"
"If you would like it, yes, I would," came the words from David's mouth. A second later, he could not believe he had said that. Cindy was HIS; she was his prize possession. But on the other hand, it had always been a deep-rooted fantasy of David's to watch Cindy get fucked by a group of men. He often thought of what the scene would look like, while watching adult movies of this particular genre.
"If any of you guys want me, come and get me."
The four guests looked at each other, then Cindy, then each other again. They were all shocked. However, Kris was the first one to take the initiative. He stood up and started walking over to her. "My pleasure, baby." David looked on in stunned silence as he watched Kris take Cindy into his arms and smother her mouth with a kiss. He saw a brief exchange of tongues, then looked at the other guys. They too, were staring at the scene in front of them in sheer amazement. David never imagined that he could sit idly by and watch another man kiss his beloved wife. Cindy whimpered and nearly melted in Kris' arms as the kiss grew stronger and deeper. Kris snaked a hand between their pressed bodies, and pawed away at one of her ample breasts, hidden underneath the tight top she still wore. Cindy squealed in arousal when Kris pinched one breast with a hand and used another to paw her bottom. When Kris grabbed Cindy's short-skirt and pulled it up, past her waist, everyone had a clear view of her perfect ass and the string bikini-panties which hid less than 5% of it. At this point, David jumped up and demanded, "Let her go, Kris! She is MY wife!" "Hush David," Cindy admonished him, while breaking the kiss. "You said if I wanted to, I could have sex with these guys. Now sit back and enjoy the show." Her mouth went back to Kris' for another passionate kiss.
Defeated, David sat back down on the sofa. It was true. He did give her permission to carry on with these guys. His husbandly side was screaming at him, telling him to stop the scene before him from unfolding anymore. On the other hand, his erotic side was urging him to let it continue. Slowly, David's erotic side was gaining the advantage.
Shawn got up and decided to join the action. He walked over to Cindy and Kris, who were still embracing one another with their lips locked. He nudged up behind Cindy and pressed his bulging crotch against her backside. The pretty blonde sighed at the initial contact, then moaned as Shawn wrapped his arms around her from behind. His hands came to rest on her massive breasts, and he cupped and squeezed both through the top she wore in repeated succession. Kris brought Cindy down to the floor with him, his lips still firmly attached to hers. He cupped her ass with his hands and pulled her body hard against his own, while kissing her deeper. Meanwhile, Shawn dropped to his knees behind Cindy, and thumbed her tiny bikini-panties down. He slipped her white high-heeled shoes off, then flicked both them and her bikini-panties away to the side.
David quietly sat on the sofa, a mixture of wild emotions still running throughout him. That was his WIFE on the floor, getting worked over by two guys. But at the same time, his cock was as big as it had ever been. It was so erect and hard that it felt as though it would explode in his pants.
As Shawn rubbed and caressed her supple ass from behind, Cindy broke the kiss with Kris and reached for his jeans. In a hurried rush, she unbuckled his belt and then pulled down his zipper. Her delicate hand dove inside his jeans, underneath his briefs, and gripped his rock-hard cock. Cindy squealed with delight as she pulled Kris' jeans and briefs down, exposing his massive erection. Soon, she grasped the base of his cock and then slipped its fat, juicy head between her moist red lips. Kris moaned in arousal as Cindy's blonde head started to bounce up and down over his erection. He looked down at her and smiled, then glanced over at David and grinned at him as well. "You're a very lucky man, Dave," Kris announced. "I'd give my right arm to have this lusty babe as my wife." On her hands and knees with her bottom perched in the air, Cindy gave Shawn ample access to her pussy. Behind her, Shawn parted her slick pussy lips with two fingers and then drove his tongue inside. In response, Cindy sighed in utter lust. She had never taken part in two-on-one sex before; this was definitely something new - and exciting. Shawn then grasped each side of Cindy's ass with his hands as he buried his lips and tongue in her moist pussy. Cindy glanced back at him for an instant, but immediately resumed sucking Kris' cock.
"I can't wait until I get my hands on her," Alex said to himself, sitting on an adjacent chair. He had already undid his pants and was openly stroking his erection. On the other hand, Tyrone sat still and watched the action, but figured he would not get a piece of Cindy for himself. Tyrone was an African-American man, and though he had tried for years, no white woman ever wanted anything to do with him. Tyrone was very attracted to white women - especially ones with long blonde hair, like Cindy. But if no white female ever wanted to have anything to with him, why would Cindy be any different? That was Tyrone's line of thinking. He expected to just be a voyuer today. Nonetheless, Tyrone was enjoying the show before him.
Cindy's head was bobbing up and down over Kris' cock at warp-speed, while her hips were wiggling back and forth in response to Shawn's oral work on her pussy.
Neither Kris nor Shawn could believe what they were doing. They came over here to watch the football game with David, but instead were in the process of making love to his hot wife! Even more, David was watching the action, too!
A loud chrous of moans and gasps were coming from the three individuals as the action got even more heated and passionate. Cindy was doing her best to swallow Kris' monster cock right down her greedy little throat. At the same time, Shawn was feasting on the sweet recesses of Cindy's juicy pussy. Kris had already come to the conclusion that Cindy was giving him the best blowjob of his entire life. No one had ever given him a blowjob any better than this one, and she wasn't even finished yet.However, Kris brought the blowjob to a close when he could no longer contain himself. His cock erupted in her mouth, filling it with gush after gush of thick sperm. Kris sighed deeply at the discharge, and was amazed at the same time by Cindy as she sucked and swallowed his fuck-juice down her hungry throat.
Still getting her pussy eaten from behind, Cindy slipped Kris' shaft out of her mouth and lovingly licked away at it. Kris gasped at the sight of Cindy's beautiful face as streams of cum dripped and dangled from it.
"Did you like that?" she squealed at him.
"Oh yeah," he sighed in return. "Oh, I loved it, baby. That was the best fucking blowjob of my life!"
Cindy smiled and giggled, happy to draw such praise for her sexual skills.
"I'm gonna fuck that sweet pussy of yours," Shawn said, as he withdrew his lips and tongue from her slit. But just when he was about to get himself into the doggie-style position, Shawn was yanked away by Alex. Shawn looked at him, angry. "HEY MAN! What are you doing?"
"You and Kris have already sampled her," Alex told him. "Now, it's my turn. You can fuck her later, but I'm going to fuck her NOW."
Alex had already stripped off his shirt and pants, and his cock was at full erection. He dropped to his knees behind Cindy as she stood on her hands and knees, then fisted his cock and nudged it against her pussy. Cindy squealed at the sensation - this was the first time a cock other than David's had touched her pussy since they started dating more than six years ago.
Alex grunted as he popped his erection into Cindy's tiny, slick pussy. In response, the young woman squealed again, surprised at the sensations swirling throughout her. Alex's cock was definitely bigger than her husband's, she thought to herself. As a result, Cindy was going to enjoy this.
On an adjacent chair, Tyrone felt very jealous. For the first time in his life, he really wished that his skin color was white instead of black. He wanted to get a piece of Cindy for himself, but figured she would not go for it. After all, no white woman had ever been attracted to him. He figured that before the day was through, Cindy would take care of the other guys in the room - all of whom were white. Unfortunately, Tyrone figured, he would be left in the cold.
Shawn sat still, fuming, as he watched while Alex started to pump his cock in and out of Cindy's pussy. He knew that should have been him fucking her now - not Alex. But Shawn knew that there were other parts of Cindy's body which he could explore and play with, while Alex pounded her pussy.
Thus, Shawn crawled around until he was sitting in front of Cindy, who was still in the doggie-style position, her body rocking back and forth in tune with Alex's thrusting hips. Shawn reached underneath her, then palmed her large breasts with his hands. Cindy looked up at him and grunted, then offered a charming smile.
"My, what a fine pair you have," Shawn said as he pulled the tight top up, exposing her large breasts. Shawn tilted his head and stared at the twin pair, liking the sight of an erect nipple topping each of them. Then, using his thumbs and index fingers, he pinched both nipples. Cindy squealed in passionate delight - she loved all this attention!
As Shawn continued to pay homage to Cindy's breasts, Alex kept up the pace by pounding into her from behind. He had his hands firmly planted on her bottom as he thrusted his cock in and out of her pussy, in the classic doggie-style position. Alex drilled her with all of his strength, his hips pumping back and forth harder and faster than he even previously thought possible.
David sat on the sofa, with the same stunned expression as before. His cock was so hard in his pants that it hurt. The repeated loud SLAPping sound, caused by Alex's heavy balls hitting Cindy's upturned ass, reverberated throughout David's ears and mind. Watching his beautiful, angel wife get hammered like this was the most exciting thing which had ever happened to him.
"I'M GONNA CUM!" Cindy screamed as Alex continued pumping into her from behind, while Shawn still pinched her nipples.
"CUM WITH ME!" Alex exclaimed. "LET'S CUM TOGETHER!"
Both individuals roared out in unequaled passion as they experienced mutual orgasms. Alex pumped his thick seed into Cindy's willing pussy, mixing it with her own release. The two shuddered together in shared lust for several seconds, until Alex pulled away. Next, the 25-year-old woman collapsed upon the floor, her breathing ragged and heavy.
As Shawn caressed Cindy's long, silky blonde hair, David finally got up from the sofa and rushed over to his wife. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he insisted, fearful that she may be hurt. After all, she had collapsed upon the floor and was gasping for breath. He had never seen her this way after a sexual encounter.
"I'm okay," Cindy managed, in response to his question. "But I'd feel a lot better if I could have some more cock!"
David's jaw almost hit the floor because of her lewd comment. She usually did not talk that way.
Cindy's head rose from the floor and she looked at her husband. "Hmmm, three guys have had me already. You have four friends here... which one am I missing?" She glanced around the room and gasped once her blue eyes found Tyrone.
Tyrone gasped as well - due to the lust-ridden eyes which Cindy intently stared at him with. Was a beautiful white woman actually hot for him?
"What do you think about white pussy?" Cindy squealed as she rose to her knees. She started moving toward Tyrone, a sexy smile on her face. "Have you ever had sex with a white woman before?"
Suddenly, Tyrone's cock was bigger than it ever had been before. He never dreamed of that this scenario would take place for real - not even in his wildest fantasies.
"Ma'am," the polite-sounding man said. "I've never been with a white girl before - sexually speaking."
Still walking on her knees toward him, Cindy flashed a charming smile and said, "Would you like to?"
"HONEY!" David exclaimed. "You want to have sex with Tyrone, too?"
"Why not?" Cindy giggled. "I've always had a thing for black men." She made her way up to Tyrone and stared directly into his eyes. "I find black men... ATTRACTIVE."
Tyrone gasped in utter shock at her comment.
"I... I... I'd love to have sex with you..." he mumbled.
Tyrone's body stiffened and he sighed as Cindy reached for his belt buckle and unlooped it. She whipped his belt off, then nearly tore open his trousers. With her right hand, she fished his erect shaft out from within a pair of boxers, and squeezed it.
"Oooooh, black cock..." Cindy squealed as she eyed and held the huge monster. The young woman gave the tip of his shaft a lick and added, "I've always wanted a black cock..."
All of the other men in the room watched with amazement as Cindy's mouth opened and then closed over Tyrone's giant cock. They had never witnessed interracial sex before, but were quickly becoming a fan of it. Of particular interest was the strict contrast of Cindy's white face and blonde hair as they hovered over Tyrone's throbbing black shaft. The extreme contrast in color nearly blew the men away.
For the longest time, Tyrone had dreamed of one day having sex with a beautiful white woman - especially one with long blonde hair. Now, that dream was quickly becoming a definite reality for him.
Tyrone sighed in lust as Cindy worked his shaft over with her fabulous mouth and tongue. She sucked and slurped away at his slab of man-meat as if it was her sole purpose in life. Tyrone reached down and placed his hand on top of her head, then lovingly caressed her long blonde hair as she bobbed up and down over his massive member.
While twirling his testicles between her fingertips, Cindy looked up into Tyrone's eyes and smiled as she continued sucking him off. Tyrone grinned at her in return, then shook his head in wonder. Cindy was his "dream girl". There was no doubt about it.
"I want you to fuck me," the young lady squealed, rising to her feet and then settling down in his lap.
Tyrone's heartbeat went into extreme overdrive as Cindy positioned his cock over her heated pussy. The other men watched with awe as Tyrone's black shaft slid up between the folds of Cindy's white thighs. The blonde let out a squeal once the cock was in her all the way, then she wrapped her arms around Tyrone's neck and vibrated in lust.
In no time flat, Cindy was bouncing up and down upon Tyrone's prick. Their rhythmic fucking started slow, but steadily grew faster and harder. Tyrone had his hands at Cindy's waist, grasping it, while she continued to ride him.
The others could easily see that the man's massive cock stretched Cindy's pussy lips to the absolute max. David wondered to himself if such a large cock would hurt her... but apparently not. He could tell by the lustful expression upon her face that Cindy was enjoying every single moment of having Tyrone's huge cock stuffed in her pussy.
The intense action between the two lust-lovers hit a fever pitch, then things started to slow down. Tyrone screamed at the very top of his lungs while jettisoning a fresh batch of cum into Cindy's hungry pussy. In response, the wife-turned-slut buried her face against Tyrone's shoulder and shuddered, experiencing an orgasm of her own.
"HONEY!" David exclaimed seconds later, once his wife finally slipped out of Tyrone's lap. "HONEY!" Not only was Cindy's face covered with sperm, but it was also sliding down her tanned thighs like a waterfall. "Honey, I didn't know that you had that type of sexual appetite!"
Cindy giggled and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't either... until now." She let out a content sigh.
David looked at his wristwatch. "You only got an hour or so until the audition starts. I know you really need this part..."but there's no way you could make it there in time.
Look at you... you're a mess! You have to wash up!
"Screw the audition!" Cindy exclaimed, dropping to her
knees in front of David. She reached for his pants and undid
them, saying, "Who needs a job when they could fuck five hot
studs instead?" Giggling with lust, Cindy slid David's hard
cock between her lips and started sucking on it eagerly.
- / -
Instead of watching football, David's friends knew they
had something better to do on Sunday afternoons from now on. | 4 |
4,575 | Marie Calri-Wrogn School, pt 4 (REVSD) | "Let me try it," said Brian, "I bet I can get my finger in all the way the first time."
Everyone quieted down while he pushed his finger in all the way. "Ummmggh," said Marie Clair, beginning a rhythmic squeezing with her anus in attempts to block his finger.
"I could feel when she tried to squeeze it shut, like she was trying to hold my finger. Then each time she relaxed between squeezes, I pushed in farther. It was easy," bragged Brian. Then all the boys tried it.
The grown-ups had lots of ideas for the already enthusiastic youngsters. "Brian, see if you can hold your hand perfectly still with two fingers in her pussy. Pull the folding chair over here and hold your elbow against it. Keep your weight on the chair and don't let it move while we try this. Cross your first two fingers like this," and he demonstrated crossing his two fingers with the index finger under the longer middle finger. "Billy, you like to play the drums. While Brian holds his fingers in her, you can try to play a slow, steady rhythm with this paddle."
Brian inserted his fingers into her. He pushed slowly because it was a tight fit with two fingers, but fortunately she was very slippery. When Brian's fingers were all the way in, and his elbow braced against the top of the chair, Mr. Long nodded for Billy to give the first spank with the paddle. When the paddle smacked her fanny, Marie Clair tightened and hunched her hips forward - sliding almost off Brian's fingers. Then as she started to relax again, she started to slide back onto his fingers and stopped.
"I have an idea," said Mr. Long. "After each spank, when she hunches forward, we'll see how long it takes for her to slide all the way back onto Brian's finger. If it takes too long, give her a really hard one. Ok, Billy?"
"I'm ready."
"Now, not too hard. We'll see if she flinches all the way forward with a medium spank. Then if she doesn't slide back quick enough, give her a really hard one."
"Ready," said Billy.
Mr. Long nodded again and Billy smacked her bare bottom. She tightened, sliding forward again, then settled back onto Brian's fingers faster this time, after hearing him explain about the possible harder spanks.
"That was better, wasn't it kids?"
"Yes, they agreed."
Brian added, "She still didn't slide all the way back down though."
"Try it again. Smack her, Billy."
SMACK! She flinched all the way forward and slid all the way back down onto Brian's finger. She even wiggled her bottom as she slid down, trying to go as far on as possible.
As the speed picked up, Brian noticed she was sliding back onto his finger faster. Within a minute, she was into a steady up and back rhythm, almost anticipating the spanks. Brian could tell she was even slipperier.
Mr. Long silently signaled for Billy to stop the rhythmic spanks, but Marie Clair went up and back two more times. She finally stopped when she heard the kids and some of the grown-ups start to laugh. They 'tricked' her like this several more times, spanking for a minute and stopping - laughing when she continued to slide up and back even though the spanking stopped. The third time they tricked her, she continued to slide up and back on Brian's fingers even though they were all laughing. She even picked up speed and wiggled more as she backed into Brian's fingers. The other boys wanted to try two fingers, too.
Each time they changed places and adjusted the chair, Marie Clair began sliding as soon as someone put their fingers in her. They didn't even have to spank her. The kids were enjoying this game.
"See if one of you can use the 'tickler' while you take turns on both holes. Bet you can't do it," dared one of the other adults, while adjusting his pants. On the third time two fingers were in at once while she was being tickled, Marie almost lifted the table she twitched so hard, moaning.
Inga gently pushed aside the vibrator and told the two children to hold still, leaving their fingers in her. With the camera zoomed in and the entire room quiet, all the adults vicariously enjoyed Marie Clair's first - and very intense - orgasm. The children who unwittingly precipitated this event didn't appreciate the significance, but did comment on the "squeezes" she was making for over a minute.
Restrained, in the midst of a public spanking, blindfolded and embarrassed - were all factors she now associated with intense sexual pleasure.
"Maybe we'd better stop for a few minutes, boys, and let her rest," suggested Inga. A couple of the other adult women concurred, and the boys headed towards her bra.
"Brian, take your friends to the bathroom first and wash your hands. We'll be having some ice cream and cake in a few minutes," said Mrs. Hardman.
The boys returned so quickly that Marie Clair heard several adults chuckle comments that they couldn't have washed very well.
"Get under the table, boys, and see if you can unsnap her bra in the front," said Mr. Long. "But don't touch her titties yet. I want to show you something."
They had some difficulty trying to unfasten it, but their determination eventually succeeded. The elastic pulled the bra up to the back of her neck to hang over the backs of her outstretched arms.
Mr. Long knelt beside the table to explain about Marie Clair's breasts. "Our next anatomy lesson will focus on her breasts. Look closely and you'll see that the pink part in front looks soft and rounded. Those are her nipples. Watch this one while I massage and pinch it." While he fondled her right breast, he explained to the boys that the nipple was getting harder and pretty soon the little bump on the tip would stick out. "They look kind of soft like marshmallows until you get her excited," as he patted Marie Clair.
When he removed his hand, they could all see the difference and were eager to try for themselves. "No, just watch a minute and the other one will firm up, too. Even if you just blow on it, it might stand out for you in anticipation." The boys started blowing before he finished his sentence, betraying their own excitement. The older Brian had been adjusting his trousers as he sat under the table, aware that other things were stiffening up, too, besides just Marie Clair's tits. He didn't know it, but all the adults in the room were noticing bodily changes of their own.
Heather wanted to feel them, too, which was fine with her mom. Heather also felt the barely noticeable bumps in her own blouse.
Several adults asked the boys to have fun with Marie Clair's titties, but not to pinch too hard. "Try to describe what they feel like. If her titties were fruit, what type of fruit would match their size?"
Marie Clair cringed as Heather and the boys discussed her attributes. Thinking of others seeing the video tape - with close-ups of her private parts and her begging for harder spanks, and her very visible wetness, all adding to her embarrassment.
ICE CREAM AND CAKE... AND GAMES
"Ladies and Gentlemen. Boys and Girls, ice cream and cake is served. You kids sit over here and watch while we unfasten Marie Clair's arms for a few minutes. She may need to go to the bathroom after drinking all that pop at dinner," announced Mrs. Hardman to the world.
While people were changing places and setting up some folding chairs nearby, Mrs Hardman whispered in Marie Clair's ear to see if indeed she did need to go to the bathroom.
"Ummmgh, ummm," which Mrs. Hardman interpreted as "Yes, Ma'am."
"Inga, bring it in," ordered Mrs. Hardman while two men unfastened her arms and helped her stand up, but they still restrained her hands. They did not unfasten her feet. Marie Clair felt herself being lowered onto a seat right there in the living room.
"Hold her knees apart. If you kids want to watch her pee, you can come over in front," said Mrs. Hardman. Marie Clair heard the five of them come over to sit under the table, very close to her. "OK, Marie Clair, You can go now."
"Unnggh. Unnnn," She wiggled as the pressure on her bladder mounted in her upright position. She was thinking how much better she would feel once she had gone. "There's no way I could be any more embarrassed than I already have been," she was thinking to herself. So she finally went ahead and started peeing with her knees held apart on the little portable toilet and two men holding her arms out. Then she farted! How embarrassing!As the pee started again, she farted again. The children were roaring with laughter as she finished and squeezed out the last drops with another fart.
When the laughter subsided, Dr. Hardman continued his instruction, "When you put your fingers into her bottom, some air got pushed in. That's why she farted. So don't laugh too much, it's not her fault. Now we'll wipe her off with warm washcloths and dry her."
After she was cleaned, they helped her stand again, feet still wide apart, fastened to the table legs. "If any of you kids want to feel her some more while she's standing up, go ahead. Notice how her breasts stick out like lemons while she is standing? She doesn't really need a bra to support them, does she?" The boys laughed in agreement and began to feel her.
"Look, her pink nipples are getting stiff again. She must like this," observed Brian.
Heather's small fingers felt different to Marie Clair, but there was no way to object, as Heather experimented with one then the other breast - squeezing, lifting and letting it drop, twisting and pinching the nipple. Marie Clair moaned in spite of herself.
They led her back from the table, taking wide steps, unable to get one foot within 2 1/2 feet of the other. She was able to take short forward steps by leaning her weight to the side and hopping the other foot forward. The kids laughed as she practiced, noting how her breasts jiggled.
"Ungggh unghhnnn," she tried to say something through her gag, which only brought more imitations and laughter from the children.
"Maybe she needs some spankings to speed her up," suggested Brian, laughing to the point of coughing.
"That might help her learn faster," agreed one of the adults. "But let's have our ice cream and cake first."
Two of the men helped Marie Clair sit down. Then they laid her back onto some pillows so the bar would not hurt her back. "OK, kids. Anybody want to eat some icing off the 'Little Marie' table?" and Marie Clair felt someone put a spoonful of icing on each nipple. "We'll wipe her off after each person gets done so you won't get any germs," and then he put a dab of icing into her belly button and another on her thigh. "We'll put icing on different spots on the birthday girl and you can lick it off. A 'Living Birthday Cake!'"
"Can I do it, too?" asked Heather. "I want to try it. Can I eat her belly button? Please, please. I want to play, too."
"Well, of course, Dear," answered Heather's Mom and Mrs. Hardman at the same time, laughing, "Settle down, you'll get plenty of time to play with our birthday girl."
For the next five minutes Marie Clair could feel the kids eating the icing off her. She was quickly wiped off as each spot was licked clean, and another dab was placed somewhere else. Marie Clair was wiggling around as the tongues tickled her tummy, legs, breasts, and neck. She could not tell who was who but hoped she would get to see the video later. The dabs near her lower tummy kept getting placed closer to her mound - then on the top of her slit.
She tried to sit up but couldn't get her balance because one of the kids kept wanting to eat icing off her neck, chin and even her lips which were still stretched over the rubber ball with the strap through it.
All the kids were enjoying themselves and the adults enjoyed watching. One of the boys kept licking lower and lower on her slit. Heather was now playing with one of her breasts with her fingers and tongue.
"OK, kids. Let's stand her up now and watch her practice walking."
Marie Clair could take short, hopping steps. She waited several seconds between each step, wondering why she heard the table being rolled away.
"Brian, since you had the idea of how to speed her up, take this paddle and we'll all see if your idea works," suggested Mrs. Hardman.
With a gleam in his eye, Brian took the paddle and walked over behind her. Marie Clair stood up straighter trying to tell by sound where he was standing. SMACK! right on her fanny. SMACK! SMACK! two more hard ones in the same spot sent her in a hopping gallop with her feet hardly staying on the ground. The crowd applauded Brian's training methods. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and she was practically running in a wide circle, unable to get away from Brian who was spurred on by the laughter and clapping of the audience.
Brian stopped spanking for a moment and she slowed down, trying to guess where he was. Everyone got quiet as she slowly turned around in the center of the floor, her pigtails flipping back and forth as she turned her head - listening. With her feet tied 30 inches apart, she leaned her head forward, bending her knees - ready to run - not realizing she was also sticking her fanny out. Brian was smiling broadly, two feet away - with the paddle raised in ambush, as she unknowingly turned her extended bottom right towards him. SMACK! SMACK! and he followed her around the floor, walking quickly, while she tried to get away again. The crowd cheered as he spanked her about every five seconds, speeding her up each time.
"Stop now, Marie Clair," commanded Brian, a man in charge, "Heather likes to see your breasts bounce. Hop up and down to make them jiggle while I rest."
The tired gladiator hopped slowly up and down while Brian put his hands on her hips to turn her to face Heather and most of the crowd. "Higher and faster, or I will have to spank!" She speeded up a little bit at the threat - but not enough for Brian. SMACK - and she started hopping much higher and faster, pleasing the cheering crowd as her firm breasts bounced. Heather tried in vain to make hers bounce while sitting on the edge of the chair, fidgeting more than usual.
"OK, now stand still and move your shoulders back and forth to make them bounce sideways."
She did this as fast as possible to avoid another swat. More applause for the ingenious Brian, a real crowd pleaser.
"Let's let her rest a minute," Mr. Long finally interceded.
"Maybe the other children would like to help you 'train' her," said Mrs. Hardman. "You can give her some more 'standing up' spankings - front and back, while she tries to walk around. Now, how does she like them, kids - hard or soft?"
"Hard!" answered all the kids at once. They ran to get their favorite paddles, belts, and so forth. Heather grabbed the belt which worried some of the other would-be spankers who admired her enthusiasm, but did not trust her aim. Two men led Marie Clair back to the center of the room and moved the remaining chairs and other furniture out of the way. Men stood every few yards around the ring so she wouldn't run into furniture.
Dr Hardman announced, "Brian gets credit for the hardest spank so far. Can anyone beat him?"
Robby got back just as the men let go of her and smacked her pubic mound with the stir stick. As she hobbled to turn around, he smacked her harder on the fanny with the wooden paddle. He had a paddle in each hand! As she tried to hobble away, she felt the belt slap the back of her leg just above the knee.
"Maybe we'd better just let 2 kids spank at a time," suggested Dr. Hardman - his request an order. Mr. Long became the judge and timer, letting Robby and Heather go first. Mr. Jones was the camera operator.
Heather's next swing with the belt hit her on the side of the hip as she turned so that the tip of the belt smacked directly onto her pussy, which bent Marie Clair over. As she bent over, the finally smiling Robby smacked her fanny with the riding crop - standing her quickly back up. The adults and kids all laughed as Marie Clair hobbled around, making her lemon-shaped breasts jiggle and bounce.
After 3 minutes of spanking, the referee said to stop and to go kiss and rub the birthday girl. Of course Heather liked the 'kiss' idea and went right for her breasts - just below her mouth level. Robby fondled the one she was not kissing.
Brian walked out and asked if he could check her wetness - "to be sure she's enjoying this."
The adults looked at each other and then nodded in silent permission. Reaching between her legs from behind, his finger slipped all the way into her pussy - no resistance at all. "She likes this game," he announced sagely, holding up a glistening, wet finger to the crowd awaiting his verdict.
Applause and laughter.
"Three Cheers for Marie Clair!" said Mr. Long.
"And three cheers for the helpful spankers!" said several grown-ups.
"See, the kids are learning a lot playing this game," commented one of the parents. "And I'm glad Marie Clair is enjoying her role, too."
"The next two spankers are Billy and Nick. Are you ready, boys?" asked Mr. Long.
"No, I'm waiting for the belt," said Nick.
"Here it is," offered Heather. "But can I test her wetness before I sit down? Please, I want to test her, too."
"Sure, Honey," answered Mrs. Hardman and her mom at the same time.
Heather started fingering Marie Clair with gusto - slipping two fingers at once into the stationary Marie Clair."Bet that feels good, doesn't it, Marie Clair?" chided Nick as he tested a short piece of the belt on her fanny.
"Don't be mean, Nick," warned his mother.
"But she said in the video that she likes it hard," protested Nick with a wicked grin. "And I bet I can spank harder than Brian."
Laughing in agreement, "You're right, Honey. Spank her as hard as you want."
"Go!" said the referee.
SMACK went the belt across the tops of the backs of Marie Clair's legs.
And less than a second later, the riding crop smacked her bare pubic mound in an upward blow. Marie Clair began hopping and turning as the boys gleefully spanked her, thinking her noises expressed pleasure. The belt continued to strike the backs, sides, and fronts of her legs from her knees on up, sometimes wrapping to the inside. The stinging blows also hit her fanny, and sometimes the tip of the belt stung the front of her pussy.
The crowd was laughing as Marie Clair jumped around, hobbled by the two poles attached to ankles and wrists. "Look how her titties jiggle, Mommy," giggled Heather. "She is so funny."
"Break!" interrupted the referee after just two minutes.
"But that wasn't three minutes," objected Nick's mother. "Start all over."
The red lines around her legs and fanny and across her lower tummy showed everyone where the blows had been landing.
"OK. They can have another two minutes with different paddles," said the referee, "But first they might want to let her rest while they check her wetness."
Mr. Long wanted to give her time to catch her breath. "Marie Clair, try to squat down and open your legs for the boys. That's a good birthday girl," as she spread her knees, hunching her pussy forward for their easy inspection.
She wanted them to keep inspecting her for two reasons, even though she would only have admitted to one.
Her perspiration mingled with her perfume, giving off a sweet aroma. Her whole body glistened with her sweat, and there was also a slippery trail of thicker wetness down the insides of her legs. Mr. Long had an idea for making things a little easier for the nervous contestant.
"Boy, this is fun, Nick. Isn't it?" as they each inserted a finger into her slippery pussy at the same time - for a very tight fit.
"Help me kneel her down. Why don't you do some softer front spanks while she puts her head and shoulders down on this pillow with her fanny up in the air?"
"Sure," said the boys.
"Well, I would rather just feel her titties some more anyway," said Billy.
"Let me give the birthday girl her choice," said Mr. Long. "If you want some gentle 'front spanks' and want Billy to feel your titties instead of spanking you, just lean forward and put your head on the pillows. If you want them to see how hard they can spank you for a few more minutes, then stand up." With that, she knelt down immediately.
Nick looked at her upturned fanny and changed his mind. "I would rather put my fingers in her holes instead of spanking her."
Mr. Long thought this over. "I'll ask the birthday girl again." Then to Marie Clair, "If you would rather have Nick put his fingers in you instead of giving you a front spanking, then put your knees farther apart."
And - her knees slid wider apart on the wood floor as she arched her back, tilting her 'holes' up for easier access.
"I want to, too, Mommy. Please. Can I finger her again?"
"You already had a turn, but maybe Nick will let you do a few for him."
"No," said Nick. "I want to do all fourteen in each hole myself."
Then during the break, while the crowd was ordering more drinks from Inga, Heather whispered something into Nick's ear.
Billy was happily fondling Marie Clair's firm, young breasts as the crowd refocused on the next round of fun after getting their drinks.
"I'm going to show Heather how to put her fingers into the birthday girl, Mom. She hasn't tested Marie's fanny yet. Ahem, Marie Clair, listen up," trying to sound like a grown-up, "I want to show Heather how to put a finger in your fanny. Your challenge is to squeeze so tight that I can't put my finger in to show her. But first I'm going to put lots of your juice in, so relax while I do that. Put your knees a little farther apart if you accept my challenge."
Marie put her knees even farther apart, arching her back more so that her chest was completely on the floor. Mr. Long fluffed the pillows under her hands so the bar would not press into her back, while Nick dipped out some of her lubricant and began pushing it into her bottom - until his finger slipped easily in and out. "OK, now try to squeeze so hard that I won't be able to get my finger in. Wiggle your ass if you're ready."
Marie Clair wiggled her fanny back and forth, then tightened her anus as tight as she could and waited.
Nick got his finger wet again, let her wait a moment, placed his fingertip on her puckered anus, and then pushed slowly in - all the way, while turning his hand back and forth slowly as he pressed.
"See Heather, that's how you do it," explained the triumphant Nick. The audience clapped and laughed again as Heather got her fingers wet and tried first with one finger - then two, while Nick probed the front hole.
When the children had finished, Mr. Long and Inga helped Marie Clair stand up. Mr. Long asked, "Marie Clair, if I unfasten your feet and wrists, and take off your gag, will you promise not to talk? Then Inga will take you upstairs and help you clean up so you can come back downstairs to your party. Nod your head if this is OK."
She nodded her head enthusiastically. They unfastened the two bars and took off the gag. Inga wiped off her mouth with a warm washcloth. Marie Clair rotated her jaw to relax the tired muscles... then she smiled.
The guests told her to hurry back down. Dr. Hardman promised no more spankings tonight as long as she did not talk, kept her blindfold on, and did whatever any of the guests wanted to do. The blindfolded birthday girl nodded without hesitation and was still smiling as Inga led her upstairs.
The children took the ankle and wrist straps and the two wood rods downstairs to play while the adults fixed themselves another drink and watched the video again.
Meanwhile, Inga finally took off Marie Clair's blindfold in her upstairs bedroom and began to wash her off gently with cool washcloths. She put soothing lotion on her reddened fanny and the backs of her thighs.
"Lay back on the bed with your knees up so you won't put any weight on your sore bottom, Honey. Now scoot towards the edge of the bed so I can kiss your tender pussy and make it feel better."
Marie Clair still had not spoken but did as directed, seemingly lost in a dream world. Inga heard the barely audible motor whirr of the bedroom security camera as it adjusted to zoom in on her soothing kisses.
After a moment, Inga asked her if she wanted to go back down to the party or if she would rather just go to bed.
Finally speaking, Marie Clair said, "I want to go back to the party, Inga. And thanks for kissing me there. It feels better now."
"Are you enjoying your birthday party?"
"Yes. Some of the spankings were too hard. But it was fun playing with the other kids, after I got used to the blindfold. I was really embarrassed at first, but they all seemed to think I was pretty, and they liked playing with me. I got lots better at the games, too, didn't I?"
"You are pretty, Marie Clair. You did great at the games. You're a good sport, especially the way you pretended to like getting tickled with your new vibrator. And the finger game - you were really good at that - front and back."
"Thanks, Inga. I tried to slide on the fingers as fast as I could!"
"I know the adults, and maybe even the kids will want to kiss you goodnight. Since your bottom is sore, you'd better just wear the top of your nightie, OK?"
"Well, I guess they already saw everything," still speaking softly, "and I want to go back to the party. I didn't get any ice cream and cake yet."
Inga laughed at this. So did the adults who had switched the big living room TV to the security system.
She was blindfolded again and led back downstairs. All the adults wanted to kiss her and wish her a "Happy Birthday." She ate the ice cream and cake standing up, which some of the adults found amusing. Her new, sheer nightie reached to just below her belly button. Everyone inspected her fanny and agreed that in a few days there would be no traces of the birthday party.
PLEASE COME AGAIN
As the guests left, Marie Clair invited each one to come over and play with her. Mrs. Hardman reminded her of her role as household servant and that she would have to "wait on them."
"Oh, yes, Ma'am. I'll do whatever they say. I want them to come and play with me." And, conscious of her blindfold, she said to the parting guests, "I really want to see you."
more to come... | 1 |
4,576 | Gabrielle's Next Spanking | "Come in, Gabrielle."
As I open the door, you see me dressed in my white shirt and tie, standing erect but relaxed as I watch you cross my threshold. The threshold you both fear and love to cross. The lights are dimmed, and there is soft music playing; you think it might be Handel's Water Music.
I direct you to my study, where I invite you to please sit in the large leather upholstered chair in front of my large mahogany desk. I watch as you sit and settle comfortably in the chair, demurely crossing your pretty legs and adjusting your dress so you don't reveal too much of your thighs.
"Now then, my dear Gabrielle, I understand there was a little to-do after the barbecue the other night," I begin as I take my seat in the executive swivel chair behind the desk. "Why don't you tell me all about it," I say evenly, with a small, friendly smile as I steeple my fingers over my lips. I notice your pupils dilate with the shock that I already know about the incident. You were planning on minimizing your involvement and putting the best spin on the story you could, hoping to deceive me into inflicting a lighter punishment. But now...
"Skinny dipping in the pool?" I ask incredulously. "You mean you have nothing more to confess to me than that? I think you'd better tell me the whole truth, young lady. Things such as with whom, and what did you do while skinny dipping? And afterwards? I want the WHOLE story."
I watch as you sit there, squirming in the big chair, shifting and re-crossing your legs. You look down as your hands keep fidgeting.
"Well? I have all the time in the world. But not all the patience in the world. You know you've already earned yourself a spanking. Do you want to earn extra by making me wait?"
"No, Sir, please, I don't want any extra spankings. I'll tell you everything!"
I'm amazed that you aren't more upset! There really isn't all that much more to tell. It's not like we had an orgy or something. I relax slightly and begin my tale.
"A few of us stayed at the pool after the barbecue ended, just talking and enjoying the starry night. After a while, someone suggested we go for a swim. And someone else immediately suggested skinny dipping. I looked at Angie and shook my head. I really didn't want to get my hair wet so late at night. She just grinned and said 'I'll go, but I think you're going to have to persuade Gabrielle.' So someone offered to cook us dinner the next night. Well, Sir, this is an offer I couldn't refuse...he's a gourmet chef who owns a trendy little restaurant on Melrose and I knew the dinner would be fabulous. So I agreed to a swim."
I pause and look over at you. You do not look amused. My heart sinks, and I continue a little less certainly.
"So we went swimming...and then we went home."
I look over at you again... and wish I could disappear.
"HE'S a gourmet cook?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "You went skinny dipping with a MAN?"
You slink down in your chair, your hands in your lap now still. You can't look me in the eye.
"Gabrielle, Gabrielle....do you know how that makes me feel? You're mine, as you know. No other men are supposed to see your private parts. Especially the parts I have to punish when you behave so naughtily."
I pause to let the import of my words sink in.
"Now tell me, did anyone touch your bare skin during this incident? Did you touch anyone? Tell me the truth, little Gabrielle. I'll know if you're lying," I say softly but firmly. I arise from my chair and begin removing my tie and rolling up my sleeves as I wait for your reply.I give a gentle tug and you pull yourself out of the chair to a standing position. You self-consciously pull down at the hem of your dress.
"Don't fuss with your dress, Gabrielle. It won't be in that position for very much longer," I tell you.
"Place your hands behind your back and spread your legs as you've been taught," I command. You quickly snap into position, not wanting to anger me further. I begin to raise your sundress to your waist as I begin my lecture. I see you are wearing your panties, but no pantyhose. 'Good girl,' I think...at least she obeyed THAT instruction.
I can feel the strength in your hand as you help me to my feet, the same hand that will soon be spanking my bare bottom. I clasp my hands tightly together behind my back as I spread my legs...I know from experience that the slightest disobedience during my punishment will be dealt with severely...sometimes more severely than the original punishment. I don't know why I get myself in these predicaments...I really do want to be a good girl and please you.
As you begin to lecture me, you lift my dress and stare at my panties...I try not to squirm in embarrassment. I can feel myself blushing under your scrutiny...I try to ignore your eyes and listen to your words.
You feel me raising your sundress, slowly tucking it in at your waist so it will leave your behind exposed.
"Does my little girl know why she's here?" I ask.
"Y...yes, Sir. I've been a bad girl," you stutter, keeping your head bowed.
"And why else, Miss?"
"Because I didn't tell you the whole truth at first, Sir," you confess.
"And what should be done about this situation that seems to keep repeating itself with you?"
"Maybe a good lecture and confinement to my room for a day, Sir?" you ask plaintively, hoping to dissuade me from the more severe option.
"Oh, come now, Gabrielle. You know much better than that. You know what naughty girls like you always get for such offenses. Now tell me," I reply with a smirk of derision at your feeble attempt to skirt the inevitable.
"I...I deserve...a spanking, Sir," you choke out. I notice your eyes are getting watery, but it has no effect on the punishment I've decided for you. "But please, Sir, don't spank me too hard. Please, Sir. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again, Sir. Please believe me!"
"Stop your begging, Gabrielle," I reply evenly. "You've already admitted you've done wrong and that you need your bare bottom warmed. Begging will only cause me to believe you didn't really mean you're sorry."
Your eyes meet mine for a second, then revert back to staring at the carpet in front of you.
"You know what you have to do. Now do it!" I command.
With a sigh and a hard swallow, you look up at me and say in an unsteady voice, "Please give me my spanking, Sir."
"And how do you want your spanking, little Miss?"
"Please spank me bare, Sir. I deserve it," you reply in resignation, knowing your submission to me has already begun.
"Very well, Gabrielle. Pull down your panties. And be quick about it!" I command sharply.
You look up at me suddenly, as if you hadn't realized before that your panties would have to be taken down to be spanked on the bare. But I was the one who always lowered them before. Your face blushes pink as you are forced to bare yourself to me. You hook your thumbs inside the elastic of your pretty panties and after the slightest hesitation, you close your eyes and pull them down until they are stretched across the middle of your thighs.
I quickly clasp my hands behind my back again, knowing that failure to do so will have consequences. I'm afraid to open my eyes. I hear a funny noise and realize my breath is coming in short little gasps. I take a few deep cleansing breaths, and open my eyes. Another deep cleansing breath, and I slowly raise my head to look up at you. You're calmly watching me, apparently amused by my embarrassment. Squirming under your gaze, I drop my head in shame. You usually take your time inspecting me and preparing me to be spanked...sometimes the humiliation is worse than the actual spanking. I wish this was over with...I want you to hug me and tell me you forgive me. One more deep cleansing breath, and I summon all my courage to ask...
"Please, Sir, please, will you spank my bare bottom now?"
As you stand there, I clear off my desk, making it clear what I'm planning to do. I carefully take all the papers, knickknacks, lamp, coffee cup and place them on the credenza behind it. I open the drapes wide, and you can see the lights in some apartment buildings not too far away. You wonder if any of the apartment dwellers have telescopes.
"It's time for your spanking now, Gabrielle. Please remove all your clothes and fold them neatly for me like a doll, would you?"
You kick off your sandals as you bring your hands forward and slowly begin unbuttoning your eyelet. Soon I can see the cups of your white lacy bra come into view, then become the only thing left on top as you slide it over your shoulders and off. Folding it neatly, you hand it to me with both hands. I watch as you reach back to unclasp your bra, which forces your pretty breasts out front. As the bra falls away, I see the pink hardness of your nipples as they rise and blush, in response to the cool air and my gaze. After handing it to me, I watch as you remove your sundress and pull your cotton panties down all the way to your ankles, stepping out of them hesitantly. You know you have no defenses left, don't you? Immediately after handing me the last articles of clothing, you spread your legs and clasp your hands behind your back once again like the obedient little penitent you are.
"Approach the desk and bend over it, Gabrielle," I tell you in a no-nonsense voice.
I see you lick your dry lips as you step over to the dark flat surface. You snuggle your pelvis up to the edge and spread your legs. With a deep sigh, you lower your upper torso to meet the desk top. I watch from the side as first your nipple tips touch the cold surface, then your breasts flatten as your weight comes to rest. You place your arms behind your back as you've done in the past. But I know that something more is needed this time.
"For this spanking, I'm going to have you extend your arms in front of you. Try to grip the opposite edge for me," I tell you.
Your fingers just about make it to the edge. I take a moment to look at your attractive body spread before me, waiting for my punishment. I'm so lucky to have you, I think to myself.
I watch you prepare the desk for my spanking, amazed that you acquiesced to my request. And all I had to do was ask nicely. True, I'm about to get my bare bottom spanked, but that was going to happen anyway. Hmmmm.
As I slowly undress, I wonder why you opened the drapes. Do you want me to expose myself to your neighbors? The thought strikes me as so funny that I have to bite my lip to avoid giggling. I continue to undress slowly, enjoying the approval I see in your eyes. I keep my own eyes lowered, well aware of the danger of letting you see my surprising lack of repentance.
Ohhh...I don't like your desk. It's hard and cold and it mashes my breasts. I wish I'd remembered to ask you to turn me over your knee...oh well, next time.
I can barely reach the edge of your desk. I wonder why you have such a big desk. Not being big enough to reach makes me feel like a little girl, and I feel some of my willfulness slipping away. I stretch further across the desk, and can feel the opposite end cutting into my pelvis. Without saying a word, you gently raise my hips and slip a folded towel between the sharp edge of the desk and my pelvis, providing a cushion of sorts.
"Thank you, Sir," I say gratefully, and try again to stretch far enough to grip the edge of your large mahogany desk.
You look so small and vulnerable spread eagle over my desk. I gently reposition you so you are tight up against the desk, legs properly spread, nipples pressed onto the surface. I know how hard you're trying to please me....if only to avoid a harder spanking.
You wonder why I haven't begun yet. Your unasked question is answered when you see me approach with some black leather straps.
"These are wrist and ankle cuffs, Kitten," I explain. "Last time you really squirmed a lot, and I think I can expect the same reaction from you this time. So, I'm going to secure you to the desk-cum-spanking-bench with these."
Your eyes are wide as you follow me around the desk. You do not resist, nor do you pull away as I fasten the wide, soft, black leather straps around each wrist, then tie them with white cotton rope to eye hooks I recently installed on the bottom of my side of the desk. Your arms are pulled apart, but not stretched, so you're still somewhat comfortable. I come around and attach the cuffs to your ankles, and similarly tie them wide apart to eye hooks you never noticed at the bottom sides of the desk. If you were restrained this way in a vertical position, your body would have the shape of a big "X".
I walk over to the light switch and dim down the lights to a soft glow. I walk over to your left side and tell you to turn and face me. Your head rolls to your left, facing me. I gently clear the hair from your eyes and smooth it down onto your shoulders.
"Is Gabrielle ready for her spanking?" I ask in a low voice.
"Yes, Sir," you say with more confidence than I had anticipated. Could it be that you've come to realize that this is exactly what you want? And not only need?
I place my right hand in front of your face, palm forward, fingers extended. You lean forward as much as your bonds allow, and plant a soft kiss right in the middle of my palm. I can't be sure, but I think I felt just the tip of your tongue touch my callused skin.
I take my position to your side.I lay my warm right hand across both your quivering cheeks, as my left hand presses down firmly on the small of your back, just above your bare buttocks.
I watch silently as you fasten the cuffs around my wrists. I feel my will slip away and have no desire to protest or try to stop you. As you move to attach the rope to the bottom of the desk, I realize how much trouble you've gone to for me. You must think I'm very special... I know my spanking is going to hurt...they always hurt...but I'm not afraid. I know you won't harm me even though you'll spank me till I cry.
I kiss your hand gratefully, the rough calluses tickling my lip. I'm glad you're going to spank me with your hand. I like the feel of your hands on me. As you move into spanking position, I feel a heightened sense of awareness. I can feel the hard surface of your desk pressing against my breasts...I smell the faint aroma of your aftershave mingling with your musky male scent. As you place your hands on me I can feel the contrasts...one soft and firm, the other warm and rough. I move slightly, testing the restraints...assuring myself that I am indeed completely vulnerable to you. I've never felt safer in my life. I realize what a precious gift you've given me...the gift of trust...and wait for my spanking to begin.
(Continued in Part 2) | 1 |
4,606 | Slitfest | "How do I look, Denise?" she asked, posing in front of the large wall mirror in the bedroom.
"Beautiful," came my reply. "Why are you all dressed up?"
Barbara smiled. "Well, it's my first time seeing Julie in a few years. I guess, I want to impress her."
I gave her a pat on the bottom before going over to the bed and throwing my purse down. "Well, you should definitely impress her. Especially, if you're going to wear that outfit."
Barbara turned toward me with an inquisitive expression. "Are you sure you're not upset or jealous, Denise? I mean, I won't go, if it makes you upset. I truly mean that."
"No, go," I said. "Go. I want you to go. I won't be jealous." I paused before adding, "Besides, I told you about the adventures Ashley and I used to have. I sure wasn't jealous when she was out fucking one, two, three... of my friends." There was another pause on my part. "I'm not the jealous type. I know, Barbara, that no matter what happens with you and Julie, you love me... and that is the important thing."
"That's right," she said, coming over and offering a warm hug. "I do love you. And I appreciate your leniency." She stepped back and grinned. "Wow. You tell me of those `adventures' with Ashley... I've always wondered what it would be like to be involved in group sex."
"It's the BEST," I sneered at her. "Pussies, hands, mouths, breasts... EVERYWHERE!"
"No cocks?" she teased.
"No cocks," I giggled. "For me to get involved with a man again, he's going to have to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. I mean, I've had so much trouble with men in my lifetime." I reached out, and traced a fingertip along the outline of Barbara's left breast. "I'm attracted to women. I'm attracted to women more than ever before."
She laughed again. "I wonder if you'd say that, if there was a cock shoved inside your pussy."
I snickered before replying. "Well, you shove dildos in my pussy. Does that count for anything?"
"Maybe," she grinned.
Several moments later, I had the tub full of hot, soapy water, and was luxuriating in the sensations. Such a long day of work; it felt so good to come home and relax in a nice, hot bath.
I continually soaped up the washcloth, and rubbed it over my upper body, especially my breasts. It felt so nice. One breast, and then the other. A cycle that never wore itself out. That is, until I thought of something a little better.
I stretched a leg out, and ran the soapy washcloth along it, and came to a halt between my thighs. It seemed as though my body was alive with wild sensations, and it felt so wonderful when I pressed the cloth down and rubbed it against my pussy.
"Oooooh," came a squealing moan from me, and I pressed harder.
Soon, I slipped down further in the tub, now sitting on my tailbone, and spread my legs out wide in the tub. Planting both feet alongside the edge gave me complete access to what I wanted.
I opened the washcloth up and then smothered it between my thighs. I pressed deeply with two fingers, and moaned in delight while rotating each in tiny, erotic circles. Even though I masturbate on a daily basis, I can never get enough of it.
After dunking the cloth in a patch of suds, I dug between my thighs once again. I cooed and sighed in approval, then giggled.
I scrubbed my breasts and shoulders with the cloth, then got up and took a seat on the inside edge of the tub. It was about two feet in width, so there was plenty of room to sit and be comfortable.
I did this for one reason, and that was to masturbate with the cloth in open air.I spread my thighs wide apart, facing the open shower curtain, and reached down into the sudsy water with the cloth. I brought it back up, settled in deeper on the edge, and then planted it against my pussy once again.
I dug and dug into the sensitive flesh for at least 15 seconds, my insides getting hotter and hotter.
I reached back into the water and then crumpled the washcloth in one hand. I wrung it out at my abdomen, letting the squeezed-out water trickle downward, over my pussy. Then I started giving long, slow swipes with the cloth, concentrating on the area between my thighs.
Holding my slit open with the other hand, I dunked the cloth once again, then spread it across the exposed area.
In a matter of seconds, both hands were busy. I rubbed the cloth over my pussy, and then did the same with the other hand, which was bare. I did this in a cycle which lasted for at least 30 seconds.
After tossing the cloth into the suds, I used both bare hands to masturbate. While massaging my clit with two fingers from the left hand, I used three fingers from the right and thrusted them in-and-out of the slippery opening.
The room was filled with a chorus of moans and sighs as I brought myself closer and closer to a self-induced orgasm.
Too bad I didn't bring my favorite dildo to the tub along with me!
However, orgasm had to wait. Not yet. Didn't want it yet.
After retrieving the washcloth, I stood up in the center of the tub and wrung it out at my abdomen once again, letting the water filter over and through the folds of my pussy.
Then I proceeded to turn around, and bend over at the waist. I put one hand on the edge where I had just sat, and propped a foot up there as well. With the other hand, I reached behind myself, and ground the cloth between my asscheeks.
"Ooooooh!" I squealed in delight, rubbing against my anus.
That hand still behind my back, I dug into my pussy, then roughly dragged the cloth upward, over and across my puckered anus. I did this motion several times before dropping the cloth into the water again.
I was still bent at the waist, in the overly obscene position, when I simply used my index finger and forged it between my asscheeks. I cried out in sudden shock upon anal penetration, then relaxed for a short moment and sighed in total pleasure.
My hips started to gyrate as I wiggled the finger around inside my ass. I felt so hot; my body was becoming a raging inferno! I started to writhe about and almost slipped before finally taking the finger out.
I was about to retrieve the washcloth when I noticed the hand-held shower nozzle on the wall.
"Hmmmmm," I moaned, curiously, while flipping the nozzle on. Water spurted out, and I immediately shoved it between my thighs.
The head was very wide in length, and hard as rock, and I continued to grind it against my burning pussy.
More moans and sighs escaped from within my throat, and I soon came to the decision that this wonderful instrument would bring me to orgasm.
I moved it upward, and rubbed it across my anus. That set the wheels in motion, causing the loudest moan yet. I brought the nozzle back to my pussy and savagely masturbated with it.
"Gonna cum!" I screamed, as if someone was there to hear me.
"Ohhhhh.... OHHHHHHH.... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" came my cry, as the juices started to flow. I dropped the nozzle, which was still shooting water out, and braced myself with both hands against the edge, in an effort not to fall over. "FUCK!" I screamed as the tidal wave started to taper off. "Feels so GOOD!"
"Oooooh," I moaned, raising from the bent over position, the cloth now back in hand. I reached down and swiped my pussy with it once more, then slowly lowered myself back into the water. "Hotttt!" I sighed, taking a seat in the tub.
I stayed in the tub for a half-hour more, giving myself time to recover from the blissful experience, and rested up.
Masturbation is quite a common thing around this house. Barbara and I are very open with each other, and we both masturbate on a daily basis. She is always getting all sorts of new "toys" from adult mail-order companies. I have my own set of joy toys, and the two of us often share and trade.
I washed my hair before exiting the tub, and then toweled and dried off.
I was wearing only a pink robe and was about ready for bed when the telephone rang.
"Hello?"
"Denise, it's Barbara."
I smiled. "Oh, hi honey. What can I do for you?"
She paused. "Would it be okay if I brought Julie over to the house? I want to give her a guided tour before we call it a night."
I looked down at myself, in a robe, almost ready to go to sleep. "Barbara, can't it wait un... oh, okay. Okay. You can bring her over."
"Are you sure?" she asked, skeptical.
"Yeah, I'm sure," came my reply. "Just give me a half-hour."
"Great!" she exclaimed. "We'll be there in 45 minutes."
Ahh, I didn't care. I'd just throw on a blouse and a pair of jeans. I figured the night was important to Barbara, wanting to score points with her former girlfriend. That's why I said it would be okay for her to come over for a visit, even though I was preparing to go to bed.
It was actually over an hour after the call, before they finally arrived.
And the photos I'd seen earlier did not do Julie any type of justice at all.
She had the girl-next-door type of look. She was quite petite, without a lot of voluptuous curves, although everything seemed firm and tight. Julie had shoulder-length blonde hair, brown eyes and a very attractive smile.
"You must be Denise," she said, extending her hand.
"And you're Julie," I summarized, shaking her hand. "I've heard so much about you."
"Really?" I said, looking over at Barbara. Well, I said to myself, someone wouldn't have to be Phi Beta Kappa to figure out Barbara and I are lovers, if they already know beforehand that one or both of us are bi-sexual. After all, we are living together.
"Jules, let's go over to the sofa here," Barbara said. "I have some pictures I want to show you."
"Great," the pretty blonde smiled.
I stood there in silence for a moment, then finally spoke up. "Would either of you like something to drink?"
"Red wine," Barbara replied, already on the sofa.
Julie shrugged her shoulders. "Red wine for me too."
I went into the kitchen to pour two glasses, thinking that Julie seemed like a very nice person. No wonder Barbara was so concerned about making it a perfect night. I thought hey, if Julie were my girlfriend, past or present, I'd want to impress her as well.
After pouring both glasses, I took them and went back toward the living room. I almost spilled the drinks when I got my first look at what was happening.
"Am I interrupting something?" was my question, in a shrill tone.
Barbara, wrapped in Julie's arms, broke off the mouth-to-mouth kiss and looked over at me. "Forget the wine, baby. Come over and join us! Make it a threesome!"
I glanced at Julie, who was looking at me with a lust-filled expression upon her lovely face.
"But Barbara..." I finally said. "I don't even know that girl. I may like all kinds of sex, but I'm into doing it with strangers!"
"Oh, come on!" Barbara encouraged. "Julie isn't a stranger. I know her quite well. Besides, this is the only night she can see us. You know how much I want to take part in a threesome."
"Yeah, Denise! Come on!" Julie smiled in an innocent tone.
I noticed Barbara had her hand buried inside Julie's blouse, massaging her breasts.
"Please, Denise?" Barbara whined.
"Arrrrg," I mumbled to myself, placing the glasses down upon the end-table and rushing over to them.
A stranger.
Sex with a stranger.
A stranger.
"Great!" Barbara exclaimed, reaching up and pulling me down onto the sofa, between her and Julie.
Before I knew what happened next, Julie grasped my chin and turned my face toward hers... and then her mouth was clamped down upon mine for a heated kiss. The girl doesn't waste any time, I told myself.
Barbara's right hand was massaging my left breast as I slumped down deeper into the sofa. Julie broke the kiss with me off, and then she and Barbara played a game of tongue-tag, about 6 inches away from my face. I felt hands on me; it seemed as though they were touching every part of my body.
I moaned at the sudden excitement level, and reached in different directions with both hands. My left sought Julie's upper thigh, and I massaged it through the white pants she wore. The other went for the gusto, diving between Barbara's inviting legs, and rubbing her pussy through the tiny G-string she wore.
I leaned forward a bit and stuck my tongue out, and now all three of us were playing tongue-tag in the open air. I must admit, it was very erotic, getting so intimate with a stranger, so soon.
Both ladies detracted, and soon they were busy unbuttoning my blouse and whisking it off. Barbara reached underneath me and unhooked my bra, and took it off as well.
I moaned as both took advantage of my topless state. Two mouths descended upon me -- one on each breast.
"Ooooooh," I squealed, spreading my thighs wide (an involuntary reaction).Even though I still had on a pair of jeans, Barbara slid her hand downward and began rubbing my pussy through the material. I was now doing the same to Julie, rubbing her treasure box through her white pants. As for Barbara, I had my hand under her G-string now and was busy finger-fucking her.
I continued to moan and sigh as their lips and teeth worked wonders upon my breasts and nipples.
They broke away at the same time and then shared a series of deep, quick kisses right before my very eyes. Then, in a flash, both were planting kisses on either side of my face.
One of my arms was now wrapped around Barbara's shoulder, and the opposite hand was groping Julie's breasts through her blouse.
Each of their mouths returned to my nipples, and this time, they also used their hands and fingers, which only added to the pleasure.
Why couldn't this have happened earlier?
It soon became apparent that Barbara and Julie were dedicated to my breasts. They kept nibbling and sucking, this time not breaking off. I simply arched my neck and sighed in pleasure as they continued.
I reached down and undid the jeans I wore. I moved my hands back to each body beside me, figuring they could take my jeans and panties off for me when they wanted to.
But as for now, their mouths were committed to my breasts. Each kept sucking and nibbling, and it felt GREAT! I had not been in a threesome in several months; I almost forgot how great they are.
Her mouth still at work, Julie reached down between my thighs and nudged her hand beneath my panties. I moaned as the foreign hand, at least to me, rubbed over my damp pussy.
I looked over at Barbara and noticed that she was masturbating. Her miniskirt was raised above her waist, and her right hand was busy.
Seconds later, the breast sucking finally came to a close. Barbara got onto the sofa and stood on her knees beside me. Slowly, as if asking permission, she raised one knee and moved it over my face.
"Do it," I said.
In a flash, Barbara was seated astride my face. I reached up and slid the tiny understrip of her G-string out of the way, then went to work on her succulent little pussy.
Barbara's body bucked and writhed above me as I went to work with my mouth. I spread her slit with fingers from both hands and dug my tongue in deep between the folds, tasting every wet recess.
Meanwhile, I felt my jeans being slid down, and then my panties. My body tensed as Julie's mouth dived between my own thighs and then started to lick and nibble away.
I spread myself open for her, all the way, as Barbara reached back and down, tweaking one of my nipples with two fingers.
I could not see what Julie was doing to me, because Barbara was blocking my view. But I certainly enjoyed Julie's oral ministrations!
"FUCK YES!" I screamed, in both shock and pleasure, as Julie slammed at least three (perhaps four) fingers into me. She continued eating me at the same time... it was SOOOOO wonderful.
I was sucking on Barbara's clit now, taking it into my mouth and gently tugging it downward.
My own body was rocking with passion, thanks to Julie. I thought these two may engage in sexual activity... but I certainly never had any idea that I would be right in the middle of it, too!
Julie was really doing a number on me. I felt her tongue taking long, erotic swipes of my pussy... every hint of contact excited me more and more. Meanwhile, I had my tongue forged up into Barbara's slit. I was determined to make her cum, because I wanted to swallow the explosion. And I was also determined to make her cum before Julie made ME cum.
However, that was not the case.
All of a sudden, it was as if an earthquake had hit. I screamed in lust, and I felt the juices flowing from me as if they were a tidal wave. And at the same time, I felt Julie's mouth still on me, trying herself to swallow and suck down the delicious liquid.
"Cum for me, Barbara," I begged.
A second later, she let herself go -- all over my face. Moaning, I swallowed as much as I could, my tongue lapping like crazy. She ground her pussy into my mouth, and just kept cumming, all the while screaming and moaning her own passion.
Barbara slid away from me, and I noticed that she was completely nude, except for the G-string that I had to push out of the way in order to eat her, and her miniskirt. She must have gotten rid of her top while I worked on her pussy. She disposed of the miniskirt and G-string, sliding them down and tossing them aside.
"Wait here," Barbara said, getting up and walking out of the living room.
I looked over at Julie, and noticed that she was now topless. Her breasts weren't very large, but I wasn't complaining. They were perfect for her frame and build.
She looked over at me and smiled.
I brushed my hair back with a hand and realized a good portion of Barbara's cum was now coating my hair. So much for that shower earlier, eh? Well, not really. Masturbating like that was worth it!
"I see you're not shy anymore," Julie grinned, stepping out of her white pants and G-string.
"No," came a sigh from me. "No, I'm not."
Barbara came back into the living room, carrying a double-headed dildo which was two feet in length.
"Where did you get THAT?" Julie exclaimed, her brown eyes big and blazing with curiosity.
"Mail order," Barbara grinned, re-joining us on the sofa. She gave one end of the dildo to Julie and told her to suck on it. Julie did, and then Barbara did the same with the opposite end.
Both of them sucked on the dildo as if it were a real man's cock. Since there wasn't a third head for me, though, I started sucking on the middle, where there were fake balls. We did this for several seconds, until Barbara jerked it away from us.
She grabbed hold of one end and pressed the fake cockhead against Julie's left breast, who moaned in response. Barbara prodded the tip against her friend's breast, rubbing it in tiny circles. Julie reached down and tweaked that nipple, and then I moved in and started sucking on the other (right) breast.
But before I could get into a groove, Barbara took the dildo away again, and Julie moved back. Barbara handed the dildo to me and begged "please fuck us with it."
Within seconds, the two women were laying on their backs, thighs spread and knees in the air, their pussies facing one another.
I moved one end of the dildo between Barbara's thighs, and the other between Julie's. I worked on her first, forcing 10 inches of the toy into her, until the fake testicles at the center were touching her. Then I did the same with Barbara. I held onto the middle, so the instrument would not slip out.
Then both of them started to buck together, like bitches in heat.
I eventually increased their pleasure by moving the dildo in a back-and-forth motion. By doing this, an end thrusted outward of one of them, while the other end thrusted inward to the other person.
I moved it back-and-forth at a torrid pace, wanting them to remember this coupling for a long time. I could also see each pussy, all stretched out and completely soaked, as they rocked together and screamed in lust.
Barbara moved her hand down and started masturbating as I continued the dildo-fuck.
I was going at such a pace that my arm was starting to hurt. I was really giving it to them now, and their sounds and expressions told the story.
Both of them came instantaneously.
I laughed in delight while taking both ends of the dildo out of them. I bent the instrument so the heads were side by side, then brought it to my mouth and stuffed them in, as far as they would go. My mouth was really stretching to get the two heads inside. I slurped each end, sucking down the cum from each woman.
Barbara sat up and took the dildo from me, and then instructed me to lay down upon my back. I did, and spread my thighs wide for them. Julie, tired but ready for some more, sat up as well, then leaned down and gave me a full kiss on the mouth. I was not expecting it, but kissed her back with all the fever and intensity I could possibly find.
Barbara's face was now hovering over my pussy. She had spread my thighs even wider, and had them in the air. She started to finger-fuck me while Julie splayed a serious of wild, passionate kisses along my neck and shoulders.
Julie moved downward. While Barbara held my slit open, Julie dove in, using her lips and tongue on me. I started to writhe and moan -- I could have my pussy eaten all day and never become bored or complacent -- and then Barbara's tongue moved in as well.
Two women were eating me, at the same time!
I was in such a state of bliss that I do not know exactly what happened in the next sequence. I believe they took turns -- one would lick my pussy while the other held it open -- then they would switch. I did notice that on occasion, they would lick each other's tongues and share kisses. But their focus was me; specifically, my pussy.
It got to the point where I was holding both my legs up, stretching them so my knees were almost touching my shoulders.
Then I felt a finger against my anus.
"Denise just LOVES having her little ass played with," Barbara commented, as she inserted a finger into my bunghole.
While Julie held my pussy open with two fingers and ate it, Barbara finger-fucked me in the ass! What sensations! Things... they were kind of a little bleak after that.
I remember screaming -- I couldn't stop. It was so pleasurable. I clutched and grabbed my breasts, massaging them savagely, just adding to the excitement.
Then I remember cumming -- I couldn't stop doing that, either.Barbara and Julie lapped up all of my juices and took their time, too. It was so incredible.
Barbara slid up to me and latched her cum-soaked mouth upon mine for a heated kiss. Julie joined in as well, laying down beside me, rubbing my breasts and kissing my shoulder.
We were very tired, yes, but the night was far from over. The three of us fucked one another silly until we couldn't take it anymore. The last reading on the clock I remember that night was around 4:30 a.m. And I get up each morning at 6:30 a.m. for work! Talk about being groggy and tired... that was me, at work the next day.
The only unfortunate thing that came out of the entire evening was the fact that Julie was in town for just a couple of days. As it turned out, that one night/early morning was the only time Barbara or myself got to see her. She came back to Los Angeles to visit her family, with the intention of rekindling the flame with Barbara for just one evening. I was very lucky that she wanted to start a brand new flame with me.
What a great night!
Julie may be back in San Francisco, but she has promised to visit us anytime she is in Los Angeles. And let me tell you, we are thinking about going up there to visit her. Barbara and I definitely want to see her again. It would be a travesty if we didn't.
I'm very content with Barbara in my life and could easily live without sex from anyone but her. But when an opportunity like this arises, what am I supposed to do? Julie looked so beautiful that night, and when the two of them basically begged me to have sex with them... who could refuse that?
Well, after I finish with this file and spread it around the local bulletin boards and networks, it will be time to go into the bedroom and spend some "quality time" with one of my vibrators.
You don't know how hot I get, typing these experiences out. It will be time for another slitfest soon; hopefully tonight, with Barbara!
Dripping,
Denise Q. | 3 |
4,611 | LYNDUKE: +++Barbara Loves Anal Sex+++ | "Scream all you want, Barbara," Bob whispered into her ear as he attempted to mount her from behind, both on hands and knees in the doggie style position. Bob had applied a tiny drop of KY on the outside of her rectum. Just enough lube to work the head of his shaft just inside the anal ring. Not really enough to allay her fear of the pain that was coming. But he found the anal orgasm with the most pain gave the deepest, longest, strongest, and most satisfying climax. Therefore, he skimped on the lube. Most people would find more comfort with half a tube of KY. But Bob was going for quality, not comfort. Ultimately, she would find her comfort when she got her climax. And that is what he was going to assure - a totally perfect and complete rectal orgasm that wrenched her entire body. With that, he thrust forward viciously, burying his huge erection in the tight, rubbery confines of the little 5' brunette's bottom. She had earlier asked him to penetrate her anally, without letting up when she told him to stop.
"Oh God," Barbara wailed as humiliation began to merge with the pain. He was moved by her tears. Indeed, seeing her suffering made him love her more and more and more, as he could comfort and assuage her more. A loving, aching feeling was deep in his heart - an aching need to give her total satisfaction, even though in the short run, it would be a bit painful. And he had promised to complete this act even if she took back her request for sodomy. A feeling of total helplessness washed over Barbara like a tidal wave as Bob sunk his rod to the hilt, his big hairy balls slapping luridly against her lovely butt cheeks.
The black butt plug stuck out of his ass a little and gave him additional pleasure.
"UUUUNNNNGGGGGHHHHH!!!! ….PLEASE, you have to stop. I can't do anal. I thought I could, but I can't. If you take it out, we can do anything else you want. ANYTHING!"
But Bob already had what he wanted most in the world: His thick cock forcing its way into a tight, virgin, unwilling ass. One of his hands reached her pussy and diddled her clit. This helped to relax her and concentrate her focus on getting hornier. "Pinch your nipple, Darling, it will help you bear the pain till I get inside and make you cum." She did as directed. He began to screw part way in and out of the narrow rectal passage, bringing further cries of distress to her trembling lips. She cried out loud like a baby, sobbing hideously, but part of the cry, he knew from past sessions, was the start of a cry for joy, she was in the throes of conversion to orgasm. She had earlier taken 2 thorough soap suds enemas and a rinse enema to prepare her back door just for his use, and his alone. He bumped against her over and over, loosening her up. Then he began to brutally lunge into her soft buns, with his throbbing bone again and again, buried to the hilt in her rectum. Her arm and leg muscles collapsed, and Barbara went limp, and fell over the pillow he had placed beneath her. Much to her delight, she found the pain easing the more she relaxed and collapsed. Soon she was up on all fours, pushing back to meet the ramrod. Not long after, she was screaming "harder Bob!!!, you're all the way in, fuck me more. Hurt me more". All of a sudden, there was the beginning of an orgasm deep within her bowels, and it grew larger and larger. When it hit, her clitoris was spasming as much as her rectal walls and uterus. She felt his jism burn her insides. And then they both collapsed in a heap. Happy. He took a wet towel and lovingly washed her bottom off. Put his mouth on her clit and teased with his tongue for a minute. Then he gave her a sip of his drink, for she was very, very thirsty after that hearty ordeal. With tears staining her happy face, she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips tenderly. And for the first time ever, by this strong, loving man, Barbara was totally and completely sexually satisfied. | 4 |
4,615 | BATGIRL AND WONDER WOMAN: ALTER EGOS | "So, where is Batman tonight?" asked Batgirl.
"He'll be out of town for a few weeks," replied Robin, the Boy Wonder.
"Then I suppose we'll have to find the Catwoman's hideout ourselves," said Batgirl. "Before she gets into any mischief."
"Yeah, I suppose," agreed Robin. "Let's take the Batmobile. You can leave your Batgirlcycle in your favorite hiding spot, and we can ride together."
"Do you know where the hideout is?" asked Batgirl.
"Sure," replied Robin. "Catwoman left the usual obvious clues."
"All right then," replied Batgirl. "I suppose it would be better if we arrived together."
"And we might find the communications installed in the Batmobile useful," added Robin. "In case we need an uplink to the Batcomputer or to call for help."
Robin, in a very gentlemanly way, held the door of the Batmobile open for Batgirl. "Thank you," said the cowled woman coolly as she got in.
Robin was ecstatic. The teenaged crimefighter had had a crush on Batgirl ever since he had met her. He dearly wanted to get to know her better, in the most intimate way possible. But he hesitated pursuing her, for fear Batman might not approve. Or worse, that Batgirl had feelings for Batman, and not him. But, with his mentor away for a few days, Robin could find out just how far he could get with the masked crimefightress.
As they drove toward the feline villainess' hideout, Robin asked Batgirl: "How do you like the Batmobile?"
"I think the Batmobile is fine," replied Batgirl, again, coolly.
"This is your first ride in it, isn't it?" asked Robin, rhetorically. "I made a few refinements in it recently. Would you like to see how fast it can go?" The car, thought Robin. Chicks dig the car.
"No, that won't be necessary," replied Batgirl, as coldly as she could muster. "Let's just get to the hideout."
Robin was unfazed by his passenger's lack of interest. He decided to try a different tactic. "I bet you'd like to see the inside of the Batcave, eh, Batgirl? How about it if I take you on a tour after we take Catwoman and her kittens to jail? Of course, I'd have to blindfold you so you wouldn't learn my true identity..."
"Look! That abandoned warehouse! That looks like a likely hideout! Pull over, and we'll check it out," said Batgirl, thankful that events allowed a change of subject.
Batgirl left Robin's question unanswered as the pair of crimefighters got out of the Batmobile and prepared for action. Batgirl was grateful for the diversion, as she considered Robin something of a dork, and could see where their "conversation" was going. The last thing in the world Batgirl wanted was a "date" with such a geeky teenager, even if it was to see the secrets of the Batcave.
"Shall we climb the wall and enter through the skylight?" asked Robin.
"I don't like the looks of this," replied Batgirl. "It smells of a trap. Tell you what: You call for some help while I reconnoiter. Take the Batmobile around the corner, so no one can see you."
"But Batgirl," protested Robin. "I want to go with you."
"Just do it," ordered Batgirl.
"But who shall I call for help?" asked Robin. "Batman can't be reached."
"Oh, I don't care," replied Batgirl, exasperatedly. "Use Batman's communicator to call someone from the Justice League."
"All right," agreed Robin. "I'll try. Will you be safe?"
"Never mind me," replied Batgirl. "I can take care of myself."
* * *
When she awoke, Batgirl found herself lying on the floor. Although her costume was intact, she was horrified to learn that her cowl had been removed, revealing her face.
"Welcome to my hideout, Miss Gordon," said the unmistakable voice of the Queen of Crime: Catwoman! "How purrrrrfectly wonderful for you to drop in! So, the heroic crimefightress Batgirl is in reality Commissioner Gordon's daughter!"
"How... how do you know who I am?" replied the unmasked woman, believing it was useless to deny the obvious.
"Because I had a plan a while back to kidnap you," replied the felonious feline. "As Commissioner of Police, your father would have to pay a good price for such a high-profile abduction. But I discarded that plan as too risky. Now, though, Barbara Gordon has made it easy for me just by walking into the trap I had set for Batgirl. I had planned to just reveal your secret identity to the world, nullifying your effectiveness as a crimefighter, but now, I can really make that plan pay! As soon as my kittens come back, we'll start!"
"You mean we're here all alone?" asked Batgirl.
"That's right, Miss Gordon," replied Catwoman. "I got the 'drop' on you all by myself. But don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. You're much more valuable to me alive."
"You'll never get away with this, Catwoman!" exclaimed the exposed librarian.
"Oh?" replied Catwoman. "And who's going to stop me?"
"How about me?" replied a statuesque woman in a star-spangled outfit as she burst through the door of the hideout.
"Wonder Woman!" gasped Catwoman.
"That's right," replied the Amazon. With a quick twirl of her lasso, the busty superheroine ensnared the villainess and quickly subdued her.
Wonder Woman then turned her attention to the trussed-up form of Batgirl and quickly removed her bonds. "I'm glad you're safe, Batgirl, but it looks as though your career of crimefighting is over, now that this crook has learned your secret."
Batgirl was irritated at the Amazon's condescending attitude as she replied: "Thanks for coming to help, Wonder Woman, but I had everything under control."
"Under control?" replied Wonder Woman. "Catwoman was about to reveal your secret identity to the world! Even if you had escaped and turned the tables on her, she would still know."
"Would she?" replied Batgirl, as she put her cowl back on, and reached into a compartment in her utility belt. From it, she retrieved a capsule. "Now stand back, Wonder Woman, and hold your breath."
Both women gasped and held a lungful of air as Batgirl threw the capsule at the feet of Catwoman, who was held in place by Wonder Woman's magic lasso. The capsule exploded in a cloud of white vapor. Surprised, the supervillainess gasped, and breathed in the fumes.
Catwoman's eyes blinked, and then they glazed over. A moment later, she saw the two heroines and said: "Batgirl? Wonder Woman? Where... how did I... What happened?"
"Never mind, kitty," replied Batgirl. "Just run along home. Remember, I'm keeping an eye on you."
Catwoman quickly scurried away to join her henchmen.
Batgirl turned to Wonder Woman and asked: "How did you know I was here?"
"That good-looking boy, Robin, called me on the Justice League transmitter in the Batmobile," replied Wonder Woman. "I told him to wait outside. But are you going to let Catwoman get away? Aren't you even going to arrest her? She'll tell everyone who you really are! And what was that gas you sprayed on her?"
"I have to let her go," replied Batgirl. "She hasn't really broken the law yet."
"'Not broken the law'?" asked Wonder Woman. "How about kidnapping?"
"I can't very well have her prosecuted for that," replied Batgirl. "And as for my secret identity, that chemical was a mind-altering drug that will cause Catwoman to have a permanent memory loss of the events of the past twelve hours. So you see, my secret identity is safe. But it wouldn't be if I arrested her, because then I'd have to testify, and, well, you know."
"Besides," added Batgirl, "Since she has no memory of what happened, she could just deny everything, even to the point of passing a lie detector test. So it would just be her word against mine, er, ours. I doubt that even your magic lasso would get the truth from her. And if it did, well, that would be the end of my crimefighting career."
"Some career," muttered Wonder Woman under her breath.
"What did you say?" asked Batgirl.
"I said, 'Where did you learn about that drug?'" replied Wonder Woman.
"From my research at the library," replied Batgirl. "Barbara Gordon is a librarian, you know."
"Hmpf! All I know is that you're involved in some dangerous business," declared Wonder Woman. "Perhaps you should settle down and find a nice young man. Maybe Robin. He's a handsome lad."
"Robin?" repeated Batgirl. "Well, he may be handsome, but he's just not my type. Besides, I think he's gay. After all, a muscular teenage boy that runs around in tights and hangs around with an older man..."
"In any case, Batgirl, I think it would be better for you to leave the crimefighting business to us professionals," declared Wonder Woman.
"Professionals?!" shrieked Batgirl, disturbed by Wonder Woman's continuing condescension."Look, Wonder Woman, just because you've got super powers to make it easier for you to catch crooks doesn't mean that us normal mortals can't handle it!"
"That's not what I meant," replied Wonder Woman. "It's just that experience is the best teacher. Besides, having super powers doesn't make it any easier, and..."
"Look, Wonder Woman," interrupted Batgirl, "anytime you want to trade places, it's fine with me."
Wonder Woman paused and thought about the issue over which she was arguing with Batgirl. She then asked, "Do you really mean that?"
"Mean what?" asked Batgirl in reply.
"About changing places," replied Wonder Woman. "You become me, and I'll become you. Then we'll see who's the better crimefighter."
"Just how would we go about doing that?" replied Batgirl incredulously. "Switch costumes? I don't think Barbara Gordon would look too good in a tiara, and besides, I'd probably miss a few bullets with those bracelets."
"No," replied Wonder Woman. "That's not what I had in mind. I propose we switch our personalities between our two bodies."
"You mean I would inhabit your body, and you would take over mine?" asked Batgirl. "Like on the final episode of 'Star Trek'? That's impossible!"
"Oh, no it's not," countered the Amazon. "You see, I just happen to have my Purple Healing Ray in my invisible plane with me. With a few adjustments, I can use its technology to switch our bodies for a short while. But if you're afraid..."
"Afraid?" replied Batgirl, who was even more irritated at Wonder Woman's suggestion of her cowardice. "Me? Lead the way!"
"All right then," replied Wonder Woman as she directed Batgirl toward the invisible plane.
On the way, the pair saw Robin. "Well, where's Catwoman?" He asked.
"She, er, got away," replied Batgirl. "Now Robin, be a dear and wait for me. You can give me a ride back to my Batgirlcycle after Wonder Woman shows me something in her plane."
"All right," agreed Robin, flushed with joy that Batgirl had referred to him as "dear".
* * *
Inside the invisible plane, Wonder Woman made some adjustments to her Purple Healing Ray, and soon, both heroines were strapped to the appropriate apparatus. Wonder Woman threw the switch, and a moment later, the process was complete.
Wonder Woman, now in the body of Batgirl, spoke first: "How do you feel?"
"I'm OK," replied Batgirl, now inhabiting the Amazon's voluptuous frame.
"Fine," said Wonder Woman. "Now, let's brief each other on our personalities. We don't want anyone to suspect we've made a switch."
After preparing each other, Wonder Woman said, "Now remember: Your secret identity is Diana Prince, and you work at Military Intelligence. You should have no trouble finding super criminals with which to do battle."
"And you're Barbara Gordon," came the star-spangled woman's reply. "Librarian."
"Oh, and I'll just bet those crooks are all over the library!" said Wonder Woman, sarcastically. "I can throw a Batarang at them if they talk above a whisper!"
"Knock it off!" commanded Batgirl. "Now, go have Robin drive you to the Batgirlcycle. Then go to my -I mean your- apartment."
"Right," agreed Wonder Woman. "And you go to mine. Are you sure you can handle flying the invisible plane?"
"Of course," replied Batgirl.
"All right then," said Wonder Woman. "We meet back here in twenty-four hours and see who has the better crimefighting career."
"Agreed," replied Batgirl.
Wonder Woman exited the plane and walked toward Robin. "Is everything OK, Batgirl?" asked the Boy Wonder.
"Yeah," replied Wonder Woman. "She just wanted to show me how we could find Catwoman again."
"Oh, that's OK," replied Robin. "We can use the Batcomputer for that. Say... that reminds me, how about that tour of the Batcave? Would you be interested?"
"Sure," replied Wonder Woman. "Why not?"
* * *
Batgirl landed the invisible plane where Wonder Woman had instructed. She then entered the apartment of Diana Prince. Feeling somewhat spent from her experience, she decided to take a shower. Afterward, she relaxed and lounged around the apartment. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Still in her bathrobe, she got up to answer it. Opening the door, she was surprised to see a man in an army colonel's uniform. She stared, and her mouth opened in surprise at the sight of the man's handsome ruggedness. "Diana?" the man said. "Did you forget about my coming over tonight?"
"Oh!" replied Batgirl. This must be Wonder Woman's boyfriend, Steve Trevor. The one she said was always after her to get her to marry him. Why Wonder Woman didn't do that, Batgirl couldn't imagine. But what was he doing here? Wonder Woman had told Batgirl that Steve didn't know her secret identity!
"Don't you remember?" asked Steve. "You agreed that I should come over tonight, after Wonder Woman gave me the brush-off again. I thought we'd go over some of the files at work."
Batgirl didn't understand why Wonder Woman hadn't ever been intimate or at least paid a little more attention to Steve. After all, he was very handsome. "Er, all right," she replied. "Let me get dressed. Come on in and have a seat."
"I brought the files with me," said Steve as he entered.
* * *
Back at the Batcave, Wonder Woman, in the guise of Batgirl, felt Robin's hands as he removed the blindfold that prevented her from seeing the secret entrance to the Batcave. "Sorry about that, Batgirl," said Robin, "But we need to keep our identities secret from each other. I wish we didn't have to, but..."
"Oh, that's all right Robin," replied Wonder Woman. "I understand."
"Let me show you around," said Robin, taking Wonder Woman by the hand.
The tour lasted for several hours. Wonder Woman acted impressed at every detail Robin was sharing, primarily because she found Robin's young and virile good looks so attractive. She wanted to stay near him. Robin, on the other hand, couldn't help but notice the newfound interest Batgirl was showing in him. Soon, it became apparent that he would have to make an attempt to get closer to the masked woman.
"You know, Batgirl, it's getting late," said Robin. "Soon it will be light outside. I was thinking..."
"Yes?" prompted Wonder Woman.
"I was thinking that maybe you could, er..., spend the rest of the night here, in the Batcave," said the Boy Wonder. "I could take you back to your Batgirlcycle tomorrow night, so that you could go home under the cover of darkness."
"Stay here?" replied Wonder Woman. "In the Batcave? Alone?"
"No," replied Robin nervously. "I..., er..., that is..., er..., I could stay with you." There. He had said it.
Wonder Woman thought about what Robin was suggesting. She could see that Robin was very interested in Batgirl, in spite of what Batgirl's feelings were. All Robin needed was a little encouragement to overpower the real Batgirl with his charms, once the two heroines switched back. If she slept with him, the Boy Wonder would no doubt become more aggressive at pursuing a more permanent relationship with Batgirl. The real Batgirl would eventually have to surrender to his attractiveness. So Wonder Woman, now completely under the spell of the young crimefighter's allure, said: "I think I'd like that."
* * *
Meanwhile, back at Diana Prince's apartment, Batgirl was falling victim to another man's charms. She found Wonder Woman's boyfriend so attractive that she couldn't help herself. She desperately wanted to feel his tender touch. There was nothing wrong in that, she thought. However, the way Wonder Woman acted, it was clear the Amazon only considered her relationship with Steve as platonic. But Batgirl wondered how Steve felt. So she decided to find out.
"Steve?" asked Batgirl, now dressed as Diana Prince.
"Yes, Diana?" replied Steve.
"Why are you always chasing after Wonder Woman?" asked Batgirl.
"Er..., well..., er..., the costume, I guess," replied Steve, somewhat taken aback by the question. "Wonder Woman really looks good in those blue, star-spangled briefs."
"And the red and gold bustier?" added Batgirl.
"And the red and gold bustier," agreed Steve.
Batgirl found herself so strongly attracted to Steve's handsome ruggedness that she decided to press a bit further. "You mean to say that you'd make love to any woman who wore a Wonder Woman costume to bed?" she asked.
"Oh no," nervously replied Steve. "Wonder Woman is one of a kind. I could never love anyone just because of a costume."
"I have a Wonder Woman costume," said Batgirl in an obvious attempt to seduce Steve. Batgirl would have some fun while in Wonder Woman's body, after all. If she could get Steve to lie down with her, Wonder Woman would eventually have to stop being such a tease to him and submit to a more serious relationship. It wouldn't make any difference to Wonder Woman whether Steve thought he was having sex with Diana Prince or Wonder Woman, since they were the same person. And her secret identity would be safe, because Steve would just think that it was Diana to whom he had made love. It was just that Batgirl was so attracted to Steve that she just had to get him to make love to her. She thought: Robin, indeed! I'll have myself a real man, and use Wonder Woman's body to get him!
"You do?" asked Steve.
"Sure," replied Batgirl. "Let me go put it on and I'll show you."
* * *
Robin took Batgirl's hand and led her to a large bed in a corner of the Batcave. "This is where I sleep if I have to stay in the Batcave for any length of time," said Robin.
"It looks very comfortable," replied Wonder Woman.
"Here, let me help you," said the young masked man as he bent down and picked up the crimefightress in his arms. The cowled woman draped her arms around the boy's neck and looked longingly into his eyes.
Robin carried his bundle to the bed and gently laid her down. "Er, uh..., you know, Batgirl, I've..., er..., never done this before," he admitted nervously."That's all right," replied Wonder Woman, as she reached behind her back to unfasten the skintight Batgirl costume. "This is my first time, too."
Robin was overjoyed with the idea that he was getting Batgirl's cherry! The woman he loved had not slept with anyone before. She chose him! His penis, already threatening to burst through his green shorts, grew even harder at the news.
Gently, the Boy Wonder removed his cape and tunic. Wonder Woman, having removed her own cape and the upper portion of the Batgirl costume to reveal her breasts, reached up and caressed Robin's bare chest. Robin got closer, and grabbing the lower portion of Batgirl's costume, pulled the unitard over the woman's knees down to her ankles. He then pulled his own shorts off.
Staring at the woman's voluptuous love mound, Robin asked: "What shall we do first?"
"I don't know," replied Wonder Woman. "Like I said before. This is new to me. But you're the man. You're supposed to be dominant."
Without another word, Robin grasped the nearly naked crimefightress' knees and split her legs apart. He lowered himself down, into a perfect position from which he could aim his penis into her gaping vagina. As he got closer and touched the woman's nether region with the head of his penis, the woman closed her eyes and let out a soft moan.
Finding that the entrance to joy was moist, Robin continued his penetration. His excitement grew as he pumped his hips to and fro. The woman responded with a counter-tempo of gyrations, punctuated by gasps and moaning that grew louder with each thrust. Soon, Robin could feel the not-unfamiliar growth toward climax he had learned from his experiments in masturbation; Research on the very bed upon which he was now showing his mastery as a result of that fine-tuning.
The couple climaxed together, and Robin exited the woman and rolled over on his back.
Wonder Woman rolled over onto her side, and draped her arm around the broad shoulders of the masked teenager. She still had on her Batgirl mask, but beyond that, they were both naked in bed. Robin turned to her and kissed her. Wonder Woman kissed back. "That was wonderful, darling," said Robin. "You've made me the happiest man on earth. You know, a lot of people think Robin the Boy Wonder is gay, just because he hangs around with Batman and wears tights. But now I think we've laid that rumor to rest. Thank you."
"I enjoyed it too," said Wonder Woman. "But now, I must get back. Drive me to my Batgirlcycle?"
"Aw, can't I just drive you home?" pleaded the Boy Wonder. "Now that we have slept together, I think you should at least let me know who you really are under that cowl."
"No, I'd better not," replied Wonder Woman as she got up from the bed and put on her Batgirl costume.
* * *
While Wonder Woman and Robin were entertaining each other, Batgirl returned from the bedroom and appeared in front of Steve Trevor. She placed her hands on the waist of the familiar red, blue and gold costume of Wonder Woman she had put on. "Well Steve, how do I look?" she asked, as she stood on her red-booted legs that were apart in a way that added to her provocative posture.
"You look like the real Wonder Woman, Diana," replied Steve. He did not think for a moment that it in fact was the real Wonder Woman's body at which he found himself leering, but only that of his heretofore mild-mannered secretary, Diana Prince.
"Do I look enough like her to make you want to lie down with me?" asked Batgirl.
Taken aback, Steve said: "No, Diana, as attractive as you are in that costume, I'm afraid I'll have to decline your invitation. I must remain true to Wonder Woman." He paused a moment, looking her over, then nervously said: "Perhaps I'd better be going."
Batgirl was frustrated. She thought for sure that Steve would fall victim to her appearance as Wonder Woman. She had to try a different approach, and had to do it fast before Steve left.
So Batgirl came up with a new plan. "No Steve," she said. "Please don't go. I'll just have a seat over here."
Not wanting to make his secretary feel embarrassed for throwing herself at his feet, Steve agreed to stay. "All right, Diana," he said. "I'll stay."
"Thanks Steve," replied Batgirl. "And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. It's just that this costume makes me feel so sexy. I can imagine why Wonder Woman likes hers so much. I hope you don't mind it if I keep it on for a little while."
"Not at all," said Steve, glad that Diana would stay on display for a while.
Batgirl sat in a chair directly across from Steve. Steve looked back down at the papers on which he was working. A few moments later, when he glanced back up, he saw that Diana had shifted her position in her chair so that she was lying partially on her right side. The top of her Wonder Woman costume had been pulled down so that the gold-encrusted eagle was just beneath her now-exposed breasts. With her left hand, Diana held the crotch of her star-spangled blue satin briefs out of the way as she began stroking her clitoris with her first and middle fingers.
Steve was mesmerized. As he continued to stare, Batgirl changed her position so that she was now erect, but lying partially on her left leg, with her right leg crossed over to give Steve a good look at her partially uncovered vagina.
Steve started breathing heavily. Batgirl's plan to make him want her seemed to be working. She proceeded to remove her Wonder Woman costume, except for her boots, bracelets, tiara, and belt. She sat with her legs far apart and once again used the fingers of her left hand to split apart her lower lips. She was staring directly at Steve with a look of desire.
Then, Batgirl closed her eyes as she brought her knees together and began stroking her clitoris once again. Soon, her crotch and fingers were wet with vaginal juices. As she moaned with ecstasy, she thought, I've always wondered what Wonder Woman felt when she masturbated. Now, I know.
Leaning back, Batgirl looked at Steve. She noticed a bulge in his pants that was quickly growing larger. She could tell that he was about to lose his self-control, but needed a little more coaxing. So she removed her belt and leaned back, careful to show her naked breasts and her crotch. Finally, she laid on the floor, and crossing her wrists and placing her hands just above her crotch, partially obscuring it, she said: "Take me, Steve. Take me now."
Steve Trevor immediately leapt to his feet and in one swift motion pulled his trousers and shorts to his ankles. He fell onto the woman, and their stomachs slapped as Steve pushed his penis all the way in.
Taken somewhat by surprise, Batgirl could only wheeze at Steve's entrance into her. She gyrated her hips in an effort to add to the sensation, but all too soon, it was over. Steve had been ready to cum almost as soon as he saw her enter the room in her Wonder Woman costume.
Extracting himself from the vagina he thought belonged to his secretary, Steve said: "I know that was quick, Diana, but the fun is just beginning. Open your mouth."
Batgirl could not understand what had happened. It was her idea to seduce Steve into thinking he was having sex with his beloved Wonder Woman. But now, Steve had clearly gained control of the situation. She opened her mouth in anticipation.
"That's it Diana," said Steve as he placed his penis inside the willing woman's mouth.
Batgirl was amazed at how quickly the man's member had hardened after having just been used. She licked for all she was worth, and when he came again, Batgirl quickly swallowed every drop.
* * *
As Wonder Woman was fastening the Batgirl costume's utility belt, Robin, now dressed, grabbed her shoulders and said: "One last kiss."
Wonder Woman reached up to embrace the Boy Wonder and return the kiss, but in so doing, she let go of the utility belt. It clattered on the floor of the Batcave and loosened one of the tablets Batgirl had used to erase the memory of Catwoman the night before. Instantly, the gas enveloped the two lovers, who barely had time to unlock their lips from each other.
A few moments later, the couple regained their senses. "Robin?" asked Wonder Woman. "How...? Where...? Is this the Batcave? How did I get here? Robin?"
"Batgirl?" replied the Boy Wonder. "What are you doing here? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, I think," replied Wonder Woman. "But why did you call me 'Batgirl'? I'm Wonder Woman!"
"Wonder Woman?" replied Robin. "No, you're not. Look!"
Wonder Woman looked in a mirror. "Something's very wrong here," she said. "Why do I look like Batgirl? I am Wonder Woman!"
"Wait here," said Robin. "I'll call Wonder Woman on the Justice League transmitter. She'll straighten this out!"
"But I'm Wonder Woman!" protested Wonder Woman, as Robin attached a blindfold to her eyes and proceeded to the rendezvous point where Wonder Woman had earlier appeared.
* * *
While Batgirl was still lying on the floor in delight, Steve got up and refastened his pants. "Thank you, Diana," he said. "For a wonderful evening. I guess you were right. It's the costume that makes a woman a wonder."
"Glad to be of help, Steve," said Batgirl.
"How about some breakfast?" asked Steve.
"Sure," replied Batgirl. "Just let me put some clothes on."
"No need to on my account," said Steve with a crooked grin.
"Oh?" replied Batgirl. "I should go to the restaurant naked? You are a rascal, Steve Trevor!"
Just then, the phone rang. It was a special tone that Wonder Woman had told Batgirl meant that the Justice League communicator was being used to make contact. "I'll get it!" cried Batgirl.
On the other end of the line was Robin. Batgirl listened, then said: "I'll be right there!" and hung up. She turned to Steve and said: "Sorry Steve, but I'll have to take a rain check on that breakfast. Maybe we'll do it again sometime."
"'Maybe we'll do it again sometime'?" repeated Steve with incredulity."Look, Diana, we just had the most fantastic lovemaking session in the history of men and women. Your body was made for sex! And now you want to give me the brush-off because of a lousy phone call? Who was that, anyway? Another lover?"
"So my body was 'made for sex'?" replied Batgirl, aghast at the thought of Robin, the Boy Wonder, being mistaken for a lover. "Is that all I am to you? A body for sex? Well, Steve Trevor, perhaps you'd better go! Maybe you can find someone else with a Wonder Woman costume to wear for you! Or, better yet, get one to wear yourself while you masturbate!" She added as she slammed the door.
I guess that Steve Trevor isn't such a great catch after all, she thought. Wonder Woman can have him!
After the two heroines returned to normal, Wonder Woman asked Batgirl: "Well, how did it go? I mean, having super powers isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?"
"I guess not," agreed Batgirl. "And I'm sorry about you losing your memory and all that. I should have been more careful storing those capsules in my utility belt. By the way, why was it loose? Were you taking it off or something?"
"I don't remember," replied Wonder Woman. "Maybe I had to go to the bathroom."
"Yeah, that must be it," agreed Batgirl. "I can tell because my stomach doesn't feel so good."
"Neither does mine," said Wonder Woman. "And I have this funny taste in my mouth."
"So, what did you do during your one day as Wonder Woman?" asked Wonder Woman.
"I spent it as Diana Prince," said Batgirl. "You see, Steve Trevor came over to your apartment and...,"
"Oh!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "That's right! We needed to review some files. I forgot to tell you. I guess you had a pretty boring night after all. I'll bet you'll be glad to get back into action as Batgirl."
"Not until Barbara Gordon's had something to eat first," replied Batgirl.
"Oh! Look at the time!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "I'll have to get back to the office before I'm missed. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to get going. Perhaps we'll try it again sometime?"
"Not on your life!" replied Batgirl. "I'll stay being Batgirl, and you stay being Wonder Woman!"
When Barbara Gordon finally got home, she was famished. She went to her refrigerator, opened the door, and said to herself: "Let's see. Pickles and strawberry ice cream. That should do the trick!" Then, she thought to herself: "Pickles and ice cream?! Why do I crave pickles and ice cream?! Oh, no! It couldn't be!"
When Diana Prince showed up at work, she couldn't understand why Steve Trevor was giving her the cold shoulder. Sure, she was a few hours late that day, but she had been late before.
Then, at the end of the day, she was called into Steve's office. Maybe now I'll get an explanation, she thought. Instead, she received a severe tongue-lashing from Steve, during which he criticized her performance, muttering something about what had happened the night before, and earlier that day. Perhaps Batgirl had pissed Steve off somehow. At the end of the tirade, Steve handed Diana a pink slip, and told her her services were no longer required.
Diana was stunned. She had been fired! She quickly left the office, not bothering to clean her desk. She went home determined to find out what had happened. She would find Batgirl and go over every detail of the night before.
Diana Prince changed into Wonder Woman and took to the skies in her invisible plane. She was flying toward Barbara Gordon's apartment when she spied a bank robbery in progress. Quickly, she swooped down, landed her plane, and entered the bank. She said to the robbers: "Mind if I join the party, boys?"
One of the bank robbers turned around and cried: "Wonder Woman! Get her, boys!"
One of the robbers lunged at the superheroine. Wonder Woman tried to step aside, but was hit directly in her midsection. With a "Whoof!" she fell over. The robber fell atop her and raised his fist to strike another blow.
Surprised at her miscalculation, Wonder Woman strained her muscles to throw off her attacker, but found that her super strength was gone! The crook then landed a blow to her temple, knocking the superheroine unconscious. Fortunately for Wonder Woman, sirens from the approaching police forces frightened away the robbers, who made a clean getaway.
Moments later, the police arrived. Shortly thereafter, Batgirl appeared, then Robin. Batgirl couldn't understand why Robin was staring, almost leering at her.
The two masked crimefighters approached Wonder Woman, who was just then regaining consciousness. "What happened?" asked Batgirl of the fallen superheroine.
"Batgirl!" exclaimed the injured Amazon. "I don't know. But somehow, I lost my super powers. I can only think that it must have been related to our switch."
"I've been feeling strange, too," replied Batgirl. "Maybe we'd better check the equipment in your plane."
"Everything checks out," Wonder Woman said to Batgirl. "I don't know how I could have lost my super powers unless... Wait a minute! Batgirl! Just EXACTLY what did you and Steve do last night?"
Batgirl told the story.
"You did WHAT?!" exclaimed Wonder Woman. "Oh no! I'm ruined!"
"What's wrong, Wonder Woman?" asked Batgirl. "I thought you and Steve were, well, you know..."
"No, Steve and I are NOT 'you know'!" cried Wonder Woman. "We couldn't be! It is an Amazon curse: If I have sex with a man, I lose my super powers! Permanently!"
"Well, you were the one who said super powers didn't matter, so I guess that's one on you!" said Batgirl.
"You little snit!" cried Wonder Woman. "I'll..." Wonder Woman reached for Batgirl. But before the larger woman could land the intended blow, Batgirl gave her a chop in the back of the neck that sent the despoiled ex-superheroine reeling.
The next day, Barbara Gordon got her worst fears confirmed. "Are you sure doctor?" she asked.
"Congratulations!" replied the doctor. "Now, for the record, what is the father's name?"
"Er..., I don't know," replied Barbara.
"In that case, Miss Gordon," said the doctor as he cleared his throat, "May I recommend some counseling?"
"No thank you, doctor," said Barbara. "I want to keep the baby."
A few months later, when she began to "show", Barbara Gordon was disowned by her strait-laced father and forced to quit her job at the library. She entered the Wayne Foundation's Home for Unwed Mothers. She had given up her activities as Batgirl immediately after learning of her condition, for fear that her vigorous physical activities might harm her baby. She had attempted to contact Diana Prince to find out who the father was, but Miss Prince was nowhere to be found. Due to the memory-erasing gas, Wonder Woman could not recall the details of that night, so she would have been of little use anyway. Barbara considered that it might have been one of the Catwoman's henchmen. But since the Catwoman had not harassed her since their earlier encounter, Barbara believed that her Batgirl identity was still unknown to the villainess. So, Barbara concluded that Catwoman was not responsible.
Meanwhile, Diana Prince had not gotten pregnant with Steve Trevor's child, and thus had no grounds for a paternity suit. (Her sexual harassment case was thrown out, since she could not relate her experiences, owing to her loss of memory.) So she found a new job as a waitress at a truckstop outside of town. She had tried to return to her role as Princess of Paradise Island, but when her sister Amazons learned of her despoliation, she was defrocked, stripped of her costume and accessories, and banished. To supplement her income, she wears a replica of her Wonder Woman apparel she bought at a Halloween costume store, much to the satisfaction of her clients.
The Catwoman also retired due to pregnancy, as, using the Batcomputer, Robin found her. Robin's newfound confidence had the effect of bringing Catwoman under his charms, and soon the pair had had intimate relations. Catwoman, too, had been infatuated with the young teenager's bulge in his tights.
Robin never saw Batgirl again, Batgirl never saw Steve Trevor again, and Wonder Woman never saw Robin again. | 2 |
4,619 | Irene Chapter13 Last one | "Okay, girls, how shall we do this? I think maybe the best deal would be to go up to Irene's room where we will have more room to sprawl some bodies around. Irene, is the book still in your room?"
"Yes, Dad, it's there. All of us can lay on the bed and you can use one of us as the sample to show Elaine whatever you want. Or maybe even a couple of us to show her some differences in girls' pussies. We have gone through this before, so we know pretty much what will go on. Elaine can watch as you go through the parts list on the pussy and explain what they are and what some of them do."
I said, "Okay, let's all go up and get settled. We can begin with the bit about all the parts and go from there." So we all went up the stairs into Irene's bedroom. The girls got on the bed, and I picked Irene as the sample for Elaine to look at as I went through the class. She got set up on the bed with her legs apart and her pussy ready. I took one hand, as I had before, and opened it up wide. Elaine opened her eyes quite wide, staring at the pussy. "Gee, Mr. Stone, I've never seen a pussy open like that before. It's all pink and wet looking. This is very interesting already."
I started at the top and showed her each item and explained what its name was and what its function was. When I got to the vagina, I paused and said I had forgotten something. Letting go of her pussy, I went downstairs and picked up a package I had brought home, and took it back up with me. When I got there, I told the girls I had a surprise for all of them. I opened the package and took out a speculum and showed it to them.
"This, girls, is a speculum, the instrument a doctor uses to open your pussy for that horrible exam you all hate. I thought I would show you how it works and what he sees when he does the exam. It might give you an idea of what he does and how, and maybe the next time you won't be so nervous because you will know what's coming. I'm going to insert this in Irene's pussy and show you what the inside of the vagina looks like. So watch closely, and you will all have a chance to get close and have a good look. Irene, I have several of these, and you can have a look at one of the other girls' insides. Okay, girls, I explained to you about the parts of the pussy you could see. Now we'll look at one that is hidden inside called the cervix. It is actually the opening in the abdomen that the baby comes out of during childbirth. It is the neck of the uterus, also called the womb. It isn't very large as you will see, but it expands a great deal and stretches enough to let the baby through to the outside. The reason childbirth takes so long is to let that neck stretch large enough. Because it stretches so far, it also is what causes a lot of the pain during childbirth."
"I'll put some lubricant on it and insert it in the pussy, and that will open the pussy enough so you can see inside to the back where you will see the cervix, a little round finger-like thing sticking out of the wall of the vagina. It's maybe a little larger than your thumb. So, here goes, and Irene, don't be afraid, this won't hurt at all. Just relax as much as you can. That will help the muscles at the opening expand." I put the lubricant on and gently inserted it in her pussy, then opened the mouth of the pussy as far as needed to see the cervix. I put the latch on to hold it open and stepped back. "Okay, girls, have a peek. You can also see all those membranes that make up the walls of the pussy." Gail and Elsie moved up close with Elaine and peered in, taking turns at looking in the narrow opening in the speculum. A bunch of 'Ohs' and 'ahhs' followed, and each girl had a good look inside. When they were finished, I asked if they saw the little hole in the middle of the cervix. They all nodded. "Okay, that is what the doctor is looking at when he does the exam. He uses a small scraping device to scrape some cells off the inside of that hole as well as the outside. He puts the scrapings on a microscope slide and sends it to a lab for inspection to see if there are any cancer cells there. So, it takes a couple of days, and then you call his office, and they tell you the results. That's all there is to that part of the exam."
I removed the speculum from Irene's pussy and asked if anyone would let Irene see theirs inside. All three hands went up. Irene said she would like to see Gail's pussy, so Gail moved onto the bed and got into position. I showed Irene how I had opened her pussy and latched the speculum open so she could take her time and have a good view. She was very surprised at how it looked inside. "I never really thought about what it looked like inside, it was just there. Wow, that's great. Dad, I can't thank you enough for all this. It was really an eye-opener for me. I'll bet we are the only four girls around that have seen that."
I told them that this was to be kept a secret, no mention of it outside this room. "Otherwise, I might have a line around the block of other girls wanting to see it too. They can watch the doctor if they ask to. Usually, he will let the nurse hold a mirror and props them up so they can watch the whole procedure. You girls can do the same. The only difference will be you can see him take the samples and put them on a slide. But now you know what goes on down there when you go in for that terrible exam. It isn't really so terrible now that you know and have seen what he does. So, are there any questions? If not, I'll take that thing out of Gail and let her relax." The girls looked at each other and shook their heads no. I removed the speculum and put it away. I told the girls that now I wanted them to all look at each other's pussies and note that each one was different, some were larger in some areas, some had larger inside or outside lips, some had the pee hole in a different spot. They all began to check out each other in pairs.
They all had a good look and then looked at me for direction. Irene told me she was very glad we had a chance to see all these things. "That puts us in a very select group of girls. We know what's down there now. I guess now is the time that Elaine gets her big surprise, huh? I know I am ready for it, and I think the other girls are too, so let's begin the big adventure."
I went through the same procedure I had with the other girls, and we had a great time watching Elaine as she had her first orgasm. Then the others listened to Elaine as she tried to describe the feeling she had during the orgasm. "I lost all track of time, and my whole body just went off by itself. It was like being on a cloud somewhere. I could feel all those contractions and the things my pussy was doing, but couldn't do a thing about them. That was truly amazing, the most exciting thing that ever happened to me. Wow, I sure am glad I came here today! This will change my whole life for sure. Irene, I owe you and the girls, and especially your dad a biiiiig thanks for giving me this education and that GREAT surprise you talked about. I can see now why you kept it a secret all this time. I can see a very bright future that wasn't there before. I had heard all those stories from girls about how their sex games went, and I wasn't sure I even wanted to try any of them. Some of the girls painted a rather bad picture about how it hurt, wasn't any fun, and things like that. Now I know it can be wonderful when done with the right person."
"Elaine, you have had a great adventure."But it isn't something you want to spread around everywhere. What happened here today must stay here. I don't want any repercussions from parents, and I don't need a long line of girls waiting for their turn. And remember, don't have any kind of sex play until you get on the pill to protect yourself!
The girls all nodded and said they would be very, very careful. After that, each had their turn, and a fine time was had by all.
This brings to an end the saga of Irene and her friends. They eventually acquired boyfriends and had a great sex life. I have attempted to bring you a story combined with some education and humor. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to all of you who wrote and expressed your views of the story. There will be more stories at a later date.
Matt H. | 3 |
4,636 | The Gagnons in Paris | "Wow, Alois, that's beautiful!" Gerard exclaimed, examining his cousin's erection. His own cock was twitching and growing with excitement as the two boys stood naked together. Alois' younger sister Marie Suzette stroked her brother's shaft.
"It's 27 centimeters long," Marie said proudly, "And 8 centimeters thick. It's a wonderful prick, n'est-ce pas?"
"You bet!" Gerard burbled. He was practically slobbering to taste it. Gerard was 15 and his cock was more modest, 20 centimeters long by 6 wide, but it gave him much joy, and his fertile testes fed a limitless supply of sperm which allowed him to ejaculate seven or eight times a day without effort.
"Alois can cum at least eight times a day," Marie rattled off, a veritable encyclopedia of information about her brother's rigid prick. "He has wonderful balls and I love his butt, Gerard, see isn't it cute? It scrunches up when he cums and he shoots sometimes two or three meters!" Gerard just nodded, his eyes wide.
"I've never seen a boy suck off another boy, could you boys do that for me please?" Marie pleaded, playing with her underage nipples, because they always itched something terrible when she got her brother hard. "Are you gay, Gerard?"
"No," he said, "I'm bisexual. But yes, I'd love to suck Alois' beautiful cock and drink his cum. I bet he tastes good!"
"It's good, man," Alois declared. "Marie lives for it, don't you?"
"Yes!" Marie nodded, "And he makes so much, Gerard, really it is amazing. Why don't you suck each other and let me watch? I will masturbate while you do it."
The boys agreed. Despite his bisexuality, Gerard had never 69'd, and Alois had never had a cock in his mouth at all. Marie's idea was a turn on to them. Marie was quite the little organizer and directed the boys to lie down on the carpet, heads to groins. Then she knelt down and took a quick lick on Gerard's dick while randy Alois rubbed her bare butt and stuck a finger in her sweet 10-year-old cunt. "You're going to love this cock, Alois, it's flowing already."
"Yeah, Alois!" Gerard said through gritted teeth; his preteen cousin even for that brief oral encounter gave indisputable proof of a masterful suck technique. "She's a good cocksucker, to be sure!"
"Come on, Marie, let me get my mouth on that sweet cock!" Alois begged, and Gerard moved his head at the same time to inhale his cousin's wonderful crotch smell and then opened his mouth and began deep-throating him. Though neither boy could speak with their mouths stuffed full of hard randy cockmeat, their bodies glowed with excitement and Marie was frigging herself senseless and encouraging them with practiced obscenities, a droll habit she had picked up from her very liberal cousins and their parents. "Suck that fucking dick! Come on, Gerard, worship my brother's huge cock! Alois, doesn't his prick taste good? Come on guys, fill your bellies with each other's tasty cock cream!"
Being young, grossly oversexed, and frenzied with the novelty of the act, both boys exploded quickly and after letting his cousin's dick detumesce Gerard reluctantly pulled off and said, "Alois, that is the best tasting cum I have ever, ever had! It's wonderful!"
Alois smiled, licking his lips, savoring his first load of cock cream (other than his own!) "I can see why Marie Suzette is such a cock-crazed slut," he said. "I never realized how good cum tastes!"
"It's the best thing in the world!" Marie declared. "I want you guys to fuck me now, okay?"
Gerard was instantly hard at that suggestion. "I never fucked a girl so young as you," he said, "But your pussy sure looks pretty."
"Her twat's like a furnace, Gerard, hot and tight!" Alois said with a broad open smile. The children were so eager and yet totally innocent in their sexual adventures. Never a thought crossed their minds that anything they did might be immoral or illegal or in any way dubious at all. Incest, bi-sexuality--these terms meant nothing to them. Fucking and cumming meant everything. Marie doted on orgasm, Alois would sacrifice his life itself for a hard cum, and Gerard wasn't able to fall asleep without having had at least six ejaculations in a day.
Gerard got down between his cousin's legs and ate out her cunt, something Alois didn't do very much, and she started orgasming right away, getting even wetter. His cock throbbed with horny life and he sank into her, thrusting gently at first then harder as she begged him to fuck her brains out. Alois had never done a threesome and was kind of at a loss until he began to notice the flexing of Gerard's buttocks. Marie had so often commented on how cute Alois' butt was when he fucked and especially when he came, and he began to share his sister's fascination. He playfully rubbed his hands over Gerard's asscheeks and marveled at their softness, yet they were firm and muscled too. Growing bolder, he pulled them apart and smiled at how the boy's anus winked at him, almost like an invitation. Alois' huge prick brushed up against Gerard's butt and the soft silky skin aroused him such that a dollop of sweet pre-cum leaked out. Briefly Alois thought about fucking Gerard's ass then decided that he'd think about that some more, meanwhile he was going to give Marie his dick to suck on.
"Gosh, Marie, you really fuck good," Gerard marveled. His cock slid in and out of her tight little cunt with ease and she was so enthusiastic. His was only the second cock that she had properly fucked. Aside from her brother she'd so far only seduced one other boy and he was a bit of a disappointment, an eleven-year-old schoolmate whose cock was small and didn't squirt yet, but nonetheless it was fun to experiment. Marie really liked Gerard's cock and thought he had a good technique. He poked his cock not merely forward but to the left and to the right too, stretching her in ways that Alois' monster-dick hadn't. She loved to be filled up with cock and she gripped him with her tight cunt-sheath and he just stammered, "Damn! Merde! So fucking hot and tight!"
Gerard grabbed his cousin's hips and roughly pulled her toward him, getting so deep into her his balls bounced against her asshole. "Bite my nipples!" she begged him. Alois was really turned on and made a mental note to try that himself sometime, and almost without thinking about it he noticed himself cumming in his sister's mouth. "Oh, sweet fuck!" Alois murmured, relishing his hot spend. How hungrily his little sister swallowed his tasty load!
Gerard then pulled out and wanked his cock and sent a huge load of jism all over Marie Suzette's chest and belly. "That's an OOB cum!" he declared, adding "out of body, get it?"
The saucy child lazily played with her cousin's cum, swirling it around on her nips and into her belly button, and scooping it into her mouth. She smiled coyly as she painted her lips with his gooey white semen. "Was I good?" she asked him, "Did I give you a good fucking Gerard?"
"You bet!" the boy wheezed. "You're the best fuck I ever had Marie, really hot!"
"You fucked a lot of girls?" Alois asked.
"Not really. Three girls counting Marie."
"Alois' fucked four girls!" Marie boasted.
"And according to one of them, when word gets out about my cock, I'm going to have a parade of girls to pick from," Alois added with insouciant charm, not sounding boastful. "I love to fuck," he said, again with such boyish innocence that none of them remarked on the statement's fatuity.
Gerard asked, "Have you fucked your mom? She's a real fox, Alois, I'd sure like to fuck her!"
"Yeah, I think she'd be great to fuck," Alois agreed, "But she's kind of square, you know. Mama and Papa are both really conservative, aren't they Marie?"
"Well, kinda," Marie said, "But Alois beats off in front of her and she holds her tits up for him so he can blow his load on them. A lot of mothers don't do that."
"Hey, that's neat!" Gerard said. "I haven't fucked my mom either, but I think Pierre has," referring to his sixteen-year-old brother. "I mean, once when Dad was in Toulouse on business, I could hear her fucking someone in the bedroom and I think Pierre and I were the only other ones here, so that's what I think. Anyway, there's always hope. But gee, your mom is really sexy. I love her tits."
"I wish Mama and Papa were more modern like your parents," Marie declared. "You know, Mama was actually shocked when Alois and I first fucked in front of them. I mean, really, how backwards!"
Temporarily fucked out (at least the boys were), the three kids got dressed.Marie kissed them both on the lips, letting them taste Gerard's cum, and the boys kissed each other too.
"You want to look at my stamp collection?" Gerard asked.
"Sure," Alois said. "I kind of like stamps. How long have you collected them?"
"For about four years now. I have a nice collection of late 19th century France and a complete collection of Ireland from 1948."
They also played a Nintendo game and watched a football (soccer) match on the satellite dish. Understand that the actors in our little drama are perfectly normal children, with the same interests and curiosity as others, but in addition, they are prodigiously sexed and strive to attain orgasm at every opportunity.
That night at dinner, Alois excused himself and went to the bathroom and masturbated. He didn't feel it appropriate to jerk off right there in his Aunt and Uncle's dining room. Plus, this family always was dressed, while his family ordinarily went nude. But Alois couldn't hold off from masturbating as he kept staring at his Aunt's fabulous bosom, which threatened to pop out of her almost see-through blouse.
After dinner, with Pierre, the kids went outside to walk around the garden, and Marie asked him if it was true that he'd fucked Angelique. Pierre blushed but admitted he had, "but only twice."
"That's awesome, man!" Alois said, "Fucking right on!"
"You mean you fucked her two times or two different occasions?" Gerard asked.
Pierre cleared his throat and overcame his embarrassment. "Don't tell her I told you guys, okay? She said we should probably keep this secret because she wasn't sure how you would react, Gerard. She thinks you're kind of a blue nose, you know?"
Gerard giggled. He'd just fucked with both his cousins a few hours ago, and now he learned his mom thought he was a blue nose!
"I fucked her each time until I couldn't get it up again. Must have been about eight times apiece. Fuck, she is hot, Gerard! And she's got the best ass I've ever seen."
"Did you fuck her ass?" Alois inquired. He still remembered Gretchen Verclos and her unabashed eagerness to have his prick up her butt. It made his cock twitch just thinking how fun that had been.
"Man, how could I resist?" Pierre replied. "I mean, have you looked at that butt? It's fucking perfect! Mom's a great looking woman, Alois, she's got super tits and she's pretty, but I would be a happy man if she and I were Siamese twins connected cock to asshole. Fuck!"
"I don't know if I'd like to fuck that way," Marie Suzette mused. She picked some flowers and stuck one in her hair. "It must hurt."
Alois said, "I fucked a girl that way, Marie. She really liked it."
Marie pouted. "Just be careful, Alois. Some of those girls out there are bitches. They want to just use you for your cock. Remember, I'm your sister and you should be concentrating your fucking on me, okay?"
"Wow, you two fuck, huh?" Pierre exclaimed. "That's mucho coolo!"
"And guess what, Pierre?" Gerard put in. "Alois and I sucked each other off today, too!"
"And Gerard fucked my pussy," Marie added.
"That's great," Pierre said. "This is going to be a great time, we can all fuck around. Gerard's bi, you know that of course. Myself, I'm straight, but we can still fuck around. I like getting my cock sucked and I don't care if it's a guy or a girl."
"Well, doesn't that make you bi, too?" Marie wondered.
"Nah. Being bi means you have no sexual preferences, you like guys and girls equally, right Gerard?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I don't know. I just like cock, that's all I know for sure," Gerard answered.
Alois thought about this. He'd enjoyed sucking his cousin's prick, and the taste of the cum was indescribably good, but he really preferred fucking girls, so he decided he was straight too. Not that it really mattered a snicker doodle, fucking is fucking, he reasoned, but that's what he was: straight.
"Let's go to the tree house and fuck," Pierre suggested.
"Okay!" Marie yipped, jumping up and down, "I wanna get screwed by you, Pierre! I've only had three cocks so far, I want more, more!"
"You fucking little slut," Pierre said with a smile, stroking his cousin's blonde hair. "Come on, let's get going!"
The kids climbed up the ladder to the quite spacious tree house. There were two mattresses, rather musty and stained. "Gerard and I fuck up here pretty often, hope you don't mind the cum stains," Pierre said apologetically. Marie unfastened Pierre's pants and took out his prick. It hardened quickly in her nimble hands. It was maybe about 4 centimeters shorter than Alois' and very fat. Like Gerard, he had big balls. And when he was naked, Marie almost came on the spot, drinking in his handsome body, nicely sinewed and hard from swimming and football. Marie was really turned on by older boys and wanted to start fucking full-grown men too. That kid from school just wasn't what she wanted.
"I'm so fucking horny, Pierre," she declared. "Please hurry up and fuck me." She lay down on the mattress with her skirt up on her belly and unbuttoned her blouse to show her almost flat chest. Pierre reached for those perfect little bumps and ran his hands over them in a masterful way. "God, Marie, they're so pretty!" he whispered, almost choking. His cock was so hard he knew he had to fuck his pretty little cousin right away.
"Marie, I want you to turn over on your stomach," Pierre said. "I like to look at a girl's butt while I fuck her, especially the first time."
"Okay," Marie agreed, flopping over. Alois stood jerking his prick, then remembered Gerard was right there, and he cocked an eyebrow at the older boy. Gerard understood the implicit question and nodded vehemently and knelt down to suck Alois. Damn, Alois thought, Gerard is a super sucker, almost as good as Marie.
"Hurry up, Pierre, put that cock up my hot little cunt!" Marie barked, frantic with lust.
"All in good time, my delicious little slut cousin," Pierre said. Marie was beside herself and was falling under her oldest cousin's sway. He was so good looking, so strong, and so adult acting! Yvette had explained that men, and boys, are entitled to make up their own minds as to when and how they would fuck girls and where they would blow their wads; Pierre was the first boy who took real control of her, and she responded instinctively to it. If he told her he was going to fuck her butt, she would have gone along. She knew she could resist nothing he wanted; in fact, where cock was concerned, Marie Suzette could never resist!
After inspecting Marie's bottom at considerable length, Pierre finally put the tip of his prick to her buttery little slit. His cock tip was twice or three times the size of her aperture, but Pierre could care less. He was going to enter this wonderful little hole and judge for himself just what a hot fuck she was. It did not surprise him at all when his knob easily entered her hole, her well-explored and repeatedly-fucked cunt expanding quickly to take his charger. Holding her by the waist, Pierre groaned with delight as she wiggled under him, and she held the bedding with clenched fists, thrashing her head about and urging him on "Fuck me fuck me fuck me", like a broken record. He slid into her like a U-boat docking. Pierre's prick had a pronounced curve to it and it was very, very hard. This stimulated the sex-crazed child's cunt and tripped her to a sweet mini-cum. He playfully spanked her butt cheeks, and Marie Suzette giggled and panted, loving the sensation. Her ass was as hot as her cunt!
"Hang on," Alois told Gerard. "I have an idea!"
So saying, Alois stepped back from Gerard and went to his sister. He got on his knees and lifted her chin. Sticking his cock right over her nose, he let fly a huge cum. Marie hadn't been expecting it and blinked her eyes rapidly because so much of the goo landed right on her eyeballs! "Alois!" she screamed. "You've blinded me!"
Alois laughed like a little boy, he was so pleased with his last-minute idea, and gosh, did that cum feel good coming out! He loved to cum in and on his sister. "Make her suck you off, Gerard," Alois suggested. "She's really fucking hot!"
"Your sister has a lovely ass," Pierre commented. "Her cunt is excellent."
Though his voice sounded flat and unexcited, it was a mere feint on Pierre's part. He had a fairly wide experience with girls (and a few women) and knew that the female wants to be dominated by a male who is serenely self-confident. By disguising his almost indescribable desire for his cousin, he brought her under his command, made this pliant cock-crazed child almost insane with the need to please him. "Lift your hips up, push yourself onto me," he told her, stroking her ass. "I want to be deeper inside you."
"Yes, Pierre, yes!" she bleated.
"You two, stand back!" Pierre ordered. "I want her for myself. Do not distract her with your cocks, she is going to serve mine. Suck each other off or fuck each other, but give me some room."
"Okay, Pierre," Gerard said, deferring as always to his brother. Alois grinned, enjoying the game. He gave his cock to Gerard's mouth again.
This little slip of a girl! Pierre mused. Only ten years old and fucking like a whore. He decided he would cum in her twice, or more.
"O Pierre!" she mewled, "I wish your cock could go all the way through me and stick out my mouth! You feel so good! You are so strong!"
"You're my little fuck toy, aren't you sweetheart?"
"Yes, yes, fuck......toy....." Marie came hard.... "Oh God yes! Cumming, cumming! Fuck me, Pierre, ram my cunt! Use me for God's sake, hurt me!"
Alois looked over sharply, momentarily distracted from Gerard's mouth. Marie had just said "hurt me", the very same thing Gretchen Verclos had said. Alois made a note to explore this matter further when he was alone with her. He wondered if she'd let him spank her and twist her nipples and stuff.Boy, that sounded like it would be fun!
Pierre said, as if he were a college instructor, "I want you two to observe what Marie just said. 'Hurt me,' she said. If you examine the face of a woman when she is having an orgasm, the expression is all but indistinguishable from the face of a woman who is having her ass spanked or whipped. To the female, pain and pleasure are equivalent. It is the jagged whipsaw of their heightened senses that constitutes a woman's lust."
Desisting from his speech, he refucked Marie, speeding up his thrusts. He said nothing when he ejaculated, in fact did not alter his thrusts at all. Marie did not even notice he had cum. He continued to fuck her, making her think he was still working on it. Then he smiled as his cock softened ever so slightly. He squeezed her tiny titties with both hands and said, "Marie, dear cousin! I should have told you that I just came in you. Hold on, I am going to fuck you all over again!"
Marie was so aroused now she was cumming steadily, her cunt itched terribly and her nipples felt like someone was shoving stickpins in them, they ached so beautifully when Pierre twisted and pulled them!
Meanwhile, Gerard was sucking Alois and jerking his own cock. The boys were so wrapped up in their fun they weren't even looking at Pierre and Marie.
"Ram it into me, stud!" Marie cried out, in a paroxysm of lust. "Fuck my brains out!"
God, she loved this cock--only Alois' was better! Gerard was like a peanut compared to Pierre's cashew and Alois' brazil nut.
Alois loved the way Marie was talking, so dirty and contrary to mama's prudish ways. It was very exciting to call a cock a cock rather than a penis, and say "cum" not "orgasm". Why did their parents have to be so old-fashioned? His thoughts on the matter were put aside as he felt his semen bubble up from his balls, shoot up his shaft, and out into the mouth of his cousin. Gerard nearly choked on the quantity of sperm Alois thrust into his throat.
When at last Pierre blew his second load, Marie was totally fucked out. This had never happened to her before. She was totally sated. She felt at peace. Pierre came so hard it was almost painful. He gritted his teeth. Orgasms this intense were difficult but memorable. The only other times he came this hard was when masturbating when he used a technique he'd discovered just this year: never touching the tip or shaft, just manipulating the base of the penis. His long wand of love would wobble like a drunken sailor and when eventually the discharge hit, it would feel exactly like it did when he came in someone. The cum would fly hither and yon, spotting the carpet, hitting the walls, sticking to the TV set.
Gerard said, "Pierre, isn't she a hot fuck? I never knew girls as young as that fucked."
Pierre plopped down on the only chair in the tree house and dug out a handkerchief from his pants. He wiped his sensitive cock clean. Marie rolled over on her back with her legs wide open and put her hands over her small breasts. They felt so aroused still!
Pierre lectured them. "Listen, Marie is a perfectly normal girl. Sex is sex, right? Why should a girl have to go without when she wants it? As long as she can get her cunt open enough for a cock to go in it, I said, let them fuck!"
Gerard nodded. Alois raised a fist and said, "Right on!" Marie blinked, her smile evocative. Her dainty little fingers played with her pussy lips and clit, and she shivered happily. | 1 |
4,655 | Slip of the Tongue | "Follow me," Kevin said in an excited whisper, waving me on as he started climbing the hillside.
"What?" I asked, close behind, grabbing the trunk of a small tree and pulling myself up the steep incline.
"You'll see," he said with a grin. I had known Kevin since high school and understood at once that we were up to mischief. I followed him through a thick nest of bushes before we climbed a large boulder. Kevin sat down on the edge of the rock and opened the leather binocular case hanging from his shoulder.
"Deer?" I asked.
"Kind of," Kevin said, smiling broadly. "Take a look, just past those trees over there."
I lifted the glasses to my eyes, aimed them past the conifers, and focused. A small blonde woman was unbuttoning her blouse. My jaw fell open. I lowered the binoculars and looked again with my naked eye. "The showers?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"Can you believe it?" Kevin asked. "I love this spot. Sit down. You can still see everything, and there's no way anyone will see us up here."
I took a seat on the mossy boulder and raised the lenses. With a glimpse of Carol, a friend of Kevin's wife, a lanky dark-haired nude woman pushing her sandals under a wooden bench, I felt a shudder through my heart. I scanned the whole tent. "Are they all . . . ?" I started to ask.
"Yup. The whole gang needs a shower. Pete drenched them in that pea-green lake water when he tipped the boats. We're going to have to buy him a beer."
"Does he know about this?" I found Sarah, Kevin's wife, pushing down the bottom of her bathing suit. Her ass shone glistening white in the bright light of the afternoon sun. My blood caught fire, and I struggled to breathe.
"Just you and me, buddy. But you have to let me have a turn."
I reluctantly surrendered the spy glasses.
"Didn't I tell you to buy a pair?" He chuckled as he aimed the binoculars over the short canvas wall. "I never go camping without mine. Not since I found this spot. Oooh, isn't she sweet?"
"Who?" I asked, shading my eyes as I tried to distinguish the tiny figures below.
"The one with the tits," Kevin said. "Look at those nips!"
"Angie?" I asked, trying to remember names I hadn't really learned yet. I'd known Sarah since college, but I'd just met the rest recently.
"Angela," said Kevin. "That's right, Angela. Squeeze those titties. Momma."
"Let me," I said, reaching for the binoculars.
"In a minute," said Kevin, pulling away. "Let me watch her pull down her pants. Oh, yes. I guessed she shaved." I squinted at the distant images, desperate to see. Kevin tapped my arm with the glasses. "Here," he said. I tried to find Angela's bare cunt but was distracted by Terri's little brown muff.
"She was wearing a bikini at Jake's bar-b-que last weekend, and the wet fabric was clinging to her pussy lips. I suspected she was shaved clean. Besides, Sarah said Angela has a daddy complex, and women like that usually shave."
"Sure," I said, following Sarah into the shower. I had known my friend's wife for six years, but I had never seen her naked. Well, there were a few drunken nights when I'd imagined her that way, but Sarah looked better than I'd ever dreamed. She faced our direction as she turned on the shower. Watching her squeal as the chill water struck made my dick throb. "Wow."
"Tell me," said Kevin. "What's cooking?"
"Oh, Terri's bending over. What a hot little pussy."
"Pete says she fucks him like crazy. All kinds of kinky stuff."
"Yeah?" I asked, getting horny as hell as I watched Sarah soap her breasts.
"Lots of hot games. She likes to be spanked. You know, stuff like that."
"Trip," I said. Sarah arched her back and rinsed her hair. I nearly lost it as she tensed her round ass tight.
"One time, when we were out drinking, Pete asked me if I'd come over and help out, you know, like a threesome."
"Did you?" I asked. I stole a quick peek at Angela's pink lips but then went back to staring at Kevin's naked wife. Sarah looked so fine I couldn't care about the rest of the ladies.
"Nah," said Kevin, taking the binoculars from my hand. "Sarah would never go for it, and there's no way I could keep fucking her best friend a secret. Ah, show me your pussy, Angela. That's a good girl. If I were still single, I'd have gone for it."
"I guess so. Maybe I could lend them a hand." I laughed.
"Seriously, talk to Pete. Terri's hotter than hell, and if they considered me, they'd do you. Man, I love Angela's titties. This is her first time up here."
"How long you been watching them shower?" I asked.
"Since last summer. I went hiking and was lost for a while. I came down that way and sat here to rest. I caught Carol playing with herself in the shower, and now I sneak up here every chance I get. Come on, Terri. I'll spank your bottom."
"No shit? Last summer?"
"The trip before the last time you came with us. I wanted to show you then, but you had that foxy babe, and you wouldn't come with me."
"Chris?"
"Little tits, black pussy hair, bitty ass and long fucking legs."
"Fucker!"
"Sorry, buddy. I don't pick who takes a shower. I would have closed my eyes, you know, respect, but she was just too hot."
I laughed and wrenched the binoculars away. "You owe me," I said. "Where's Sarah?"
"Beats me. I've seen her naked. I don't have to climb rocks for that."
"She's great," I said. "I love Sarah's ass."
"Gimme those," said Kevin. "Let me find Carol."
"Over in the corner."
"Hah! There you are, you little bitch! Eat me, you wench. I hate that bitch. She never stops giving me crap. But she never takes a shower without playing with herself. She just needs a piece of Kev. I'd fuck that nasty look off your face, you bitch!" Kevin yelled a bit louder than I would have thought safe. He laughed and handed me the glasses.
I stared at Sarah for a while while she soaped her legs, catching quick glimpses of her pussy lips.
"Have you ever caught, you know, two of them?"
"Girl games?" Kevin prompted with a chuckle. "Nah, I think they do that in the tent. But you know the blonde, Cindy?"
"Yeah?" I said, scanning the shower, looking for her. "Is she down there?"
"I think so. Over by the bench."
"Yeah." I said, finding my prey. "She's gorgeous."
"Tell me about it. We once picked up this chick in college who looked just like her."
I let Cindy linger in the magnification. Her damp golden hair fell around strong shoulders. Her nipples stood tight as cherries atop her big breasts. Full hips framed her nearly naked pussy. She turned, and I realized she looked like a girl I had known all too well. Susan Jones. Susie. My girlfriend for half of my junior year at college.
Susie and I broke up because I wouldn't lick her pussy. I was young and stupid, and one night she pushed her cunt in my face, and I balked. Susie wouldn't talk to me for weeks. The thing was, I really liked her, and so I hounded her until I finally convinced her to give me another chance. Susie came over, and I devoured her little blonde pussy, my first. I was hooked; I've been a devoted cunnilinguist ever since. But I only tasted Susie's cunt once. We went to a party the next Saturday night, and just after we got there, Susie turned pale and ran out. I never heard from her again. Every time she saw me, she ran. I have always regretted letting her get away.
I swallowed and turned the binoculars back toward Sarah, watching as she talked to Carol. Terri dried herself just beyond them, rubbing her ass hard. It was all too hot.
"It was my birthday," Kevin said. "Sarah and I had been dating a few months, and we got pretty drunk. We were downtown, in Westport, and Sarah runs into this blonde who looked just like Cindy. They start jabbing, and next thing I know, we're going back to her place for a little smoke or something. I was holding my breath, hoping one thing would lead to another."
"Did it?"
"We weren't there ten minutes before this chick starts playing with Sarah's tits. Buddy, my dick was so fucking hard. Skirts are going up and panties coming down, and pretty soon I'm stroking my cock, watching this bitch go down on Sarah. The blonde's ass was in the air, and I can't believe how wet her pussy gets, and she's got her tongue all over Sarah's pussy. I was ready to shoot my load, just sitting there."
"No way," I said, watching Sarah's tits bounce as she explained something to Carol."So I don't know what to do, so I put my dick in Sarah's mouth. I wanted to boff the blonde, but you know, I wasn't sure that would be cool, so I let Sarah suck on me. Then she starts to scream like there was no tomorrow. I've never seen her so hot. I mean, she always comes when I fuck her, but not like that. Fucking wild. I just stepped back and watched her thrash, pulling this chick by the hair hard into her wet cunt. It was so cool."
"I'll bet," I said, short of breath, staring at Sarah as she pulled on a pair of pretty white panties.
"Then the chick shoves her cunt into Sarah's mouth and Sarah starts licking her. I couldn't believe Sarah would do that, but she had the blonde moaning so loud that I just managed to ram my dick into Sarah from behind before the cannon fired. There's nothing like watching chicks to get me off."
"Yeah," I said.
"Sarah made me promise never to tell anyone. You know how it is. But you're my best buddy, so I'm trusting you to keep this a secret."
"What about the blonde?"
"You know, I saw her on campus a few times after that, but she always turned pale and ran away. I guess it was too much for them. Sarah was always trying to get me to lick her pussy after that, but I can't. You know? Pussy is for fucking. A man can't be sticking his nose in there."
"Mmm," I said. "Nice tits."
"Yeah, give me another look. Is Angela still naked?"
"I think so. Over by the towels."
"Yeah, hot little cunt. I could use a piece of that. Maybe you could distract Sarah while I . . . . " Kevin laughed. "In my dreams. Oh, well. Show's over."
"Wow. Thanks, Kevin," I said, standing up and shaking the dreams from my head.
"My pleasure, buddy," said Kevin, putting away the glasses. "Wake up early tomorrow and we'll catch the next show. Six, not a minute later. Terri is always up by then. You'll have to see her morning routine to believe it. I've been dying to share this secret with you. I'm so glad you could make the trip with us."
"Yeah," I said. "You know I like you and I'll lick Sarah. Like. Like Sarah. I mean, I really like you guys. Let's go down and start the fire for dinner."
I slid down the boulder and Kevin came behind me with a crash. I helped my friend up and dusted him off.
"You all right?" I asked. Kevin looked a little pale. | 1 |
4,667 | Songs of Thanks and Praise | "Look who's here, everyone!" someone said. Then another voice added, "Teresa! We didn't know you were coming!"
"Well, since Teresa means 'the harvester', I thought I'd put in an appearance," I said. "Should be a lot of stories to gather up. How's everything going?"
"The party's just getting started," the first speaker said.
Of course I didn't recognize her--how could I? I'd never seen any of these people before, had I? I wondered how that woman knew who I was. Funny, I had pictured all the men as tall, dashing gentlemen wearing impeccably tailored suits and the women as classic ideal beauties, like Cleopatra or Helen of Troy.
"Care for something to drink?" she asked.
"Is that cider very strong?" I said. "I don't want to pass out before things get hot and heavy. Gotta save my strength and all that, you know."
"Save your strength?" A great big guy was asking. I leaned my head back and looked straight up. He looked fairly tough to me, wearing that plaid shirt and old jeans. But not altogether threatening. Besides, he was grinning. "What are your plans for this solstice evening?"
"I don't know," I said. "Thought I would just relax here for a while and meet everyone. Was I supposed to make plans? I'm new to all this. I mean, I've never actually been to one of these affairs, only read about them."
"Right now we're waiting for Ceilti to light the bonfire and then all of us are going to dance to open the festivities," he said. "Want to join us?"
I looked him over more closely as he drew nearer. Hmmm. Not bad. Wonderful deep voice. I started planning.
"Sure," I said. Then I spoke to the rest of them. "Would you like to hear a story while we're waiting?"
"What? You tell US a story!" A little bald-headed guy was laughing. "We're the ones who tell stories for YOU!"
"I know, and I love them. But I've got this one story to tell. Indulge me. You can even review it if you want," I said.
Then a skinny little woman wearing a leather miniskirt and big black boots yelled at them.
"Pipe down, you pinheads!" she shouted. "Quit laughing. I want to hear Teresa's story."
And they did pipe down. So I told my tale.
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a woman was traveling down a dirt road. Her shoulders slumped and her feet dragged. She was cold, tired and thirsty because she had been walking all day, following the directions given her by some folks in the last town she'd come through. She was a musician, a troubadour, and she hoped to find generous and appreciative patrons in the next village. Night was near and she worried that she might not find shelter. Then, in the distance, she saw a faint light. Its flickering gleam enticed her, beckoned her. Intrigued and curious, she hastened toward it.
As she approached she thought it strange that the light didn't grow in brightness. When she reached it, she found it partially hidden by the branches of a tree. Close by the tree she found a group of men and women who surrounded a kettle of hot, fragrant soup. They were reading manuscripts and books or scribbling lines on paper. They must, she thought, be the group of maverick writers she'd heard about from someone on the road. So intent were they on their work that they didn't notice her approach.
"Hello," she said, announcing herself. "May I share your soup?"
One man looked up and smiled. "A visitor! Please join us. We've plenty of soup here. You're welcome to all you need."
He motioned to another man to bring a bowl and he gave her a generous portion.
As he handed it to her, he said, "Sit. Rest. Eat. You're obviously hungry and tired."
Someone brought her a tattered old pillow. She put it on the ground, sat down and began to eat. "Thank you so much. Are all of you writers?"
"Yes, we gathered here to write and discuss our stories," one woman answered. "Meeting together helps us perfect our craft. We try to help and learn from each other." She looked at her companions. "Maybe she can help us decide."
"Oh, I'd be happy to help you. Decide what?"
"We want to know which of our stories is the best. Are you a writer?"
"No, but I can read. My mother taught me."
The woman glanced at the others around the fire. Some were murmuring to each other and gave the troubadour questioning looks. The man who had first greeted her gathered up five manuscripts.
As he handed her one of the stories, he said, "We haven't been able to decide which story is the best. Perhaps a visitor could judge for us." The other writers shrugged their shoulders and nodded their heads in agreement.
She finished her soup and began to read. After she finished the very first story, she had tears in her eyes. "This is the best," she said, "because it made me cry."
But they handed her another one and urged her to read. She returned the second one, chuckling, and said, "This is the best because it made me laugh."
They still weren't satisfied, so she read another.
"This is the best," she said, "because it gave me hope."
Of the fourth story, she said, "This is the best because I learned something new."
But the last one was good, too. "This is the best," she said, "because it made me remember."
One of the younger men asked, "You can't decide?"
She looked at the group apologetically. "No, all of them were wonderful. I'm sorry I couldn't decide. I want to help you because you are so kind to offer hospitality to me, but I can't say which one is best. Each story was like opening a marvelous, unique gift. May I give you a present in return? I would like to sing you a song."
She stood and centered herself, feet front and flat, hips and shoulders aligned, her head pulled to the night sky. She began to sing a song of thanks, a song of gratitude for the kindness these people had shown her. Her lungs filled with air, and then the sound began at the base of her spine, went up her back in a tingling wave, emptied into her arms and chest and finally focused through at the top of her head. It was a song like the twinkle of a star, light and clear, full of trills and frills, full of grace. She imagined the notes dancing in the air as they left her mouth. Her soprano voice filled her body. The music enveloped her as it swirled in the air.
She sighed when she finished. She sat down, but no one else moved or spoke. The writers all stared at the troubadour. Had she offended them? Was her gift improper somehow? One of the women slowly smiled and then she spoke.
"Thank you," she said. "We may never decide whose story is the best, but your song has inspired me to write a new story."
"I'll get more paper," another woman said.
"I'll get some ink for us," someone else said.
The troubadour rested as she listened to the sound of quills scratching on paper. Later, she went to the entrance of the camp and found a ladder. Placing it against the tree, she climbed it and positioned the lamp so the light could be seen more clearly. As she looked at the horizon, she could see silhouettes moving toward the camp. More visitors, she thought. Maybe they saw the light. She hoped they could read. And sing.
My throat was dry so I gulped down the rest of the warm cider. I felt a strange sense of relief after finishing my tale. I looked at my companions. They were all smiling. One man grinned broadly and winked at me. One woman had tears in her eyes.
"Teresa, will you sing us a song?" the man in the plaid shirt asked.
"Yes, of course. I have always wanted to sing for you, to give you a gift in my own way. But I know a song we can all sing together. The words are simple. Would you like to join me?"
So we sang a song of praise together, warming our spirits, as the bonfire flared to life. | 3 |
4,671 | Rock Me, Amadeus | "Here, here, come in here, there and sit down." Angelica shouldered a young man's inert frame as she guided his weak steps through the dim light, working slowly around the end table and with a shove, deposited him on the tweed upholstered sofa. With a groan, Steven struck the back of his head on the short divan's wooden frame. "Oh, sorry, baby, I'm so sorry, I'll get you some ice. Lean back, gently, here's a pillow. Don't close your eyes, baby. Promise me you'll keep them open."
"Ooh," moaned Steven, bringing a cautious hand to his swollen lip. Trying to focus in the pale glow of the distant kitchen light, he looked to see if the lip was still bleeding. Softly, he felt the bump on his nose. "Damn," he said. Angelica scurried back on her heels, carrying a cloth wrapped around several ice cubes.
"Here," she said, handing him the cool, damp towel. Kicking off her shoes, she reached for the light switch. "Let me get a look at you." Steven turned his dark eyes up to her, lost and grateful. "Poor baby," she said tenderly. "You look like you just lost a fight." Steven touched the terrycloth to his lip gingerly, slowly pressing it closer. He smiled, vaguely.
"I think that's what happened. Lost the battle, anyway."
"You're going to have a black eye, baby. You were so brave." Angelica knelt down beside the sofa and pressed her lips to Steven's chest.
"Yeah, well, if you call stepping in front of a truck brave."
"Bah," spat Angelica, "Jack is a brute. He had no right to beat you up." Steven winced.
"Someone should have explained that to him earlier. He seemed to think he had a right. Bam, bam, pow. What did it take? Six seconds?"
"Jack's a boxer. He knows how to fight."
"Figures," said Steven, rubbing his calf. "I've got a hell of a bruise there."
"You hit the fire hydrant when you fell." Angelica frowned as her soft hands rubbed Steven's belly.
"That was the only thing I hit, well, except the cement."
"You didn't defend yourself, you know, baby. Why didn't you put up your dukes?" Angelica raised her hands in a defensive pose. Steven lifted his left hand, a strong, sturdy looking paw into the light and smiled.
"I don't think it would have helped, but I didn't dare. My hands are my fortune. My face was just for show. I'm a musician." Angelica took his hand to look more closely at the talented fingers and then rubbed them over her full, pink cheek.
"You have beautiful hands," she purred.
"If I broke a finger, I'd be out of work for six weeks. This," he said, indicating his roughed face, "will only cost me a few kisses."
"No, baby, it won't cost you kisses. Not from me." Angelica leaned up and kissed the unbruised corner of his mouth. "You were my hero. So brave."
"So stupid," said Steven.
"No, baby, not stupid. Jack acted like a child, bursting into the bar and making his demands. You refused to let him push you around." Steven put his hand on the back of Angelica's head and teased her thick black hair.
"He pushed me pretty good, I'd say."
"With his fists, but not with his will. You stood up to him, even knowing, especially knowing that you couldn't hit him back."
"Well," said Steven, his smile evidencing a little pride, "I couldn't let him talk to you that way. It wasn't right."
"Oh, baby," said Angelica, tickling her fingers down her chest. "You were so brave. Jack's just a punk, thinking he can control everybody with his loud talk and his fists."
"Angelica," said Steven, softly.
"Yes, baby?"
"What kind of relationship did you have with Jack? I mean...."
"No, baby. We dated for a while. Nothing serious. Nothing real except that he's like all men, just jealous and possessive. I don't do anything he hasn't done."
"So he was out of line," said Steven, shifting as Angelica's hand began to caress his prick through his trousers.
"Absolutely. I told him we were through long ago. He wouldn't believe me. You were such a brave boy." She pulled at the zipper of his pants.
"Some guys just don't know when to quit," said Steven. "There was this one guy, back at the Fall Symposium." Angelica maneuvered a thickening staff from out of the shadows of cloth. "I would have laid him out, if I didn't have to, you know." Steven held his hand in the light.
"I know, baby," she said, kissing the hard flesh of his cock.
"I would have knocked him flat with some Rachmaninoff, just Pow!"
Angelica turned her head to smile at Steven, pushed her shiny black hair behind a pale ear and sank his rigid girth between her red lips.
"Nobody grabs a lady's arm when she's out with me, that's for damn sure. Oh, that's good. Such a pretty smile, sucking my dick. I would have done him flat. My hands are very strong, you know, and fast. Oh, fuck, suck it Angie. He got a lucky punch, before I was ready. I would have crashed him like a cymbal. Just bam, bam, baboom. You are so hot, such a fine ass. Yeah, wiggle. That piece of crap had better stay out of my way. Next time, I'll arpeggio his face. You like that, don't you, like sucking my big prick, yeah, suck it Angie."
Steven pressed her head down as the shudders ran from deep within to pour a fountain of hot spray from his cock. Angelica laughed with delight as his wet, watery orgasm spurted into her mouth.
"Oh God," he moaned as his aching body trembled. "So good. So good. So good."
"That's right, baby," said Angelica, licking her lips. "You're my brave, brave man."
"And I'd fuck you good," he said, closing his eyes. "If I weren't so fucking tired."
"You sleep," she said, kissing Steven's soft dick. "You can tell me that story tomorrow." | 4 |
4,674 | Dominatrix | "Mistress, I have brought a friend. His name is Greg."
You look at the naked man who stands beside me. He's a bit younger than I, not bad looking, and quite nicely built. It's obvious from his chest, arms, and legs that he's spent a little time working out with weights. But that doesn't concern you as you reach out and grab his flaccid cock. "I hope you can do something with this...?"
"Oh, yes, mistress."
"That remains to be seen." You lift a foot and put it down on a chair. "Lick my cunt, slave."
Greg drops to his knees, pushes his face up between your thighs. You feel his tongue sliding along your pussy lips, looping around your clitoris, then thrusting up into the depths of your cunt.
You look at me. "You--I want to see you suck his cock."
I bow my head slightly, then lie down on my side on the carpeted floor. Greg's cock jiggles around as he continues to run his tongue over and around and into your wet cunt.
I grab his cock with my hand, move the skin back and forth along the shaft for a few times, then lean forward and cover the head with my mouth. You see the glistening glans appear and disappear from between my lips as my mouth moves up and down along his shaft, taking as much of him into my mouth as I can. Gradually, you see his cock grow bigger, harder.
"Enough. Stand up, both of you."
Greg and I quickly rise to our feet. As we stand side-by-side, you get to your knees and grab both our cocks in your hands and begin to pump them simultaneously. You rub the heads together, watch our transparent pre-cums mixing together. Then you hold both cocks firmly together and engulf both at one time with your mouth. Hungrily you suck on us, your tongue sliding around both cocks, savoring our taste.
You take your mouth away, look at us. "Greg, get behind me--fuck me hard. You--get down on the floor."
As Greg moves behind you, I sit down on the floor. Your mouth closes over my cock once more. I feel your hair brushing lightly against my abdomen and my thighs, tickling me slightly, but feeling good.
Your hot mouth rises and falls on my cock, and I watch, excited, as Greg moves forward and plunges his hard rod into your cunt. I hear a muffled groan from you as he begins to ram in and out of you.
I reach under and grab your dangling breasts, kneading them, squeezing them, running my fingers over the nipples, feeling them hard and erect beneath my touch.
Your mouth comes off me. "Tell me when you're ready to cum," you say quickly, then I'm in you again. I pump upwards into your mouth as your teeth run along the edge of my pole.
Greg's cock continues to pound into your cunt, his balls slapping against your thighs. He lubricates a finger, then slowly inserts it into your anus, to the first knuckle, stopping for a moment, then to the second. You moan loudly, and I feel the vibration from your mouth through my hard cock.
Suddenly you gasp, sucking hard on my cock, as you cum, your body spasmodically jerking as your orgasm ripples through your body from the sensation of Greg's cock and finger thrusting into your cunt and ass, my cock shoving up into your mouth.
"Almost ready..." groans Greg.
"Me, too," I say, feeling the warm sensation deep in my balls.
You release me, pull yourself from Greg's cock and finger. "Get up."
I get to my feet quickly, and you grab our cocks, pumping them in unison.
"Aaaahh---!" cries Greg as you yank on him.
"Cover me!" you call out. "Cover me with your cum!"
A moment later, unable to stop, Greg spurts his warm jism, its thin streams shooting onto your face and neck.
"Ooooh--!" I moan as you pump me harder, then a few quick seconds later, I start to fire my own load, the wet sticky milky-white fluid spewing out into your mouth, running down your neck and trickling down over your breasts and nipples... | 5 |
4,676 | Banana Split | "DG? Deej, honey? Are you awake?"
I slowly opened my eyes. Cindy was crouched over me, her face framed by the waving fronds of a palm tree, the glossy sheaf of her hair brushing softly against my cheek. There are much, much worse sights to wake up to. I was napping, or had been napping, on the warm sands of a remote tropical island. Cindy and I were stranded in paradise, you see.
"What is it, babe? Headhunters? A tiger?"
"I want a coconut."
"So have a coconut."
"I can't find a nice one on the ground. Can you climb up and get me one?"
I sat up with a sigh and found myself facing a stretch of ocean so blue it should smell like chlorine instead of brine. It wasn't easy working up any sort of indignation in this setting, but I gave it a shot, just for form's sake.
"You want me to risk my neck climbing up into a palm tree like a giant monkey, when there's fruit all around us? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over a kumquat. You could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas."
She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday."
This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway.
I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry.
I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair."
"You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that."
Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear.
When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine.
Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type.
I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and don't do it on a windy day.
I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves.
The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free.
Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run.
As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers.
My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?"
"Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?"
"Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times.
I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef.
"Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro.
"I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch. Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though."
"Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin.
"Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin.
"Exsqueeze me?"
"You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy."
Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon."
"I always knew you'd like pussyfruit."
"OK, wise guy, let's eat."
I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our high-fructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot."
"Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight."She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside.
"Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins.
As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "What are you thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?"
"No. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I rammed your tight, hot pussy with one of those plantains."
"Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work.
"Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry."
"Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains.
"I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a... like a chicken laying a goose egg."
"Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it."
I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest.
"Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done."
"Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindy's skin.
More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear.
"Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that."
"Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside.
"You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples.
"How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly.
"Delicious. A little sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tongue along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The same was true of me.
"Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled.
Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut-flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face.
Finally, she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile. "OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut."
My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord. My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully.
She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier and slid it over my cock. The inside felt cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the same.
"Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit."
"Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?"
Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off.
"I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor -"
"Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!"
"Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly.
I swallowed hard.
"When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway.
She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable."
"Like a banana?"
She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry.
"That ought to do it, thanks hon."
"All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit-fucking you'll never forget."
With the menacing ьberbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs.
"Be gentle," she squeaked.
I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me." I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines.
"God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning keep going."
The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust.
"Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned.
"So is this like a religious experience, then?"
"Shut up and fuck me."
I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand.
"Had enough?" I asked.
She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come."
I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in my balls.
"Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please."
I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Let me just grab a bite first."
"Dee-Gee!"
"OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it against her crotch.
"You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!"
I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?"
"Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying."
"Maybe if I ate the banana now?"
Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy."
"I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit.
"Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie."
She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full-throated cry of pleasure.After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face.
"That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie."
"What! What about me?"
She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Just...do whatever you want. So....sleepy."
Wonderful.
I rolled her onto her side and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts.
After thirty seconds or so, Cindy started to come out of her coma and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her.
After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss.
"We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here."
So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise. | 3 |
4,681 | Summer of Sin | "I want to fish too," I said.
"You can't, dear. You don't have a penis," Pauline answered. Her voice was languid. She sounded bored. I gazed with inquisitive eyes at the men. John, Brad, and Steve all sat on a couch in the living room. There was a fish tank on the floor. Multicolored tropical fish swam in the tank. Each man sat with his penis hanging erectly over the side of the tank. A fishing line was tied around each man's dick. At the end of each line, down in the submerged depths of the fish tank, was a barbed hook. On the hook a fresh nightcrawler wiggled.
"They aren't biting," Steve said.
"Don't wiggle your dick around so much," Paul said.
"I want to fish!" I said again. I crouched on the floor, beside the tank. My hands clutched its glass walls, along the top.
"She could, you know," my aunt said. She was sitting on a pillow. Her well-lotioned bottom was hidden from our view, but it was still red, from my whipping. My own fanny bore the marks of John's discipline. It didn't hurt as much now, but there were several weals that would take a while to heal. I let go of the fishtank and rubbed my bare ass. It stung. I winced. John looked up from the end of his penis and laughed at me.
"You're wicked," I told him.
"You won't call me names anymore," he said.
"You're right," I said glumly. I pouted.
"You look pretty when you pout," John said.
"Let me fish. Can I play with your fishing pole?" I asked John.
"Tie string to her nipples. Then she can fish," my aunt told Pauline.
"Of course!" Pauline said. "You're quite inventive, Rebecca." She leapt up from the couch.
"But I want to play with *his* fishing pole!" I said, pointing to John's dick.
"No, you're not playing with my husband's penis," Pauline said. "He's going to need all of his sperm for tonight, when he gets married to Chrissy." She picked up the ball of fishing line. "Do you want bait, or a real worm?" Pauline asked me.
"Yuck!" I said. "I don't want a real worm. They're yucky!"
"Which hook do you want, then?" Pauline asked. There was a collection of them laid out on a soft towel, on the carpet. Next to the ersatz baits was a can with worms in it. Pauline's fingers passed over the can of worms and fingered the nearest bait.
"Give me a pretty one," I said. "Two pretty ones, since I have two nipples."
"She gets to fish with two lines?" Brad asked, looking up from his penis.
"She's a girl. She won't catch anything," John said dismissively. "I told you not to wiggle your dick around. The fish will never bite your line if you do that."
"I can't help it. I'm horny as hell," Brad said.
"After my wife and Chrissy both blow-jobbed you this morning?" John asked.
"Yes," Brad said. There was a look of desperation in his eyes. He looked at me, pleadingly.
"Nope," I said.
Pauline knelt down next to me. She made me turn towards her so she could tie fishing line around my nipples.
"What do you mean, 'nope'?" Brad asked me.
"I know what you're thinking," I said to him.
"What?" Brad asked.
"You want to fuck me," I said. "And I bet I know where you want to put it, too."
"Where?" Brad said.
"Don't wiggle your line," John told Brad again.
"Up my bottom," I said.
"So, let's do it," Brad said. He began to rise.
"Nope," I told him.
"Sit down," John said. He was sitting next to Brad. He clutched at Brad's penis and forced him to sit back down, bare assed, on the sofa.
"I've got to cum," Brad said.
"Not in me!" I shouted. "I'm fishing."
"For God's sake. Go whack off in the bushes if you need it that bad," Steve swore. "You keep wiggling your dick around and it's scaring the fish!"
"Nobody is going to cum again until I do," John said. He looked at Steve. "And tonight we're getting married."
"Not to each other," Steve said.
"I could marry every one of you fucks and fuck you in every hole you've got," John said.
"John! Don't be rude," Pauline told her husband. She tied fishing line to my right nipple. It made a pretty bow. Then she tied a hook onto the end of my line. "Be careful with this," she told me. "I don't want it cutting your pretty skin."
"My bottom's already cut," I said ruefully. Pauline dropped the plastic bait, with the hook built into it, in the fish tank. The water rippled.
"You only have a few welts, that's all," Pauline told me. "My husband didn't cut your skin when he whipped you. It wasn't that kind of whipping."
"She almost cut mine!" Rebecca said.
"I didn't know what I was doing," I said. "I never whipped anyone's bottom before."
"It hurts when I sit down," Rebecca told me.
"Sorry," I said.
"You'll both be better in a few days, if not well before then," Pauline said. "There. I've tied on the other line, Chloe." She plopped it in the water. I pressed my belly to the fish tank. Flatness of glass upon flatness of flesh. I looked over the edge of the tank and saw my belly button through the glass.
"This is fun," I said, jiggling my bosoms. My bait wiggled in the water.
"Don't wobble your boobs around," John told me. "You'll scare the fish."She dripped on the floor.
"Do you, Chrissy, take John here to be your unlawfully wedded husband?" Rebecca asked with a giggle. Chrissy gulped.
"I do," Chrissy managed to say. I understood her fear. At the last minute, it had been agreed that the marriage would have one very important added feature. Though it was a lewd marriage, giving Chrissy to John, and Pauline to Steve, it would also be a ceremony that bound each lover more completely to their true love. For, in a corner, next to a pile of soft, comfy pillows, stood a brazier. There were two irons heating on the coals of the brazier. One bore a J. The other bore an S. Though she would marry John this night, and be impregnated by him, and carry his child, Chrissy would, to always remember her true love, be branded on her bottom. With an S. The initial of her real husband's first name. It would be the same for Pauline. She would take marriage vows to Steve, and receive his sperm. But, so she remembered who her real husband was, she would, before the fucking, be permanently marked with a J.
I could feel Pauline trembling as she stood beside me. Her hand was in mine. It was sweating.
"Do you, John, take Chrissy as your unlawfully wedded wife?" Rebecca asked our black host.
"I do," John said. He felt the squirtgun (there was one for each of us, lying on the alter) jet out wine upon the length of his penis. "That makes me have to go to the bathroom," John said.
"No peeing at the altar," Rebecca told him. Then she read out the marriage vows for Pauline. She drenched her pussy with wine. Pauline agreed to be unlawfully married to Steve. Then Rebecca, turning to him, shot wine all over his penis.
"And now you, Brad, as best man," Rebecca said. She drenched his cock with wine. When the squirtgun designated for him was empty, she did me. Finally, turning a gun on herself, Rebecca soaked her own pussy. "Now you may kiss," Rebecca told the two couples.
Brad and I watched from opposite sides as the four people embraced. They kissed long and passionately. Brad looked at me with pleading eyes. His dick was dripping, and I knew there was more than just wine plopping off the end of it. I lifted my nose. I wouldn't let him have me. Not yet. We might get in trouble with John, if we messed up his wedding by balling at the altar.
"I want to get married," I said suddenly to Rebecca. Watching John and Chrissy and Steve and Pauline kiss was making me hungry for it.
"You're too young," she answered.
"I want to fuck," Brad said frankly.
"Go in the bushes if you need it that badly," I giggled.
John told us to shut up. He said we were messing up his kissing. Chrissy swooned as he kissed her. I think he managed to stick his tongue all the way down her throat.
"Now for the brazier," John said.
"Oh, I don't--!" Pauline said. There was misgiving in her eyes.
"We must," John said.
"Will it hurt?" Chrissy asked. Her eyes looked across the room at the flickering coals.
"No worse than when you birth my child," John said.
We walked across the room. The steps of Pauline and Chrissy were hesitant, unsure. Reaching the mound of pillows, Pauline gazed down at them. Her hand rose to her mouth and figeted there. She put a finger between her lips and uncertainly sucked upon it.
"Down," her husband, John, said to her in a deep voice. "Get down."
Pauline whirled about and clutched at her husband's big frame.
"Please, dear! Don't make me--" she gasped.
"Get down and spread your ass," John said to Pauline. She looked up into his eyes. She gave him a small, pecking kiss on the cheek. Another. He pushed her away. Not hard, but firmly. She tottered on her heels. He caught her arm so she wouldn't fall.
"Help me get her undressed," John said to Steve. His voice growled. As we watched, horrified, the two men grabbed Pauline. She shrieked. They ripped off her bridal gown. They stripped her down to her lovely white mesh stockings, tearing off even her garter belt, leaving her in just her elastic stockings. And the pretty white ribbons she'd put in her hair.
Ribboned, stockinged, with her earrings dangling off her ears but otherwise nude, Pauline gazed again at the brazier. She rubbed her bare hands up and down her naked arms. Her pubic bush was still moist from all the wine that had been squirted into it. She touched her bare belly. Her hands skimmed her bare thighs. She interlaced her fingers across her wet bush and looked down at them.
"Don't I at least get a ring?" Pauline said.
"It is an unlawful marriage," John said. "You don't get a ring. You get a brand on your bottom."
"Oh!" Pauline gasped. She looked again at the brazier and seemed to reach some sort of mental accomodation with it. She walked around the mound of pillows. She put her back to the brazier. She looked back over her shoulder at its glowing coals. Then, she knelt. She stretched out over the mound of pillows. She opened her legs. She looked up at her husband. Then, looking away from his cock, which hung over her head, she reached back behind herself and spread the cheeks of her bottom.
"Very good," John said to Pauline. "Steve, since you'll be impregnating her, you'll do her the honor of branding her as well."
"Right," Steve said. He walked over to the brazier.
"Be careful. I have to live with your handiwork for the rest of my life," John told Steve.
"Oh!" Pauline said. She was moved by her husband's remark that he would, in fact, love her forever and never leave her. Wet tears appeared in her eyes.
"Gag her," John said to Chrissy.
"Me?" Chrissy asked in a meek voice.
"You," John said.
"But I'm next!" Chrissy blurted.
"Kneel down and gag her," John repeated.
With trembling hands, Chrissy knelt down. There was a black gag lying, as if by afterthought, along the back of the piled-up pillows. Chrissy took the gag. She urged Pauline to open her mouth. Pauline resisted.
"You must," Chrissy said to Pauline. "To protect your teeth." Pauline at last relented and the gag filled her mouth. It was made of thick black leather to protect her from biting down on her tongue or of harshly grinding her teeth. Chrissy leaned over her contrite head and knotted the gag firmly against her neck, careful to pull her hair free so that it woulnd't be bound in with the knot of the gag. "There," Chrissy said. She patted Pauline's head.
"Now her hands," John said. Chrissy reached back. She clutched at Pauline's wrists. Pauline was pressing her hands to the back of her bottom, opening herself for the brand, showing us her anus.
"Oh! I can feel it!" Chrissy said. "The heat from the brazier is warming her bottom." Steve laughed. The brazier sat just beyond Pauline's upturned feet. He knelt beside it, stirring the coals. He used an iron rod. He had an oven mitt on his hand, which had hung on a peg on the wall next to the brazier, but which he now was wearing. He sat sideways so that the meatiness of his left thigh protected his naked cock from the brazier's heat.
"Her toes are even warmer," Steve said.
"But I can feel it on her bottom too!" Chrissy said. She picked up both Pauline's hands. She drew them out in front of Pauline. Two heavy iron weights had been placed on the carpet before the ceremony began. Chrissy now tied each of Pauline's wrists to one of the weights. The weights were widely spaced on the floor and they made Pauline's hands be stretched wide apart. Behind her, Steve used two weights near her ankles to tie her legs into a spread-eagled position. The mound of pillows under Pauline's belly lifted her bottom high.
Gagged, tied, Pauline looked with pleading eyes up at her husband.
"She is ready," John said to Steve. "Apply the brand."
Steve picked up one of the brands that lay warming above the coals.
"Oh! I cannot look!" I gasped. My aunt grasped my shoulders.
"Try," my aunt breathed. "You have a lovely bottom and someday--" her voice broke into a sob. She couldn't speak.
"Someday what--?" I squeaked. I felt my aunt press her chin down upon my frail shoulder. She held me in front of her, as if clutching a shield. She tried to speak but she couldn't. She was too nervous.
"Oh, God!" Chrissy, knowing she was next, cried aloud. She put her fist in her mouth. She bit it. She drew blood, but none of us noticed, not even her, until later.
With a quavering hand Steve lifted one of the brands off the hot griddle. He knelt with his penis erect between Pauline's legs. He nervously stroked one of her bare thighs with his fingers. Pauline squeezed her eyes shut. She seemed to lift her bottom, to evade the brand, or to offer herself to it? I could not tell. She could only move a little, because she was stretched out completely and tied.
Only John remained firm, his figure erect and tall, his hands quietly by his sides, gazing with resolute eyes. He showed no sign of nervousness.
"Steady," John told Steve. "That's my wife you're about to poke in the ass."
"I know," Steve said.
"Ruin her with your nervousness and I'll do the same to your own wife's bottom," John said.
"Right," Steve agreed.
"Oh!" Chrissy shouted. She grabbed at one of Pauline's wrists, as if to untie it. John scooped her up off the floor. He held Chrissy in his arms.
"No," John intoned.
"I don't wish to be branded!" Chrissy babbled. But her voice was childlike, lost in fear. John held her wriggling body. She stared down at Pauline.John told Steve. Pauline's hips rocked. Steve placed a hand on one of the cheeks of her bottom.
"Be still," Steve said. He pried apart her asscheeks with his fingers.
"Right next to the anus," John said.
"Both sides?" Steve asked.
"Just one," John replied. "Perhaps I will brand the other side someday, but for now, just do the left inner cheek. I don't want to use up all the space in one sitting."
"It's more fun to do them one at a time," Steve agreed. He directed the brand into the space he'd made, wrenching open her bottom with his big fingers.
"Oh! Let me help! There isn't enough room!" my aunt cried. She tossed me aside like a rag doll. She leapt down on Pauline's back. To our surprise, she clapped her hands to Pauline's bottom. For a moment I thought she was trying to protect her, but then she widened Pauline's ass with stiff-gripping fingers, splitting her cheeks.
"Have you done this before?" Steve asked Rebecca.
"I-- I saw it done once," Rebecca said. "Put the brand to her while it is still hot. Do it now." Frantically Pauline, feeling the weight of Rebecca on her back, twisted her body. She could barely move, but she tried her best to escape the long, hot iron that hovered over her bare fanny. It was no use. My aunt held her firmly between clamping thighs and her arms and legs were tied tightly to the weights spread out on the floor.
SSSSSSSSS !!! The sound of hot steel touching warm, naked bottomfat was heard in the room. Pauline's eyes gaped. A sound of screaming, gagged desperation erupted from her thin throat.
"Hold it! Hold it!" Rebecca shouted. Her hair had come free from her wedding-day coiffure and tumbled prettily down into her eyes. She struggled to keep Pauline's squirming bottom apart. Steve, looking rather like he was fucking Pauline up the ass with the long, hard iron poker, held the wicked thing against Pauline's skin. Pauline's small anal hole tensed. It drew inward. It went from its small dimpled size to an even smaller size. Directly next to it the hot iron brand imprinted itself on her intimate flesh.
"Ten!" Rebecca said. She had been counting, silently. "Take it off! Now!"
With relief Steve lifted the brand. A harsh raw mark was left behind in Pauline's skin, in the furrow of her bottom. It read, "S". We all gazed wondrously at it. Pauline trembled between Rebecca's tight-gripped thighs. She fainted.
"You idiot! You branded her with your brand!" John screamed at Steve.
"Yikes! I didn't realize!" Steve said.
"Oh my God!" Chrissy cried. John, still holding her, gripped her firmly.
"Then your wife shall bear forever my initial," John said to Steve.
"Oh, no!" Steve yelled.
Both women sat in wooden tubs. The tubs had been filled with cool water. The women sat in the nude, their bare behinds submerged in the tubs. Their feet rested on the carpet. They held hands. There was rice in their hair, thrown by the slave boys.
"There are our brides, their bottoms branded," John said to Steve.
"Now all that remains is to fuck them," Steve said.
"Yes, after their bottoms have a chance to cool off," John said.
"They are a pretty sight," Steve said.
"They will make fine mothers," John agreed.
In the morning, when both Pauline and Chrissy's bottoms had healed sufficiently, we went upstairs. Separate bedrooms had been prepared. One for John and Chrissy. The other for Steve and Pauline. Each bedroom had a 'Do Not Disturb' sign waiting on the outside handle of the door. Despite our games, our earlier enjoyments, this would be a private, intimate affair. It would be shared only by the parties involved. No interference would be allowed. Both doors could be locked from the inside, to assure complete privacy.
"Good night," Pauline said. She kissed her husband. He kissed her. At the same time, Steve and Chrissy kissed farewell. It was morning, the sunlight bright against the drawn curtains of each bedroom, but both couples bid each other goodnight anyway. Perhaps they would not see each other again until the following morning. When they did meet again, both females would be pregnant, with the seed of a man not their husband.
"I love you," Chrissy said to Steve. She looked longingly at him. John drew her away.
"Come. We must go inside," John said to Chrissy. She turned. She looked into the waiting bedroom. The covers of the bed were already drawn back. The sheets were fresh and crisp. On the nightstand, next to the bed, were lotions and creams and oils. There were no condoms, however. No birth control pills.
"Oh! I'll be pregnant when I see you again, dear!" Chrissy blurted across the hallway to her husband. Steve stood by the door to the bedroom he would share with John's wife, Pauline.
"I know," Steve said. "Say goodbye to your wife," Steve said to John.
"I want a boy," John said to Steve.
"You'll get whatever I give her," Steve answered. "Perhaps it will be a redheaded white boy, who only likes math, and hates girls."
"For God's sake, don't give me a fag!" John said.
"You never know," Steve answered. "I have a cousin who's a member of NAMBLA."
"I have three relatives who are in the State Penitentiary," John said.
"Enough of this!" Pauline cried. "We will both have fine children. Won't we?"
"Yes!" Chrissy agreed.
"Your son will be a future president," Steve told John solemnly. "He will get blow-jobs from every intern in the White House."
"Come, dear. We have work to do," Pauline said. She took Steve's hand. She drew him into the bedroom.
"Goodbye," John said from the doorway to his own bedroom. There was a note of regret in his voice. He gazed across the hall at his wife's bare, flat belly. Chrissy kissed his cheek.
"I want a son who's a rapper," Chrissy said quietly to John. She reached between his legs and took hold of his bare cock. We were all naked, standing there in the hall. The night had passed slowly as the men waited for the two women to recover from their branding. Chrissy fondled John's balls. They looked enormous to me, standing there in the middle of the hall, watching. She emitted a small loving moan, and squeezed them. I put a hand to my own snatch and fingered myself.
Steve and Pauline closed the door to their bedroom. I heard them slide shut the lock on the other side of the door. John and Chrissy, her hand still touching his testicles, did the same.
"What shall we do?" I asked Brad. My aunt stood holding his hand.
"We are one out," Rebecca confessed. "Shall we have a menage a trois?"
"I want to get both of you pregnant," Brad said to me.
"You can't, dear. She's only 13. She goes to a private school, in America. It's quite expensive. I'm sure her parents don't want to have to pay for two places," Rebecca said. She grinned at me.
"My mom and dad would be totally shocked if I went home pregnant," I giggled to Brad.
"Then let's just enjoy ourselves, eh?" Brad said. He stroked his bare cock. "We can, you know, practise."
"Practising sounds nice," Rebecca agreed.
We left the island. John steered his boat. Pauline wore a sailor's hat and clam-digger pants. She was bare-breasted. There was a small shirt lying on the bench seat at the back of the boat. She would put it on as we drew in toward shore, she assured us. I smiled. My bosoms were also bare. I wore bikini panties, given to me by Pauline. Her hips were wider than mine and she had cut them with scissors to make them smaller. She did the same for a bra which I fingered. It hung over one of my shoulders. I would put it on when I saw another boat, or when we got close enough to the shoreline for people to see me. I liked being topless. I could feel the morning sun on my breasts and it felt warm. Perhaps it would give my nipples a tan.
The boat hit a wave and spray from it crossed over the side of the boat and splattered upon Pauline's belly. She laughed. She looked down at herself. Her belly was flat but we all knew her condition would visibly change soon. Inside, in her womb, she now carried Steve's seed. It was the same for Chrissy. I looked at her bare belly, dry and warm in the sun. She already had her shirt on, as did my aunt. Both of them had knotted their shirts so that their bellies showed. My aunt's would not bloat in the coming weeks, but Chrissy's would, as would Pauline's. I patted my own belly. I looked over at Brad. He grinned at me.
"I wish I'd gotten pregnant," I confessed.
"I'm sure it can be arranged," he said. He wore his jeans. There was a bulge in the front of his trousers.
"Are you up again already?" I gasped. I looked frankly at his crotch.
"I'm always up, for you," Brad said.
"I love you," I gasped. I leaned over and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me. I looked up into his eyes. "I wish I had a brand too. On my bottom." I said. My voice was soft, babyish.
"Sure you do," Brad said. He reached into the back of my swim panties and felt between the cheeks of my ass, in my crack. "Right there."
"Oooh! Don't put your finger in my hole!" I gasped.
"What are you two up to?" Rebecca laughed.
"You'd better keep an eye on her," Pauline warned. "She could wind up like me."Press your "return" key.
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-END OF story EMISSION | 3 |
4,682 | Tulsa Encore | "Can't keep myself from thinking about you
It's because I love you, and I know that it's true, whoooa
I'll call it desperation, can't you see it in my eyes?
That I want to be with you until the sun falls from the sky."
As Taylor Hanson finished the repeat chorus of "A Minute Without You," he had the image of a very special person in his mind, a person he was aching to see after the performance. He glanced about the theatre even though he knew with the glaring lights he couldn't even see the audience, never mind spot him out of the thousands of fans. He prayed that he had made it to Tulsa. The brothers started in on their next number. Performing in their hometown was a major rush, and what a difference now that they were famous. The last time they had performed in Tulsa, it had been in one of the smaller halls and it had been only partially filled. Now they had packed the Mabee Center, the biggest stage in Tulsa with a capacity of more than eleven thousand seats.
At the end of the concert, none of them felt like going home and relaxing with the family, even though it had been six weeks since they had left home for their European-North American tour. Their mother and father understood that. Even though they still insisted their boys follow the evangelical Christian values they had instilled in them years ago, they knew that they were now major stars and had to live their own lives too. Their boys were growing up. Besides, after a performance like they had tonight, it would take hours to come down.
Anyway, commencing with the Tulsa performance, the entire family was going to be tour bussing it for the next leg of the American tour. That meant not just mom and dad and the three boys, but their three younger sisters and kid brother besides. With five more cities added to the tour, this was going to be the last chance for the boys to be alone for a long time.
Actually, young Zac was going home, and he was looking forward to spending a night in their bedroom after six weeks of sharing a hotel room with his two brothers. An entire night without them telling him to quieten down and get some sleep would be like having a holiday. Isaac, on the other hand, was on his way to a house party, with him being the featured guest of course. He was hoping there would also be a certain girl there that he had a crush on. Even if there wasn't, the seventeen-year-old knew that there would be plenty of girls for him to choose from.
Tay was heading out to meet someone special also, someone special he had met five months ago. As soon as their tour schedule had been finalized, he had made all the arrangements for this night, including booking an air flight, sending the front seat concert ticket and booking the hotel room. There had been countless nights since then that he had lain in bed and quietly stroked himself thinking of the first night they had spent together, and what this night in Tulsa would be like. His mom and dad thought he was spending the night with a friend, and he had not lied about that. He could never lie to his parents. It was just that this was not the friend they thought he was spending the night with.
They certainly would be shocked to know what he was hoping he and his special friend might be doing. The fifteen-year-old had come to terms with that himself, and it had not been easy with his upbringing and the closeness of his family, but over the past year he had seen a lot of the world, and he was not your typical fifteen-year-old boy. Being recognized no matter where you went in the world, dealing with reporters, and working with agents on albums, you matured fast. He knew that somehow there would be a way to reconcile his feelings with his beliefs. For the moment, he was satisfied to deal with his feelings and the present. In that regard, he was a typical teenager.
His parents would also be shocked at the appearance of their second youngest son. At the moment he was in a stall in the Tulsa Transit washroom removing his clothes and putting on his disguise. Now that he was famous, he couldn't go anywhere without being recognized, let alone in his hometown, and tonight he did not want anyone to know where he was going. That would be all he would need, some photog snapping his picture in a part of town where he was not supposed to be tonight. Having stripped down, he quickly slipped on the clothes he had smuggled out of the house. Making sure there was nobody in the can, he hurried to the door, and seeing nobody in the hallway, he quickly slipped out of the men's can and into the women's.
He took a quick look around. He'd never been in the women's before, and he took the opportunity to check it out. Other than the absence of urinals, he found there was not much noticeable difference. He quickly looked into the mirror and adjusted his dress so the straps of his padded bra were not showing. He quickly applied a bit of blush to his cheeks, and some cherry red lipstick to his lips. He'd observed his mother often enough to do a fair job, although he could not understand how a woman could stand the paste on her lips. He looked at the image in the bright red dress in the mirror and fluttered his long, blond eyelashes. Red was his favorite colour, and the bright scarlet suited him. Actually, with his long blond hair and his fine features, he made a good-looking young girl. He'd gotten the idea from some fake celebrity pics of him in drag that an irate fan who thought he should know what was going on had sent him. Nobody was going to recognize him in this outfit. The words from "Weird" came to mind: "When you live in a cookie cutter world being different is a sin. So you don't stand out. And you don't fit in. Weird." That was exactly how he felt, and he wasn't just thinking of his disguise.
Tay walked out of the station unnoticed and caught the city transit heading to North Garnett Road. As he stared out the bus window, he felt the tension begin to rise. What if he was wrong about his special friend? What if he was wrong about himself? Suppose things did not go as he had dreamed this past month? The growing anticipation and the worries were not unlike the feeling he had just before a performance. As he watched the streets go by, he hummed the lines of "Thinking of You" without even realizing he was doing so.
"Fly with wings of an eagle
Glide along with the wind
No matter how high
I'll be thinking of you the whole time.
I'm carrying this heavy load
I don't know what to do
The only thing I know is that
I'm in love with you. Oh
Fly the wings of an eagle
No matter how high
I'll be thinkin' of you."
Arriving at the Holiday Inn, he wiped his sweaty palms nervously on his dress. It had gotten over ninety today, but it wasn't just the heat and humidity that were causing his sweat. Not once in his daydreams had he figured he would be so frightened. He wondered if this was a mistake as he entered the hotel and headed for room 217. Had it been a mistake to reserve the same room where they had their first sex together? Tay would never forget that February night for as long as he lived. By the time he reached the room, his heart was pounding so hard you'd think he'd just finished an hour performing on stage. What he was about to do was far more frightening than any show he had ever performed. Wiping his sweating palms once more on his dress, he inhaled deeply and knocked on the door.
The door opened to reveal a nervous, grinning teenager that was sweating just as badly. Taran Noah Smith's smile quickly disappeared. He couldn't hide his surprise at the sight of the blond girl standing at his door. She was beautiful, but that was not who he was expecting. A tremor of disappointment rippled through his heart.
"Hi."
"Ah, sorry, you must have... ah, Tay?"
"No other. You going to invite a girl in, or you going to make her stand out here in the hallway all evening?"
"Well, ah, c'mon in."
"Thanks."
"What is this?"
"A disguise. What do you think?"
"I think you're gorgeous."
"Don't get funny."
"I'm not."
"Well," said Taylor, fluttering his long eyelashes, "I think you're a hunk too."
Taran laughed as Taylor walked over to the bed and kicked off his shoes. "Shit, I don't know why women would wear such awkward shoes. My feet are killing me and I've had these high heels on for less than an hour." Taylor leaned back on the bed and looked over at Taran."That was a fantastic show."
"So you did manage to catch it."
"Nothing would have kept me away. You were superb!"
"Thanks."
"That was something with all those fans yelling and screaming and everything. You must feel a real buzz right now."
"Yeah, it was a real rush performing at home. It's been a long time since we performed in Tulsa."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Last time we performed here was before we became known."
"Well, you're known now."
"Yeah. If we weren't, I wouldn't need this freakin' disguise."
The two boys stood there in the awkward silence that followed. Neither really wanted to talk about the performance nor the fans or anything else. Both had only one thing on their minds, and that was the last time they were here, in this very room, in this very bed. That was, after all, why Tay had invited Taran here, and that was the only reason Taran had accepted the ticket to his performance and the booking at the hotel room. The reason for this meeting had seemed so obvious a month ago. Now they wondered just what the other was thinking.
'Perhaps he was just being kind and wanted me to see the concert,' thought Taran as he wondered how to raise the topic of sex.
'Perhaps he just thought I wanted him to see the performance,' thought Tay as he wondered how he was going to let Taran know what he wanted to do.
"So-," began Tay at the same time as Taran.
"You first," said Taran at the same time as Tay.
The boys laughed.
"Actually, what really gave me a buzz tonight was thinking of seeing you," Tay said tentatively. It was a safe comment that could mean several things.
"Really? I've been really wanting to see you again too."
That was another safe comment.
"Cool."
"You want a Mug root beer?" Taran asked, knowing it was Tay's favorite and having some on ice.
"Yeah sure, I'm still dry after all that singing."
"You must be exhausted."
"No, not really."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Performing is a rush. It takes a long time to come down afterwards."
"Hmm." Taran thought of another meaning for "coming down" and his dick twitched.
"You ever feel that way acting?"
"Yeah, when a shoot has gone particularly well."
"I like it when a shoot goes particularly well," Tay said suggestively.
"Have you had many shoots since we saw each other last?" Taran asked, picking up on the double meaning immediately.
"Oh yeah, but none as good as that night."
"Really?"
"Yeah. What about you?"
"Same here."
"Lots of shoots, or none as good as the last one here?"
"Both," Taran said with a smile.
"Well, we'll have to see if we can be as good again."
"Yeah," Taran said, stepping forward.
"Let me get out of this outfit first."
"Ununh, let me get you out of it," Taran suggested with a grin as he sat beside Taylor.
"I am going to need help," Tay said. "I'll never understand why they design dresses so they button up the back."
"That's so you need a guy to help you get undressed," Taran suggested with a leer.
He unbuttoned the dress and eased it down over Tay's smooth shoulders and upper torso. Tay stood and stepped out of it. He had put on pink lace panties and matching bra and nylons with a black garter belt. In part it was to make sure the disguise was complete. In part it was because he thought it would be sexy having Taran see him that way. Mostly, he'd been thinking about dressing up that way ever since he'd seen those fake pictures, and the idea had turned him on. That, and thinking of Taran, had been his two main jerk off fantasies lately. Unfortunately dressing up in the men's can had been risky and had not been the major turnon he had expected.
Tay ran his hands under Taran's turtleneck, raising it and running his hands over the fourteen-year-old boy's slender, smooth body. He bent down and kissed his hairless chest, and ran his tongue over Taran's nipple. Slipping the sweater off over his head, Tay turned his attention to the Hollywood jeans, unbuttoning the fly and undoing the belt buckle. As he pulled them down, he smiled to see Taran had chosen black jockey briefs. He cupped his crotch and could feel the dampness and the heat of his genitals through the cloth.
Taran reached up and after a bit of a struggle managed to unsnap Tay's bra. Removing it, he too ran his hands over the slight youth's slim, hairless chest. He squeezed his nipples gently and bent over and sucked on one. He felt it grow hard in his mouth. Taran was growing hard too. He quickly removed Tay's garter belt and nylons. His silk panties were jutting out in a manner that was very unfeminine.
"You know," said Taylor as he saw Taran looking at his crotch, "I like the feel of them."
"I like the way they make you look," Taran said sincerely.
Tay reached over and ran his hands over Taran's crotch again. They eased each other's underwear down, and then lay on the bed and kissed. The kiss was a brief one, a tentative investigation. The second was more forceful, and the third the most powerful. They caressed each other for a while and their lips met again, this time touching softly, their tongues exploring tenderly. They pressed their bodies together, their boners squeezed between them.
"You're a much better kisser than the last time we met."
"Yeah, well, I'm older now. Fifteen and four months."
"You've had a birthday since we, well, since we. . . ."
"Had a hot fuck and suck session."
"Yeah, that's one way to put it."
"You got another way?"
"No," Taran said, "That's exactly the way to put it. I've had a birthday too. Three months ago."
"Thought you kissed better."
The boys looked into each other's eyes. Still worried, the two used the banter to hide their true fears and feelings, but neither one was fooling the other.
"Nervous?"
"Oh yeah."
"Me too."
"What would you like to do?" Taran asked huskily.
"I liked it best when you were fucking me," Tay admitted.
"Hey, I liked that the best too."
"I'd like to do it in a different position though."
"Yeah?"
"I want to do it on my back, so I can see your face when you cum."
"Cool," said Taran agreeably.
Tay lay down on his back and placed several pillows under his hips.
"Hey, you been doing this with someone else?" asked Taran.
"No, just saw a pic of two guys in this position when I was surfing the net looking for stuff," Tay said with a grin. Tay didn't mention he was looking for nude pictures of himself supposedly on the web, and for gay stories that he heard men were writing about him.
"Thank heavens for the net," said Taran with a smile.
Taran took out a tube of KY jelly he'd placed in the drawer of the stand beside the bed just in case. Opening it up, he squeezed a gob on his finger and then spreading apart Tay's cheeks, he began working it into his asshole.
"Hey, where did you learn about that stuff?"
"You're not the only one who surfs the net," Taran replied with a smile.
Smearing more of the lubricant on his stiff cock, Taran finally got into position. As he leaned forward, Tay took his bone in his hand.
"Hey, I think you've gotten bigger since we last saw each other."
"Yep, by half an inch."
"We're almost the same size now," Tay observed, his own being just over five-and-a-half inches.
"Wish it was twice as long and twice as thick so I could give you a good time."
"Hey, that would be painful. I like you just as you are dude."
Taran smiled as he lowered himself. Tay guided his knob to his door. As Taran pressed forward, Tay strained to open up to him. For the next couple minutes the boys were silent as they tried to connect. Both were new and inexperienced at this sort of thing, and all the erotic stories and all the gay pictures couldn't prepare you for the real thing. Taran was about to think he was doing something wrong, or that this position would not work, when he felt his knob begin penetrate Tay. He inhaled deeply as he pushed down and felt Tay's sphincter slip about the head of his cock.
Tay grunted with the exertion as he both tried to relax and to open up his anus. As he felt Taran's solid flesh finally begin to penetrate him, he inhaled deeply and held his breath. He felt the hot boycock slowly sink into his body until all five-and-a-half inches were snugly buried up his rectum. Taran paused and looked down at him with a wide grin, and he returned the smile. Taran bent forward slowly and Tay struggled to raise himself. Their lips met in a hot, desperate kiss. God, Tay thought, this is so fucking hot. He watched Taran's face as the teenager began to work his hips to and fro in a slow and as of yet novel rhythm. A melody played in both boys' minds: "mmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba duba dop, Ba du."
Taran smiled down at Tay as he humped his ass. He was so fucking beautiful, and it was so cool fucking his ass and being able to look into those deep blue eyes and that delicate face with the little mole on his chin and scar on his left cheek. Taran inhaled Tay's Ckbe and sighed. He worked his cock in and out slowly, wanting this pleasure to last forever. When he finally felt himself reaching that inevitable peak, he froze and tried to think of the most asexual thing he could. He thought of some of the fan letters he'd gotten from girls saying how hot they were for him. Once his passion had subsided, he resumed his fucking.
Tay had been doing the same, thinking of the screaming preteen girls at the concert that night to stop himself from cumming. If the girls only knew, he thought with a smile. He reached down and grasped his boner and began to pump it.Jerking off while a friend is fucking your ass was a very different experience than jerking off in the hotel can or the bathroom at home. He had to squeeze his throbbing boner below the knob several times to stop from cumming. It had to be perfect. They had to come together.
The two boys reached their peaks and allowed themselves to cool down a second time, but as they started up for the third time, they knew it would be brief, and that when the time came, they were not going to be able to resist going to the end. Their breath grew deeper and louder as they approached that magical moment. The two hot teens began to speed up, Taran pumping his cock in and out of Tay's asshole with a rapid, steady rhythm, and Tay pumping his hot cock in time to Taran's humping. "MmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bop, ba du dop, Ba du dop, ba du dop, Ba du."
If anyone had been watching, they would have been unable to tell which boy came first. Taran suddenly quivered and thrust his body forward, and Tay trembled at the same time. Both boys' breaths shuddered as they released their hot boy juices, Taran's squirting up Tay's hot, pulsating hole, and Tay's squirting out of his throbbing cock and striking his smooth, hairless chest. Hot white cum spurted forth like fountains from the two boys, and they sighed and groaned with the joy of release, and the joy of having pleased each other.
Taran at last withdrew his still stiff organ, and as Tay lowered his legs, Taran eased farther up over his body. As he lay down, their hot, hard cocks lined up side by side and were pressed between their flat stomachs. The last hot jizz was squeezed out of their boners and oozed between their bellies. Taran leaned forward, his smooth, perspiring chest pressing against Tay's, and the two boys kissed. As their tongues entwined, Tay's hot semen spread between the two panting chests and pounding hearts. It was a wonderful beginning to what was going to be a long and wonderful night. | 3 |
4,713 | Exam | "Number three, on the right," said the nurse, holding a clipboard. I started down the corridor, left to my own devices, looking at the numbered doors. Something always makes me nervous about visiting doctors, even though this was just a routine check: the league wanted assurance that I wasn't going to have a heart attack during the games. I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
It was occupied. "Oops, excuse me," I said, backing out. Then I stared, frozen - a nurse had turned around and looked at me. She smiled at me: her smile said *you and I are both enjoying this*. But it was the patient that brought me up short: it was a man lying on the examining table, totally naked!
I quickly shut the door and discovered I must not have been paying attention because the number on the door was *two*.
I stood there, my mind racing. The man had been blindfolded! He was lying face down, his hands and feet at the corners of the table, fastened to it with cloth, canvas restraints around his ankles and wrists. I went on and found room three. The nurse! She'd had rubber gloves on both hands and was holding something shiny and metal: I had no idea what it was, but it was a little rod, about 8 inches long and a couple inches in diameter and was rounded at one end. I cautiously peeked in room three, which was empty, and went in. The door closed behind me.
I hadn't even sat down when the door opened to reveal the nurse with the clipboard. She looked at the clipboard, then up at me: "OK, get undressed and sit on the examining table. You can put your clothes on that chair." While she talked, the doctor appeared behind her and stopped to talk to her.
"Number two is ready," she said to him.
"Is Julie in there?"
"Yes."
He paused and looked at me. "This one?"
"He'll be next."
"Good. Come along, I'll need you in number two right now." At that, she followed him out and the door closed again. I stood there a minute, feeling like something puzzling was going on. Finally, I started to get undressed. When the Doctor had looked at me, I thought I saw his eyes briefly glance down at my pants! I heard the sound of the next examining room's door close. Then I heard voices, but I couldn't make out the words. But I definitely heard male and female talking. Then there was some laughing and giggling! I was down to my underpants. But instead of sitting on the table, I stood next to the wall, listening. I heard another little giggle. Then there was a smacking or slapping sound, four times. Then talking and another giggle.
Then walking and the door opening. I went back to the table to make sure I wasn't caught eavesdropping. My door opened and the nurse with the clipboard appeared again.
"OK, Mr. Sanford," she said as the door closed. She glanced down at me. "You need to take *them* off too." She was undoing the hose from a blood-pressure meter that was attached to the wall. I just sat there, watching. Finally, she had it ready and to put on my arm and had put a stethoscope on and looked back at me. "Go ahead, get them off," she said.
I stood up and slipped them off, putting them on the rest of my clothes on the chair. She gave me a little smile, then motioned me to come over so she could take my blood pressure.
There I stood, a foot from her, my arm caught between her forearm and her body as she wrapped my arm and pumped. Wearing nothing. It was definitely weird. She was all business though, and was soon done.
"OK, lie down on the table," she said. I looked at her - I didn't quite know what to make of this. I knew they might well attach electrodes to listen to my heart and need me to lie down. But the memory of that next examining room kept me on edge. Certainly they'd listen to my chest and ask questions and things before anything like that. "Go ahead," she said.
It was embarrassing. There I was, totally exposed. I did see her glance at it, but nothing more than a glance. "OK, turn over so you are on your stomach," she said. She had a blindfold in her hand! "Come on," she added.
"What are you going to do?" I asked before I caught myself.
"Don't worry, just do it," she said, and I caught a hint of amusement in her voice. She was obviously waiting for me, the blindfold in her hand. I turned myself over. I noticed restraints on the counter, looking like the ones I'd seen the man in as I glanced around. "OK, here we go," she said, when I was on my stomach, moving to put the blindfold on me.
"What *is* this!?" I blurted and quickly sat up. This wasn't right.
"Please, Mr. Sanford, lie down again," she answered. I stared at her. Too strange. "I don't have all day," she went on, looking a little perturbed.
"Forget it," I said, getting up and grabbing my underpants. I started dressing.
"Mr. Sanford!"
"I'm leaving. I don't want any of *this*... whatever it is." I was dressed and headed back down the corridor, leaving the nurse standing there, seeming all the world like she couldn't believe I was doing this.
A woman was at the front desk talking to the receptionist as I approached the front desk and she started out of the office, leaving right ahead of me. As she held the door for me, she looked back at me and I realized it was a woman who lived on my block. "Oh, hi," she said, smiling.
There we were, walking out into the parking lot. I realized her smile had been a little nervous. I didn't know her first name; Beth and I always refer to her as Mrs. Jackson. I figured she was in her forties, maybe ten years older than Beth and me. "Uh, listen," she started talking as we walked. "You won't tell my husband about this, will you?"
This was weird. I thought about what I'd seen in the doctor's office. "You won't, will you?" she repeated. I realized she was looking very desperate.
"No," I said. I hardly ever talked to either of them so I'd have no trouble doing that for her. I briefly wondered what it was that she didn't want me to tell him: that I saw her here?
She grabbed my arm. "Please?" she said. She looked like she clearly didn't believe me, though I couldn't imagine what would make her think that. "Please don't tell him!" She looked almost like she was going to cry.
"I won't. I said I won't."
"I *mean* it. Listen, come here," she said, still sounding concerned. She pulled on my arm back toward the building. But she pulled me behind the building. I was out of my element. I just followed along.
She stopped and said. "Look, I'm *desperate*.""*Please*
don't."
"Look, it isn't any problem. I really don't talk to him anyway." While I was talking, she still held my arm but looked back the way we came and then looked the other way around the building. We were between the building and a high fence. Suddenly, she was on her knees in front of me, unzipping me! She glanced up at me with pleading eyes, then had my cock out and in her mouth! I looked back and forth the way she had: we were out of sight.
She quickly started bobbing her head, bringing her lips up and down the length of my cock. I stared at her. I don't think I'd ever really thought about her as someone I'd be attracted to, but she was reasonably good-looking. And this was absolutely unique to *my* experience: being sucked off in an alley! She didn't stop, just went on and on, and soon I was coming in her mouth.
She sat down on the ground, her arms draped around my legs, looking exhausted herself. In a few seconds, she was up again, and licking my cock, and I realized she was trying to clean it. She glanced up at me again, and I didn't see the fear I'd seen before. She put my cock back in, zipped me up, and stood up.
She looked up at me, not saying anything. I couldn't imagine what she was thinking. I realized she had a speculative look in her eye. "Come here," she finally said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to the parking lot. She pulled me to a car and told me to get in the passenger side. She had her key out, and it was evident that it was her car.
I was curious. What was she thinking? I went along with it and sat there, and soon she was driving us. She didn't say anything, but one time she did look at me, and I saw her smile as she looked back at the road.
Finally, we pulled into a driveway--it wasn't our block or even anywhere close.
"Come on," she said, getting out of the car. I followed her up to the front door, where she pushed the doorbell button and stood there waiting, glancing up at me one more time as she waited.
A young woman answered the door--early twenties at the most: she seemed too young to me to be the owner of the house. She and Mrs. Jackson started talking right away, and in a minute, Mrs. Jackson introduced her to me as Lisa.
"I work in Dr. Starne's office two mornings a week," volunteered Lisa.
"She's a nurse," added Mrs. Jackson. Mrs. Jackson was taking off her clothes!
The front door was shut, but we were standing in the middle of Lisa's living room, and Mrs. Jackson was taking her clothes off, seemingly as fast as she could. Lisa watched her a little while, glanced at me, and then went across the room to a little cabinet.
Mrs. Jackson looked at me. "Hurry, get them off!" she said.
"Listen," I said, wondering what I was going to say, "I..." I stood there, mute for a second. Lisa had returned from the cabinet. Both of them were looking at me, and Mrs. Jackson was naked.
"Yes?" Mrs. Jackson prompted.
"I didn't stay." I can't say my voice was very strong.
"Didn't stay?"
"I... that was my first time at Dr. Starne's office, and I left before..." I couldn't go on--think of what to say. In fact, I really didn't *know* what I'd left before. They both looked up at me, seeming to be amazed. I realized Lisa had blindfolds and handcuffs in her hands--for two people! The three of us were frozen.
Lisa was the first one to move. "Don't worry about it," she said, putting the items she was holding on a table. Then she was right up to me, reaching up and unbuttoning my shirt! Mrs. Jackson was there in an instant, too, undoing my belt and pants! "Listen, this'll be great," said Lisa, looking excited. She had my shirt unbuttoned and was pulling it off. Mrs. Jackson had my pants and underpants down at my ankles and was trying to get my shoes untied and get me to step out. Lisa had my shirt off, and I was in just a tee-shirt. She looked at it for a second, then started unbuttoning her own blouse. I noticed that laying on the small cabinet were some dildoes and a small whip.
Soon Mrs. Jackson had everything but my tee-shirt off, and Lisa was down to her bra and underpants. Lisa pulled my head down and started kissing me, wrapping her arms around my head. Mrs. Jackson was behind me, and I felt her fingering my rear. "Let's sit down," Lisa finally said, and we sat on the couch, one on each side of me. Mrs. Jackson started pulling off my tee-shirt. As soon as it was off, Lisa pulled me into another kiss. Mrs. Jackson leaned over and had my cock in her mouth again. This time she didn't bob her head, but just sucked it and tongued it. They kept doing this for a minute or more, then Lisa broke the kiss and said quietly to me: "You're going to *like* this." Then she was kissing me again.
There were noises in the room, and I realized another woman was standing in front of us! I broke away from the kiss, staring at her. Lisa looked up at the woman, who was fully dressed, just watching us. She looked to be about Lisa's age, but her hair was darker and shorter.
"What's going on?" asked the woman.
"He got cold feet at Starne's," said Lisa. Mrs. Jackson was still sucking on my cock and doing a good job too. The woman didn't answer, but she gave a quick giggle as if she hadn't managed to catch herself.
I was going to come again. Mrs. Jackson didn't stop, and I felt like I was out of control.
"Can you call them?" asked Lisa, apparently to the standing woman.
"Sure, what's the number?"
"555-1212."
The woman looked ready to go, but then just stood for a second. "What should I say?" she finally asked. I was getting closer--so close. I think since I'd come before, it was taking exquisitely long.
"Get Starne to come over during lunch."
"Julie? Vicki?" I was so close to coming.
"Whatever. Yes, I guess so since we've got two of them."
"*I* could help." She had this grin on her face.
"Oh, *sure* you could," answered Lisa, her voice sounding patronizing, like a mother talking to her two-year-old.
"I *could*! I've watched, you know."
"Kiss me," said Lisa, and she stood up. She and the woman were kissing in seconds, and it seemed they had forgotten us completely. The woman's hands went up and down Lisa's back as they kissed, and finally one slipped inside the waistband of her underpants. They just kissed and kissed, seemingly oblivious to us. I came. | 4 |
4,726 | [Paint] | "Her beauty is like a whisper."
"A whisper? What do you mean?"
"Hmmm... When it hits you, you feel like you're something -- something special. Like she only means for you to watch the rise and fall of her breasts. Like you're the only person who is permitted to watch her legs plunge from that beatific apex, down down down to her, yes her _dainty_ ankles..."
"You're quite poetic."
"It's because when I watch her, I try to explain her beauty to myself. Oh, I know it can't ever be explained, but what's the harm in trying? And weeks of trying have started to affect my everyday thinking. But what I do is I sit there, watching... It's odd, actually. She could see my face, see me sitting right there in her bushes, if she'd only turn and look. But she never does. She's always too absorbed in her pai..."
"You -- let me get this straight. You watch her?"
"Oh, I'd never hurt her."
"Do you know who she is?"
"Yes." A smile darted across the shadows of my soul. "Oh, yes. It's Iris. Isn't that such a beautiful name? So fitting."
"So... how did you come to meet Iris?"
"I didn't."
"I see."
"What? What are you writing in that notebook of yours?"
"Nothing. Tell me more about Iris. Why did you choose her to watch?"
"Choose." A dry chuckle. "I chose her no more than a man chooses when to be born. My heart chose her."
"Ah."
"Can't you understand what I'm saying?"
"I understand what you mean."
"No, you don't. You don't understand. Look at it this way. I was _taken_ by her. She was just walking down the street, and with one glance, I was hooked. You know... I can even remember what she wore. Black leathers. So tight that it... Well, it looked like... paint... on her skin. Have you ever seen someone who is wearing paint for clothing?"
"I can't say that I have, no."
"It's so sensual. Sometimes you can't even tell at first that it's paint, but when you do, arousal hits you, bam, like a train."
"Have you seen painted people often, then?"
"She does."
"She sees painted people often?"
"No, she paints herself often."
Pause.
"Nobody sees it. She lives alone, so nobody knows it. She paints wild designs, and sometimes portraits. She slides her fingers over her face and down her neck and across her chest. Her arms. Her belly. Orange and green and black, wild, kaleidoscopic designs that swirl and dip and groove in a harmony of color. Rock 'n roll. Heavy metal! Yes!"
"She paints herself?"
"And it gets her off. Her slippery fingers can barely keep hold of her nipples, they're so hard. Her -- her chest starts to heave with her uneven breathing. Still, her fingers move. Down the valley of her belly, around, around the slight swell. Down! Her fingers move down! The delta of her thighs. She... Oh, her fingers never stop. She shaves so she can paint designs on the roundness of her sex. And then she paints her inner thighs, her labia, her clitoris."
"That may not be healthy."
"She comes in an explosive orgasm. It never takes long. Her fingers are so slippery with the paints and she's so aroused from her beautiful foreplay that in no time, she's thrashing and moaning. I can hear her. And when she is done it's a beautiful work of art. The previously plain canvas decorated in splashes of vivid color and shapes."
"That's... quite unusual."
"Damned right it's unusual. But it's lovely. She's quite talented. My favorite is the cat she did last Thursday. Her breasts were transformed into big, green eyes. It's hard to describe -- it's -- look, here's a photo."
"I really don't think -- oh, my. She is talented."
"She is, isn't she?"
"But let me put it this way. She is talented, don't get me wrong. But you tell me she does it in solitary?"
"Yes. She's never done it for any of her friends, or for her lover."
"She does this for her own pleasure, then?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think it would detract from the enjoyment of her painting if she were to think that it wasn't her own private experience?"
"Doctor..."
"Because I think that art comes from the reaches of one's soul, the ultimate personal place."
"Yet inside every artist is an exhibitionist screaming to get loose."
"Perhaps -- but then, how could you explain Emily Dickinson?"
"Her exhibitionist side never surfaced. She bottled it up inside. The despair in some of her poetry shows how it made her feel."
"But that despair added a beautiful element to her poetry. Her poetry was an outlet for her feelings. Nevertheless." He seemed irritated. "Does this artist seem to like others viewing her work?"
"Obviously not."
"Well, then, why do you watch?"
Silence.
"Because," I said a trifle bitterly, "because art can never be private. Because this is the most beautiful expression of art that I could imagine, but due to the natural prudity that is in our genes, we cannot put it on display at a museum. And it's wrong to hide it. This is the best exhibition I could ever go to."
"Well... ok. First, This is not a case of human nature wanting to reveal nudity -- this is a case of a woman finding pleasure in things she does for herself only. And you would be robbing her of that pleasure. Second..."
"I think she knows that I watch her. Otherwise, why would she keep the window shades up?"
"You said she never looks."
"She's a woman. Women have eyes on the back of their heads -- you should know that. She's -- it's an instinct, I think. A feeling. You know, 'I felt their eyes boring into the back of my head.' Only it isn't the back of her head I'm looking at..."
"Therefore, she likes it?"
"Yes. That's what I'm saying."
"I'm almost tempted to recommend that you go talk to her about it."
"It wouldn't come over well, would it?"
"It would be a 'way-we-met' story to beat all others."
"Are you recommending it?"
"No."
"What, then?"
"I'm . . . strongly . . . recommending that you come in for another appointment this Friday, as we are currently out of time."
"Ah. I'll see you then."
"Goodbye."
"Bye."
(c) LeAnna 1998
[email protected]
http://geocities.sucks.com | 1 |
4,743 | The Partners | "Hey, honey," Mitch said as he towel-dried his body, making certain that the helpless female attorney had a bird's-eye view of his swollen member. "Still here, I see." He slapped her elevated rump playfully once and then harder the second time and still harder for a third time. The sting of each slap caused tears to fill the girl's eyes again. Mitch saw this and gave her a light kiss on the nose.
"Don't cry, sweet thing. It won't all be painful. I promise. See? I can be nice. Let me undo those wrists."
He placed her on her back and then fulfilled his promise by untying her wrists from her ankles. She looked up at him thankfully, glad to be in a different position and even happier to be able to rub the circulation back in her hands. Mitch saw her look from him to her ankles, which were still securely tied to her thighs, and said,
"Sorry, baby, no can do. The ankles stay just as they are. I like seeing that cute tush of yours like that."
Wendy continued to rub her wrists to get the circulation going and absently placed her untied hands by her mouth. Mitch saw what she was doing and grabbed her hands.
"See what happens when you try to be nice?" he taunted. "You give an inch and she takes a yard." He looked down at her sternly and raised his voice to a near scream, "Who the hell told you to take the gag off? If I want the fucking gag off, I'll take it off!" Anger danced across his face as he once again flipped her on her stomach, pulled the ropes that were attached to each of her wrists, and strictly tied them to the bed's posts.
His tone softened as unexpectedly as it had hardened seconds before.
"Wendy," said Mitch. "You really must try harder to not piss me off. Okay?"
She nodded. "Good girl. Now, do you want a drink of water?" She nodded again. "Okay, but you have to promise not to scream. Not that it'd do you any good because it's quite a distance to the nearest neighbor, but screaming will definitely make me mad. You promise?"
She nodded for a third time, and he nodded back to her before reaching to peel the white surgical tape from her mouth. When all of the tape was removed, he told her to stay still until he got back with her water. He was still buck naked with a raging hard-on.
She was tempted to spit out the black handball, but remembering the brief spanking she had just received, decided to bide her time for now and behave. Sooner or later, she thought, an opportunity to escape this hell she found herself would arise. Mitch quickly returned with a glass of ice water and a straw. He reached his index finger in her mouth and popped the ball free. Wendy coughed a few times and tried to get the saliva running again. The ball had tasted horrible, and the foul taste remained with her even though the gag was out of her mouth.
"Here," said Mitch, offering her the straw so she could sip the water.
"Thank you," she said between sips from the straw.
"You're welcome," he replied.
When she was done drinking, she looked at him and hesitated before speaking in a low, calm voice. "Mitch, please let me go."
"No way, baby. No way."
"You can't keep me a prisoner forever," she stated.
"Why not? No one even knows you're missing. And, by the time someone files a missing person report and finds your Jeep, they'll just assume you were carjacked by some serial killer or something. Face it, Wendy, you are mine."
She began to cry again as the impact of Mitch's words were driven home. Could he be right? Would anyone miss her? And if so, would they think she was a captive in Mitch's isolated cottage? Doubt filled her mind, and the tears began to flow again. "Well, what are you going to do to me?" She knew the answer but felt she had to ask the question anyway.
Mitch laughed aloud and smacked her ass again. "Anything I want, sweetie. Anything I want." He offered her another sip of the water, but she shook her head. Mitch shrugged and put the glass on the dresser. "Like I said, I'm going to do anything I want to you, and you know what I want now, Wendy?" he asked as he cupped her chin in his hands. She stared up at him but remained silent. "I want you to suck my cock." And as he completed the sentence, he pulled her chin down, causing her to gasp in surprise and open her mouth wide enough for him to plunge his throbbing dick in it. "See, honey? I told you that I'd gag you with something sweeter than that old handball. But, let me warn you, Wendy. I better not feel any teeth, or you will really be sorry."
He thrust in and out of her mouth. For some reason, though, he was disappointed. He thought Wendy would have been much better at giving a blow job, but she really seemed like a novice to him. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but he thought she'd have been a little more skilled. "Oh, well," he thought. "She'll learn." He smiled as he planted his hands on each side of her ass and continued to fuck her mouth. She tried to accommodate his massive cock and, for her own comfort, get into the rhythm of Mitch's thrusting, but he was too big, and she found herself gagging. She barely heard Mitch as he whispered to her to keep sucking as she concentrated on trying to breathe while his swollen cock choked her. She prayed that he would stop, but her prayers went unanswered.
After a while, Mitch eased off on his thrusting. He knew he was ready to explode, but he was holding back. He had something else in mind. "Wendy," he said, "Don't move." She stayed still and felt a cold metal against her backside. Snip! Mitch had produced a pair of scissors and cut away her powder blue panties. He raised them to his face, saw that they were somewhat stained and very wet, and deeply inhaled their aroma. The panties were a lot moister than they were when he had first stripped and tied her.
"Cool! Now, check this out, bitch," he said as he slid his dick from her mouth. "Look how wet these panties are. I think you're enjoying this as much as I am." He held the panties by her face, certain that she, too, was smelling her sex on them. She looked up at him, eyes blazing with anger, and defiantly spit on the floor. Mitch laughed.
The captive girl looked him square in the eye and said, "I hate you! I really . . . aargh." Her words were trapped in her throat -- trapped behind the soiled panties that Mitch suddenly shoved deep in her mouth. He filled her mouth with the panties, laughing as he did so.
"Suck on that for a while, bitch." He looked at the naked struggling girl and felt himself becoming aroused again. He still had not cum, but he knew that would change shortly. Wendy moaned behind the new gag and swung her lower body back and forth. It looked funny to Mitch because he had tied her so her ass was still in the air with her feet tied to her thighs.
"You know something, bitch?" he asked as he moved behind her to better admire her pale white ass. "I was thinking. You know how you used to strut around the office like you were the lord's gift to litigation? Like your shit didn't smell? Everyone used to wonder if you had a stick up your ass. Well, let's test that theory." He quickly thrust his index finger between her exposed cheeks and into her waiting asshole. She writhed in pain at this unexpected attack. "Nope," he said as he probed with his finger. "No stick up there." He laughed cruelly as he plunged his rock-hard member into her asshole. "No stick. Just my dick."He thrust into her, savoring her tightness and enjoying her struggling, which only seemed to excite him more. In and out, deeper and deeper. She cried and threw her bottom up and down like a bucking bronco, but Mitch held on and kept himself firmly planted in her backside. Suddenly, he knew he was ready to explode. He pulled himself out of her ass, scurried around to the front of the bed, and pulled the panties from her mouth. Wendy lay sprawled on the bed, exhausted. She opened her mouth to take a deep breath, but by the time she saw what Mitch was up to, it was too late. As she inhaled deeply to breathe clean air, he once again thrust his dick in her mouth. She choked and gagged on his cock, which, she sickeningly remembered, had only seconds ago been up her ass. Her torment increased as she involuntarily sucked on his dirty cock, which violently exploded in her mouth, sending a long, steady stream of semen down her throat.
When he was finally spent, Mitch removed his dick from her mouth and wiped it on her panties. He then stuffed them back in her mouth and secured it there with a small length of cord. The helpless female attorney lay sprawled on the bed, gasping and sobbing. "Not a bad way to start the morning," said Mitch, who was now wearing a bathrobe. "Hey, Wendy," he laughed. "How would you like to see the rest of my house? Let's go check out the basement." He scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the bedroom. | 1 |
4,746 | The Tales of Hampton Wick (Part 7) | "Got you at last." Tommy cried, lashing the startled boy across the buttocks with his hand.
Barelyable to feel the blow through the thickness of his denim dungarees, Scotty Armstrong didn't give a vocal answer, he simply turned and faced his captor.
Smack!
The blow to his cheek made Scotty's eyes water.
"Move!" Tommy ordered, repeating the order as necessary until he had the slightly younger boy safely inside the Groundsman's hut. Only then did Scotty realise what was happening. Only there's nothing to be seen but his big brother's best friend whose intent is made plainly obvious by the stretched condition of his trousers.
"Drop 'em!"
It was a familiar pattern just as it was to all boys of the generation. Faced with such a demand from an elder boy there was nothing for him to do but unfasten the braces of his overalls and step out of the garment. Naked, he stood, his prick already rising. Tommy ignored it.
"Lie on the mat."
The boy wasn't even down when Tommy snatched the legs from under him and flattened him on the floor. Flicked onto his back, limbs stretched, one by one, until both wrists and ankles were secured to pegs hammered into the compacted mud floor.
His prisoner helplessly laid out across the floor, Tommy spent a few moments looking over the pretty sight that reminded him so much of his best friend, only smaller, and more manageable. The heavy mane of dirty, blond hair trailed about the deeply sun-tanned flesh, providing a contrast so harsh it became delightful in itself. The skin, an even colouring everywhere but under the raised arms and around the stretched crutch. There, only a light brushing of pubic hair broke the soft lines and crystal white of the unblemished flesh. The puppy fat that had recently covered Scotty had disappeared in the last few months but as he'd only recently left the village school and entered full-time employment the strength and definition of Chris had yet to break through to the surface. Yet already the shade and structure of sizeable boy could be detected, most noticeably in a prick that, despite the three year age gap, was only half-an-inch smaller than the weapon secreted inside Chris's trousers.
Although thinner, Scotty's prick roared up in an erection so intense it didn't stand horizontal rather, lay flat upon the harden abdomen as if begging to be wanked. The boy duly moaned as Tommy snatched his prick and gave it the flick-test. Pulling it all the way down until the shaft pressed between the twin bollocks and then releasing it so it snapped up, with a smack, back where it had come from.
"This," Tommy said seriously as he picked up the prick, "Can get you into serious trouble and I should know. You have to learn to control it. Do you want me to show you how they taught us to do that at the orphanage?"
Scotty, who'd heard Chris tell some wild tales of the all-boys home in which Tommy had grown up, nodded eagerly.
Smiling, the youth reached for the thin wooden ruler he'd lifted from Mr. Nelson's workshop and showed it to the helpless boy. "This is what the Superintendent used if he found a boy stiff during his night rounds." The prick throbbed in anticipation. "Slowly, he'd creep up to the sleeping boy, and lift up the course blanket each of us had. Not allowed to sleep in our clothes, we'd be naked underneath. Carefully, so as not to wake us, the Superintendent, would move the stiff boy into a workable position and then deliver his punishment."
Whistle! Slap!
The ruler landed on the slanted eye at the end Scotty's prick. The pain jerked him against the ropes holding him and caused the cry to stick in his mouth even before it had began to form. His prick dropped instantly.
Tommy laughed. "Works every time. Fancy another go?" he offered.
His eyes watering, Scotty declined in a voice croaked with emotion.
"Oh well. maybe you'll change you mind after work." Tommy stood up. "I'll see you later."
"He ain't going to be here is he?"
"He might." Gerald answered his distraught friend. "You saw the look on Cotton's face. He had been up to something. I'd bet the Estate on it."
"Yeah, but you know what happened last time we was caught here. Your arse ain't going to take much more beating."
"You let me be the judge of..."
"Heeeeellllpp!"
The two boys stopped in their tracks. Nervously Paul grasped at his friend's arm. "What the fuck was that?"
"No idea." Gerald shrugged. "There's only one way to find out!"
Paul opened his mouth to protest but the future Lord was already on his way towards the hut they'd been skirting around. Not overly eager to relive his many punishment sessions within the wooden walls, Paul hung back until Gerald's cry of, "What do we have here?" brought him running.
"Help!" the bound boy repeated less hysterically as the boys entered his prison. "Tommy done this to me and I can't get out."
"So it would seem." smiled Gerald. "Paul, see if you can lend a hand."
The large framed boy soon released the ankles but was stopped when he went to move onto the wrists. "There is no need for that." Gerald told him.
The dirty blond head snapped up, with the question, "Why the hell not?"
Ignoring the interruption, Gerald directed his next comment to Paul, "I think it would be preferable if he remained silent during our activities."
Neither Paul nor Scotty understood the latter part of his sentence but the initial thrust was soon put into action. Once more Paul's filthy hankie was pressed into another boy's mouth, as an effective gag.
"There, that is better, is it not?" The question rhetorical, no one answered in the pause given. Gerald gave Paul a prod before continuing. "I think it would be best if we employed the method we initiated in Cotton's bedroom. Would you care to have the boy prepared for such an operation?"
Paul shook his head at his friend's strange way of speaking, and then asked for his help. Gerald seated upon the miscreant's legs so the rope could be refastened to the left ankle. Paul then selected a suitable position on the wall from where he removed the tool which hung there and wrapped the cord around the protruding nail, once. Exerting most of his strength on the end of the rope, lifted Scotty's leg from the floor and brought it backwards.
With no option but to roll into an inverted ball, Scotty moaned and groaned through his gag as his body contorted until his knees are pressed to either side of his face. His arse raised completely from the floor. Tossing his head back he can see his toes pressed into the side wall and the red rings the cord made in his tender flesh as it bit down. By craning his neck up the view changes to that of his own prick, complete with two inch wide rule-stripe, and inverted bollocks, but it is the view from between his folded legs which provided him with most concern. There, a saliva slickened, aristocratic finger brushed his erected prick and down the length of the shaft, across the base of his bollocks and into the immodestly widened crack of his arse. Trailing across the sensitive skin between balls and arsehole, it sunk lower and lower until it reached the anal lips themselves. There, it circled the opening, prodding and pushing until they gave slightly. The carefully manicured finger entered.
"Not at all tight." observed Gerald. "Should be a good fit."The bound boy's chest sighed for him as the finger came from his nether regions. He watched, staring, as Gerald slipped out of his neatly pressed clothing and displayed his five-inch prick. Pinching the skin between thumb and finger, the head becomes exposed. Red, wet, and ready to go.
Wanking in a steady motion, Gerald slickened his knob-end with the lubrication it provided and knelt behind the spread boy's arse. Continuing to please himself, he feasted for a couple of moments on the delightful hole before lifting his face from between the flexing buttocks and replacing it with his bulbous prick.
Screwing his eyes shut, Scotty concentrated all his attention on keeping the invader out. His sphincter contracted, locked tight against the intrusion. His bollocks seized in a death grip that simultaneously caressed and hurt. The pressure against his hole increased as Gerald leaned over and pressed his entire weight onto the opening between his legs. Little jabs were made, small twists, every trick in the arse-fucker's guidebook employed to get into him. Sooner or later, one of them had to work. At the moment his prick became enveloped in a pumping fist, Scotty surrendered to the inevitable and was impaled.
"Master Gerald!" Paul stage-whispered, "Master Gerald!"
The fucking, which had only just started, didn't stop although Gerald did call a temporary halt to his attempts to kiss the avoiding, gagged, mouth to ask what the trouble was. Paul never got the chance to answer. Someone else did though.
"Get off my brother Master Gerald, and turn around."Billy Nelson put his hands around the man's unshaven chin and rattled the great head, "Wake up dad!" he whispered to no avail. Gently he slapped the cheeks. Nothing. He bent, and kissed, reigning his lips over his father's.
Spotting the bear bottle was still half empty he tried a hair of the dog. Easing down the jaw, he rested the neck of the bottle upon his father's chin and raised the body. Slowly a trickle of golden liquid ebbed and flowed forward to drip into the cavernous mouth. Mr. Nelson groaned.
"Dad, dad," his youngest son chanted, "Paul's wants you to... you know? What you said."
The man's eyelids flickered but stayed firmly shut. "More drink!" he mumbled.
Billy tipped up the bottle. It was empty. "There ain't no more."
"Need more." The tongue extended, licking around the neck of the bottle so sexually even Billy couldn't help but notice and understand.
Quickly he stood, ripped his shirt down his arms and pushed his shorts to his knees. His pricklet thickening. Kneeling, he caressed himself with his right hand. "You sure Dad?" he asked.
"More drink!" was the answer.
Shrugging, Billy leaned over his father's face and pressed the tip of his foreskin to the licked lips. It slipped right in. Billy giggled and hunched his hips a couple of times, in experimentation. It felt great. He watched his father's head turn slightly to become directly in front of his young loins and allow his short length to slide all the way inside.
After a few minutes Billy's initial interest began to vanish. He didn't want such a passive partner. His big, strong, father shouldn't be made love to in such a fashion by a little boy. Mr. Nelson should be the one taking control of the situation. Yanking his still lengthening pricklet from the man's face, Billy tried, once more, to gain some sort of response from his father, but no matter how much he rattled the great head, or kissed the sucking lips he couldn't raise more than the faintest squeak. He returned to fucking it.
The first inch of Billy's pricklet having hardened, made the remainder drooped at an unfaltering angle, as if it were a balloon that had yet to be fully inflated. However, it as this which enabled him to give his father's face such a royal fuck as he did. Whilst the knob-end and majority of the shaft continued to point down the paternal throat, the erected sections allowed him to butt against lips and cause the foreskin to be retracted so the knob could press against the languishing tongue.
Slowly Billy's pricklet became teased by this and erected itself to its full four-and-a-half inch length which, by angling his father's head back slightly, Billy found he could poke right down into the tighter section of Mr. Nelson's throat. Muscles he didn't know he had rose up in his compact body as he hunched back and forth over the inert figure. Strands of mousy hair, flapped over his sweet, young, face until sweat forced them to cling to his scalp. Then it happened, his father began to wake.
It wasn't the prodding in his throat which woke Mr. Nelson, but the sensation of the hot, hairless, bollocks slapping against his nose. Memories of his brother flooded into his head, dispelling some of the alcohol that had languished there. His right hand raised, automatically, to take another beer and found the body crouched over him. The boy's torso jerked away in fright when he touched it but he soon calmed that by stroking the hollow beneath the tossed back shoulders. The huge fingers gradually widening the area under inspection to include the nearest hip and buttocks, before sliding beneath to stroke the hard, flat belly, and pinch the pin-prick nipples of his youngest son.
Initially Mr. Nelson was surprised to find out just whose pricklet it was that he had in his mouth for he'd never suspected little Billy possessed such a delightful prick as the one he chewed, let alone the knowledge of how to use it. Then, as he thought back to his own childhood, twenty-odd years, previously he realised such things must run in the family. More than once he'd laid under his beloved elder-brother, as the teenager's prick expanded the dimensions of his mouth and throat. He eased Billy up so he could fully explore what he'd bequeathed him.
The pricklet, erect now, pointed up tight to the belly as only a young boy's could. It's owner groaned and sighed as the adult's tongue lapped around the ridge inside the foreskin. A hand, gripping his arse, prevented him from sinking back into the warm, vacuuming mouth until the inspection had been completed and then directed the slowed rhythm once it had done.
Doing full press-ups now, Billy's eyes screwed shut and he bit down on his upper lip, surrendering himself to his father's loving caresses of his rear. One hand on the small of his back, the other sliding up and down between the upper parts of his thighs. Fingertips nestled against his swinging bollocks. "Fuck me Dad?" he whispered.
Suddenly he was thrown off. "I can't!" Mr. Nelson said.
"Why not?"
"You're too little."
"I'm not." Billy rose to his full five-foot-two-inch height, still stroking his pricklet. "You did it to Master Gerald."
For a moment Mr. Nelson remembered that chubby, white, aristocratic arse and the way it had felt to fuck it and how the future Lord had enjoyed it. Hearing a squishing noise of his trousers being undone he remembered what was being proposed. "He's older than you!"
"Not by that much."
"Enough... Oooohhh!" Mr. Nelson sighed. His prick was out now, being caressed in warm, manipulative fingers. "To make a difference."
"Bet I could take it," stated Billy, "I've been fucked before."
Mr. Nelson smiled, "Paul?"
"And Master Gerald, and Tommy, and Chris Armstrong, and..."
"Alright, I believe you. But I'm bigger than all of them. It even hurts your mum when I put it in her."
The image stifled Billy's keenness somewhat, although not enough. He'd remembered something that would help. "Will you do it," he said, "If I show you my bum can take it?"
"Why not?"
Billy took that to be the answer he wanted and snatched the beer bottle up. Releasing his pricklet for the first time he spat into his hand and rubbed it around the neck of the bottle. Looking into his father's confused eyes, he wanked the neck until recognition signalled between the generations.
Returning to wanking himself, Billy crouched, with his knees open and bent double and reached behind himself to place the beer bottle onto a patch of firm, flat ground and directed it to his hole. His lip again seized between his teeth, he wanked at a faster rate, and began to bounce the bottle against his anus.
Mr. Nelson's eyes almost popped right out of their sockets. From where he lay, he had the perfect view of all Billy held dear. The right hand little more than a blur on the pricklet, the bollocks beneath bounced and jingled, the action keeping them clear of the main area. Slippy fingers struggled to hold the bottle still at the bottom, whilst, at the top there was no such trouble. The neck couldn't go anywhere for it was firmly implanted in the rectum of his youngest son who seem intent on taking as much of it up him as he could. Every couple of seconds a little more would disappear and would then reappear only to vanish again along with that little bit more. In a fraction of a second Billy reached the bottom of the neck, where the diameter doubled.
"Careful Billy!" Mr. Nelson warned, his arse having bleed when thrust down on the balled handle of a shovel during his own initiation rites when he was little older than his youngest. Then, he'd had little control over how fast the timber had entered him, as he was tied and gagged and dropped onto it. Billy, on the other hand, had all the control in the world. Gritting his teeth so hard, they ground he raised himself to the very edge of the expansion and dropped.
"AAaarghh!" he groaned as the glass opened him wider. The pain more intense than he'd imagined threaten to split him. He tried to rise but his father held him down. The large hands wrapped around his thighs.
"Go on Billy. You can do it," he was encouraged.
"It hurts!" he spat but even as he said it the pain diminished to a dull throb that didn't feel so bad. He began to move. Not up this time but down. In little jerky motions he forced more of the glassware into him until there was little doubt he would be able to handle the solid lump of flesh that thrust itself out from his father's flies. This time there would be no argument.
Quickly father and son exchanged places. Billy lay face down on the floor with their combined clothes bundled up beneath his belly, his youthful arse angled up at what he hoped would be the perfect angle for fucking. He heard his father spit into his hand and felt the rubbing and lubrication of his crack and then up, into his hole. He felt so gaping and open after the bottle he hardly noticed anything until he squirmed all over the floor as a thick, working man's finger shoved itself deep inside him. He heard his father spit, coughing up a real handful which he then massaged into, and around, his knob-end. It pressed to Billy's hole, and pushed.
"Arghhhh!" the little boy shrieked in pain.
Hands dropped to his back, holding, caressing away the pain until he was ready to continue.
The second time, as always, wasn't so bad. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Billy felt his sphincter give way and, just as if he was having the biggest shit of his young life, backwards, his father's enormous prick slipped into his hole. He bucked against it.
"Get used to it first Billy," Mr. Nelson said with a laugh, holding back his son's rampant enthusiasm. "Then I'll stick the rest in."
Billy sighed, he thought he had it all. The thought of more slapped his pricklet against his belly.
"Take a deep breath, and keep doing it!"He followed the instructions exactly. Billy's father knew everything, or so the boy thought. Gulping down great lung-fulls of the unpolluted forest air only to exhale it in gasps as more prick fed itself into him.
No more words of instruction followed - it was all Mr. Nelson could do to gasp, the supreme tightness of Billy's anus rendered him next-to-speechless - for each participant knew exactly what to do in order to enjoy themselves. Sure, it hurt Billy a bit, more than a bit, having something as large as his father's prick stuffed up his arse, but felt good too. Better than good. Better than anything.
Mr. Nelson, for his part, went at it like a madman. Humping, pumping, wanking and fucking, he did the lot, all to his son. Every time he shoved in, he felt like he was coming home, completing the circle his own brother had started with him. Fulfilling the fantasies he'd had about his own father, providing that service for young Billy before the boy had even the chance to have it.
Somewhat squashed beneath his father's heavy body, Billy didn't think about anything but the prick pounding in and out of his rectum. Playing with his brother had been fun but that was kid's stuff when compared to what his father could do for him. He didn't need anyone to touch his penis for that was doing fine by itself as it pressed and rolled about the spunk drenched clothing, jumped each and every time his arse got poked from behind. He'd had so many orgasms he'd lost count, unsure there was any gap between them.
Suddenly, it was all over. With a strange cry Mr. Nelson rammed himself as high up into Billy's column as he could get, hugged the boy good and tight and shot his fatherly spunk out in great gushing streams.
For several minutes the couple remained joined at the hips with the larger of the two pricks still stuffed into the smaller anus even though it wasn't as hard as it once had.
"Billy," Mr. Nelson groaned.
"Yes dad," sighed the youngster flexing the internal muscles of his rectum.
"Why were you looking for me? Did your mum want something?"
"No. It's Paul."
Mr. Nelson panicked and tried to regain his prick. Billy wouldn't let it go, so he asked, "He's not in trouble is he, your brother?"
"No! Not yet but he wants to be."
"What's that mean?"
"NOoohh!" exclaimed Billy as arse filled again. "But, he wants to be."
The thrusting resumed as the youngster explained the teenager's plan, exciting his father's lust to a pitch that would have been unheard of by Mrs. Nelson. | 3 |
4,760 | Tit Torture-Free Site | "YOWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" Something zapped my breasts! I slammed forward and bounced backward, nearly falling over. I caught myself just in time and glanced around furtively, hoping nobody noticed. Fortunately, only a couple of people were in this computer cluster: one busily typing away at his workstation, and the other asleep with his head on the keyboard. It was eight in the morning; few people were still up this late.
As the pain in my breasts dissipated, I was able to breathe normally again. I nervously looked back at my workstation, wondering if I dared touch it. What the heck had happened? I had typed in a URL in Netscape and was waiting for it to connect when it happened! Netscape was there waiting, displaying my webpage in all innocence as if nothing had happened. I stood there, terrified to touch the workstation again.
Finally, I carefully reached around back and rebooted the workstation. I logged into the one next to it and composed an email to the system folk telling how the workstation had malfunctioned. Then I started up Netscape and tried to access the website again -- ZAP!
Not again! What the heck was going on? Was it my imagination, or had I briefly seen electric current jumping from the screen to the nipples of my breasts? They were sticking out noticeably under my tee-shirt, and they still felt extremely sensitive. I dashed off another furious email and logged off in a huff.
After class that afternoon, I logged in again. I went to a different cluster, with a different brand of workstations. I still remembered the soreness in my breasts. Maybe it was superstition, but I didn't want to take the chance.
I first checked my email. Sigh, it was mostly spam: "$50,000 Guaranteed!" "!Learn the Secrets of Attracting Girls!" "##Young, Hung, and Full of Cum!!" "High School Grrls Wanting and Ready for You!" "!!Tit Torture-Free Site!!" "Free Sex!" "Man Sucking Teen Tampon!" "No Spam! No Password! Simply HOT YOUNG GURLZ, Barely Legal!" "Get Rich Quick! Make $50,000!!" "Writers Wanted!" What was up with those idiots? Couldn't they tell from my name that I might possibly be female?
I also received a reply to my messages earlier this morning: They had checked the workstations and found nothing wrong with them; what I had described could not possibly have happened. Furthermore, I was not to reboot a workstation except under the direst emergency. Rebooting a workstation can potentially damage the workstation and the network. I angrily bumped that message to the "Extra" box. Yep. 'Twas "Notwork Noservices" for you.
I started up Netscape again and clicked on a URL. I waited expectantly, then -- ZAP! Owwww, my poor breasts! Why oh why me, why is this happening to me? I wondered, burying my head in my arms on the keyboard and weeping. When I sat back up, I noticed nearly everyone in the room looking at me. Embarrassed, I quickly clicked on the logoff button and walked out of the room in humiliation.
That evening after supper, I finally succumbed to temptation and logged in again, in a third cluster. This time, I decided to use Arena instead of Netscape, just in case. Of course, it was utterly ridiculous to think that the web had anything to do with those shocks on my breast. It had to have been pure coincidence that the shocks came just as I was opening a webpage. Something was the matter with those particular workstations; that's all it was.
Nevertheless, after typing in the URL, I stood up off to the side almost in front of the next workstation over. I kept waiting and waiting, not daring to press the ENTER key just yet.
"Excuse me, mind if I take this machine?" Yikes! I jumped, startled.
"Oh, yes. Of course." A bit embarrassed, I slid back to my own workstation. Apparently this was the only free workstation, and someone wanted to use it. Distracted, I pressed ENTER -- ZAP!!!! Everyone heard my shriek, I'm sure. The guy asked, "Is something wrong?"
"Yes, very wrong!" I managed to hold back my tears as I turned and walked out. I ran all the way to my dorm and upstairs to my room and jumped on my bed for a good long cry.
Of course, I couldn't keep myself off the Internet. I logged on again the next morning. Along with the usual spam, I received an email reminding me to log out when I leave, saying how tempted he was to invite everyone to a strip poker party. Okay, it was going to be another one of those days.
I slid down underneath the table before connecting to a website. Nothing happened that I could tell, but I decided to wait a couple of minutes just to be on the safe side.
"Excuse me, Miss. What are you doing under there?" came a harsh male voice above.
"Um, uh, checking something out."
"Young lady, if you have a problem with the computers, don't try to fix things yourself. You could break something. Report the problem to Network Services." I slid out from underneath, flaming in embarrassment. The man looked down at me. "Understand, young lady?"
I nodded, flaming. He turned and walked away. I turned to sit down at the workstation -- ZAP! Grrrrrrr! Somebody's going to be castrated for this! I imagined the scissors snipping: snip-snip-snip-snip.
The next time, I asked a girl sitting next to me to try it. She didn't know how to use Netscape, but once I showed her, she was able to access the web without problem. Meanwhile, I got ZAPPED again. She gave me a weird look, circled her finger around her ear, and left.
Another time, I slid a nice thick loop of rubber on me, across my breasts and around the back, under my tee-shirt. It was awfully tight, especially on my breasts, but it should be a good insulator, I thought. Anything would be better than being ZAPPED.
"What ARE you wearing under there?" someone asked on the way.
"Under where?" I pretended not to know what he was talking about.
"Rather strange underwear. We can see it through your clothes, you know."
I blushed and ran off. I should have worn a dark tee-shirt instead of a white one. Anyway, the thing didn't work; I got ZAPPED again. When I took it off that evening, I found two holes burnt through the rubber, right at my nipples.
The next time I logged in, someone asked, "What are you doing in that scuba suit?"
"What? Oh, am I still wearing this? I guess I forgot to take it off."
"Uh huh, right." He shook his head and walked away, muttering, "That girl needs help."
Sigh, nothing worked. I was always ZAPPED, no matter what site I accessed, no matter what workstation I used, no matter what web-browser I used. Ahhhhhh!!!!
Sorting through my email, removing the ever-increasing spam, I noticed one title that had been coming with obnoxious frequency: "Tit Torture-Free Site!" I blush to admit that I actually opened the spam and read it. The message was very short. "The Only Site You'll Ever Need!" followed by a URL repeated three times. Feeling really foolish at following up a spam, I clicked on the URL and Netscape popped up. Darn, too late! I twisted my body in what I knew was a futile attempt to avoid the ZAP, and then came --
Nothing. I looked at the screen. The webpage had loaded up, and -- miracle of miracles! -- I wasn't ZAPPED!
I never found out what was happening. But that no longer matters. Whenever I access the Web, I go to the "Tit Torture-Free Site." I will never use another site. This is The Only Site I'll Ever Need.
The ENDto/erotica/assm/faq. | 3 |
4,764 | Girls Loving Girls Part 2 | "Hi Lisa." Brenda held the door open. The petite seventh grader smiled and walked in, a small gym bag hung from her right hand.
"You guys are really great to let me come over," Lisa said as she stood in the foyer and looked around.
I could see her from the living room. She was dressed in short denim cutoffs and a Nike pullover. Her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail, and she wore white tennis shoes, no socks. Her legs were long and firm, and starting to take shape; the two little mounds on her chest were developing nicely. Brenda was right, she did have a cute ass, and it definitely filled out her snug shorts. My pussy tingled at the thought of licking it.
"Come on in, Lisa," I called. She walked into the living room, sat her bag down, and plopped down on the couch beside me. "You hungry?" I asked.
"No thanks, Karen, I ate just before I came over." Then she turned and looked at the TV. "What are you watching?" she asked with a startled expression.
I had one of my dad's X-rated video tapes playing in the VCR, the ones he and mom kept hidden and didn't think we knew about. I had located a hot scene just as Lisa arrived.
"Oh, this," I said nonchalantly. "We rented a couple of movies for tonight. You like adult films?"
As Lisa stared at the screen, two girls and a guy had just undressed each other. "Yeah, I guess," Lisa said, transfixed on the images. One girl knelt in front of the guy and put his dick in her mouth while the other girl crawled under her friend and ate her.
Brenda came over and sat on the other side of Lisa. "This movie is guaranteed to get you wet," she said.
"Yeah?" was all Lisa said, sinking back into the couch and slipping her shoes off.
"You don't mind if I turn the lights down, do you, Lisa?" I asked.
"No," she said, never taking her eyes off the sex on the TV screen.
As the movie continued, the scene got hotter: the two girls were doing each other in a sixty-nine while the guy screwed the one on top from behind. The girl on the bottom licked her friend's cunt and the guy's balls at the same time.
It didn't take more than a few minutes before I saw Lisa move her hand down between her legs. I tried not to let her know I was watching, but this was definitely promising. The hotter the movie made her, the better our chances of getting her out of those little tight shorts.
Lisa reminded me of some girls we had fun with last summer. Brenda and I were counselors at a girl's camp in the mountains. One night we wound up looking after six twelve-year-olds while the rest of the kids went on an overnight campout. It started raining, so the eight of us were stuck in one of the cabins. The girls were all restless and horny, and the conversation quickly turned to sex. One of them had smuggled in a copy of Penthouse and started reading the letters out loud. One story was about two cheerleaders who took a shower together and wound up making love. This brought a lot of suggestive comments about what would happen if we all showered together. Then we looked at the pictures and decided to vote on the best ones. The winner was a pictorial showing three lesbians in a hot tub doing what girls do best.
I was getting really turned on, and I told the girls I had to go pee. I motioned Brenda to follow me into the bathroom, and when we were alone, I suggested we sneak off to one of the other empty cabins and make love. To entice her, I put my hand down my jeans and slipped a finger into my already wet hole. I offered it to her, and she licked it clean, saying it tasted tempting. Then she pulled her pants down and sat on the toilet. As I watched her pee, she spread her legs so I could see the golden stream shoot out. We liked to watch each other pee, and I always got a tingle seeing her wipe herself. Lucky tissue.
As she pulled her jeans back up, she said that after what she saw earlier, we might have more fun staying there. I asked her what she meant, and she told me that two of the girls went outside on the porch to smoke a cigarette. After a few minutes, she went to the window to see what was taking them so long, and she saw them making out and feeling each other up. I immediately saw her point; my pussy moistened at the idea of eating something that young and sweet.
When we came out of the bathroom, the girls were still looking at the pictures in the magazine. This time it was a series of shots of a girl laying on her back in a bathtub letting the water shoot onto her pussy. Everyone agreed they had to try that as soon as they got home.
Brenda had a couple of joints, and we all sat around and smoked them. Then someone suggested we play strip poker. To make it interesting, we decided that the loser of each hand had to let another girl remove the article of clothing.
Brenda lost the first hand on purpose to break the ice. She picked me, and I pretended to be her boyfriend. I slowly unbuttoned her shirt, seductively sliding it off her shoulders. Then I went behind her, reached around, and playfully fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples through her bra. The girls called out for more and cheered me on. I pulled one side of her bra down and flashed them a nipple. This brought more cheers and applause.
I lost the next hand, so I stood up and made Brenda kneel in front of me and pull my jeans down. Like a guy shoving dollar bills in a stripper's garter, Brenda stuck a few playing cards in the top of my panties and asked me what she got for her "money". One of the cards was an ace, so I put it down the front of my panties and rubbed it on my wet pussy. I took it out and let her sniff. Then she passed it around, and the girls all agreed I smelled sexy. I told them they could sniff me for an ace and lick me with a full house. I'd go down on any girl that could come up with a straight flush. A couple of the girls frantically shuffled through the deck, trying to put the right combination of cards together. We were laughing so hard we cried.
Everyone really got into the game, whistling and clapping, yelling "take it off" or "go all the way".
I lost another hand. Brenda removed my bra and teased my nipples until they were hard and stuck straight out. Then she hooked her fingers in the sides of my bikini panties and slowly pulled them down until my bare slit was showing. Just the week before, we had started shaving each other's pussies. She tried to taste me, but I pushed her away, saying she only paid to sniff, not to lick. That brought tons of laughs and catcalls. I pulled my panties back up, telling the girls I hadn't technically lost them yet, but I'd still give them something to look at. Pressing the thin silk crotch together, I stretched it so it disappeared between the folds of my pussy; my lips stuck out on each side.
When I sat back down, I spread my legs so everyone got a good view. It made me so wet knowing seven girls were mentally eating me.
The effect of the grass was really kicking in now, and everyone was acting silly and having fun. The comments were getting very sexual, bisexual to be exact.
One of the girls lost the next hand. While her friend pulled the girl's shorts off, Brenda announced that all this was making her so horny she didn't care which one of us fucked her as long as it was soon.
Each time it was our turn to strip a piece of clothing off one of the girls, Brenda and I would "accidentally" touch them between their legs, brush their nipples or whisper something sexy in their ears.
By the time we were all down to just panties, everyone was masturbating, and the air was thick with the smell of wet pussies. Then a couple of the girls started French kissing and playing with each other.
One of the girls, a pretty little redhead with pink lace panties, had been staring at my partially exposed pussy for the last few hands. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes and the wet spot between her legs that she wanted to fuck me. Acting like there was no one else in the room, she stood up and slipped her panties off. Then she came over and sat in my lap, wrapping her legs around me. She held her panties up and asked me if I wanted a sniff. With our eyes locked on each other, I brought them to my nose, breathed deeply, and licked her girl-cum off the crotch. She smelled and tasted heavenly. Then she said that if I wanted, she could lick the real thing.We kissed passionately, and she ran her hand down between my legs. The other girls were going crazy watching us, and the last of their panties flew off.
Brenda went and turned out the lights, and the next thing I knew, there were naked girls everywhere. I had never heard so much slurping and sucking and moaning in my life. In the dark, it didn't matter who was with whom; it was a pussy-eating frenzy. My little redhead was so turned on that the first time I touched her clitoris, she screamed and climaxed. I remember at one point having two girls sucking my nipples, one eating me, and one sitting on my face. It was so much fun showing them how to please each other. The best part was when we all formed a daisy chain circle and everyone "ate at the Y."
Eventually, we paired off and found an empty bunk. I lost count of how many times I came that night because the girl I slept with was having the first orgasms of her life and she was insatiable; we fucked for hours. When she finally fell asleep, I laid there for a long time with her in my arms, listening to the erotic sounds of the other girls making love.
The next morning, I awoke from a wonderful wet dream to find my little redhead was back in my bed. She had her warm mouth on my breast and a finger in my pussy. I pulled her mouth to mine, and she tasted delicious. She said good morning and asked if I was hungry. I told her I was starving, and she giggled, saying she had something for me to eat.
Then she got up on her knees, straddled my face, and lowered herself down on my mouth. Soon, her cries woke up all the others, and it didn't take long before the sounds of girls loving girls filled the cabin. Finally, when everyone had climaxed one last time, we got up and came together in the middle of the cabin. At some point during the night, we had all made love to one another. Now we lovingly pressed our naked bodies together, kissing and hugging. The girls would be going home that day, so we promised that next summer we would have a reunion.
My little redheaded still calls me once or twice a month to talk about the night we made love. We always wind up masturbating together on the phone.
Thinking about how much fun I had with all that fresh girl-candy made my pussy ache as I sat next to Lisa and watched the porn flick. I was really turned on, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lisa rubbing herself.
"This is making me so hot," Brenda said and stood up. We wore only T-shirts and panties, and Brenda pulled her shirt over her head. She slipped her panties down and slid them off, purposefully bending over so Lisa got a full view of her ass and sex. Her nipples stood out like pencil erasers as she sat back down, this time right next to Lisa. God, she played dirty, I thought with a smile.
"What are you doing?" Lisa said. Her voice was more puzzled than alarmed as she looked at the naked girl beside her.
"I don't know about you," Brenda said, "but I'm so fucking horny." She started caressing her breasts and rolling her nipples between her fingers. "Does this bother you?" she asked Lisa. "If it does, I'll stop."
"Well, no, I guess not." Lisa was not attempting to hide the fact that she was rubbing herself now, and Brenda's beautiful, naked body so close to her only seemed to add to her arousal.
"I think you've got the right idea, Brenda," I said and pulled my shirt off. Without standing up, I slipped my panties under my ass and down my legs. Then I tossed them at Brenda, who held the crotch up to her nose. "Smells like somebody wants to fuck," she said and playfully tossed them back at me.
"Are you guys always this . . ."
"Horny?" Brenda said.
"Definitely," I added.
"Sometimes we get so turned on," Brenda said, "we do each other."
Lisa's eyes grew wide as she looked back and forth at our naked bodies. The timing was perfect as the movie changed to a girl-girl love scene. It was obvious I had picked the right tape; there were two beautiful, young girls French kissing. Lisa watched intently as they got into a sixty-nine and went down on each other.
"Don't you just love having your pussy eaten like that?" I said as I looked at Lisa.
"I've never . . . ." she said softly.
Her little body must be on fire by now, I thought. Her hands were between her legs, her fingers fighting their way under the edge of her shorts.
Brenda leaned over and whispered in Lisa's ear, "That'll be a lot more fun if you take your pants off."
Without hesitating, Lisa wiggled out of her shorts and panties, and pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts, the size of ripe plums, looked delicious. When her fingers went back to work, I looked down at the most beautiful little hairless pussy. Lisa's fingers moved in and out, her head back slightly, her breathing heavy. The sight made me light-headed.
Brenda winked at me, and I knew what she was thinking. In less than ten minutes, we had managed to get Lisa to take her clothes off and masturbate in front of us. This was too easy.
Phase two of our seduction of Lisa was about to begin. So far, it had been each of us doing our own thing. Now it was time for group involvement.
When the movie ended, I stood up. "I feel like dancing," I said and went over to the CD player. I put on a grinding rock song and moved back in front of the two naked girls. As the song started, I did my best slut dance; a lot of bending over and squatting down so Lisa could see what was between my legs. She stared at my crotch as I ran my hands up and down my body. Then I reached out and said, "Lisa, come dance with me."
She gave Brenda a hesitant look and then turned back to me, not sure what to do.
Brenda ran her hand up the inside of Lisa's thigh, lightly touching her pussy, and whispered in her ear, "Let's see how wet you two can make me."
I danced over and took Lisa by the hand. Pulling her off the couch, I brought her to the middle of the room and started dancing beside her. She caught on quickly, and it was obvious she had a little slut in her too. Soon she was rubbing up against me, teasing me with her ass and sliding her hands seductively over her body and down between her legs. I could tell Brenda was thoroughly enjoying our little game. Lisa was definitely aroused; I could smell her pussy, and it drove me crazy.
The song ended, and a slow song started. Lisa took a step toward the couch as if she was going to sit down when I grabbed her hand and pulled her back. "Want to drive Brenda crazy?" I said. "Let's see how sexy we can slow dance together." I turned her around so she faced my sister and pushed my crotch against her ass, pressing my tits into her back. Moving my pelvis in a slow, sexy motion, I placed my hands on her hips and guided her in sync with me. Lisa quickly followed my lead, and we moved over to dance just a few feet in front of Brenda. My sister already had her legs spread and was masturbating, her eyes glued to the spot between Lisa's legs.
The music was perfect: slow and steamy. I felt Lisa reach behind and start rubbing my hips and thighs. She slid one hand down between my legs and played with my bush while she used her other to stroke herself. Then she closed her eyes and let her head drift back to rest on my shoulder. I kissed her neck and ear, whispering how fantastic her body felt against me. "Do you like it too?" I asked.
"I love it," she answered, never opening her eyes.
Her finger found my slit, and I trembled at her touch. I lightly pulled her chin around, and our lips met. I slid my tongue into her mouth. She tasted so warm and sweet!
We kissed as I felt her finger slide easily into my wet hole. Then Lisa let out a heavy moan. I looked down to see Brenda on her knees, her head buried in the little girl's crotch. My hands went up and cupped Lisa's breasts, and I closed my mouth over hers, exploring the inside with my tongue. It was all I could do to keep from falling, I was so aroused.
Finally, I led her to the couch and laid on my back, pulling her down on me. She kissed me passionately, her tongue in my mouth. I pulled her knees up, spreading her open for my sister. Brenda lay between my legs and sank her face into Lisa's ass while she fingered me. I ran my hands all over Lisa's body, trying to taste and touch as much of her as I could.
I was dying to eat her, but I let Brenda have the first taste. I could tell from their moans that both girls were really getting off.
Lisa's hips ground into me, and her breathing became heavy. Suddenly she let out a gasp, and her body stiffened. I continued kissing her face and neck as the orgasm washed over her. She lay on me, breathless, covered in sweat, her eyes closed.
"God, I never felt anything like that before," she said after a few moments.
"Just the first of many, my sweet little lover," I whispered to her.
Brenda moved up and lay beside us, kissing me then Lisa. Our mouths were close, and the three of us kissed together. I could taste Lisa's juice on my sister's mouth; it was intoxicating. I had to have Lisa or I was going to explode.
"Trade places, sweetheart," I said to her. She moved over, and let me up. As I worked my way down the couch, Brenda got up on her knees and straddled Lisa's face. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Brenda's legs, pulling my sister down to her eager mouth. At the same time, I lay between Lisa's legs and spread her little-girl cunt open with my fingers. Then I put my hands under her ass, pushed her legs up, and brought my mouth down on her. The sensation of tasting this delicious twelve-year-old was almost more than I could take. I ran my tongue up and down her slit, trying to taste her pussy and lick her ass all at once.I raised up to see Brenda, her head thrown back, eyes closed, her fingers caressing her nipples in a deep sexual trance as Lisa moved her tongue in and out of my sister. Lisa was totally ours now, her body completely overcome with the forbidden pleasures of girl sex.
We climaxed together and finally lay back on the couch. Our bodies were covered in sweat, our faces and cunts dripping with girl-cum. The room was filled with the smell of wet pussies.
After resting for a few minutes, Brenda said, "I'm going for a hot shower. Want to join me?"
"Sounds nice," Lisa said.
We each took her by the hand and headed up the stairs. | 2 |
4,788 | Waiting for Orchidea | "Hmm... It feels so good... I just started shitting in my panties... Hmm... so nice... so hot... I feel so filthy... Hmm... Hmm... What a long stinker..."
At the other end of the line, Orchidea had just started to leak brown in her panties.
"Oh god... Hmm."
Excited she sure was, her voice betrayed it... Such a splendid vessel carrying such vile words, such unladylike dialogues... It was the paradoxical beauty of it all... Orchidea... What a soiled, impure yet splendid flower she was.
"Are you full, are you gonna shit a lot?"
"Fuck yes... I'm rubbing spit on my big shit-bloated belly... It's all swollen and packed tight with that magic shit... Hmm... Full of that stinky love cream... Fuck... It's starting to slide up along my cunt... Hmm... Wish you were there to fucking tongue me."
"Come over now, I can't wait anymore... I wanna see you and smell you, I want you to stink up the whole place again... You coming now?"
"Yeah... I'll be at your place in half an hour... If I don't stop to rub myself too often in the car, hahaha... Hmm... Before I go..."
A few seconds of silence, and then I heard the muffled sound of a gush of bowel wind... Her hot, light and airy gift that unfortunately only my ear could enjoy at that moment... The shit in the seat of her panties must have given it that unusual sound... I loved brown ear candy...
"I wish you could smell it... Hmm... Dear... Okay, see you!"
It took me almost a minute to stop caressing my cock and hang up the phone, comfortably trapped as I was in the mind-fucking trance that our conversations always threw me in...
Orchidea had the way with potty talk. Everyone knew her as an articulate and polite young woman whose speech was always decent, but I was the lucky witness to her love of dirty talk. She adored verbal filth and knew how to turn me on with raw, obscene and vulgar talk that paradoxically made her so hot in my eyes.
She was a pretty orchid outside, but indoors she changed into one of those giant jungle flowers whose gigantic size was only matched by the gigantic stench they gave off. And we both loved that!
Just like the flies in those jungles, I was irresistibly drawn to her vile smelly ways, because she took so much pleasure in them, because it made her the most desirable woman I could imagine. With total abandon and carelessness, she everyday went from being an odorless flower to a 5'11" tall, pear-shaped goddess whose essence was found in her anal folds... her anal folds which weren't hidden much, always exposed, always on her mind.
The shit-eating fly I was, how thrilled I was to worm my tongue into her all her smiling, carefree, loose, open gift-giving mouths... Oh! I loved the kiss of her filthy lips as she vomited shit-induced moans and fart-stained syllables!I'd French-kiss her, our lips and tongues lubricated brown. I'd let the enema drool out of my mouth into hers.
"RING!"
I leaped out of my erotic daydreaming. Someone was at the door, downstairs.
I went to the videophone and turned it on. The woman at the door was lustfully wiggling her tongue at the mini camera. She moved back so I could see more of her, and I loved what I saw: She was tall, almost 5'11", and her revealing clothes couldn't hide her wonderfully feminine curves. Her hair was long, dark, and slightly wavy. The coarse black and white image was good enough to show that she was very good-looking. A good-looking woman who was now removing her skirt, stripping down to her panties! Some panties that were obviously filled with a not-too-subtle smelling cream! She pointed her ass to the camera: what a wonder! Large, round yet muscular, with her tight undies struggling to contain both her wonderful globes of flesh and the creamy contents they had given birth to!
Was she going to get into the elevator like that? Of course, she was going to! Silly me... I knew she loved to show off, and getting caught almost naked with panties full of waste was the kind of risk-taking that made her wet!
"Are you gonna open that door for me, you goof?" she said, laughing. "I'm freezing my butt and my shit out here!"
"I told you not to do this. What if someone sees you like that? Anyway, I'm so glad you're here! Come in... everything is ready... hehe."
I pressed the black button to open the door downstairs.
I wasn't waiting for Orchidea anymore... she was there.
The end (so far...)
brownkisser
Latrine People Foundation | 1 |
4,808 | "Ten" by LeAnna | "Definite ten."
"No way! You're shitting me. Look at her -- sure, she's got a nice face, but the legs are waaaaaay too short."
"Look at her breasts." I nudged Nick none too gently. "Look at how they jump up, and gently slope down. Perky."
He frowned, squinting his eyes, and shifted in the metal bench. "I like them round."
"Hers aren't round? No, no, look at this one..."
His gaze followed mine, and he whistled appreciatively. "Now, those are round breasts. Perfectly proportionate in all directions. Don't jut out too far in the front. The sides jut out too."
I leaned close to Nick and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "Want to know how you can tell if a chick's got breast implants?"
His interest piqued, he tore his gaze off of the lady passing by and looked at me. "How?"
"The breasts are too round" -- I pointed to the lady -- "just like that."
"That's not true," he protested, punching me lightly on the shoulder.
I grinned maniacally. "Pamela Anderson."
"Like you've seen Pamela Anderson's tits."
"Everybody's seen Pamela Anderson's tits. That's not the point here. Breasts are supposed to be sort of triangles."
"Yeah, but look at the tits here. Silicone footballs jutting out of the chicks' chests."
"And you love it, don't you?"
"Nah." He stared off into the distance, squinting his eyes a bit. "I'm not into it, really, the whole fake-chest thing. The girls around here..."
"If you don't like fake breasts, why do you like the ones that look fake then?"
Caught in his argument, he shrugged. I prodded further.
"What kind of tits do you like?"
He broke his stare off from the distance and his eyes followed my curves, resting on my own mounds of flesh. I nudged him in the side, giggling. "Stop that, now."
He stared unashamedly, a smile teasing the edge of his lips, and he nudged me back, his elbow pushing into the side of my breast none too subtly. I sat closer to him and leaned my head against his shoulder.
We fell into a silence and sat for a while, observing passers-by going into the bar one by one. I took a drink of the vodka bottle I held in my hand and passed it to Nick, who took a healthy swig, winced, and passed it back. After a few moments, I spoke up again.
"Look at her."
He looked. "Too skinny."
"Her legs, man. They're longer than I am," I remarked, half-enviously and half-appreciatively. He noticed the jealous tone in my voice and nudged me.
"Yours aren't bad, either."
I grinned devilishly. "I'm not drunk enough, hon. Back to the subject. The more leg a woman has, the better to ride you with."
He nodded in agreement. "True, true. Has anybody ever told you that you think like a man?"
"What? Do you mind?"
"Not at all, Lee. Not at all."
"Good." I slitted my eyes in fake menace, just to let him know his place. Half the vodka bottle was gone now, and I was feeling rather slippery-footed and loose-tongued. I smiled, and lay back against the bench, and we continued watching people disappear into the bar, one by one. The bouncer would give us the evil eye every once in a while, but since we'd bought the bottle in the bar, he didn't say anything. We sat, growing bored and drunk.
She walked by in a simple black dress that flowed gracefully around her body, the hem ending right above her knees. Like the woman before her, her legs were achingly long and smooth. My mouth watered. Nick's jaw dropped. Her face was beautiful because it was simple. No makeup, just a speckling of freckles across her ski-jump nose atop her porcelain-pale skin. Soft red hair that shone in the moonlight. Lips that weren't too full or too thin yet still curved and pouted and jutted. Her breasts curved up and sloped down -- the perfect pair of breasts, as I had commented earlier to Nick. He didn't seem to mind that they weren't round, as his eyes were eagerly traveling up and down her figure. Her legs shot up forever and finally met her ass, cheeks tight and yet still round enough to make her dress swish obediently behind her.
"My god." The words slipped out in a slurred whisper. I was in awe. Nick looked over at me, and clutched his heart, thumping at it. I nudged and poked him in the side. "Go ahead. Do it."
He jumped. "Huh? What?"
"Hurry! She's getting away!"
"Ma'am! Miss!" Nick called out to her, waving his hand in the air, and she turned to face us. My heart skipped a beat and my pulse pounded in my ears when her gaze rested upon me. She frowned and pointed to herself. "Yes, you, ma'am," Nick called again, motioning her to come over. She jaunted toward us, walking with a spring in her step. I couldn't tear my gaze off of her body. Her stomach was perfect, flat with a slight womanly bulge.
"Can I help you people?"
Nick nodded, gazing up at her. He smiled gently. And then the dumbest thing popped out of his mouth.
"That's a pretty dress."
She looked down, self-conscious. "Thank you."
"I bet it'd look pretty on the floor next to my bed."
Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed, her hand flew out and smacked Nick on the cheek with a resounding POP! I fell over laughing, and she gave me a dirty look, "hmmph"ing right before she turned around and walked away into the bar, her ass wiggling with the most delightful indignation. My laughter echoed off of the streets, and Nick sat there with the most pitiful look he could muster. He couldn't last long with the morose expression, and started laughing along with me. Finally, we eased back into the routine of boredom.
"Nick?"
"What?"
"Do you use that on all the little ladies?"
"So what if I do? Next time you try pickin' her up."
I giggled and shook my head. "Here." I handed him the bottle. "Loosen up." I let my gaze drift to the street. The night air sounded with the music and general pandemonium of the bar inside. When there was a break in the music the twittering chirp of crickets could be heard, and truth be told, I found the crickets more endearing to me. The air was crisp and fresh, a rarity in the city, and moist with night air. I slipped my feet out of my heels and put it down on the grass, letting the wet, dew-kissed grass slip between my toes and tickle the arch of my foot. I counted the cars as they thundered by. A blue Grand Am. A white Cavalier. A black Corvette. A red Ford pickup.
The bottle was almost empty. A covert glance at Nick told me that he was quickly getting drunk, his eyes glassy and his mouth spread wide in a grin. He told me the same of myself, and I only laughed, though the world felt as if it were spinning. He put his hand on my knee, and I shivered as the electricity crackled between us.
"Still not drunk enough, dear," I intoned, my voice laced with possibility.
"Damn," he intoned, his voice laced with laughter. He slipped his hand up closer to my thighs. "You know, I don't really believe you. I think you want me."
"Maybe. Buy me another bottle of this shit, will you?"
"With what money? Should I sell my body?"
His hand crept closer and closer to my thighs, creeping along as slowly as a snail trudging along a sidewalk on a hot, simmering day.
"Well, bother, I mean, don't" --
His fingertip grazed the vertex of my shorts.
We sat there, as if nothing were going on, even though strangers passing by would gaze at us curiously. I gave them a slow, easy smile and occasionally shouted out comments to them that usually made them blush and turn away, leaving us to our playing. I relaxed back on the bench, and my retorts to their stares quickly turned into obnoxious comments shouted at the women, who usually started walking faster. A fleeting half-thought came to my mind that I would regret it in the morning, but the thought would usually shoot like a bullet out of the distance before I fully realized it. So I let my obnoxious, dark side take over.
"Hey babe! Nice ass!" "Look at 'em tits juggle, boy!" "Wouldn't I love those legs wrapped around me!"
My voice was becoming gravelly, and I'd forget a letter or a word here and slur a few letters together there.Only one woman didn't start walking faster in eagerness to escape our scathing comments. The redhead. Instead, she turned to stare at us, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. I giggled, and Nick slid his fingers underneath the hem of my shorts. She stared for a few moments, her eyes slitted, and then walked slowly and deliberately to us. Her eyes were flashing. She stood there for a few moments, and there was a small crowd gathering, hooting and hollering.
"Get 'em, lady!" "Kick ass!" "Show that bastard!"
Her hand shot out...
And slapped Nick squarely on the cheek. His eyes widened in surprise as a matching welt started to develop opposite the one she'd given him earlier. "You just can't get enough, can you, you sick pervert?"
I stood up. "Hey, miss, leave 'im alone! It was me that said 'I'd love them legs wrapped around me.'"
She looked at me only then, her stare deep and piercing. Her furrowed brow eased, and her eyes relaxed. She looked back and forth at us, her head snapping side to side in confusion, and finally, her gaze rested upon mine. I could feel my cheeks turning red as I stood before her like a dog with its tail between its legs. Finally, her scowl turned into a relaxed thin-lipped expression, and slowly developed into a smile. She started to chuckle, then snicker, and then bellow out her raucous laughter. I was silent with surprise, and then my own guilty expression started to loosen into a smile, and I laughed along with her. Nick gazed up at us, his hand on his cheek, looking at us as if we had suddenly gone insane. A smile played on the edge of his lip, dancing for a moment before he joined us in our laughter.
Her eyes bore into my own. They were a piercing shade of green, so much different from the softness of her skin and features and hair. I felt myself falling into her gaze, and tried to slow my descent with little success. Her voice lowered, and she moved closer to me.
"So you like my legs, huh?"
I blushed, embarrassment hitting me with the sudden speed of a train. I expected a slap at any moment. "Yes. I do."
"What did you say you'd like to see them do?"
My guard started to slip down a bit, but I still kept my hands at my side, twitching with nervousness.
"Wrap around my thighs, ma'am."
She laughed, her head tilting back with the breezy sound. "Is that all?"
I hesitated, feeling very much like a little boy who'd been caught with a Playboy. Only I was a woman, so very close to another woman. I could feel her breath caressing my face as she exhaled. Smelled wonderful - she hadn't eaten in a bit, so it didn't smell over-minted or spicy. Natural. There was a hint of perfume lingering about her, and it drifted over to me in tiny little waves. My breathing quickened.
"No, ma'am, that's not all."
"What else would you like to do to me?" All menace was gone from her expression, and her eyes smoldered. My guard let loose completely and clattered to the ground with a resounding bang.
"Lick and suck you until you scream, ma'am."
"Denise. I'm not ma'am, I'm Denise. Who are you?"
"Lee."
She leaned close to me, and I could smell her coconut perfume strongly now. Her lips grazed mine gently, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation. The kiss deepened, and she pressed her body closer to mine. I could feel the curves I'd so admired earlier touching mine. Her lips were soft and sweet, and pressed urgently against mine. Her mouth opened a tiny bit, and my tongue slowly moved between the crack.
Finally, we parted, and I opened my eyes to see her green eyes looking back at mine. Her breath was hot and quick. Her nipples were visible through the fabric, and when she glanced down at my chest, I knew mine were also. I tore my gaze hesitatingly from her to Nick. His eyes were as round as saucers as he stared at us intently, and his lips were slightly parted. I could tell he was breathing hard. Denise put her hand on my waist, and I grinned at him before returning my attention to Denise.
"Lee."
"Denise."
"I'll forgive you for that comment on one condition."
I grinned evilly. "What condition is that?"
"That you come with me. You and your" - she gestured to Nick - "companion. To my apartment."
All trace of feeling like a guilty puppy faded away. She wanted me. Nothing to be guilty about. When I shot a quick glance at Nick, I could see the same thoughts that coursed through my mind course through his.
Her fingers squeezed on my waist. I couldn't refuse. Her arm wrapped around my waist, and I beckoned Nick to follow. He looked at me a little suspiciously, wondering if another slap would come pummeling at him, but after some contemplation as to tonight's activities, he leapt up eagerly and trailed behind us like a puppy anxious for his treat. A few minutes and a bumpy car ride later, we arrived at her apartment. We thundered up three flights of stairs. Denise panted, "I don't get enough exercise."
"Get an elevator."
"We can get there quicker if we run," she replied with a grin. We reached the landing for her floor, and as we walked toward her apartment, she looked at Nick. "You okay?"
He smiled at her. "I'll live." He rubbed his cheeks, gesturing to her his red welts.
She snickered. "If you can live through what me and Denise are going to do to you, you can live through anything." Her voice was teasing and made me shiver with its sexual annotations. The low, throaty tone made me moisten significantly. The lock clicked, and the door swung open, revealing a classy apartment that was tastefully furnished. White, shimmering curtains hung over the sliding door that led to the balcony. An entertainment system to be envied, with a large screen television and speakers that reached to my thighs in height. There was a desk with a small laptop situated in the middle of it, and to the left of the desk was a small, black leather loveseat. A bar that had a champagne bottle with an unfinished glass lingering on it separated the kitchen from the living room.
She led us to her bedroom, giving an obligatory tour on the way, pointing toward the bathroom and talking a mile a minute about her apartment. "It's real small, but I'm living by myself, so it does the job for me. Besides, it is rather cozy in here. Thick walls, too. I hardly ever get bothered by the neighbors."
"Or bother the neighbors," Nick mused in a tone so low it was almost as if it wasn't meant for her to hear. She looked at him again, and he grinned at her. His face seemed to beam with sunshine every time she focused her attention on me. I nudged him, and his eyes shot to me. I winked, and he took the opportunity to slap Denise lightly on her ass.
I giggled. "Hey Denise, we better teach him a lesson. Seems that he's getting too fond of my girl."
"Yup," she muttered absently, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. She opened the bedroom door. Inside of this room was a huge king-sized bed with a bedspread ornamented with roses and sprigs. A bedside table was off to the side of it. A large, plush, black leather armchair sat by it, tilted toward the bed. Denise headed straight for the bedside table, rummaging through it and murmuring to herself. I stood awkwardly, and Nick patted me on the bottom, his fingers caressing the inward curve of my cheeks. I jumped in surprise and winked at him. Finally, Denise found what she wanted and held it out proudly.
Rope. Handcuffs. Denise and I slowly directed our menacing gazes to Nick, who started backing away. "Me? No, not... No!"
"Let's do it," I whispered to Denise, nudging her.
She sauntered up to him, and I moved my hand quickly to his cock that was bulging through his jeans. I moved behind him, gripping hold of the bulge in his jeans, feeling it for a moment before I undid the zipper and slipped my hand in to meet his hot, hard skin. Denise started to kiss him, the wet sounds of their osculating echoing through the air. She slipped the handcuffs to me, him unaware of what was going on. I pulled his hand back to my breast, and he obediently started to massage the flesh and tease my hard nipple. He moved his other arm awkwardly back to feel my other breast, his elbow's joint cracking with protest. Denise caught my eye over his shoulder, and I nodded. She slapped the cuffs over his wrists and clicked them shut.
He jerked his hands apart against the metal reflexively, and I stood back to admire my handiwork. I moved to the front of his body, and Denise stood behind me, her hands reaching around to run along my stomach and cup my breasts. Her fingers rubbed and tweaked and tugged my nipple, and I arched my chest into her hands in response. I slowly got to my knees, and Denise descended with me. I leaned forward to lick the bulging head of his cock, my fingers playing with his testes. One of Denise's hands strayed to my pussy, popping open the button and pulling down the zipper of my shorts. I took his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue about it. He groaned and tilted his head back. His eyes were shut with concentration.
"Now." Denise whispered into my ear, and I nodded, understanding. She handed me one of her pieces of rope, and slowly, silently moved away from me and stood behind him, bending to her knees, ready to catch the rope. With the speed of a cat, I wound the rope around his ankles as tightly as I could. He stumbled, shouting protest, and Denise jumped up to catch him around the waist, her hand forming a fist around the base of his cock. I lifted him up by the feet, and she carried him by the waist. We dragged him over to the armchair and propped him up in it. My, it did look comfortable. My, did he look uncomfortable. His cock stood straight out from his pants like a flagpole. The head of his penis was an angry scarlet. If I didn't know better, I'd say that being tied up turned him on."What are you ladies planning on doing?" His expression had melted from angry to devilish. We didn't answer. Denise turned to me, and I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her close for a deep kiss. Her lips were warm and inviting. Her tongue was wet and slippery as they worked between my lips. I ached for her, and my hands slipped down to cup her breasts. They were every bit as firm and imposing as I'd dreamt them to be. I squeezed the nipples experimentally, and she deepened the kiss, her mound pressing against me. We worked our way to the bed and fell on it, kissing and touching and feeling. We rolled over again and again, back and forth, kissing. Finally, we landed with myself on top and her on the bottom. She let her hand stray to my groin and undid the zipper. She slipped her fingers into the band of my panties, and my skin jumped at the cool touch. She giggled and scrunched down, pushing up my shirt and pulling down my shorts. I squirmed, helping her take them off, and kicked them off to the other side of the room. They landed on Nick's right armrest, and I giggled, pulling my shirt up and tossing it over to him too. I could see his cock surging with excitement, jumping and bobbing comically. His expression was somewhere between ecstasy and pain.
Her mouth found my stomach, and I groaned, writhing beneath her hot lips. I wove my hands into her silky hair and watched her kiss and nibble my belly, working closer and closer to the gold. Her lips traveled downward. With every millimeter, my excitement soared. Sweat appeared on my face in tiny droplets. My body was on fire, and she was closer and closer to quenching the flames. Her tongue traveled along my hairless mound. Tease. Lick. Tickle. She nibbled my thighs. I tilted my head back, my mouth wide open in a moan, eyes squeezed shut. My clit! She sucked it gently, with a maddening rhythm, and her finger suddenly went deep inside me. She tilted me higher and higher. Finally, when she took my clit between her teeth and nibbled, I couldn't handle it anymore and screamed my pleasure out loud, pulling her tightly to me, gasping and grunting as my body shook with orgasm. Finally, my limbs relaxed, one by one, and I let out a trailing moan as if bidding my orgasm farewell.
Her head popped up, and she grinned broadly.
"Did you like that?" Her voice was low and sexy.
"God, yes."
We sat there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. Finally, I turned my head to Nick. Poor guy! Precum was running down his angry red cock in rivulets, and he was thrusting it in empty air. It throbbed and pulsed constantly. Denise followed my gaze and laughed when she saw him.
"Please! I can't take much more!" His face was desperate. I gave Denise a sly grin, and sat up, pulling her dress up over her head. She put her arms around me to unsnap my bra while I tugged at her panties. She wriggled out of them obediently, and her bra soon followed the growing pile of clothes. Both completely nude, we got up off of the bed and stood proudly before Nick. His cock jumped. I went around the back of the armchair and gripped him just below the shoulders, pulling him up by his armpits while Denise pulled up his legs. We dropped him down onto the bed.
"Will you take off my handcuffs?"
"Mmmm. No. But we'll undo your leg binds." Denise's voice was low and teasing. I undid the buttons of his shirt and ran my hand along his muscular skin, whistling appreciatively. Denise undid the rope around his leg, and I put a pillow underneath his head to make him more comfortable. I dropped my head down to Nick's ear and whispered,
"Are you about to come?"
He nodded.
"Hmmm." I mounted him, my legs spread just below his cock. His cock surged again. I touched the tip of my clit to the base of his cock, reveling in the warm skin. Denise moved past me and sat on his face towards me, her ass positioned over his eyes, and he promptly opened his mouth and started to lick her. I moved my clit against his cock a few times before lifting up my body and setting it down on him.
"Oh, god," I whispered wetly. "Feels so... mmmm... big and hard..."
"Oh god," Denise moaned. "Work that tongue, baby."
I worked up and down his cock, shivering and moaning every time he bottomed out in my pussy. I felt so full and satiated. He felt delicious inside me. I gave a tiny gasp, feeling his rigid cock as he thrust it. He moaned into Denise's pussy, and Denise tilted her head back as she rode his face. He thrust his hips up harder, faster, slamming into me with all the strength he had, until he exploded with a groan and a hard thrust. He came and came and came. I felt it shoot inside me, and I felt my pussy grow slipperier with his cum. I squirmed with pleasure and kept riding him, pushing my hips back and forth, until I was pushed over the edge again. The fall wasn't as long and hard this time, but I still shouted and groaned, my orgasm stretching on forever.
"BITE MY CLIT!" Denise squealed, her hips undulating rapidly on him. "Oh, god, yes, harder! I'm going to come!" A guttural groan rose up from her throat and let loose, and her body shaking as she bucked faster on him. I was bucking on him, too, his cock thrusting in and out, and I could only imagine the strength we were sapping out of the poor guy, both sitting on him. I tilted my head back and moaned, my hands reaching out to caress her nipples. She still bucked back and forth on him, her delicate face beaded with sweat, and I could tell she was close to another orgasm. My hand dropped down to her clit, and I massaged it, back and forth, up and down, around and around. Nick's tongue was going crazy, brushing against me occasionally. I could hear the suction of his lips on her clit and sense the flickering and nibbling that was driving her insane.
"Oh, my god, I'm COMING!" her moans were even louder now, and she was bucking on him so hard that his neck would probably hurt in the morning. His cock twitched inside me, jumping with every thrust she made. I felt her clit tremble against my finger as I instigated another orgasm from Denise. She groaned and bit her lip, her body stiffening. She shook her head from side to side, eyes clenched tight in orgasm, and from deep within her throat, squeals of pleasure escaped. Finally, she collapsed, her muscles relaxing. I leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, and we kissed for a while. I let her taste the tinge of her cum that remained on my tongue. Finally, we got up off of Nick and undid his handcuffs. He pulled his arms apart, and I collapsed in the crook of one arm, snuggling against his body, exhausted. Denise did the same, and we slipped off into a deep, satisfied sleep, holding each other. | 1 |
4,835 | Equal Opportunity | "How did the interviews go?" asked Kathy, unbuttoning her blouse. Sitting on their bed, Jeff looked up, still lost in thought. "Did you find someone to help you?"
"Nope," he said, watching calmly as his wife unclasped her bra. "Tomorrow will be looking at four more applicants." Caught boyishly by the sight of Kathy's naked breasts, Jeff smiled slightly.
"That's too bad," she said, dropping her pants. "I thought you sounded hopeful this morning." Kathy tickled her faint brown muff and turned to step into the bathroom. Jeff watched his wife's bottom shake, always ready to appreciate her sensual charms.
"I was," he called out. "She looked good on paper, but it wouldn't have worked out." The water began to run, and Jeff heaved a deep sigh.
Two weeks had passed since he had finagled the Morgan case away from Epstein, and Jeff couldn't help but lament the days they'd wasted. It was beginning to seem impossible to find assistants who could help handle the convoluted legalisms that plagued the Morgan situation. With the booming economy, competition for skilled help offered them a shallow pool of applicants. This morning, finally, Jeff really thought the search was over.
He'd been sitting at his desk, reading over her resume again, trying to find an excuse not to hire this one on sight. Most applicants hadn't even been close; Jeff had turned away twenty. The work was starting to back up on him, but Jeff reminded himself each morning that bad help was worse than no help. The summer before, he'd been severely burned by the assistant Jack had hired for him, and Jeff didn't want that kind of trouble again. He'd spent six weeks undoing the mess Ben had made, three weeks more than it probably would have taken to just do the job by himself. Jeff scowled, adamant he would not go through that again.
But when Jeff read through the list of this applicant's qualifications again, he found constant reassurance in each well-chosen word. "Maybe," he thought, still afraid to be hopeful, "we can actually start to get some work done today."
Jeff took a deep breath when the intercom gave a familiar buzz, and Stacy said, "Beth Carter to see you, Mr. Walters." Jeff reached for the white button.
"Thanks, Stacy. Send her in."
Jeff started to stand as the young woman stepped into the doorway, but felt his knees weaken when she came full into view. Jeff's eyes opened wide, and he put a hand on his desk to help raise himself up.
"Mr. Walters?" she asked. Her voice sang pleasantly.
"Jeff," he said. His voice faltered. "Please, come in." He looked back down at the resume. "Elizabeth?"
"Beth Carter," she said, reaching forward in greeting. Jeff shook her soft hand lightly.
"Please," he said, already drifting down into his chair. "Have a seat."
Beth smiled and smoothed her plum suit skirt over her lean thigh with an elegance that pleased Jeff. "She'd give the team a real touch of class," he thought, imagining the impact such a smart-looking woman would have by his side when he met with the field group.
"I brought some writing samples," she said, opening a leather folder and withdrawing several sheets of paper.
"Good," Jeff said, reaching over the desk to take the documents. Looking up from the well-crafted prose, he caught the anxious stare of her bright blue gaze. A rush of heat invigorated his heartbeat.
"This is excellent," he said, reacting honestly as he deliberately read another paragraph. Jeff looked up at the woman and saw a faint blush color her soft cheeks.
"Thank you," Beth said. "I wrote those when I worked for Myer and Baker."
"Right," Jeff said, pulling out her resume again. "They're a good firm. Can I ask you why you left?"
"They weren't challenging me," Beth said, seriously. Jeff could imagine her speaking with such insistence to someone like Jenkins or even Bradford. "I mean, I have nothing against the paperwork and such, that's just part of the business, but they seemed to shy away from tackling real problems. I want to work hard and have something to be proud of when I'm done."
Jeff nodded knowingly, recognizing with delight his own attitude. He smiled wryly. "What makes you think a job here will be any different than the one you had with Don Myers?"
"That's why I applied for this position. Frankly, Mr. Walters, I could probably find a higher paying job over at someplace like Witherspoon Gaddis, but I'm not looking to play a social, client shmoozing role. Not yet, anyway. From what I've seen of your work, and of you, I believe I can find what I'm looking for here."
"Challenges?"
"You're getting ready to handle the Morgan case, aren't you?"
"Yes," said Jeff.
"You're going to fight it, aren't you?"
"Well, I'm not at liberty. . . ."
"If you aren't going to fight," Beth said sternly, "then please don't hire me. I want to put on the gloves and get in the ring with that one. If you're just going to file settlements, I can get that somewhere else."
Jeff leaned forward, excited by her fire. "Good," he said emphatically. "I like your attitude, Miss Carter." Without thinking, he noticed the absence of a ring on her left hand's fourth finger. "It would mean hard work, and probably some long hours, at least for the next few months."
"I'm hoping it would," she said, smiling, flush with enthusiasm. As she leaned forward, Jeff noticed the gold cross at her breastbone, and then a glimpse of the untanned curve just beneath the edge of her blouse. He swallowed deliberately.
"Evenings, some weekends," he said, his throat dry. He picked up the glass of water on his desk and, as he took a sip, he remembered the long evenings he had spent working with Ben. He remembered the proximity of his assistant as they pored over the figures for some indicia of intent, Ben's head almost on his shoulder, the dull scent of the young man's cologne irritating him immeasurably as the nights wore on.
Jeff put the glass down and looked at Beth. She nodded and smiled. Her breasts weren't big, but they had substance. Jeff imagined the way they would press against his arm as she leaned over to show him some passage that needed explanation. Beth pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, and Jeff could almost smell the delectable aroma.
"We'll probably have to take two or three trips to Atlanta this spring, and there's a chance we'd have to spend a few weeks in Oregon."
"I know," Beth said. "I know what the work is like. At this point, Mr. Walters. . ."
"Jeff," he said quietly, smiling.
"Jeff," she repeated with an indulgent grin, "at this point, I want to log some miles and put in the hours. My life is relatively free of commitments right now, and I want to put this time to good use. I don't know, maybe it's hard to believe, but I want to get my hands dirty working in the field. I'm not saying this to get a job. I can get a job. I just happen to know where I stand right now. I imagine there will be a day when I want something less taxing. But for now, I'm a young woman. I want the chance to learn from people who know and also to prove what I'm made of."
Jeff nodded. He imagined for a brief moment the first week in February, when they'd go to Atlanta. He imagined carrying his suitcase into the hotel. He remembered the trip with Ben to Montreal, sitting at the hotel table most of the night getting ready for the meeting at Lystar. Jeff cleared his throat.
"Well, Miss Carter," he began.
"Beth," she corrected with a friendly laugh.
"Everything looks good," he said. "I'm going to have to talk this over with Jack, I think they told me you met him already."
"Sure," she said.
"But we should be in touch with you soon." Jeff stood and held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you," he said.
"Likewise," Beth said, standing and touching his hand with hers.
Sitting on his bed, Jeff trembled slightly as he remembered watching the young woman leave his office, leering at the way her skirt moved when she walked.
"What's the matter, Hon?" Kathy asked, toweling off her hair.
"Nothing," said Jeff. "I'm just not sure I did the right thing."
"About?"
"Well, the woman I interviewed was probably as good as I'm going to get, and I can't help wishing I could have hired her."
"Why didn't you?" Kathy asked, sitting down on the bed.
"I don't know," said Jeff. "I think it was because she's a woman." Kathy hit her husband on the leg.
"That doesn't sound like you, Jeff," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"I know. I could even get in trouble, I mean, if she filed an EEO complaint, I'd have a hard time explaining. She was really well qualified."
"Then why didn't you hire her?""Kathy," he said, his voice implying his reasons, "if you'd seen her, you'd understand."
"Oh," said Kathy, catching hold of his unspoken thought. "Well, then, I'm proud of you." She smiled gaily and crawled up the bed. "You're a good husband," she said, teasing the stiffening member shrouded within his pajamas. Jeff sighed.
"Lead me not into temptation," he said softly. Kathy extracted his prick from its confines and kissed the round knob atop the hard staff. Her tongue played along his pale cockskin.
"You'll find someone," she promised, tickling Jeff's balls as she let the rod descend into her mouth. Bringing it back out, she looked up at her husband. "Are you going to get in trouble?"
"I don't think so," Jeff said. "I told Jack I couldn't work with her and he said he could take care of it."
"Jack will take care of it," Kathy echoed, suckling down her good husband's dick.
"Yeah," Jeff said, closing his eyes, "that's the way."
"Look, Jeff," Jack had said later that day, "I looked over her resume and I think you're nuts. Beth is really too good to let get away and she really wants to work with us. So I hope you don't mind, but I hired her as my assistant. I'll let her get started on the Morgan case while you keep looking for another hand. She won't be reporting to you, so you don't have to worry about that. She'll sit at Louise's old desk, and you can start briefing her tomorrow after your interviews are finished." Jack smacked him on the back. "And don't worry. I told her you recommended her for the senior assistant position and threw in another five grand. I think she's worth it."
Jeff felt the stroke of Kathy's tongue down his prick, but his thoughts filled with mad visions of Beth's bright smiling eyes and her tits and her ass and her lean, stockinged legs and the sweet subtle fragrance as Beth bent down close to help him understand the operative fucking rule.
Each day and each evening, sitting ten yards past his door and always in sight and Atlanta still waiting just a few weeks away.
"Oh, God," Jeff moaned as he thrust his prick up and felt his hot fountain erupt in spurts of wild lust. Kathy eagerly drank the thick wanton flow. As his wife smiled, licking her lips, Jeff shuddered and silently groaned, "please help me." | 1 |
4,845 | Friends and Lovers | "It's so funny!" Kathy exclaimed as she poked lightly at Cal's erect cock. It bobbed away slightly at her touch before springing back into position like a pendulum.
"All right!" Cal protested. "You've seen it! You promised to show me yours."
"Just a minute," she said, sounding slightly annoyed as she stared at the strange protrusion with great intensity, as if memorizing every last detail. She reached her hand around and grasped it, applying a light but firm pressure.
"Ohh!" Cal exclaimed, bending over slightly.
"Did it hurt?" Kathy asked worriedly as she withdrew her hand.
"No," Cal said. "It felt kinda good, but your hands are awful cold."
Kathy frowned and rubbed her hands together, blowing on them as well. The texture of his cock in her hands had been unique, hard yet somehow soft at the same time, all while being very, very alive. She lowered her hand again to his penis and grasped it again. "Better?" She asked.
"Yea," Cal answered, his voice quivering slightly, his eyes wide as saucers.
Standing almost nose to nose with him, her hand wrapped around his cock, Kathy leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. If her hands had not been wrapped around his cock, if the feelings and sensations he was feeling for the very first time had not been completely overwhelming him, Cal would have protested strongly at the "mushy stuff". But the kiss was a new dimension to the new sensations, and rather than pull back, he leaned forward, pursuing the touch, much to Kathy's surprise.
She had known Cal all her life, since he was her neighbor and all. They waited for the school bus almost every day. Sometimes she even joined in his silly games. As they had grown older, she had often wondered what it would be like to kiss him, like the people she saw kissing in the movies. Kissing hadn't been on Cal's mind when he agreed to let her lure him into the woods, but it had been on hers.
She pulled back from the closed-mouth kiss when Cal began to move in her hand. "What are you doing?" She asked.
Cal blushed. "I don't know. I just started doing it. It feels really, really good!"
Kathy frowned again in thought and then moved her hand up and down a little. "Like that? That feels good?"
Cal gasped. "Yes!"
"Hmmm," Kathy hummed thoughtfully. "And the kiss? Did you like the kiss?"
"Yes," Cal admitted with another gasp, since she had continued to move her hand up and down, dragging the foreskin up and around his swollen glans.
"Good," Kathy said, sounding very pleased with herself. "I liked it too."
"Don't stop," Cal pleaded as she unwrapped her hand. The devastation on his face was so clear it was almost comical.
"Oh. I thought you wanted to see mine," Kathy answered. It had been fun kissing him and holding his privates, but she felt he would let her do that all day long, and while the kiss was nice, it wasn't as earth-shattering to her as it apparently was to him.
Indecision rocked Cal's world. Kathy's touch had built pleasure on top of pleasure, and it felt like it had all been leading somewhere. He desperately wanted that touch again. But at the same time, he was curious to know just how boys differed from girls. It was the reason he had asked her out here in the first place. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and disappointment rang in his voice as he said, "Oh, OK."
She hitched her fingers into her pants and then paused, giving him a stern look. "Remember, you promised," she said, reminding him that he had sworn to keep everything secret.
"I remember," Cal said, slightly impatiently.
She pushed down, in one fell swoop lowering pants and panties. She looked cautiously up at Cal, and noted with a sense of rising panic the look of disbelieving amusement on his face. Cal scooted around behind her, circling once before standing in front of her again.
"It looks like a butt," Cal declared.
Kathy blushed furiously, but anger also reared up its head, and she bent down to grab her pants, fully intending to pull them back up, storm back home, and put an end to all this foolishness.
"You promised," Cal said quickly, reminding her that they had promised to let each other get a full measure of the differences. Kathy sighed and stood up straight again. "What do you pee with?" Cal asked.
She pulled back her outer lips, revealing a staggeringly complex pink landscape within. "Here," she said, her finger poised above the opening. Cal fell to his knees to get a close-up view. There was something fascinating about what he was seeing that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Is touching it nice?" Cal asked. "Like when you touched me?"
"I've never tried before," Kathy answered. "Except to clean myself, and I never noticed anything special about that."
Cal considered touching her, like she had touched him, but the daunting creases and folds confused him. Finally, he stood up. "I don't see why it's such a big deal. Adults are weird."
Relieved, Kathy pulled up her pants. "Yea. It was kinda nice actually," she admitted as Cal retrieved his shorts.
"Hey. Wanna go find Gary and see if he's up for a game of Robin Hood? You can be Maid Marian."
"Thanks, but I've got some homework to do."
"Maybe tomorrow then."
"Maybe."
-!-
"Hey Kathy," Cal said after they had stepped off the bus, his voice cracking in the first stages of puberty.
"Hey Cal," Kathy goofed back at him.
"Remember that time in the woods where, well, you know," Cal said hesitantly.
"What about it?" Kathy asked.
"Well, I found this book, and it had some ideas. I thought maybe it would be fun to try," Cal fumbled.
Kathy thought a moment. "Why don't you bring me the book, and if I like what it says, maybe we'll try."
"I can't!" Cal exclaimed.Calming himself, he explained, "It's in my parents' room. I could only sneak a few looks at it. If it turned up missing, they'd have my hide. You know how parents are."
"Well, what did it say?" Kathy asked.
Cal sneaked a glance up and down the street to make sure no one was around. "A lot of things. Remember how I hang out and you have a hole?" Kathy nodded. "Well, I'm supposed to put my thing in your hole." Kathy's face was a mixture of incredulity as Cal continued. "Really. It's supposed to be a real trip, but we can't do that 'cause that's how babies are made."
"So, what's to try?" Kathy asked, trying to find the point her squeaky-voiced friend was making.
"Well, the book said a lot about sucking," Cal said, studying the ground quite intently.
"Sucking?" Kathy asked, almost with a laugh and louder than she had intended.
"Shh!" Cal scolded. "Yeah. Well, the book says it's really intense if someone puts their mouth down there."
"Calvin Conner, if you expect me to put your thing in my mouth, we'd better just cart you off to the loony bin right now. You PEE with that thing! That is SO gross!" Kathy said in a low voice, but with a tone that definitely conveyed how grossed out she was.
"Look, you don't have to do anything to me," Cal said quickly, trying to calm her down. "I'll try on you. If you don't like it, we'll stop, but the book says you'll like it, a lot."
"I don't know," Kathy said, sounding a little unsure of herself.
"Come on," Cal coaxed with a lopsided grin. "Last time we did it, it was fun."
"That was a year ago," she reminded him. "We were just kids then."
"So?" Cal asked, failing to see the relevance.
Kathy thought a moment. "Can we practice kissing first?" Kathy asked. "Lynn said she kissed a boy who used his tongue, and she made it sound really fine!"
Cal smiled broadly. "Sure!" He agreed readily, as the book which he had been reading whenever he could sneak it away had a whole chapter devoted to kissing.
They sat in a clearing in the woods behind Kathy's house, leaning up against the base of a large oak tree, exploring the pleasures of the kiss. At first, it had been but a gentle meeting of their lips. Then Cal had pressed his tongue forward, hesitantly parting her lips. When his tongue met hers, and she hesitantly responded to the meeting, it was intense beyond belief, and his arms embraced her unconsciously, drawing her closer. She responded to this by wrapping her arms around him.
"Wow," Kathy said as she pulled back, gasping slightly for breath.
"Yeah," Cal agreed with a weak smile on his face.
"You sure you want to do this?" Kathy asked uncertainly.
It took Cal a second to realize that she had moved on to the next reason for their being there. "Sure," Cal answered.
Kathy shrugged and pulled down her pants, wincing as she rested down into the dry, scratchy grasses. She was about to move to stand up when she saw Cal maneuvering between her legs, crawling towards her. Something in the way he moved, what he was about to do, fired her imagination, and she ignored the discomfort. Cal wasted no time, and she suddenly felt his warm tongue run through her lips. The sensation was utterly pleasant, but was nothing compared to what she felt when his hands parted her, and his tongue began to dance and stroke the most intimate parts of her.
"Ohhh," she moaned, arching her neck and back as she let the waves of pleasure roll through her.
Cal lifted his head and smiled. "You like?" he asked, knowing full well the answer. He had never heard a sound like that in his life, but something told him it was not a bad one.
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Don't stop!"
"You'll show me what it's like?" Cal asked slyly, sensing his favorable bargaining position.
"Yes," Kathy agreed, angry at him for stopping, angry at him for forcing her to agree.
Cal smiled smugly and then returned to his kisses. As Kathy grew more vocal, he discovered the erect knob that seemed to be the focal point of her pleasures. The book had mentioned it, but there really weren't any illustrations, so he discovered the clitoris by her reactions. After a while, she started panting and moaning loudly and thrashed under him. He was a little worried about the noise she was making, but the book had made quite a point that he should not stop at this point, so he didn't.
When she had settled down and was fondly running her fingers through his hair, he raised up. "How was it?"
"Perfect," she said distantly. The look on her face was completely unreadable.
"Payback time," Cal said.
"Payback time?" Kathy said. "You lift me up to touch heaven itself, then spoil it all with one crass remark. Boys!" Cal was thrown completely off balance by the vehemence of her words. Seeing the confusion on his face, Kathy's expression softened, and she said softly, "Next time, try to say something more gentle. And now, I guess we can see if it's as good for you as it was for me."
Cal's face brightened considerably as he quickly pulled down his shorts and settled down onto the grass while Kathy dressed. Finally, she knelt down beside him, noting how it had grown since the last time she had seen it. She grasped it as she had done before and heard his breath catch, a slight tremor rippling through his body. Bracing herself, unable to really believe she was really doing this, she closed her eyes and lowered her head.
The taste that greeted her was just slightly salty and not strong or unpleasant. The texture of hard yet fleshy was also pleasant. She could not take him all in, but she could take most of it. Remembering how he liked motion, she began to move her head, drawing it in and out of her mouth, letting it roll past her tongue. Calvin helped her by telling her when she did something he really liked, like letting her tongue play around his glans, and what he didn't like when her teeth fell too sharply against his cock.
She was disturbed when she felt his hands around her head, pulling her into him, sometimes too far. But when she resisted, his touch lightened, and she allowed his lighter touch to set her pace, a pace which he seemed to need quickened more and more. Suddenly, he gasped deeply and pulled her head hard into her, causing her to gag as his cock pushed against the back of her throat. She felt something warm and sticky and pulled back hard. He resisted, but she managed to pull free in time for a second spurt of his seed to land square on her cheek.
She stared at him, the warm, bitter, salty taste in her mouth, the thick white goo sliding down her cheek. She watched his intense expression as his cock twitched and shot even more milky white liquid onto his shirt. Finally, he exhaled deeply and looked up at her. Frowning when he saw the liquid on her cheek, remembering that in the throes of ecstasy, he had felt something leave him.
"Oh God! I'm so sorry, Kathy. I didn't know!" he said.
She wiped the liquid off her cheek and stared at it, rolling her tongue around her mouth to clear out the taste of the stuff he had shot inside her. "What is it?" She asked finally.
"I think it's sperm," Cal answered. "The book said that kids don't have it, but grown-up men shoot it when they climax. That's what the book called it, 'shoot it.' It goes into the woman and makes her pregnant."
"Did you like it?" Kathy asked.
"Oh man! It was fantastic!" Cal said enthusiastically. "It was kinda a letdown when you stopped, but it was great!"
"Well, next time, maybe you can warn me, and I'll just use my hand," Kathy said.
Cal smiled broadly as he stood and pulled up his pants. He was already looking forward to the next time.
"Cal," Kathy said as they rested in each other's arms under a hot August sun. "We're moving."
"Moving?" Cal asked, a thick knot of dread welling up in his stomach.
"Dad got a promotion. My parents have a nice house picked out, but it's all the way across town. We won't even be in the same school!"
"No," Cal said futilely. "There's got to be a way."
"There isn't. They're putting up the For Sale sign tomorrow," Kathy said, the pain on her own face as deep and profound as on Cal's.
Cal stared at the pretty girl across the restaurant, trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. There was something about the way her blue eyes flashed, something about the way she kept brushing her brown hair out of her eyes. She noticed his stares and would meet his gaze for a moment before turning back to laugh with her girlfriend.
"Cal," David said, pushing Cal's shoulder to get his attention. "What's up? She's pretty, yes, but I doubt Jenny will be thrilled to find you ogling other girls."
"Sorry," Cal said, turning back to his friend. "Something about her is familiar. I think I know her, but I can't really put a name to her face."
"Well, I suppose there's no harm in asking," David said.
"No," Cal said resolutely. "No harm at all." He walked over to the table and waited until she acknowledged him with a glance. "I'm sorry for staring, but I think I might know you. I'm Calvin Conner."
"Cal?" The girl said excitedly. "I'm Kathy! God! I didn't even recognize you! Last time I saw you, you were a squeaky-voiced little boy. And now, look at you!" She said, the words coming in a rush as she bounded up to hug him.
He returned the hug and pushed her back at arm's length to look at her. "Look at you!" He said. "You're absolutely beautiful!"
She blushed and smiled at him, basking in the happiness of finding a long-lost friend. Suddenly, she remembered her manners. "Cal, this is Carol. Carol, this is Calvin Conner, a very old friend."
Carol smiled and shook his hand. "Take my seat, Calvin," Carol insisted."I have to be running along anyway, and it looks like you two are going to reminisce a while."
"Thanks," Calvin said as he sat down.
Kathy leaned forward and said, "So tell me EVERYTHING," she insisted.
Cal laughed. "Not much to say, really. I finished school and got accepted at State. I'm in my final year now, I'm just visiting friends and family for the holidays."
"What's your major?" Kathy asked, leering so he'd catch the oft-used pickup line in the question.
Cal laughed again. "Business, with a minor in English. And what have you been doing since your parents so evilly thwarted our plans?"
"About the same. Finished school, I'm attending the city college now. I plan to be a teacher and get my certificate after I graduate," she answered. "How's the love life?"
He winked. "If you mean have I found anyone like you, the answer is no. But I've looked. I've been going steady with a girl almost a year now. She's fun, exciting, interesting, and all that other mushy stuff. You?"
"I'm seeing a guy pretty regularly, he's nice and cares for me, but the sex is pretty boring. I usually have a private party the next day if he actually manages to get me off. I actually had two last month, I guess he's getting better."
The pause that followed was pregnant with anticipation as they stared at each other, memorizing the interesting new features of each other's face. "You've really grown up to be quite a looker," Cal said.
Kathy smiled, the blush creeping back onto her cheeks. "And you the stud. Do you work out?"
"Intramural football. There's a little weight training on the side," Cal answered.
Kathy ran her finger around the rim of her glass, staring at the table as she asked, "You wouldn't be interested in maybe, well, for old times' sake, maybe--" She let the thought linger.
"Your condom or mine," Calvin grinned.
Kathy laughed. "Oh, Cal! Didn't you remember ANYTHING I told you about the right words at the right time?"
"Oh, that's right, I should have said: 'I am a lowly slave to your radiant beauty. Ask, and I shall move a mountain so that you may better see the sunset. Ask, and I shall roll back the sea so that you may look for shells. Ask, and I will plant my lips upon thee and count myself most fortunate among all men.'" It had started as a joke, but somewhere in the middle, his voice grew serious and his eyes longing.
Kathy felt herself panting under the heat and intensity of his words and gaze. She had to shake herself free before replying. "Yes. Something exactly like that."
"David," Cal said.
"Come again?" Kathy asked, confused.
"I forgot the friend I was with! I'll be right back," Cal said.
"Oh. The guy you were with. Go on, but don't keep me waiting too long. I might change my mind. We girls are fickle, you know," Kathy said mischievously.
"Don't touch that dial!" Cal warned. "I'll be right back!"
"Let me guess," David said after Cal returned. "You don't need a ride home."
"That obvious, huh?" Cal asked.
"You were fawning all over each other the moment the other girl left. You'd have to be blind not to see something between you. Go on, have fun," David said, making a shooing motion with his hand.
"You're a real pal, Dave," Cal said. "See ya tomorrow." Then, glancing back at Kathy, added, "Well, maybe not tomorrow."
David leaned over and punched Cal in the arm. "Bud, with a girl like that, maybe not next year."
Calvin and Kathy made it as far as her Toyota before falling into a passionate embrace. The kiss didn't even start out tenderly, it went straight from passionate to aggressive as they rediscovered the comfortable road they had traveled that one magical summer so long ago. Cal lifted her up so she sat on the trunk of her car, and she wrapped her legs around him as they kissed. His hips ground against hers as they both responded to the naked desire that consumed them.
"Where are we going?" Calvin asked, his chest heaving.
"I've got an apartment, it's about twenty minutes away. I just drove down here to meet Carol on her lunch break. She works afternoons and evenings," Kathy replied, pulling him into another kiss.
"Hmm," Calvin hummed, pulling back after a while. "Do you see that posh-looking hotel over to your left? I'd be willing to bet they've got a really nice room somewhere. Unless you really want to wait a half-hour or so before I ravish you."
She grinned wickedly. "You're doing all right so far."
"Yes," he said as he touched his forehead to hers. "But the elderly couple a few cars down have been staring at us like they wanted to go grab a hose or something."
Kathy turned her head and saw the gray-haired couple staring at them indignantly a few cars down. "They're just jealous," she giggled. "If they watch, they deserve what they see."
"Still, the wind's a bit nippy," Cal said. "And just think of all the fun we could have in a nice big bed, maybe a nice bottle of champagne on ice." He rolled his head playfully from side to side.
She kicked her heels and squealed in delight. "You talked me into it. Your visa or mine?"
"Mine, of course, silly," Calvin scolded. "Something's a guy's just gotta do."
"Oh," Kathy smiled. "A gentleman."
"My momma, my pappa, and a very dear friend raised me proper," Cal agreed.
She slapped him on his butt playfully as she hopped down. On impulse, she glanced back at the disapproving couple and stuck out her tongue impishly at them before sliding behind the wheel. Ten minutes later, they stepped into the honeymoon suite at the ritzy hotel.
"Wow," Kathy said as she took in the opulence of the room. "You musta won a lottery or something."
Cal smiled as he watched her explore the room, noting with pleasure how her hips swayed lightly as she walked. "Just a good job that's paying my way through school and gives me a little spending money on the side."
"Well, it's just perfect. Perfect!" She said as she bounced on the bed.
"Yes, it is," Cal said, admiring her by the door.
She stretched out her arms and smiled, "And what are you waiting for? I believe we started something in the parking lot."
There was a knock on the door as she finished. Cal smiled smoothly and opened the door. He spoke to someone in the hall and turned around as the door closed with a silver tray with a bucket of champagne and two crystal goblets. "Waiting for this," Cal said. "Wouldn't do to get all hot and bothered again and get interrupted." He set the tray on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside her. "Now, where were we?" He asked.
"You were just about to fuck me for the very first time," Kathy said.
"Ah ah!" he replied, wagging his finger at her. "The right words, remember?"
"You were about to sweep me off my feet and make mad passionate love to me," she answered as she fell into his arms.
They broke the ensuing kiss only to hastily remove the layers of clothing that separated them from the union they both needed so much. Sweaters went flying, buttons were ripped, as bit by bit they got closer to that final moment existing only within the touch of each other.
Finally, her exquisite body exposed to his hard, etched form, he thrust into her warm, moist womanhood, feeling it close around him as she lifted her legs up around him. They did not go gentle into that good night, they took as much as they gave; moving fast and furious under the silken sheets. Exploring this thing they had done with others but never each other as if for the first time, drinking in the powerful sensations like the sweetest wine after a long drought. They did not go silent into that good night, their moans of pleasure mingling with each other in a symphony of ecstasy.
When her gasps and moans carried her into orgasm, she dragged him in behind her. His fevered thrusts, struggling to find yet a deeper purchase, met her upraised hips as her fingernails dug into his buttocks with each powerful thrust. When their moment had passed, he lingered inside her. Staring down into her radiant face, his contented, satisfied smile meeting hers, he kissed her lips lightly and said, "You complete me."
"And you still lift me up to touch heaven itself," she replied as he poured the champagne into their glasses.
"This is good stuff!" She said as she took her first sip.
"Only the best," Cal agreed. She frowned into her glass. "What's the matter?"
"It's just not fair," she complained. "Just when you and I start having some serious fun, life tears us apart. In a few days, you'll be back at state with your girlfriend, and I'll be back at city with Steve. And I swear to you I've never had sex like that in my life. Ever. Period."
Cal dipped his finger in his glass and ran the moistened digit across her lips lightly. "Like two ships that pass in the night, or two thieves stealing time and pleasure where they can find it."
She laughed. "You can stop being romantic now, we're both done after all."
"Are we?" Cal asked. "Are you so sure about that?"
"You couldn't possibly. I mean, so soon?" But she only had to glance down to see that they weren't done at all. | 2 |
4,885 | Love Conquers All | "Well, after high school ended, Wanda left for a two-week vacation with her folks. She was an only child, and they wanted her with them. She was not yet eighteen, and she felt that she should go.
After she had been gone for about three days, I began to remember the earlier feelings I had had for Brian. This confused the hell out of me because I was now a confirmed lesbian, wasn't I, and all I should feel for the male race was scorn, right?
Well, after two more days, I realized that I still had feelings for Brian and I at least owed it to myself to give him a last goodbye to reconcile my feelings for him. I knew that Wanda would be back at the end of the next week, and we would be going away together from this town. She had said we should go to San Francisco, at least we'd be accepted a little better there.
Brian knocked on the door at this time. He had Little Lynda with him. They were both smiling. I invited them in. Little Lynda kissed both of her parents, and then went off to the living room to watch TV. Ingrid and Lynda would take turns checking on her. Lynda left to get her settled, and we told Brian what Lynda had been telling us and where she had left off.
Brian picked up from there:
"When I saw Lynda that night, it was the first time I talked with her for almost two years. I was in tears at seeing her, because I knew she was only here to tell me goodbye. Wanda had been bragging to the other girls that Lynda and her were going to get married by a lesbian priest and move to San Francisco. At least, I hoped she would let me kiss her goodbye."
Lynda came back in the room. "She's OK, watching Looney Tunes. We'll be OK for at least an hour."
I asked Brian how he'd found out about Wanda's plans if she had only told other girls.
"She has a large mean streak. She deliberately told girls that she knew would blab it and in front of the whole school."
Lynda by this time was furious again. She continued.
"Deliberate cruelty is something I abhor. To see her tell the whole school our plans, instigated one of our most bitter fights. As usual, I caved in to her and told her it was my fault for overreacting."
I vaguely remember this scene, but this was during the time I had been with Ingrid, and Wanda was not on my mind as much.
Lynda continued: "At this time, the last thing I wanted to do was kiss him goodbye - he was a man, the enemy! However, Brian had other ideas, thank God!"
Brian said "I kissed her when I opened the door and held it as long as I could, in the hope that maybe it would stir something."
Lynda: "Amazing how something as simple as a kiss can seem so right, but after the kiss, instead of screaming and yelling and running out of there like I thought would, I stood my ground and I actually asked Brian for another one."
Brian: "I was dumbfounded - I almost didn't kiss her again because I didn't believe what I was hearing. But never let it be said that I can't think in a crisis. I kissed her fully this time, wrapping my arms around her because I did not want to let her go."
I interjected here: "I think I can figure out Lynda's reaction to the first kiss."
Lynda and Brian (and Ingrid, I guess) both wanted to know what I thought.
"Remember when I told you about hypnosis? Well, the farther away the subject is from the hypnotist, the weaker the hypnosis becomes. That is why a good hypnotist is constantly reinforcing the hypnosis. When Wanda left, and I am sure she did not want to leave, the hypnosis had a small chance to wear off. Brian, when you kissed Lynda the first time, it reactivated her love for you, the second kiss should just have reinforced it more. Did it, Lynda?"
"Did it ever, I was back in love with Brian again, and I began to feel a hatred for Wanda. I did not understand it then, but I think I do now. As long as Wanda was around, I avoided Brian because Wanda had told me to, because it would just hurt him, and I did not really want to hurt him, did I. Thinking it over now, I can see how stupid that was - Brian loved me, not seeing me at all would hurt him more than us just remaining friends."
Brian spoke: "I could never have remained just friends with you, Lynda, I love you too much, it would have killed me."
Lynda: "I know, it would have done the same for me. Anyway, to continue the story, two days later, we made love for the first time in his house. His parents were both home, but they were beaming and as happy as I had ever seen them. They even knew we were meant to be together. Why couldn't I see it sooner?" She was in tears, and so was Ingrid.
Brian picked up again. "When we finally made love for the first time, I was on Cloud 9 and I was as happy as I had been in nearly five years, until I realized that Lynda was leaving in less than a week and I would never see her again. That just rebroke my heart over again. I started crying and Lynda got mad."
Lynda: "I thought he was rejecting me and I was furious with myself for letting myself fall in love again. I had the good sense to ask why he was crying, though."
Brian: "I told her the truth, that she was leaving in less than a week and I would never see her again, and I couldn't take it. I did not want to lose you again."
Lynda: "You wouldn't have lost me. When I heard Brian's words, I knew I couldn't go with Wanda. I was not yet ready to believe that I did not love Wanda, but I also knew I could not leave Brian, that would have made me very sad."
"The next few days, we began to rediscover each other and I began to understand that I did not really love Wanda, but I was not sure I loved Brian enough to break away from her."
Brian: "I tried my best to show Lynda how much I really cared for her and I tried to be fair with her about her feelings for Wanda. But I had always hated the bitch, and I couldn't talk to anybody about it. The only other two people I was close to - Lynda and Geo were both in love with her. How could I make you see what she really was?"
I spoke: "Now I know why she made me love her. I had not really understood that before, but now it makes sense. Brian, you only really had two people that you could really trust other than Lynda, me and Ingrid, and Ingrid had left for Denmark the previous month. Wanda had to make me love her, otherwise we would have figured out what she was really up to. Boy, it feels really rotten to be used and get absolutely nothing out of it but heartbreak and pain."
I turned to Ingrid: "Honey, if I had realized what Wanda was up to back then, I would have proposed to you before you left for home. I would not have been able to bear being apart from you."
Ingrid started crying, and said through her tears "I loved you from the first night we were together. When you let me go back home, I was crushed. I could not understand why you let me go. That is why when I heard from Lynda that you had settled back in town, I took the instructor's job here in town - to see if I could get back together with the one man I had loved. When you saw me and did not recognize me (but your cock did), I thought it was a lost cause, until you called my name - I could hear in your voice that you still cared. I could also see that you still loved Wanda, and I was afraid that you still loved her more than you loved me."
Wow - for Ingrid that was like a graduation speech, she never said that many words at once. Now it was my and Ingrid's turn to be comforted by Brian and Lynda.
When I could speak again: "Ingrid, darling, to be perfectly honest, at that moment I did love Wanda more than you, until we kissed, and then Wanda did not seem so pretty anymore. I guess strong emotions can cancel out the hypnosis. As the night went on and I began to hear what Wanda was really like, the only feelings I had left for her are the ones I have now - extreme hatred. I fell back in love with you before that night was over."
Ingrid and I must have kissed for five minutes.I happened to look at Lynda and Brian, and they were doing the same thing.
Lynda left to check on Little Lynda, and soon returned.
Ingrid asked them to continue their reunite story.
Chapter Ten
********************************************************************
Lynda: "Wanda came back and immediately knew something was wrong. I tried to hide it and lie, but she knew that I had rediscovered Brian, and she was furious with me, and she was even more furious with Brian."
Brian: "She called me up that night and called me every name in the book and a few I had never heard before. She said that I hope you enjoyed fucking Lynda, because I was never going to see her again. She then hung up. The next day, both her and Lynda were gone."
That surprised both Ingrid and me. I asked: "Gone? I thought you would not have been able to leave, Lynda."
Lynda: "When she came back, she must have reapplied the hypnosis even stronger, because I completely forgot about Brian again, but at least this time, I no longer hated the male race. I guess she did not think it necessary to reapply that. Thank God, she did or I would still be living with her in San Francisco and a four-year-old girl and a soon-to-be-born baby would have never happened." As it was, though, because I could now tolerate the male race, I began to notice a few things about myself that I had not noticed or cared about before. One was that I had large boobs and that could get me almost anything I wanted from a man if I played my cards right. Wanda also used this trick too, but it did not work as well, because she could not really stand to get close enough to a man to get what she really wanted."
I chirped in "Take it from a professional boob fancier, I know I would have given you anything you had asked for." I knew this would get a response out of Ingrid, but I was not prepared for Brian and Lynda's responses.
Ingrid pulled up her shirt (she never wore a bra at home -she knew I loved her boobs and she loved showing them off to me) "Are these as good, can I have my Mercedes now" she said giggling.
"Well, what can I sell to get that Mercedes for you dear, hmm - Wait, I don't have to sell anything - look I have a Mercedes for you - I went upstairs and got the Mercedes Gull Wing Matchbox toy car from my collection and made a big deal of presenting it to her.
"Aw, I wanted it in white, honey" laughed Ingrid.
I was prepared - I produced one of those small bottles of model paint and prepared to paint the model white. Ingrid stopped me because she knew I loved my Matchbox collection and did not want me to deface one of my models.
Lynda and Brian were both in hysterics and Brian piped up: "Let's see what was causing all that ruckus in San Francisco, baby"
Now remember that Lynda was pregnant (quite pregnant) at this time and gave Brian a look that would cut diamond, but she pulled up her sweater anyway. Amazingly she was also not wearing a bra, and her big titties just sort of jiggled out. I had never seen Lynda's boobs before (though it was one of my fondest fantasies) and I was staring with my mouth open. Brian, on the other hand, was doing the same staring at Ingrid who had not pulled her top back down yet.
There were two grown men reduced to gibbering idiots and both ladies could stand it no longer and broke out laughing. Ingrid thumped me on the arm (just about hard enough to disturb a flea) and Lynda did the same thing to Brian.
Both ladies redressed themselves (Aw!) and Lynda continued with the story.
"The other thing I had going for me was my pussy. I could turn strong-willed and powerful men into simpering idiots, like Ingrid and I just did here, just by using those two attributes."
Ingrid was still laughing and Brian made the comment that her legs were not too shabby, either. I agreed with him.
"Thanks guys - you really know how to make a fat old lady feel good."
I had to say "Fat old lady, where is there a fat old lady - all I see are two lovely women, one of whom is carrying another wonderful person."
That earned me a kiss from Ingrid, a "You betcha" from Brian, and the most loving smile I have ever seen on a pregnant woman.
Lynda continued: "I am thoroughly ashamed of this now, but I used my body to set Wanda and I up quite comfortably in San Francisco. Since Wanda would never actually fuck a guy, I had to do all the dirty work in that department. I think that is why she did not reapply the hating males hypnosis. About a week after we settled into San Francisco, I met Brian again."
Brian took over: "I knew that I had to see Lynda again, I knew she still loved me, and I had to make her see that again. I asked some friends I knew that were going to San Francisco to try to find Lynda and Wanda for me. It wasn't difficult, they had made quite a name for themselves in both the lesbian and the straight circles. They called at the end of the week and gave me the address where Lynda and Wanda were staying. When I got there, I couldn't believe my eyes - they were staying in the penthouse of one of the swankiest hotels in San Francisco. How did they ever afford that?
Lynda: "It is amazing what pussy will buy. It is also amazing that I was never raped or that Wanda was never attacked."
I offered "Maybe she used hypnosis to ensure your safety."
Lynda: "You are probably right, that did not occur to me. Anyway, I was left a note by Wanda to meet this big spender in his office for a chat. He had promised Wanda that he would move her into her own even larger place, and that he would send a steady stream of girls for her enjoyment."
Brian: "I knew that bitch well enough to know that she could not resist that offer. All I asked in return, was Lynda to myself for a week. I figured that if I couldn't reverse Wanda's hold on her in a week, I had no hope."
Lynda: "I really wanted to do this, because I was starting to like my little escapades with all the men. That should have told me something, but it didn't. How could I be a contented lesbian and still enjoy fucking men? Well, when I first saw Brian, Wanda's programming took over and I began screaming at him. All he did was take me in his arms, with me fighting every step of the way, and kiss me. That caused me to stop fighting, and then he kissed me again. I began to respond to him, but not as would if I was in love with him, but as a girl who wants to get fucked. At that moment, I very much wanted to get fucked, and Brian would do just fine."
Brian: "I began to worry after the second kiss had no real effect other than she looking at me as if to say "Do you want to fuck me?" Actually, no I did not want to fuck her, I wanted to take her home, marry her and then make love to her on our honeymoon."
Lynda: "After a few minutes, the love started to fight the programming and I was in turmoil. I sat down on the nearest couch and looked up at Brian with a lost look on my face. I knew that there was something about him, but I did not know what. Then he kissed me again."
Brian: "The third kiss was like the first kiss back while Wanda was away. I immediately applied the fourth kiss, and I had my Lynda back. A very angry Lynda, I might add."
Lynda: "You're damned right I was angry - I was angry with myself for ever getting hooked up with Wanda again. Brian had finally awakened me to what Wanda truly was. This time I kissed Brian and I used tongue to let him know I was back, and I wouldn't leave this time. I think we were screwing within ten minutes and we must have screwed for an hour.
Brian: "I proposed before the end of day, and she accepted".
Lynda: "I knew that I could not ever see Wanda again, or she would take me back again. I did not know how powerful her hypnosis really was."
Brian: "We left that night, went home and were married within a week. Wanda showed up two days later. Luckily we were on our honeymoon, and we had told our parents not to tell anyone where we were.
Lynda: "Wanda called every place she could think of to try to find us, but we were smart. We were staying in town, right under her nose, in fact. We were staying at Geo's house and his parents were watchdogs for us with regards to Wanda."
This was news to me - my parents had never told me. I was in college at the time. "Why would my parents not tell me? I asked Lynda and Brian.
Brian: "We knew you were still under Wanda's influence and you would lead her right to us."
They were absolutely right, I would have done it without a thought. I had been used again. How could I have ever thought I could love someone so evil? | 4 |
4,895 | rp sex slave chaper 2 | "Are you ready?" I could only nod because my throat was too dry to talk.
Mistress Pamela and I were sitting in my car in front of a small house in Venice Beach. We got out of the car and walked to the door. I walked behind my mistress as her hard tan ass swayed in her skintight leather skirt. It was so tight that it rode up and showed the bottom of her hard ass cheeks. Her long leather boots went up to her firm thighs. The only other item of clothing on her gorgeous body was a leather vest that did not even cover her hard high tits. All I was allowed to wear was my leather cock and ball harness. My prick was red and throbbing as it had been for half an hour.
All the way over was torture in fear that we would be stopped or have an accident. How could I explain to a cop that my mistress made me drive naked at night? She said that slaves were not worthy of hiding their pitiful bodies. Every stoplight was an ordeal of staring straight ahead and not looking at the people next to us. I knew that several people had gotten a look into my car and knew something was odd. A barechested man with a drop-dead blonde in leather would draw some stares.
Thankful that it was a dark street, I hurried to the door as Mistress Pamela knocked on the door. It was opened by a small blonde wearing a chain and leather vest that draped over small tan tits. Below her waist, a leather g-string was pulled up into her crotch. It was so tight that the crease showed. She looked at me and gave a small smile, then turned to Pamela and said "Looks like you have a new subject here."
"Yes, I think that with the right training, we can turn him into something worthy of serving me."
I was grateful that we were finally inside the house but was still very nervous as we walked to a back bedroom with a massage table. On the nightstand next to the table was a tray with the instruments that gave away the purpose of our visit.
"Get on the table," Pamela ordered, and I obeyed. The little blonde, whose name was Arcy, took cotton swabs and rubbed alcohol over my hard nipples. The same treatment was given to my straining cock. She then went to the tray and got the long steel probe.
"This is going to hurt somewhat, but I think you can handle it," Arcy told me as she pushed me back on the table. Pinching my nipple up to a hard knot, she placed the tip of the probe against the skin and gave a sudden push. A jolt of pain that felt like an electric shock went through my body. Quickly she reached over and took a silver stud and pushed it through the new hole in my nipple.
As I caught my breath, Pamela reached down to fondle my balls. "Keep it hard, slave, or you'll get it when we get home."
By now Arcy was on the other side of the table and was bunching up my other nipple. Bracing myself, I felt the burning pain again and the coldness of the stud that followed.
"One more to go, lover," she whispered to me and went to the area below my waist. I noticed her nipples were now pointed and hard. Hanging from the right nipple was a silver miniature handcuff. Her navel held a gold stud.
"I hope you know what you're doing," I told her.
"Relax, stud, look at this," she replied. With a quick motion, she pulled her g-string off and pushed my head to the side. I was staring at a smooth shaven cunt with five silver rings protruding from her puffy, pussy lips. "Now let's get this over, and we can have some fun." Pinching the flesh right below the head of my cock, she took the probe and with a quick motion gave a short push. Actually, this did not feel as bad as the nipples, and the stud was soon in.
"Well done," the mistress said. "Now in a few weeks, he will be perfect." Pamela told the blonde, "You do good work, just like you did to me."
I looked down to see what my now pierced cock looked like. Now that my balls and cock were shaved like Mistress Pamela demanded, the stud was quite visible. I also saw the silver nipple rings that were now a permanent part of my body.
Arcy was putting away her things, and I slid off the table. "You can't do anything for a few weeks, and you have to keep that area sterile." "Here are some pain pills if you need them."
"You won't be much good to me for a while, will you, slave?" asked Pamela.
"Who's going to take care of me now?" my mistress said. "Watching this has really got my pussy dripping."
"Well, Pam, perhaps I can help you," said the blonde. When I saw the look on their faces, I knew that they had enjoyed each other before. Pamela didn't hesitate in removing her vest and unzipping her skirt. They came together, and their tongues snaked into the other's mouth. Hands found their way down to the fine asses in front of me and probed deep. Fingers were pulling and stretching pussy lips, and the smell of sex grew in the room. Their breasts rubbed against each other, and the little handcuffs were pushed and pulled by the breasts. They slid down to the floor and turned in the classic 69 position. Arcy took her hands and pulled open the bare pussy of my mistress before inserting her tongue as far as she could get it. Pamela was lapping at Arcy's hot pussy like a cat at a saucer. Her tongue ran from the clit down to the junction of the ass. The rings in their pussies were also now being tugged by white teeth. It looked like it would hurt, but to them, it was one more way of receiving pleasure. This was some very serious pussy eating, and one inspired the other to go deeper and faster.
In spite of the pain of my new studs, drops of cum were appearing at the slit of my cock. I had my hands on my balls and was stroking the head of my purple organ. As the blonde's tongue snaked out to nibble on Pamela's clit, I could see that even her tongue had not escaped the piercing tool. A silver ball was through the tongue and was now running on Pamela's red and swollen clit.
Both of them now started to moan and cry out.
"Fuck my pussy, eat my pussy," they cried. Their backs were arching, and thighs were flexing as they attempted to fuck the other's tongues and lips. My dick could not take this anymore and began to twitch, and I felt the cum shooting onto my hand.
The action on the floor was now reaching its climax, and the pants and moans came to a head. Both of these pierced ladies slumped against the others' thighs but not without a few final licks of cunt. Pamela looked up at me and smiled.
"Well, slave, did you enjoy that?" "Do you see how pussy should be eaten?" "Maybe next time you can fuck Arcy."
As we walked back to the car, I felt the throbbing in my nipples and dick and was hoped that I was now the property of Mistress Pamela. I wondered how many more trials I had to go through before this would be true. | 4 |
4,900 | Not With My Daughter! | "Brenda, Honey, about last night," Marnie started to say.
"No need, Mom. I am an adult, and I can handle it. Just keep your door closed when you guys are getting kinky, okay? Geesh. It's embarrassing," Brenda said, while fixing herself some breakfast. "So, what did you learn about my portfolio modeling pictures? Jeff was no help."
"Well, I found out Kenneth and Maggie's last name, Brannon, and I know where to find them. I'm meeting them tonight to look the photos over," Marnie told her daughter.
"What time do we go?" Brenda asked presumptively.
"Oh Honey, it is at a bar, they won't let you in. I'll have to get them for you," Marnie said apologetically.
"What time will you be back with them, then?" Brenda asked, put out.
"I'll be back just as soon as I can, Dear," Marnie said, then thought, "I hope they have the sense to also bring Brenda's pictures, she'll be heartbroken if I don't come back with something for her to see. Well, there goes any fun I might have there, I can't stay out too long or it would look suspicious. I feel much better today. I think I could even do it with Roger, or someone tonight. Oh, what are you thinking? What has this come to? How could you be planning ahead to do it with someone else besides your own husband, just like that. You'd better check your priorities and figure out who you are, Missy, before it is too late. Oh, god, how do I turn off these thoughts? I can read it now, 'Pussy Drives Housewife Insane'. I've got to get out of here today, do something different, get my mind off of my next orgasm and get centered."
Marnie ranted in her head. "Maybe I can get together with some of the gals today," Marnie thought as she picked up the phone. "Hi Barb. What are you doing today?"
"Hi, Marnie. I haven't heard much from you lately. I've been meaning to call. There was this party I was supposed to go to today and invite a friend. Well, I was going to invite you, but I've been too chicken to go myself, so I haven't told you about it," her friend on the phone said.
"What kind of party is it?" Marnie quizzed.
"I'm too embarrassed to say, really," her friend said.
"It's me. How can you be too embarrassed to tell me?" Marnie challenged.
"Well, I thought you'd think less of me if I told you I was even thinking of going. It is a party to sell lingerie and things to heat up your marriage. It's the 'Sensual EXtras for You' group, you know, 'SEXY', and I hear they have a pretty daring time at these parties. I just thought it would be too embarrassing for both of us, am I right?" she asked.
"Heat up your marriage, huh," Marnie thought out loud. "What time is it at, I think we should give it a try."
"I can't believe you are saying this. We'll probably have to get naked to try things on. Doesn't that bother you? What if they ask us to try things out? I don't think I can," Barb said incredulously.
"Come on, Barb, it is just us women, right? We've seen each other naked at the club in the locker room. It will be a chance for us to come out of our shells. Face it, we're about to enter our forties, and there is a whole lot of living to do before we're put out to pasture. Now where is it and when?" Marnie said resolutely.
"I'll pick you up at one then. The invitation said there would be swimming, so bring a suit. Are you sure about this?" Barb said.
"I'll be ready at one. Bye."
Marnie busied herself until Barb arrived. She had a suit on under her sun dress and was looking forward to the sales display. When they got to the party, it was at a big house and many more people were in attendance than either of them anticipated. Marnie guessed the SEXY Group was a much bigger pull than the old Tupperware Group, these days. Marnie knew a few of the ladies there, but was the most familiar with Barb. There was mingling, snacking, and exploring the ground floor and pool area for about forty-five minutes before the SEXY people were introduced.
As the tightly scripted presentation got underway, there were a few silly games, designed to get the ladies to lighten up, build camaraderie, and to get into a more carefree state. During an overview of what they could expect, Marnie learned that swimwear, lingerie, marital aids, bondage resources, and, to her shock, body piercing were all available to them today, or on a follow-up basis.
The first presentations were of swimwear. Two models wheeled in a rack of suits and two male lifeguard types brought in a trunk. The two models stayed and the two hunks disappeared into another room, sending the ladies in attendance to shifting in their seats and talking for a moment at the brief presence of the men. The models held up suits to their bodies for the ladies to admire. They took off tops and mixed and matched bottoms right there, without going for cover. They both had small rings in their nipples, which created a stir among the ladies when these adornments were being noticed.
The ladies were instructed to come up and pick out a suit they would like to try. Different sizes were available in the trunks for each style. It looked like a feeding frenzy as the attendees pushed and pawed their way to the different suit combinations. They were instructed to try them on and try them out in the pool. A few of the women, Marnie and Barb included, started to look outside of the room for a place to change, but when they saw that most of the women changed right in the room like the models did, they looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and changed in the back of the room with everyone else. Then it was off to the pool.
Each lady had picked out a suit that was one or more notches more daring than they would imagine wearing in public, to see what it would be like. Ladies wore thongs for the first time, they wore bikinis that were nothing more than three triangle patches, and they wore suits that went from their waist down across their crotch up their abdomen as strings, and with thin patches across their nipples, tying around their necks at the top. They explored how they looked, how it felt, and how they might have to move, sit, and stand if they ever were to wear these items in a public setting. Most of the ladies put a suit aside to buy whether they would ever dare to wear them or not.
Back in the room, the ladies sat in varying stages of undress as the SEXY Group prepared to present the lingerie selections. Barb and Marnie decided to just wear their dresses without anything else on underneath. Barb was less freaked out by this time and began to notice that Marnie didn't have much of a tan line, and asked, "Marn, I notice some fresh color in places the sun isn't supposed to shine. What's up?"
"Oh, you know those tanning salons can do wonders," Marnie replied.
"I could never get anything but a burn from those places, besides aren't you supposed to wear a suit there?" Barb asked.
"They're private, no one knows," Marnie said. "Are you going to get something slinky for George to enjoy?"
"I don't know, are you?" Barb asked.
"Barb, you remind me of me, the old me. I am changing. I've decided to do new more daring things, to seize the moment, make some memories, take some risks, be a little naughty. We aren't getting any younger. My Brenda and your Susan have more daring in each of them than you and I put together. They are probably going to live more in the next ten years than we would for the rest of our lives, if we don't do something about it. We've got to do things we never thought we would do, create some memories we can look back on, joke about, relive in our minds, when our bodies can no longer go along with it. Let's live a little. This here party is a start. What do you say?"Marnie asked enthusiastically.
"Gosh Marn, you're almost scaring me. I hear what you are saying, but I thought we had really good lives. George and Roger love us, we have exceptional kids, and we lead solid moral lives we can be proud of. What you are talking about could shake that up, and then where would we be?" Barb asked concerned.
"Look, this is the kind of experience here, where you can explore and try pushing out your envelope of comfort in safety, and try it on for size. Then if you don't feel like you can handle it, you leave it here, and no regrets. Think about it. I think that number there would look good on you and get Good Old George saluting, what do you think?" Marnie said like a big sister.
"Golly Marnie, I never knew this side of you. I'll give it a try, at least as far as I can." Barb said.
"That's the spirit." Marnie said.
During the lingerie portion of the presentation, the models changed into the different fashions. Ladies from the audience were asked to come up and be models. The audience "ooohed" and "aaahhed", hooted and hollered, and applauded their support for the non-professionals modeling, as well as for the garments themselves. When Barb was picked to go up, she tried to get out of it, until Marnie almost embarrassed her into doing it. Almost everyone was modeling at some point, but not Marnie. She was almost ready to jump up and volunteer. When everyone was wearing some favorite, the presentation moved to marital aids.
The SEXY Group models walked among the audience with dildos, butt plugs, vibrators, lotions that lubricated, heated up, desensitized, or could be eaten, while the presenter with the microphone explained their uses. The presentation moved seamlessly to leather goods. There were costumes the models put on, restraints, whips, straps, and for the men in their lives, out came the lifeguard types, naked except for the straps, collars, chains, and cuffs they adorned. The ladies were shocked, and many started to cover themselves for modesty, until they realized that in sheer numbers, they were anonymous, almost invisible to the men.
Barb and another woman were picked to come up and learn how cock and ball harnesses worked. Barb definitely wanted out of this demonstration, but Marnie physically pushed her forward, and the momentum of her movement and the audience brought her to center stage with the other woman. With instruction from the models, the ladies roughly applied the items. Barb was too embarrassed to look much at what she was feeling. When the harnesses were in place, leashes were attached to rings at the bottom of the ball spreader parts, and the two ladies were encouraged to lead the men through the crowd for a closer look.
When Barb, brought her male model by Marnie, she leaned over and whispered, "Thanks for the push, this really is fun."
Marnie felt a mixture of pride at converting her friend to enjoying herself, but also felt a little left behind. She was passed over for the rest of the leather items, as well.
Then the presenter announced, "Now Ladies, for the newest and latest craze, we at the SEXY Group are now offering body piercing. The most popular place is through the nipples, but our licensed experts can apply jewelry to almost any part of the body. That's right, any part. Now while your imaginations take you places on your body, we have a lucky guest sitting in seat number twenty-three, who will be given a piercing of their choice, complete with the jewelry, right here, so we can demonstrate our patented drug-free, painless process for you today. Everybody look under your seat for your number.
Since most of the women had not anticipated this service even being offered, many didn't even look. Barb looked and didn't have it. She was dying to know what Marnie's number was. "Well, aren't you going to even check?" She said to Marnie. "How daring is it to just check?"
Marnie was shamed into checking. She quickly sat back down.
"Well, let me see that." Barb insisted. She looked. "We have the winner here." She shouted, pointing at Marnie. Marnie tried to wave off the attention. A model came down the aisle to escort her to the front. "Come on." Barb goaded. "Where is that adventuring spirit you were preaching about?"
The lady on the P.A. said, "Congratulations. This is worth, with the jewelry, six hundred dollars." Everyone applauded. When she saw hesitation, "I assure you our process is painless." When there was further hesitation, she said, "You really have nothing to lose, because you can leave the jewelry out and it heals over in a very short period of time."
All eyes were upon her. "Here's a memory. Just think how excited Roger will be when he sees a new thing to play with on you. Live a little while you are still in your thirties girl. This would qualify as a 'little naughty'. Why not practice what you preach." Barb said, pouring it on thickly.
Marnie lost the will to protest, but was not motivated to proceed. Barb pulled her up by the arm and gave her arm to the model who walked her dazed to the front of the room.
"Here, we just have something for you to sign first, and we will demonstrate the painless procedure, exclusive to SEXY Group Productions. Now where would you like to have it done?" Marnie just looked blankly at the M.C. and then at Barb, who looked on with encouragement. "Well, let me recommend your nipples then. You have very beautiful breasts, doesn't she ladies?" There was applause, while Marnie cupped the ends of her breasts, as if they already hurt from piercing. "Here, we'll put these hypoallergenic rings in today, and in a couple of days, you can switch to your choice of ringed or studded jewelry here." Marnie still didn't respond and continued to hold the ends of her breasts. "Well, you can choose your favorites right before you leave today. Now we are going to have you spend a few minutes with Dr. Powers, and then you will return here for the painless procedure."
Marnie was led into another room. The presenter announced to the remaining ladies that the drug-free procedure was a revolutionary form of hypnosis. She explained that when Marnie returned, she would be aware of everything happening, but would feel nothing she didn't want to feel.
Marnie was led back in and was asked to be seated on a stool facing the audience. She sat with her hands together on her lap, her knees together, and her feet on a rung of the stool. She looked nervous, and stared at Barb for support.
Dr. Powers said, "Let's have some fun." Marnie's eyes closed and her head dropped down, but her body stayed upright. Then Dr. Powers said, "Marnie, open your eyes and watch the fun of getting your nipples pierced." Marnie opened her eyes and raised her head a little, but was now looking at her breasts. "Marnie, we will now take off this top." And the teddy nightie she was wearing was pulled off her head. "Now Marnie, it will be best if you keep your nipples erect for this." The crowd watched in awe as her nipples grew out to their maximum size before their eyes.
A lady in a nurse's outfit brought out a tray and placed it next to Marnie on her left side. Then she stood in front of Marnie, effectively blocking the view of her procedure from the curious eyes. Just as the audience began to smell rubbing alcohol, the nurse backed away and Marnie was sitting there staring at pierced nipples with stainless steel rings through them, and a smile on her face.
"Marnie," Dr. Powers was saying, "maybe you'd like to walk around the audience slowly to show off your new rings."
Marnie got up and walked along the front row in her see-through panties from the nightie set, shrugging her shoulders to squeeze her breasts out for everyone to see. There were lots of comments pro and con, but many were admiring her breasts and body as much as the rings. When she got to Barb, Barb was amazed, "Oh my god, you did it. You really did it. I never thought you would go through with it."
Marnie smiled. "Do you like them?" She asked Barb.
"I don't know what to think. My god, I can't believe you really went through with it." She answered.
As Marnie was finishing showing everyone as much as they wanted to see about her piercing, the presentation wound down to the basic shopping and "thank you's" for attending. Two other women had piercings done there and a couple more made appointments for later. Marnie and Susan packed up their goodies, Marnie ended up choosing a ring set with a gemstone threaded through by the ring. Barb kept saying all the way to Marnie's house, that she couldn't believe that Marnie went through with it. By the time Marnie was home, it dawned on her to request, "Please don't say anything to anyone about this, okay?"
"Okay Marn. Wow you sure were brave."
"You need to promise me."
"Okay, I promise. It will be tough. This is juicy, but I value our friendship more, and besides, I owe you. That was one of the most fun times I can remember."
They hugged good bye. "By the way, it didn't hurt a bit." Marnie said, as she started to wave good bye.
Once inside, Marnie headed for the bathroom upstairs to look at her new adornments. She put her packages on the bed and headed for the mirror with the care instructions in hand. When her dress was off, she stared at herself in the mirror. It was as if she were looking at a different person other than herself. "How could this person do something like that? Doesn't it hurt? What does she think others think about it? They sure are curious." Marnie was thinking. "Hey dummy, it's you. You've got to explain this to Roger, maybe someday to Brenda. What kind of example is this for Brenda?" She scolded in her head. "So what's the big deal. How different is it from my pierced ears, really? At any time I can take them out, and no one would ever be the wiser. Why don't you just see what Roger says?"Heck, you can say it is part of your birthday present to him, then if he is grossed out or disappointed in you, you just take them out, and you'll get credit for trying. That's it. That's the ticket." Marnie resolved as she put her things away so they wouldn't be seen accidentally.
"Now, what to wear. I guess a sweatshirt would hide them." She thought as she pulled a sweatshirt on over her head. "Oh, wow, the material inside is way too sensuous for my nipples, as they are right now. I'd better put on a tee shirt first. Whew!" She discovered.
The piercing was a fun little secret to have from her family that evening at dinner. Marnie's arousal was running high, and she needed to change her shorts before heading out to "Shareholders" to meet up with the Brannons. Roger was not too happy about letting her out again for the evening, but relented when she said she would give him a preview of one of her surprises that night.
It was a different experience at the door this time. The doorman recognized her from the night before. She was immediately let in with smiles when she indicated that she was now a member. After signing a register and receiving her ID bracelet for the servers to run her tab on, she found out that the Brannons had not arrived yet. She couldn't remember Bill and Susan's last name, so she was faced with the dilemma of waiting for them in the lobby or going on in and waiting inside.
Marnie waited in the lobby for about fifteen minutes, looking closely at the artwork, furnishings, and appointments. It was a little too tiresome waiting there, so she decided to go on in. She encountered the same locker room attendant as the night before. "Nice to see you again," she said. "Please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist you."
"Thank you," Marnie said. "Do you think there is any hydrogen peroxide I could use?"
"I'll check for you, Ma'am," the attendant said, as she left for the makeup area. "I don't see any, but here is some alcohol, if that would work," she said, handing it to Marnie, then looking at her nipples. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but do those hurt?"
"Oh, these things," Marnie said, trying to act nonchalant, "they haven't hurt at all, but now they are starting to itch," she said with a scrunched-up face, emphasizing the discomfort.
"Maybe that's a sign of healing," the attendant offered.
"Probably so, well I guess I'll go out and wait for the party I am meeting out there. Do you know Maggie Brannon?" Marnie asked.
"Yes, Ma'am, I do. Nice lady."
"I'm meeting her and her husband here tonight. I'd consider it a favor if you'd tell her I'm here when you see her."
"Yes, Ma'am, I sure will. Have a good time," the attendant said as Marnie left the locker room out to the club, waving thanks and goodbye.
This time was different. Aside from the fact that Marnie was walking along the path with reddened nipples with rings attached, she was walking with no particular destination in mind. There was nobody out in the club she knew, and she was a married woman who shouldn't accept advances from other "Shareholders" there. Somehow, this was scarier than the first time the night before.
"What should I do if I'm offered a drink? It will be on my tab. What do I do if somebody invites me to join them before I run into the Brannons?" Marnie worried in her head. "I should sit down in the closest place to the dressing rooms so I don't miss them," she figured.
Marnie walked the path and looked in each alcove to find an unoccupied one, and for one that would have a good viewpoint. The club was fairly busy as she made it to the hot tub spa before finding an appropriate place to set herself down. There were two couples in the tub. Marnie thought it would be very difficult for the Brannons to get past her unnoticed if she were to hang out there, so she sat on the edge and dangled her feet into the water.
One of the ladies worked her way over to Marnie's side to get a better look at her nipple rings. Then the other lady followed suit at her other side. The two men slid around next to their ladies, so Marnie was surrounded by the couples. "Does that hurt?" the lady on her right asked. "I've been thinking about getting it done myself."
"No, the way they did it, it didn't hurt at all. It does itch a bit tonight, though, I just got them done. Do you like them?" Marnie asked.
"Oh yes," both ladies responded in turn. "I think they are very sexy, myself," the lady on her left added. The men nodded and smiled.
Before the conversation could get rolling, a lady server came up with the drink of the evening, Mai Tais. "Please have one on us," the man on her left said.
"No, thank you, I think I'll wait for the rest of my party to show up," Marnie said.
"Please, we insist. You can nurse it until your friends appear, and you can sit with us until they do," the man said again, as he held his wrist band up for the server to take down his ID number.
The server handed her one, and Marnie ended up taking it. Each person took one. Then the man said, "Give her ten for me, if you will, since you are already out of the pool."
Marnie felt a little bit conned. "This is a woman, one of you men should get up here and do her," she thought to herself.
The server stood next to her with her legs spread and eyes closed, waiting for her tip. Marnie turned to look up at her, but all Marnie noticed was a neatly trimmed cunt staring her in the face, from her vantage point.
"We'll opt for the 'dildo option,' Ma'am," the man said, meaning that she still would put a dollar down on his tab for every stroke she received, and she still ran the same risk of wiping the tab clean if she came before the end of the strokes, but instead of being vested in her tip at twenty-five strokes per tab, the 'dildo option' made her vested at fifteen strokes while doubling the tip to two dollars for every stroke.
The server produced the dildo, which was strapped to the bottom of her tray, and started to hand it to the man who called for the option. When he pointed to Marnie, she redirected it to Marnie, put the tray down to her left, and bent forward, sticking her rear and cunt into Marnie's face, waiting.
Marnie had only seen a dildo in the form of a white plastic vibrating massager until earlier today. This one looked like an anatomically correct penis with the front half of a scrotum attached at the base acting as a stop. Beyond this was a handle. To the handle, a tube of K-Y Jelly was attached by a rubber band turned back on itself a couple of times. Marnie took the dildo gingerly in her hands, looked at it as if she had never seen one before, undid the rubber band, and squeezed some K-Y onto the dildo, while the server waited patiently for her tip. Marnie took her left leg out of the pool so she could turn toward her and use the dildo in her right hand. She looked at everyone to be sure she should proceed and put it at the server's cunt lips. She held it there for a couple of seconds, rallying her internal resources to venture into this new territory. The server unconsciously swayed back a little to help it in. Marnie then slid it in slowly and gently. She looked back at everyone for approval and then pulled it out until just the tip was in. Then she heard the quartet say in unison, "One."
She slowly slid it back in and slowly pulled it out a couple of more times, and the lady was starting to sweat in agony over Marnie's slow pace. "Six," "seven," and "eight," Marnie experimented with three quick deep hard ones. The woman started a guttural moan. The man on her left said to the other man, "Bob, how about your tip?"
"I'm in for five."
"Five?" the man on Marnie's left said. "Come on, back up my investment, I think we have a chance here."
"Okay, I'm in for ten."
Encouraged by the group, Marnie tried faster, slow again, with a twisting motion and a wobble. She had the server hopping a couple of times for balance. On the last stroke, Marnie shoved it in hopeful that it would take her over, and left the dildo in for the server to take out herself. It was not to be, this time without upping the tip to fourteen. The server left agonizingly aroused like a slot machine that Marnie and the crowd had been working, and was now ready to pay off with one more dollar put in by the next gambler.
The lady on her right patted her thigh, "You did great. Don't let it get you down if Bob and Will here hadn't been so cheap, you would have cleared our tab for us for sure. Hi, I'm Nancy, this is Melanie. What's your name?"
Marnie thought a moment. "Last night I was introduced as Bonnie."
"It's Bonnie," she said.
"Why don't you slide on in and join us? The water is great," Nancy said.
"I'd better not, thanks. The care instructions on these warn against such a thing for the next several days," Marnie said, as she flipped the rings up and down. "Ooooo, I'd better not do that for a while either. Phew! That was surprisingly painful."
Then Nancy jumped out so she was sitting next to Marnie on the edge of the spa, and said, "Whew. I think maybe I've been in here too long anyway." Then Melanie got out and sat on Marnie's left, saying essentially the same thing.
"Do you mind if I take a closer look at these?" Nancy asked.
"Sure, okay," said Marnie hesitantly.
Nancy put her right hand on the underside of Marnie's breast and turned it toward her. Melanie followed suit after asking Marnie with her eyes. Now Marnie sat with a mildly disgusted expression on her face while two hands lifted and separated her breasts for a close visual examination of her nipples. Will and Bob swam up to in front of her and stood, leaning in, to get a better look see themselves.
"You know, I should just run and check to see if there are any messages left for me by the party I was supposed to meet here tonight," Marnie said, a little uneasy.
"Hurry back."Nancy said as Marnie was leaving.
In the locker room, Marnie asked the attendant how she would be able to check with the front desk for messages. The attendant gave her a "Shareholder's" robe, and Marnie went to the lobby to check at the desk.
Marnie put her arm with the bracelet down on the counter and pulled the sleeve away to show the clerk her ID number. "Are there any messages for me from the Brannons?" she asked.
"Why yes, there is, this just came in for you," the clerk said as she handed Marnie the note.
"Thank you," Marnie said, as she opened it to read, "Sorry we couldn't make it in tonight. Something came up. Gave the proofs to Walter L. Figured you'd be able to find him before meeting up with us. Hope you like the shots. Let me know at this number which ones you want me to produce for you as soon as possible. All our best, Kenneth."
"Do you have a phone I can use?" Marnie asked, nearly panicked.
"Yes, ma'am, right around there."
Marnie called the number on the note. Maggie answered the phone. "No, Kenneth is out for a couple of hours," she said.
"Isn't there some way I can meet with Kenneth instead of Larcher?" Marnie asked pleadingly.
"Probably not before a week. If you need your photos before a week from Saturday, we are going to need to know your selections before then, to be sure we can have them done for you in time. Besides, Walter has the proofs. Kenneth would have to track him down and get them back from him first anyway. Your best bet is to find Walter and make a note of the ones you want done by Roger's party, and call us here with the picture numbers," Maggie explained.
"What about Brenda's shots? Does Walter have them too?" Marnie asked, resigning herself to the dreadful thought of having to go through Larcher to access boudoir photos of herself.
"Yes, I believe Kenneth sent those proofs along as well, figuring Brenda would be pretty anxious to see them. Sorry we couldn't make it tonight. Hope you enjoyed yourself there," Maggie said, and they exchanged closing pleasantries before hanging up.
Marnie showered, got dressed, and hightailed it home. As she walked in the house, Brenda grabbed her and pulled her aside for a private conversation. "Well? Let's see them," she said.
"Honey, the Brannons didn't show. They gave them to Walter to give to us. I'll go downtown and see him at his work, and try to get them tomorrow morning," Marnie said, a little dejected.
"What time will we leave?" Brenda said assertively.
Marnie thought before answering, "If Brenda goes, Larcher will surely leave me alone. That's what I should do from now on."
"How about we leave at 9:00? Now, where's your father?" Marnie asked.
"In the kitchen fixing something," Brenda said, as she bounded cheerfully upstairs to her room.
"Oh dear," she said musically, as she entered the kitchen. "I couldn't interest you in a little preview of one of the things I have planned for your fortieth, could I?" she said, causing Roger to drop his project and get up. "It's early, but still close enough to bedtime to call it a night, don't you think?" she said as he approached her.
"I'm with you, Sweets. Let's go," Roger said, taking her hand and leading the way.
Upstairs in the room, Marnie closed the door with her hands behind her back, facing Roger seductively. "Why don't you take a shower, while I get a few things ready," she said with sex appeal that had Roger scrambling to follow her suggestion.
While Roger showered, Marnie got some of the goods she purchased earlier in the day out in strategic places. She dressed in a black bra and panty set, put on a full-length robe, and laid down on the bed waiting with the robe open enough for one leg to be fully exposed up past her hip. Roger came into the room, saw her thus, and started to moan audibly as he approached to hug and kiss her.
"Settle down, Tiger. If you want a preview, you're going to have to let me be in charge of the presentation. Now, lay down on the bed here," she said as she got up and patted the middle where she wanted him to lay. "Now, for what I am about to show you, I'm sure you're going to be naughty like before, so hands up over your head," she said, smiling at Roger's quick compliance. "We can't have you kicking again, so spread 'em. Hold still, or the preview's off," she said as she climbed all over him to fasten his hands above his head and his feet to the corners of the bed with new leather cuffs on chains.
Marnie's warm legs and the smell of the new leather had Roger's cock twitching up to full salute. Marnie sat straddling his stomach, and took the satiny robe and spread it around her. Then she reached back and rubbed his cock under the robe, sending, otherwise knee-buckling, pleasurable sensations to Roger's midsection. Then she did a slow, sensuous tease of removing her robe, to reveal the black bra and panty set. Roger was getting so excited that Marnie's arousal was steeping.
She removed the panties and backed up to Roger's face, straddling his chest. "Show me that you love me, before I show you one of your surprises," she said as she backed her cunt up to his eager lips.
Marnie held his balls with her fingers of her right hand, hooking her thumb around the base of his cock. As he kissed, sucked, licked, and nuzzled her nether area, she kissed him up and down his cock and around his balls. After she came in a pleasurable orgasm, she took a ball in her mouth and sucked on it as she rolled her tongue around it. This caused Roger to buck against his bonds, so she switched and repeated it with the other one. She sensed that she would be able to tolerate his cock in her at this point, so she moved herself around, facing him, and watched him for a moment as he tried to catch his breath and blink the sweat out of his eyes.
Marnie lowered herself gingerly down onto his cock and sat there momentarily, relieved that she had recovered enough to go this far with him without pain. As she pulled her rear up so that Roger's cock was just barely in at the tip, he took in a big breath and held it, until she lowered herself down slowly and steadily again. Roger let out his breath in a loud uncontrollable torrent as she sunk him deep into her. Roger tried to buck up into her to increase the motion. Marnie couldn't afford to have any motion she didn't have complete control over with him inside her, so she placed her palms down on his upper thighs to control his efforts.
Roger's head was flailing from side to side. Marnie had never seen him agonize toward having his orgasm as much as he was right then. She felt him stiffen, have some telltale lurches, and just before he was about to explode, she reached back and quickly removed her bra. Roger's eyes went wide like two eggs sunny side up, at the sight of her pierced nipples. Then they closed tightly as he shot the first of several spewings deep inside of her.
Before he cruised to the end of his reverie, Marnie was off of him, putting her robe back on. She let his feet free. She pondered the advisability of letting his hands free. Then she decided to loosen the chain so he could bring his arms down somewhat but not enough to feel her breasts, in case he decided to go exploring on her in the night.
Not quite being sure of what he saw, Roger asked, "Could you open that robe of yours again for a second?"
"Now, now, time for naughty boys to get some shuteye," she said, rolling him over on his side so she could spoon him from the rear, playing with his nipples, thinking, "They would have to make pretty small rings to fit on these babies."
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4,919 | Citation | "Damn!" The patrol car's blue and red flashers loomed large in my rearview mirror... I had been caught. I pulled into the parking lot of a large mall simply because traffic on the street was too heavy. I held on to a faint hope the patrol car would keep going, but no luck; it pulled in right behind me.
For the first time, I got a good look at the officer behind the wheel. Auburn hair and hazel eyes... the kind that could melt ice cubes or start fires in other places.
"If I have to get a ticket, at least it will come from a good-looking lady," I muttered out loud.
When she stepped from the patrol car, I received a double surprise - not only did she have a stunning-looking face, but she filled her uniform magnificently! She wasn't petite by any means, but she wasn't an amazon either. She was very shapely and looked like she could handle herself in any situation, from a street brawl to the bedroom. Looking at her walk as she approached my car, I felt that familiar warmth and stirring in the most private parts of my body.
"What the hell, John," I said to myself, "Let's have a little fun." As she approached, I noticed the absence of a wedding ring, something I always look for on good-looking women, not that a wedding ring really makes a difference - the approach is just different. I rolled down my window and waited.
She stood cautiously about three feet from my door. I put both hands on the steering wheel to let her know I meant no harm. I looked up at those deep, hazel eyes with a big grin on my face...
"I hope you realize," I said good-naturedly, "this has completely destroyed any possibility of a meaningful relationship between us."
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, radiating a twinkle that promised a great sense of humor. A wide smile came shortly after, and she hid it with her hand.
"Excuse me," she said in a silky voice that failed to hide the amusement she was feeling. "I'll be right back. Please stay where you are." She returned to her patrol car and got in. I could see her laughing in my rearview, aided by the lights in her car and the lights in the parking lot. Officer K. Edwards had a sense of humor all right; I was determined to test it to the limit.
While she sat in the patrol car, I unzipped my slacks and fished out my semi-hard cock. The mere sight of the way she filled her uniform made me tingle all over... a few sensual strokes, and my cock stood up in my lap like a submarine's periscope looking for something to torpedo. A quick check of the rearview showed me she was returning. Her countenance composed and all business.
"May I have your driver's license, registra... Oh Shit!" She had seen the periscope. I looked deep into her eyes and saw no humor in them. I had carried my little joke too far.
"Sir," she said in a controlled and level tone of voice, "please put your penis back in your pants and step out of the car." Her right hand rested on the handle of the gun at her side.
"I'm sorry, Officer Edwards, I..."
"Do it now." She cut me off sternly, her hand tightening on the gun handle. I knew she meant business. I was sorry I had gone as far as I did and was a little embarrassed and frightened. I stuffed my cock back in my pants as best I could while she watched. I got out of the car.
"Face the car, put your feet apart, lean against the car with your hands on the roof."
"Oh, come on, officer. I was only..."
"Please DO IT, sir."
I was really scared now, and the fear only made my now aching cock even harder. I assumed the position she requested, my heart thudding in my chest, pumping even more blood into my already stiff shaft. She pulled my feet further away from my car with her own, forcing my weight onto my hands, setting me off balance.
Beginning at my ankles, she frisked me, moving slowly upward, first on the outside, then the inside of my legs. When she reached my crotch, she pushed gently upward on my testicles, then moved her hand firmly along the length of my now throbbing cock. I felt a bead of lubricating liquid ooze from the tip.
"I suppose you think this is funny." She seemed just a little out of breath, but her voice still had that silky, sensual tone laced with authority.
"N-no, officer." I was really frightened now. "I can't help it, something about you really turns me on."
Her hand left my cock and continued expertly exploring the upper regions of my body.
"Put your left hand behind you back, please." Her manner was professional and all business. I felt the cold chrome steel of the handcuff close around my wrist. "Now your right hand, please." She finished cuffing me, turned me around, and leaned me against the car.
"Aw, c'mon officer, you're not really going to..."
"Shut up or I'll gag you too!" Her voice was even and low. It had lost that sensual silkiness. She meant what she said.
"You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I couldn't believe I had been so stupid, exposing myself to a cop. She finished Mirandizing me and locked up my car.
"I'm taking you to the station for booking. The charge is indecent exposure." She led me to the patrol car, opened the rear door, and helped me in.
"Shit!" I thought, "Nine o'clock at night and I'm on my way to jail for flashing my cock at a cop!"
She glanced back at me in the rearview mirror from time to time. I couldn't swear to it, but I thought I saw that sparkle in her eyes again...like a predator cat toying with its victim just before the kill.
"Look on the bright side," she said, that silkiness back in her voice, "I'm not going to give you a ticket."
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to forget about my, shall we say, stupidity back there, would you?"
"Not a chance! You're going to pay for this one, mister."
"John," I said weakly. "Listen, I didn't mean any disrespect, Officer Edwards...may I ask you your first name?"
"Sure," she said evenly, "you can ask."
"What is your first name, officer?"
"Patrolwoman Edwards, badge 6973," she said. "Now button it up, creep, we're almost there."
"This is it," I thought. "My life ruined and all because I had to have a little fun...SHIT!"
She pulled the patrol car into the driveway of what looked like a deserted building across the street from the police station.
"Hey," I said, "isn't that the police station across the street?"
"That's the new station, this is the old station. We use the old station as a holding area. You're not getting booked until morning. Give you a chance to cool off."
"But Officer..."
"I told you to button it! One more word and you get a gag...I mean it!" She pulled to a stop at the rear of the building and helped me out. I thought it rather strange there were no lights in the parking lot, and none on in the building. She led me in to the building, her flashlight leading the way.
"Hey, wait a second! Where are you..."
"Shut up!" she said, and took us to the basement and a long row of deserted cells. She stopped in front of one of the cells and removed the handcuffs. I turned around to see the barrel of her revolver aimed at the center of my chest.
"Now back up, slowly, into the cell." The gun barrel didn't waver an inch...I backed in slowly.
"Strip."
"What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "I'm not stripping for you or anyone else. I want to make a phone call."
She cocked the revolver and aimed it lower. "Strip or I'll give you a .38 caliber vasectomy, you son-of-a-bitch."
I stripped down to my undershorts and socks and stood there like an adolescent at his first dance. My hard-on had long since vanished. All I felt now was a slight nausea and weakness in my knees.
"Take it all off," she said evenly. I did as she commanded, first the socks, then, hesitantly, the underwear. I cupped my hands in front of my private parts.
"A little shy?" she asked, smiling. "You were anxious enough to show it to me a little while ago."
"Look, Patrolwoman Edwards," I said weakly, "that was a mistake and I'm sorry."
"Kate," she said with her silky voice, "now lie down on the bunk on your back." Her revolver was still aimed at my shriveled privates. I stretched out on the bunk.
"Here," she said, tossing the handcuffs at me, "put the chain through the bars on the bunk and cuff both hands.""When I had done that, she produced a pair of plastic strip ties and bound my feet, spread eagled, to the foot of the bunk.
She came to the side of the bunk and sat down next to me. She put the barrel of her revolver under my limp cock and lifted it. The coldness of the steel sent shivers through my body.
"Pathetic looking little thing," she said laughing, "what's the matter, stud, can't get it up?"
I moaned in embarrassment. She got up and hung the heavy wool blanket from the other bunk across the cell window, then lit a large candle that had been in the sink. A warm glow of light and eerie shadows filled the cell.
She stood in the center of the cell, put her gun in its holster, and removed the belt. She tossed it on the empty bunk. Slowly, she reached behind her head and did something with her hair. It fell across her shoulders flashing like deep burning embers in the candlelight.
"I'll make you a deal," she said, standing with her legs slightly apart, hands on her hips, "if I'm happy with you in the morning, you go free. If not, you go to jail."
My mouth fell open in astonishment and I could feel the hydraulic system in my loins begin to pump blood into my limp meat. "Huh?" was all I could manage.
"Either that," she purred with that silky voice, "or I take you across the street and book you right now. What'll it be? A night of pleasure or a police record?"
"What do I have to do to make you happy?"
"It's really very simple. Until six tomorrow morning, you are going to be my slave. If you do everything, EVERYTHING I tell you to do, and don't complain about anything...I'll be happy and you'll be free. Fail to comply just once, or complain the slightest bit...and I book you as a pervert. Deal?"
"I-I'll give it a try, Kate. May I call you Kate?"
"You may. Now for the rules. You may make any sounds of passion you wish and as loud as you wish. No one will hear us. You may not touch me unless I give you my permission. I will do with you whatever I please and you will not complain. That's all there is to it."
"O-okay," I said timidly, "I'll try."
She unbuttoned the blouse of her uniform and removed it. Her ample breasts trapped by her bra swelled in the middle like two gently rolling hills. She reached behind her and set them free, tossing her bra on the empty bunk with her blouse. She cupped her breasts, lifting them slightly and looked from them to me.
"Do you like my breasts, slave?"
Frantically trying to remember the rules she had outlined, I replied, "Yes, Kate, they're magnificent." I didn't have to pretend to answer, either...they were truly amazing!
She approached me slowly, still cupping those beautiful globes. When she got to me she leaned over and put one of her erect nipples about a half inch from my lips. My cock had come fully awake now and was standing at attention. I wanted to take that succulent nipple in my mouth...taste its sweetness and nibble on it...my cock began to pulsate.
"May I take your nipple in my mouth, Kate?"
"NO!" she said, a huskiness in her silky voice, her breathing deeper and a little faster. She closed the distance between her nipple and my lips, pushing it lightly against my mouth. My loins were screaming at my lips and teeth to open up and take that hard little bud inside...my mind kept my mouth tightly shut. After what seemed like centuries, she stood up.
"You've passed my little test, slave. Do you want to suck on my nipple?"
"Oh yes, Kate, please, I beg you, put your nipple in my mouth." At that moment I wasn't acting or playing a slave game, my entire being ached to taste her.
"Very well," she purred seductively, "you're a good slave and deserve a reward. The better you are, the more rewards you get." She leaned over me again. I parted my hungry lips and raised my head to meet her descending nipple. She held it just out of reach. I couldn't help myself, little boy whimpering sounds escaped my throat in anticipation.
"Please, oh please, Kate," I whimpered, "I'll do anything you say, ANYTHING, just let me taste your nipple."
"I know you will, darling," she whispered, "I know you will." She lowered her hard nipple to my parted lips. I closed them around it and slowly traced a path around its base with my tongue. Her eyes closed and a soft moan came out of her. She pushed harder with her breast and I opened my mouth wider to take all she wanted to give.
"Yessss slave! Suck my breast!" Her breathing was heavier.
I captured her nipple in my teeth and began nibbling from the base, working my way to the tip, then flicked, licked and sucked, then began nibbling again. Her moaning became louder and more yearning. Without warning she stood up, pulling her breast from my mouth with a wet popping sound. I groaned in frustration and disappointment. "Something wrong, slave?" Her eyes flashed mischievously at mine, the sparkle had returned. "Do you want to suck on my nipple some more?" she asked teasingly. "You aren't complaining, are you?"
"No, mistress Kate, I'm not complaining. It's just that your nipples are so sweet, and firm...I could nibble and suck on them for hours."
"Perhaps later," she said, moving back to the center of the cell. "Right now I want you to see the rest of what you may or may not get to experience tonight."
She kicked her shoes off and flipped them onto the other bunk. Slowly, she unfastened the waistband of her slacks and lowered the zipper. My pulse quickened and my rigid cock began waving wildly in the air, its spasms completely beyond my control. My eyes were riveted on the juncture of her thighs as she continued to lower the zipper with one hand, the other holding the waistband together. As the zipper reached its lowest point, she turned her back to me. To say she was a master tease would be an understatement. I had no doubt she was serious when she told me I may or may not get to partake of her luscious charms. It became my fervent hope that she would be a compassionate mistress and allow me to become lost in ecstasy within her body.
She lowered her slacks from her waist to the top of her hips, looked back over her shoulder at me, blew me a sensuous kiss, then threw her head back and laughed teasingly. She began undulating her hips in a slow, circular motion. With each rotation she pushed the slacks lower on her hips. After what seemed an eternity, I could see the lacy waistband of her panties, black against the creamy smooth flesh of her lower back. She wasn't wearing pantyhose. Still lower the slacks went, driving me crazy with desire, until her entire buttocks were exposed, sheathed in filmy, black lace bikini panties. Her ass cheeks rotating against one another beneath the lace of her panties as she continued to undulate her hips. It was almost more than I could bear. I wanted to scream out, "Fuck me, Kate! Oh, please, slide your hot pussy down over my cock! I want to be inside you!" But I dared not for fear this would all end with a trip across the street and booking. So I simply lay there watching, my heart pounding in my chest, my cock throbbing mercilessly.
She stopped undulating her hips and simply let her slacks fall down around her ankles. Her bare legs were smooth and shapely and held promises of wondrous delights.
Slowly, she bent over at the waist without bending her knees. As she bent, the fabric of her panties tightened across her cheeks and the juncture between. Covered only by a thin strip of lace, her hidden pussy raised my blood to the boiling point. As she lifted first one leg, then the other to step out of her slacks, her pussy also shifted, first to one side, then the other. She was watching me now from between her legs, her upside down smile seemed somehow angelic and demonic at the same time.
She raised her hand between her legs and began moving her middle finger up and down the lace that covered her charms. She closed her eyes and moaned softly...I could barely hear it over the whimpering sounds I was making.
She moved the lace aside, exposing the deliriously luscious lips of her moist pussy. As I watched hypnotized, her finger slowly vanished between those lips.
"Oh God! Kate," I moaned, "you're driving me..." I became silent, remembering the "no complaint" rule.
She stopped, her finger buried deep in her pussy. Her eyes opened wide, staring at me upside down from between her long, shapely legs.
"You may continue, slave. Don't be afraid," she purred.
"CRAZY!" I shouted in pure animal lust. She jumped slightly at my shout, but kept her finger buried deep within her. I had never wanted a woman as badly as I wanted her at that moment.
"Oh God, please mistress..." Tears of frustration were streaming down my face, my body arched off the bed, my hips thrust into the air. "Let me ram my cock deep inside your pussy! GOD! IT HURTS...I FEEL LIKE I'M GOING TO BURST...I WANT YOU SO BADLY!" I was squirming all over the bunk, breathing heavily and moaning loudly.
"It hurts?" She asked, her finger now moving slowly in and out of her wet pussy, making me delirious with lust. "Is that a complaint, slave?"
"N-no, no mistress!" I replied quickly with gasping breath. "It's a good hurt! A wonderful hurt!"
"That's better," she purred, slowly removing her finger from her pussy. She stood up straight, turned sensually and came toward me, her pubic mound pushing at the lace...undulating...teasing.
She sat on the bunk next to me. "We'll have to do something about that hurt," she said. She took my throbbing, pulsating, aching cock in her hand and closed her fingers loosely around it. Then she ran the finger that had been buried deep in her wet pussy under my nose. As she did this, she squeezed my cock with her other hand. The sweet smell of her juices invaded my brain short-circuiting millions of neuro switches."Her scent and the squeezing pressure of her hand on my cock was too much. My balls tightened involuntarily, and a stream of hot, creamy cum erupted from the head of my cock and flowed over her hand. I tried to pump against her hand with my hips to release more of my pent-up fluid, but she released her grip on my hot cock immediately. It jerked a few times on its own, pumping liquid from the tip with each spasm. I could feel it hot against my skin as it worked its way down my shaft toward my balls. I wanted to scream in frustration, wanted to rape this hot cop bitch who held me captive, wanted to stab her to death with my hot, throbbing cock...all I did was whimper "Oh God, Kate...Oh God...Oh my God..."
"Does it feel better now?" she asked and laughed a deep, animal laugh. She slowly licked my cum from her hand. "You taste delicious, slave," she purred. "I'll have to have more....but later." She bent then, lowering her lips to mine, her tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. I could taste my own salty juices in her mouth and could smell the musky scent of my cum on her breath. My mind began to slip...I was driven slowly to the brink of sexual insanity by this taunting, teasing police officer!
She broke the kiss long before I wanted her to. I closed my eyes and savored the kiss, committing it to memory forever. Opening my eyes again, I looked down my body and saw her face in the vicinity of my still hard cock.
"Oh, look," she whispered sensually, "you've spilled some of your sweet cum." I could feel her hot breath on my cock and balls as she spoke. "Would my slave like me to clean him up?" she asked teasingly.
"Y-yesssss, please do." There was an aching, genuinely urgent tone in my voice.
"Do you think you deserve to be cleaned? Do you think you've been a good slave, darling John?" Her voice was teasing, taunting, driving me wild with desire and a deep, yawning urge to bury my hot cock into any opening she might offer.
"I've tried to be good, Mistress," I said timidly, not looking at her. As much as I tried to hold on to my masculinity, I failed. I really had become this incredibly sexy vixen's slave. At that moment, I knew I would do anything she asked. I'd do it gladly if it meant sampling her charms. Every nerve ending in my body was on a razor's edge...her slightest touch, anywhere on my body, sent waves of tingles and goose flesh racing throughout my entire being.
"Look at me, slave," she commanded.
I looked into her sparkling hazel eyes and became lost in a place I never wanted to escape from. I felt as if I were falling into transparent pools of hazel-colored liquid....if she didn't speak soon, I knew I would drown. At the last possible second, her voice pulled me out of her liquid eyes, saving me from being trapped there for eternity.
"Yes," she said slowly, "you have been a good slave, an obedient and tasty slave. You have earned another reward. I will let it be one of your own choosing. How would you like to be cleaned up, slave?"
My mind raced with the possibilities. I wanted my cock deep in her inviting pussy....I also wanted to feel it slide deep into her throat...I wanted to stuff its entire, throbbing length into her ass, too. I was so consumed with desire for this creature, I couldn't speak.
"Quickly, slave," she purred, "what part of your Mistress do you want me to clean your beautiful cock and balls with?"
"It's not a slave's place to choose, Mistress." It was as if someone else had spoken with my voice. I'd been given the chance to let my cock explore any part of this luscious body I desired, and I actually said it wasn't my place to choose!
"Ahhh, my sweet, sexy John slave." She was using that sexy voice of hers. "You are indeed the perfect slave. You pass each test I give you." With that, she lowered her head and cleaned the cum from my cock and balls with her luxuriously thick auburn hair. She wrapped my rigid cock in it and slowly moved it from the base of my shaft to the tip of its head. It was like pushing my cock through a silken tube....the sensation was so intense I nearly came again. I gasped from the pure pleasure of it. I had never imagined, in my wildest fantasies, that a woman's hair could feel so good!
When she finally finished cleaning me and lifted her head, I could see streaks of her hair stuck wetly together with my creamy cum.
"We're going to have some fun now, slave." She left the bunk and bent over a carry bag she had brought with her. Again, she bent at the waist, knees straight, giving me a direct view of her glorious pussy trapped beneath her lacy panties. She took her time rummaging through the bag, all the while shifting her weight from one leg to the other. The movement beneath her panties was driving me even deeper into the depths of sexual desire....and she knew it!
At long last, she stood up and turned to face me. In one hand, she held a small, penis-shaped vibrator, in the other was a string of ten wooden beads, each a quarter of an inch in diameter and spaced two inches apart on the string. I had heard stories of the beads and how they were used, but I had never experienced it...my blood raced at the thought. She approached slowly, her hips undulating, her weapons in her hands, a wide smile on her face.
She laid her weapons at the foot of the bed between my legs. Then she removed the pillow from beneath my head.
"Lift your ass," she commanded.
I obeyed. She doubled the pillow and placed it beneath my ass.
"Relax," she said.
I tried.
She retrieved her weapons and positioned herself between my legs. She switched on the vibrator and put its tip at the base of my scrotum and moved it slowly upward. The sensations made my cock jump and wobble uncontrollably. After a few minutes, she moved it to the base of my cock and held it there. She lowered her head then, and I could feel her warm, wet tongue licking my ass and poking at my hole. Moaning sounds were coming from deep within her as she continued to lubricate my asshole with her warm saliva.
I jerked my hips upward and tightened my ass muscles when she attempted to insert the first wooden bead.
She raised her head and stared at me with those bewitching eyes.
"Relax, John," she commanded softly, compassionately, sensually. "Your Mistress wants you to feel pleasure, not pain."
"Oh God," was all I could manage to moan.
She lowered her head again. I loosened my muscles as best I could, and felt the first of ten beads being pushed gently into my ass by this wildly erotic animal that held me captive.
"Oooooooh GOD!" I moaned....and with each of the ten beads she inserted, I moaned the same phrase.
"How do you feel?" she asked when she had completed her task.
"Full," I said, "it feels so, so strange." I was breathing heavily.
"Don't worry, John. Just relax your muscles, you'll enjoy it so much more."
With all the effort I could manage, I concentrated on relaxing. As I became more and more relaxed, that strange feeling left me, and I felt less full. The sensation actually became pleasant.
"Yes, John. That's much better," she purred soothingly.
She put the buzzing vibrator back on my scrotum and rotated it in tiny circles. Her other hand grasped my throbbing shaft and held it steady. Then she lowered her head and probed the tiny opening in the head of my cock with her hot tongue. Indescribable sensations shot down the length of my tortured cock and raced through my body like an avalanche!
"I'm going to make you cum in my mouth," she said, moving her head away from my eager cock. "But I promise you one thing, you'll experience ecstasy you never thought possible before you do!"
I had already experienced ecstasy of the magnitude she described, and she hadn't really done anything to me, yet. All of her, her body, her eyes, her voice, her taunting and teasing were driving me insane with passion. I wanted to deposit a hot load of liquid deep within her luscious body, and I didn't care where!
My hips jerked spasmodically when I felt the hot wetness of her mouth close around the head of my cock .... she was still working the vibrator in tight circles on my scrotum, her other hand rhythmically squeezing my shaft. Her tongue began moving back and forth across the opening in my cock .... slowly at first, then faster and faster. In a desperate effort to get more of myself inside her, I pushed upward. She immediately stopped all activity and sat upright, staring at me with her hypnotic eyes .... my steel-hard cock was left bobbing in the air like a drunken sailor, the skin on its head hot, purple, and tight in anticipation.
"Oooooh GOD! Kate, Mistress .... please, don't torture me this way. I don't know how much longer I can stand it!" My head tossed from side to side as I spoke. The pressure of the hot fluids trapped inside my body was becoming painful. I felt if I didn't cum soon, I would explode, flooding the insides of my own body with juices.
"Don't?" She asked with authority. "Did my slave actually say 'don't' to me?" She laughed a wicked little laugh, "Dear slave, you don't understand, do you? You are MY slave, I AM your Mistress. I will decide what I will and will not do, not you. Your only purpose for being tonight is to make me happy. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, Kate," I said sheepishly, "I will do as you say, it's just that you're driving me crazy .... I can't help it, I just want to feel all of me deep inside you."
"Let me hear you beg for it, slave," she said tauntingly, eyes flashing, then she licked the underside of my throbbing shaft from base to tip.
"OH GOD!" I moaned, my body jerking in response to her tongue. "You are the perfect Mistress." I was gasping for breath, barely getting the words out. "You are fair in your punishment and compassionate in your judgment.""Please, Mistress, I beg of you, have compassion for this unworthy servant. I exist only to give you pleasure. Ummm, please, allow my fevered and eager cock to explore the depths of your throat. Oh God, Kate, allow this pitiful slave to provide you with a warm drink of sweet juices to soothe your burning throat. Please, Kate, I only want to please you."
"Oooooh, slave!" She purred, her eyes softening with compassion and just a hint of eagerness. "You have begged so eloquently, how can I possibly refuse? Besides, I am anxious to taste your cum again. I have decided to grant your request."
She put the vibrator back on my scrotum and quickly slid her hot mouth down the full length of my tormented cock, enclosing it in a moist, velvety sheath that clung to the contours of my shaft and head like a glove.
"Aaaaagggghhhh!" I moaned as the head of my pulsing tube came to rest at the back of her throat, her soft lips applying scintillating pressure on the base of my shaft, her silken tongue moving back and forth on the underside of my cock. Her tongue was picking up and transmitting the tingling vibration from the machine pressing against my balls.
"OH MY GOD! I CAN'T STAND IT... IT FEELS SOOOOO WONDERFUL!" I was moaning and whimpering now, buried to the hilt in her tight throat. I thought I was going to die!
She began a slow, steady up and down movement with her head, animal sounds of her own mingling with mine. My burning cock slid out to the head then back into that tight sheath to the base of her throat, faster and faster she moved. My head was tossing from side to side, eyes squeezed tightly shut, sparks of sexual fire exploding in my brain and showering my entire body with hot pin pricks of sensual sensation. She continued moving her head up and down, the pleasure she and the vibrator were giving went far past the concept of "normal". So intense was the pleasure, it bordered on the threshold of pain. The mechanism in my body that triggers orgasm was frozen solid. I was lost in a galaxy of pleasure and pain, without orgasm there could be no way out!
I can't be sure how long she kept it up. But, if she kept doing what she was doing, I knew the exhilarating intensity of sensation would never let me cum. She must have read my mind or my cock or both because she slowed her pace and began working her magic mouth on the head only, her free hand gripping my shaft and jacking me off in perfect time with her mouth.
As suddenly as she had shifted technique, a whole different wave of sensations rolled in and crashed over my tingling body. The first warnings of a 10.2 earthquake began rocking my body, its epicenter at my throbbing cock.
The major quake shot throughout my body. Stream after stream of hot cum rocketed into her hungry mouth.
"OOOOOOH SHIIIIIT!" I screamed, thrusting my hips off the pillow. She took all of the first load, moaning and making animal sounds. Then she grabbed the string sticking out of my ass and pulled the first wooden bead across my prostate.
"OH! OH! OOOOOH MY GOD!" I was screaming in surprise as an aftershock coursed through my cock, producing a second orgasm and a second flood of hot liquid. She captured it in her mouth and gulped it down. Another pull on the string, another aftershock, another orgasm, more cum than I ever thought I was capable of producing. My eyes were wide open, not seeing, my body arched off the pillow, frozen like a statue, my mouth wide and working, no sound coming out.
Still another bead exploding my insides with sensation, draining me of fluid and still her mouth worked feverishly on my erupting cock, sucking out the creamy liquid, tongue swirling, urging me to produce more!
I came 11 times in the space of two minutes. It seemed like an eternity, each bead worked its magic on my prostate, each pass producing an intense, cum gushing orgasm! After the last orgasm, my body remained frozen in that arched position, the head of my drained cock still trapped in her mouth, still pulsating with frequent, non-orgasmic aftershocks. She slowly inserted the vibrator in my ass, my entire body began to shudder and collapsed on the bed, quivering and shaking out of control. I was gasping for breath, trying to gain control of my body. "Oh fuck it!" I thought and gave myself to the sensations controlling me.
"Oooooh, slave! You have given me a wonderful treat. My thirst is quenched! But my pussy and my ass need a drink, too!"
"Noooooo..." I protested weakly. My mind was telling me my body was exhausted, drained, used up.
"Yessss," she purred, "but not until you've rested." She took a washcloth from her bag and held it under cold water from the sink. She wrung it out and, lifting my limp cock delicately with her fingers, placed the cool, damp cloth on my feverish balls. Then she released my cock and pulled the remainder of the cloth over it.
"Aaaaahhh," I sighed, my breathing beginning to return to normal, "that feels wonderful."
She reached back into her goody bag and pulled out a banana. Sitting beside me on the bunk, she peeled it slowly. Everything she did had an air of sensuality. She tossed the peel in the corner and held the fruit up delicately in front of my face.
"We must have nourishment," she said and moved the end of the banana toward her parted lips. She licked it from mid-way to the tip and let the end slip slowly into her mouth. In the deepest, most remote places of my being, I felt a weak sexual stirring begin.
"Ummmmm," she sighed, biting off the tip of the fruit. I watched in fascination as she chewed and then swallowed it. "It's good, slave, but not as delicious as you!" She laid the banana on my chest and took her panties off, teasingly, sensuously. The sight of her full, beautiful bush made my heart skip a beat. I couldn't take my eyes away from it.
"You like my pussy, slave?" She asked tauntingly. She spread her legs, and her pink and inviting clit lay nestled in her flesh like a precious cultured pearl. Further down, the entrance to paradise lay invitingly open.
"Would you like to fuck me, slave?" Her eyes were sparkling again, and she began slowly rotating her hips, teasing me with her waiting pink flesh. "Would you like to put your cock deep in my hot, wet pussy, slave?"
"OH GOD YES!" My eyes were wide, my throat dry, the sexual stirring I felt moments before becoming a tornado of destructive passion and yearning. I felt my balls moving inside my sack, and my limp meat was beginning to stiffen again.
"Perhaps... perhaps not!" She laughed deep in her throat, fanning the fires she had started deep within me.
She turned the banana around and placed the unbitten end against the entrance to paradise. Leaning back slightly, she pushed the fruit slowly into her pussy. I watched in a hypnotic trance as the fruit slid inch by agonizing inch into her moist opening. After pushing it almost all the way in, she withdrew it, then pushed it in again, then withdrew it all the way.
She brought the fruit toward my face, her woman scent mixed with the smell of the banana made my mouth water. I opened my mouth wide in anticipation of this delightful treat. She did not disappoint me. I took a big bite, savoring the mixed flavors. She fed me the rest of the most delicious fruit I'd ever tasted. I knew deep inside I'd never be able to look at a banana again without reliving these moments.
Back in her goodie bag again, she took out a can of whipped cream. Shaking the can, she spread her legs once again and sprayed her entire bush with the fluffy white topping.
"Time for dessert," she purred and put one knee on each side of my head, her cream-soaked pussy hovering above my mouth. "Bon appétit," she said and lowered that savory treat to my mouth.
She didn't have to tell me what to do next. Starting at the entrance to paradise, I licked the cream from her treasures. She rocked her hips back and forth to help me, breathing heavily, moaning and sighing. I licked and slurped and sucked the delicious stuff from between her pussy lips, from the sides of her legs and her bush. Another food I would never look at in quite the same way again! As the sweet treat vanished, I concentrated my efforts on her clit. She pressed harder against my mouth, rocking faster and moaning louder.
"Ummmmm... yes, slave," she sighed, breathing faster. "Eat my pussy, Ooooooh... take my clit in your teeth, that's it... Oh God, Yes! Bite it, yes, yes, YEESSSSS... a little harder... Oooooh, Yeah... now put your tongue in my hole... Oooooooo, Ummmmmmm... yes, slave!" She was rocking faster, moving her sweet wet pussy back and forth, her nipples and rolling them back and forth between her fingers. Her head was thrown back, and she began whimpering and moaning louder. The fire that had begun in my loins was now raging out of control and spread to other parts of my body. My cock had once again become hard as steel.
"Oooooh, Oooooh, Oooooh, Oooooh, slave!" She was beginning to scream in ecstasy. I could feel her thighs quivering against the sides of my head as she moved her pussy ever faster across my tongue. She was grinding that magnificent cunt down into my mouth now. Each time her clit came over my tongue, her thighs jerked, and I tried to capture that elusive bud and suck on it, but nothing would stop the rocking, grinding motion she had begun with her hips.
"YES, YES, YES, YES!" She chanted, rocking still faster. "OOOH GOD! OOOH GOD! OOOOOOOOO YEEEEESSSSS!" She was breathing wildly now, her chest heaving with the labor. Her thighs began jerking uncontrollably. She moved her hands from her breasts to my head.Taking a handful of my hair with each hand, she pulled my face harder into her soaking wet crotch. Suddenly, she stopped rocking, her entire body quivering. She ground her pussy into my face in tiny rotating circles, pulling my face still harder into her crotch with her hands. I captured her throbbing clit and closed my lips around it, applying all the suction I could manage and, at the same time, nibbling and flicking it with my tongue as hard as I could.
The quivering in her body turned to a shudder, and a loud, shrieking scream tore from her throat. Her hips were grinding in small circles hard against my face, forcing her hot, wet pussy even tighter to my hungry mouth.
She was climbing to the peak of an orgasmic mountain, and I was doing all I could to help her reach the top. At the peak of her orgasm, she ceased all movement, except for her clit. I could feel it pulsating in my mouth, and I continued to nibble and run my tongue roughly across its tip. Suddenly, the scream coming from her throat was cut off, and the shuddering in her body became a heaving of all her muscles. Her clit still pulsated and throbbed in climax. She was holding her breath, and her muscles ceased heaving and tensed like those of a predator cat ready to pounce. Still, her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips, and we were frozen in time like models for a still life artist, with the only movement being her clit and my tongue.
She had reached the peak of the orgasmic mountain and was taking her sweet time, enjoying the sensations at the top. Finally, she began to descend the other side. She finished the scream, her chest began heaving again desperately sucking in life-giving oxygen, her body began shuddering again, and her hips began rocking back and forth wildly. Her clit continued to throb as it swept past my tongue. She was taking a roller coaster ride, and I had to hang on and take the ride with her.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, all her movement began to slow. The closer she got to the base of the mountain, the slower she moved. Sigh after deep, satisfied sigh came out of her, her hips slowed to a halt, and her clit rested directly on my tongue. It was no longer throbbing. I licked it gently, and she began purring like a cat, running her fingers through my hair and soothing the places she had pulled so hard just moments before.
"Ummmmmmmmm," she sighed dreamily. "John, that was wonderful." The masterful tone in her voice had vanished, replaced by the voice of a soft, sensual woman who had set out on an adventure in mountain climbing, had succeeded, and was now relaxing in front of a cozy fire in a snowed-in lodge. "God! Your mouth is fantastic, lover," she purred, then sighed heavily in contentment.
"Unghflnnnfggh," I replied, her pussy still resting sweetly on my mouth.
"Oops, sorry!" She laughed and climbed off my face. She stretched out next to me on the bunk, her body pressing close to mine, her fingers making little curls with the hair on my chest. She was looking dreamily into my eyes, her own eyes soft and feeling. They had lost the sparkle of the Mistress who held me captive and took on the look of the eyes of a captured dove.
She ran her hand down my chest and across my stomach to my cock. She stroked its head gently with her fingers, then gripped it and squeezed lightly, sending shivers through my body. As she squeezed my cock, she moved her face close to mine, her eyes searching mine. She lowered her lips to mine in a long, passionate, deep French kiss, her tongue seeking out mine and playing tag with it. Little moaning sounds came from her throat. "Oh God!" she said, her lips still on mine, speaking directly into my mouth, "I want your hard, beautiful cock in my pussy. I want to feel it fill me. I want it to explode inside of me and flood me with your hot, wonderful cum." She moaned a long, sensual moan into my mouth, and I could feel the vibrations of it on my lips. Her hand began squeezing my cock tighter and moving slowly up and down the shaft. She let it move down my cock to my balls and began massaging them gently, cupping them, scratching the bottom of my sack with her nails, and gently squeezing them. She pressed her mouth tighter against mine and resumed the passionate kiss of seconds before, all the while doing miraculous things to my genitals with her talented fingers.
"Ooooooh," she purred, "Do you want to fuck me, John? Do you want to feel yourself deep inside me?" Her breathing was becoming more rapid, as was my own. "Do you want to feel my pussy squeeze your beautiful cock until you can't stand it anymore? Do you want to feel your hot cum spurt deep inside me? Oh God... PLEASE TELL me the passion of wanting to bury my cock deep inside her."
"Oh God Yes!" She moaned, "SO DO I!" She got the whipped cream can and began shaking it. When it was ready, she put the nozzle at the base of my rigid cock and made a complete circle of the sweet cream from the base of my cock to the top. It looked like I had a hard, whipped cream cock protruding from my body.
"Ooooooh," she sighed, "just looking at that makes my pussy hungry!" She positioned herself over my whipped cream cock, one leg on each side of my hips, facing me. Slowly, she lowered herself until the creamy head of my swollen cock barely touched her pussy lips. She was breathing heavily now, looking down between her legs to position her juicy pussy just right. When the head of my cock was in just the right position, she lowered her hips a little more, forcing the head of my cock between the hungry, waiting lips of her unbelievably hot cunt. She locked onto my eyes with her own. I held my breath in anticipation, afraid to move for fear she would revert to the slave Mistress and stop.
"Oooooh God! I've been waiting for this all night!" She moaned, still suspended above me, just the head of my cock inside her. I wanted to scream and thrust upward, wanted to shout "ME TOO! SIT DOWN FOR GOD'S SAKE! COVER MY COCK WITH YOUR HOT PUSSY!" But I didn't. I just held my breath, hoping she would slide down my waiting pole.
I didn't have to wait too long. Very slowly, she allowed my cock to slip into her hot, hungry pussy. I wanted to thrust, I wanted to scream, I WANTED TO BURY IT TO THE HILT! The whipped cream was beginning to melt from the heat of our bodies. I could feel it sliding down my cock, over my balls and into the crack of my ass. It was exciting, using the whipped cream for a lubricant, not that her pussy needed lubricating - it was soaking wet all on its own. Still, the thought was erotic and more than just a little stimulating.
My cock was about a fourth of the way in. She was squirming and panting and whimpering. Her thighs were beginning to shake from the strain of lowering herself so slowly and from anticipation.
"Ummmmmm... God that feels great!" She purred, still moving slowly down my rigid cock. One third the way in now, we were both moaning and panting. Half way in, she began to chant "Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby! Ooooh Baby!" Two-thirds of my throbbing cock was now out of sight, concealed within the walls of her tight love tunnel.
I couldn't contain myself any longer. "OH GOD, KATE! PLEASE, BURY MY COCK ALL THE WAY! I CAN'T STAND IT... OOOOHHHH MY GOD!"
Apparently, she couldn't stand it any longer either. Without warning, she slammed her hips down, burying my cock completely inside her.
"OH!" She squealed with delight, "Ummmmmmmm, that's wonderful." She purred, sitting absolutely still, my cock completely and totally buried inside her.
At the moment she sat down on my cock, the breath escaped my lungs, and I shouted, "HOLY SHIT! OOOOH GOD YESSSS!"
Still motionless on top of me, she began rhythmically contracting and relaxing the muscles inside her hungry pussy. Each time she contracted those wonderful muscles, squeezing my cock, I would tighten my sphincter and expand the head of my cock to its fullest size. We played expand and contract for what seemed like hours, our eyes locked on one another, just feeling the sensations and being one with each other.
"Oooohhh slave," she whispered sexily, "you have a very talented cock. Does it like being in my pussy?"
"Yes, yes, Mistress! It wants to please you and fill you with its hot load of white liquid."
"My pussy can hardly wait!" She sighed and began rocking back and forth with her hips. The motion bent my rigid pole back and forth, moving it only slightly inside her. Her head was back, and she cupped her breasts with her hands, squeezing them as she continued to rock back and forth on my burning cock.
After a while, she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against my hairy and heaving chest. Her lips found mine, and we kissed passionately. I longed for my hands to be free so I could fondle her breasts and grab her ass cheeks. While she lay on my chest, I began a slow thrusting motion with my hips, driving my cock slowly in and out of the hot, velvety tunnel that held it prisoner. She began moaning softly into my mouth, and I into hers, our tongues still locked in a battle for dominance.
As I thrust in and out of her hot pussy, she began moving her hips from side to side. Her motion combined with mine caused my thrusting cock to scrape one side lining of her tight love tunnel, then the other. It was a completely new sensation to me, and it was bringing me to the base of my own orgasmic mountain!
"Ahhhh yes, fuck me baby!" She moaned into my mouth. "Ram that hard cock into me... deeper, Oooooh yes, that's it... it feels so wonderful I want you to push it all the way through me!"
The way she moaned those words of passion directly into my mouth was helping me, pushing me, to the first ledge of my mountain. The silky wet walls of her pussy were working wonders on the sensitive head of my pulsing cock!
"God, baby, you're sooo good!"So tight, so hot, so wet!" I breathed the words into her mouth.
She put her hands on my chest and pushed herself to an upright position and, using the muscles in her legs, began lifting herself up and down on my rigid cock. Faster and faster she went, like a novice rider on a galloping horse. With each bounce, my throbbing [member] whimpered, and I sighed "OH GOD! OH GOD!" Faster and faster she bounced, tossing her head from side to side, beginning a low-volume chant of "FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" That became louder the faster she moved.
She was moving at a furious pace now, with each downward plunge she made, little bits of whipped cream splashed out from between us, covering my chest and her inner thighs.
"OOOOOHHHH GOD YES!" She screamed, reaching a quick and violent orgasm that made her body shudder. As she came, I began thrusting my hips upward and letting them fall, then up again, lifting her weight, helping her fuck herself into oblivion. "CUM CUM CUM .... YES YES YES .... OOOH OOOH OOOH" she was screaming as orgasmic sensations raced through her body.
When her orgasm subsided, she slowed her pace until she came to a stop, sitting on my still rock-hard cock. My hips were squirming beneath her in passion, my own moaning and whimpering becoming louder .... "Ohhhhh noooo, please, don't stop now ..... Oh God ...."
"Don't worry, lover, we're not through yet," she purred. Then she stretched her legs out in front of her and rotated her body so her back was to my face. Never once coming close to losing the cock buried deep in her hot pussy. The sensation of her turning sent a chill through my entire body!
She reached down between my legs and began raking her fingernails along the underside of my balls. "OOOOOHHHH SHIIIIT!" I cried out in total surprise at both what she was doing and the sensations it caused. Her knees under her once again, she began that slow up and down movement with her body. Every few strokes, she would pause with my cock almost all the way out, then move her hips from side to side and slowly slide back down over my hard and hot cock, all the while scratching and squeezing and massaging my balls gently, seductively. My breathing became more rapid as I quickly approached the second ledge on my orgasmic mountain! I felt lost on that mountain and was thankful to have a guide like her showing me the way to the top!
"Yes baby, fill me with that hot cock of yours!" She moaned, "I love it deep inside me .... Ooooh yes, it fills me up soooo much .... I want your cum to wash every bit of my pussy .... I want to feel it splashing hot against my walls .... I want to hear you moan as your cum gushes out of your hot cock and floods deep into me .... Ummmmmm!" Her words were making my cock even harder than it was .... I didn't know how that could be possible, but it was happening. That feeling I get when I know I'm going to last a long time. For the time being, I was lost in the sensual, tingling feelings her hot pussy was imparting to my cock.
She worked her body feverishly on my erect pole, speeding up her pace, then slowing down .... shifting positions slightly, each time bringing me to new heights of ecstasy .... and all the while stroking, scratching and squeezing my balls. In the next half hour, she came twice, each more powerful than the one before. With each orgasm, her fingernails dug into the flesh of my thighs and her screams of passion pierced the very essence of my soul. Tiny beads of sweat had broken out on her body, and her breathing was becoming labored. Still, she continued, working her wet pussy all over my throbbing hot cock.
As she was approaching her fourth orgasm, her buildup to it was so raw, so animalistic that my balls began to tingle wildly. The first warning that I was approaching the peak of my mountain. She pumped so hard and so fast, and squeezed my cock with her pussy so tightly, I began to go insane with passion. With each foot of height I gained on my upward climb, she matched me in intensity and abandonment. We both began grunting and moaning, pounding our genitals together mercilessly. My legs began to go numb as the tingling spread throughout my body. I could feel my balls swell slightly prior to releasing their heavy load.
At that instant, I thought it would be impossible for either of us to get any more wild than we were .... I was wrong! As we approached orgasm, her hand pulled my ball sack gently, the other drew blood from my thigh. We were both screaming between labored breaths .... our bodies writhing wildly, trying to tear one another apart with pure animal lust.
As my heavy balls exploded their load through my seminal vesicles, I thrust upward with all my strength, burying my spurting cock deeper into her greedy pussy than it had ever been. She screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure and ground her hips downward, impaling her pulsating pussy even further on my exploding cock.
It's hard to describe the sounds, the sensations, the movements of our bodies and the punishment we inflicted on one another during our simultaneous orgasm. I only know her screams of passion were equal to my own, the intensity of her orgasm matched by mine, and the pure animal lust that flooded over us was shared equally. I don't know how long we were lost in the throes of orgasmic ecstasy .... it just seemed to go on and on .... I felt as if every ounce of fluid was being sucked from my entire body by her gripping, hungry pussy. My balls were so drained they began to ache, and still our bodies were tangled and thrusting in an animalistic frenzy, each attempting to best the other. I wanted to be lost in this wild abandon forever .... to be washed away in a flood.
I'm not sure quite how it ended. All I remember is our bodies collapsing in an exhausted heap. My cock was still deep within her, but there was no feeling, no sensation. Her fabulous pussy had literally stripped the nerve endings from my body and devoured them.
There was more deliriously sensual sex between us that night. We came again and again .... she used the beads on me twice more that I can remember .... it could have been more. I never dreamed I could cum so many times in such a short span of time, but her body and imagination did things to me that had never been done to me before.
I remember at about three in the morning, she released me from my bonds. We experimented with every imaginable position .... before we were finished, my cock had explored every possible opening in her body and deposited its creamy cargo within them all.
At six o'clock, a travel alarm in her goody bag went off. At the time, we lay exhausted in one another's arms, caressing and frenching deeply, passionately.
"Oh damn," she muttered at the sound of the alarm and got up to turn it off. "Well, John, slave, lover. Your sentence has been carried out, and I hereby set you free."
We dressed in silence. She in her uniform, me in my jeans and sweatshirt. I didn't want this wild sexual animal to walk out of my life, but I didn't know what to say.
"Would you like to come home with me? I'll make you a great breakfast," she must have read my mind.
"I'd love to, Kate," I said softly.
She took me to my car, and I followed her home.
As she put her key in the front door, it swung open, a stunning brunette standing in the doorway.
"John," Kate said, "I'd like you to meet my roommate Kimberly."
"Hi, Kimberly," I said, my hand on Kate's ass.
"Oooooh Hi John," she purred, her deep green eyes sparkling with sexual energy. Kate gave me a seductive little wink, a huge smile on her face.
[THE END] | 1 |
4,926 | The Wild Side | "Cutter," she breathed, the word barely more than a whisper.
Bridget stood near the fountain in the large crowded banquet hall of the Brentwood Country Club. All around her, people talked and chatted inanely about uninteresting topics while Bridget stood near the broad window and looked longingly at the distant mountains. The sun's last light was gilding the peaks as the shadows grew, creeping toward the summit.
Four days had passed since she had hastily said goodbye to her rescuer high in those mountains. Four long days, and even longer nights, since they had coupled together on the porch of the rustic cabin. The heat of that encounter still lingered strongly in Bridget's mind, as she toyed with the diamond necklace that hung about her slender neck. She had concocted a story to placate the police concerning her disappearance. She claimed to have lost control of her car, then she had called Marjorie on her cellular phone to come and get her, returning to her home instead of the Lake Lodge. Marjorie had cooperated with the deception, but was very hurt by the fact that Bridget refused to give her any details about what had really happened.
The Annual Arts Festival was a major success, due in large part to Bridget's efforts as co-coordinator. Not that she cared now. In fact, she had thought seriously about staying home again tonight, to wait for her hero to come down from the mountain as she had been promised. But Marjorie and Beth had cajoled and guilted her into attending, stating that she had a responsibility to attend. So she had come, dressed in her finest for the occasion, even if her heart and mind were far away.
Her dress was black velvet and strapless, with a cinched waist that most closely resembled a corset. The neckline plunged, the underwire of the seemingly delicate bra hidden beneath pushing her round breasts into an impressive décolletage. Dark, line back stockings finished the sultry look with her legs ending in a pair of black velvet pumps with gold tipped stiletto heels, a sexy, slim gold buckled strap encircling each ankle. The men attending the Festival Banquet devoured her with their eyes, but Bridget hardly noticed tonight. In the past, she would have reveled in the obvious attention her looks brought her, but tonight her mind was on one person alone, and he was still mysteriously absent.
She remembered the glass of champagne that she held in one satin gloved hand, and she brought it up to her deep red lips. She glanced about the ballroom, trying desperately to think of a reason to excuse herself and go home. She was positive that Cutter would make good on his promise to come to her as soon as he could. No matter how jaded she had become at the hands of her lying husband, she was convinced of Cutter's goodness and sincerity. Though she really knew so little about him, she yearned for his touch, and she trusted him.
"Bridget," came a woman's voice from behind her, "Have you met Mr. Smithers?"
Bridget sighed and turned toward Marjorie and her guest, well-worn words of welcome already forming on her lips as her eyes fell on the trio standing before her. The words never saw life as Bridget froze in place, almost dropping the crystal glass that she held. Marjorie stood beside a heavy-set man of about 60, who reached out to shake the hand that Bridget still unconsciously offered in greeting. He was saying something, but the actual words were lost to Bridget amid the pounding of her pulse in her ears. The other man flanking the two was tall, close to 6 feet, with long brown hair that was beginning to go grey at the temples. His grey eyes sparkled with amusement at Bridget's reaction to his surprise appearance here. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tried to conceal his gratification at her response.
"...and this is Mr. McGuiness, an artist with the Earth Arts Center," Marjorie's voice rose louder in an attempt to rouse her friend from her obvious stupor. "He has some marvelous pieces in the Festival this year."
"Mrs. Wentworth," Cutter said, stepping forward, "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." He arched one eyebrow in a conspiratorial look as he raised her hand to his lips briefly. Bridget could feel her skin warm beneath his lips, even through the smooth fabric of the elbow-length gloves. Cutter was an impressive figure, in a tuxedo or not, and Bridget could sense the envious stares of the women in the room as she stood toe to toe with him.
Marjorie tried once more to engage Bridget into a conversation with the older man, before hustling him away to meet someone else. She cast a disapproving glance at Bridget for her rudeness as she led the grey-haired gentleman away, then smiled to herself as she noticed Cutter and Bridget standing mesmerized and still as stones facing each other.
"Miss me?" Cutter asked, grinning wickedly.
"I thought you'd never come," she said, finding her voice at last.
"I thought it best to lay low for a while, but things seemed to have settled down well enough."
"Let's go someplace quieter," she said, her heels bringing her almost to his height as she took a step nearer to him.
"Why, Mrs. Wentworth," he said, feigning shock, "what WILL the ladies of the Club say?"
The corners of her red, full lips turned up into their own wicked smile as she reached out to take his hand.
"Whatever the Hell they want to..." she replied, leading him through the crowd toward the hallway.
They wound through the bustle of people as Bridget led Cutter forward. The long full mane of her black hair bobbed and weaved down her back in masses of large curls as they pressed on. Finally, they reached the quieter hallway with its rows of dark-stained wooden doorways. Halfway down the row of doors, Bridget stopped, extending one finger to press the numbers of the keypad lock that safeguarded the office beyond. The lock disengaged with an audible click, and Bridget swung the door open, pulling Cutter in behind her before closing it again.
The office was dark, with no windows to the outside. Cutter could see nothing as Bridget released his hand to feel her way across the room. There was a sharp click, followed by a glow of light from a lamp where it sat near the center of a large oak desk. Bridget sat on the edge of the desk facing Cutter, her long legs crossed forcing the hem of the dress to ride higher up her thighs. The top edge of her stockings and the strap of one garter peeked out from beneath the cloth. Bridget drummed the fingers of one hand on the desktop slowly, the clicking of the long nails muffled by the satin of the gloves. She could see the outline of Cutter's cock clearly as it grew beneath the fabric of his pants. She watched it as if hypnotized, her pink tongue darting out to run lightly across her upper lip. Cutter's dick jumped visibly and strained behind the zipper of his pants at this, and Bridget smiled, her eyes darting up to Cutter's face. She held out one satin-covered arm and commanded him to come forward by moving her finger.
Cutter walked forward and bent to kiss her, but Bridget placed her slender fingers against his warm lips, stopping him. She tilted her head and stretched her neck upward to brush her hot, warm lips against the skin of his throat. She smiled as her hot, moist breath caused his skin to quiver. She licked him from the end of his white shirt collar to the edge of his jaw, slowly, her slender fingers encircling his wrists and forcing his strong hands to remain flat against the top of the desk on either side of where she sat. Cutter tilted his head backward, exposing his throat to her hot, wet kisses. Assured that he would remain in this position, Bridget released his wrists and unbuttoned the starched shirt from top to bottom, her tongue and lips working their way ever downward across his chest as it was exposed. Her satin-covered hands spread the cloth away from his muscular body, revealing his nipples for her mouth's pleasure. As she sucked and nibbled upon his nipples, Cutter's now rock-hard cock brushed back and forth against her still-crossed legs, through the fabric of his pants.
Bridget's hands deftly released the belt and button holding Cutter's pants, and slowly pulled the zipper down, his shaft bulging through the underwear beneath. His pants slid easily to the floor, as Bridget pulled the shirt and jacket back and off his powerful arms. Bridget traced the outline of his straining member through the cotton of the boxers with one finger, Cutter's cock jumping with every touch of her hand.Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she sent it too toward the floor, where Cutter stepped free of the garments. His huge cock was fully free now, and it stood out erect in a gentle upward curve from above his wrinkled scrotum. The purple head seemed to throb as Bridget wrapped her long fingers around the thick shaft, running her hand over its length from head to base. She cradled his balls in one hand, while she slowly pumped his shaft with the other, her eyes riveted to the sight of it in her small hands.
Cutter bent once again to kiss her, but she slipped easily from his reach. Uncrossing her legs, Bridget slipped down from her seat on the desk, to crouch before him. He stood, leaning upon his arms against the desk top, the smooth head of his dick swaying in the air just inches from Bridget's face. She kissed one thigh, and then the other, her tongue briefly flicking against his balls between each. As she squatted atop the stiletto heels, Bridget felt the warming wetness building in her cunt. She knew that the juices would spread out to the black lace panties soon and might even drip to the floor in this position, but she didn't care.
Grasping Cutter's cock in her left hand, Bridget pulled the skin back toward his body, forcing it even tighter over the bulging head. The small hole in the end gaped open like a mouth as Bridget lightly tickled the swollen head of Cutter's cock with her wet tongue. Around and around, she circled the head, stopping occasionally to kiss the tip with her moist red lips. Cutter's breathing increased, and Bridget could see the muscles in his legs begin to ripple in pleasure. Softly, she wrapped her wonderfully supple lips around Cutter's meat, just behind the bulging rim of the head. Bridget's hot tongue flicked within her mouth along the sensitive underside as Cutter began to slightly thrust his hips forward and back. She knew his dick was aching to stroke fully in and out of her burning mouth, but she did not allow it. For ages she tortured him with the pleasure of holding the head of his cock in her mouth, her tongue working its way over the underside and the tip.
Cutter's hands gripped the edge of the desk, and Bridget thought he just might rip it to pieces with those muscular arms. Slowly at first, and then at a faster pace, Bridget slid her red lips down Cutter's shaft all the way to the base and then back to the tip of the head. His huge cock threatened to gag her, but she concentrated and relaxed her throat to take him all the way in again and again. On each outstroke, the throbbing head of Cutter's dick slurped out of her mouth with an audible "pop", then it disappeared back into that wonderful, wet, hot heaven. With each pop, Cutter's body jerked and a low moan of ecstasy rumbled deep within. The thick shaft of his cock glistened with Bridget's saliva in the light of the desk lamp as it flew faster and faster in and out of her willing mouth. Cutter's knees bent slightly as he fucked Bridget's mouth with increasing intensity, the mass of her pulled-back hair cushioning her head as it bumped against the desk with every stroke.
At the moment that Bridget felt Cutter edge toward losing control, she let the head of his cock slip completely out of her hungry mouth. It wavered there, straining like an animal that hungered for something it could not have. She angled it upward with her hand, her tongue tracing a long slow line from his balls to the tip, her large blue eyes looking up into Cutter's grey eyes with a look of hunger and lust that burned into his mind. Overcome by the heat of lust, Cutter wrenched his hands from the desktop at last, bent down, and gripped Bridget around her slim waist. With one effortless motion, he lifted her up to sit upon the edge of the desk top, papers and telephone spilling haphazardly upon the floor. Her legs spread willingly as they wrapped around his waist. Cutter pulled the top of her velvet dress down, freeing her round, heaving breasts. The diamond necklace sparkled fiercely in the light of the lamp as it lay nestled in the deep cleavage, rising and falling quickly as Bridget began to pant with lust of her own.
Pushing the soft, rich fabric of the dress up around her waist, Cutter pulled on the flimsy lace panty. It tore away easily in his strong hands to reveal Bridget's heat-swollen pussy. The lips of her cunt were swollen with desire as the juices flowed glistening upon the desktop. Lowering his lips to her nipple, Cutter sucked forcefully as Bridget cast her head back, her hands pushing his head into her breast firmly. Cutter's cock needed no guidance to find the entrance of her hole as he spread her dripping cunt lips with one hand. He slid easily inside her warmth, the walls firmly tight around his wide shaft.
Bridget braced her gloved hands against the desktop as Cutter slid his cock in and out of her burning hole. Cutter watched as his cock slid in fully, then back out completely, and then plunged in once again. He reached out taking one slim ankle in each hand, spreading her legs out wide to either side, the gold-tipped stiletto heels pointing out into the darkness of the room. Cutter stood before her, his hips thrusting faster and faster as the gleaming wet shaft of his cock buried itself inside Bridget again and again. Bridget loved being open to him like this, her long legs spread open with his enormous dick pumping in and out madly. She gritted her teeth, but the squeals and moans of delight would not be stifled. Thrusting her own hips to meet his plunges, Bridget grunted like an animal at the depth of every plunge as Cutter's cock rubbed against her now madly throbbing clit. The entire desk rocked with the force of their fucking, the small lamp wavering as it threatened to tumble onto the floor.
Bridget felt herself reaching the brink of climax, and she strained to hold the moment back. She was in heaven, and she wanted the pleasure to last and last. Sensing that she was about to boil over, Cutter released her ankles and drew her writhing body fully upright, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He held her wrists in front of him and ceased his pumping. Bridget hunched on his still embedded shaft, squealing in frustration and pleasure as she tried desperately to fuck him. Her legs gripped him as she tried frantically to pump that marvelous cock in and out, but she just managed to squirm. Cutter held her gloved wrists in his iron grip as she struggled and fought like an animal in heat, her eyes burning with lust from behind the wild locks of her hair. Small plaintive cries passed her fevered lips as she begged him to fuck her.
"This is your husband's office?" he asked softly.
"Yessssss...." she hissed through clenched teeth, her hips grinding her dripping cunt along his throbbing cock.
"You wanted to be in control. You wanted to fuck me on your husband's desk?" came the low voice again.
"YESSSSssss..." she squealed loudly as she tried once again to free her hands and pull him in and out of her burning hole.
"Then DO it...."
Bridget ceased her struggles as Cutter slipped his glistening cock from inside her and pulled her off the desk top. Turning, Cutter lay back upon the top of the desk, his huge wet cock standing straight up like a steeple over his muscled stomach. Bridget understood immediately and scrambled to the top of the desk. She stood, her wild-maned head inches from the low ceiling. She straddled his prone body, one high-heeled foot on either side of his hips, her lovely legs shaking slightly from the building passion. Reaching back, she unzipped the dress and pulled it over her head, casting it aside into the shadows. One gloved hand ran through her hair, moving it back from her eyes as she looked down at her lover. The other hand slid between her spread legs, the moisture darkening the black glove further as she brought the fingers to her own lips. The taste of her own juices spurred her on as she crouched over Cutter's quivering tool, her own wetness causing it to glisten. Balanced on the gold-tipped heels, Bridget lowered herself onto the huge cock. Her heart jumped as the head entered her and the shaft slid easily within her hot tunnel.
Her fingertips braced against Cutter's hard stomach as she began to slide up and down on the incredible pole. Harder and faster she fucked him, her body bouncing up and down, the heels of the shoes marring the polished surface of the desk. Cutter gripped the edges of the desk, his arms bulging as he strained in pleasure. Bridget's breasts bounced with every plunge she made upon the rock-hard shaft. Bridget felt herself reaching the edge once again, her breath punctuated by grunts each time she slammed down on Cutter's dick. Her pumping was frantic now, and her squeals and screams of pleasure echoed through the small office mingling with the moans and shouts of Cutter as he too reached the point of no return.
"Oh...God...Yessss...HMMmmmmm...Unhhhhh," she wailed.
Bridget felt the walls of her cunt contract hard against the iron cock within her. She pumped a few more times in rapid succession, then buried Cutter's shaft to its full length within her as she felt him explode inside her. Bridget fell forward, burying her lovely face in the downy hair covering Cutter's chest, her own hair spilling across his body and onto the desk top. The walls of her pussy continued to contract around Cutter's spewing cock as each wave of orgasm shook her body. Cutter's cum filled her to overflowing and the still hard cock continued to jerk within her as drops of his fluid overflowed to fall on the desk.
They lay together, bodies exhausted and limp, his dick still deep inside her warmth. Bridget could not move at all for several minutes. Gradually, she gained some control and managed to raise her head and look at Cutter. He smiled that gentle smile at her once again, and she returned it freely.
"Why, Mrs."Wentworth," he said, feigning shock once again, "what would the ladies of the Club say?"
"My hero," she said softly, a wide smile splitting her beautiful red lips.
Cutter pulled her, and her light weight slid easily up his body until her face was inches from his own. Finally, their lips met in a passionate, soft, warm kiss that lingered for an eternity.
"Promise me," Bridget breathed, her eyes still closed from the kiss, "promise me we won't be apart again."
"I swear," he answered.
Bridget lay her head back down on her hero's chest. The sound of his large heart drumming in her ears. Surely, some of the party goers had seen them exit to the office together. And she could only imagine the expression on the faces of those close enough to hear what had taken place behind its closed door. But none of that mattered. What mattered was right here in her arms. She could figure all the rest out later, now that her Knight had arrived, armor and all. | 4 |
4,944 | Raped by Racists | "Please! Please don't!" she begged.
"We'll show you what happens to girls who go out with niggers," the broad-shouldered man said.
The blonde man tore her jacket open, then they shoved her back on her back in the grass, prying her legs wide. He knelt between her legs as the big man knelt above her head, holding her hands pressed down against the grass above her.
The blonde guy leered down at her and then grabbed her blouse and tore it open. She gave a low cry and then resumed her weeping. His hands tore at her bra until it too parted. All three sighed in pleasure at the sight of her full, rounded breasts. "Nice fuckin' tits!"
Her groin ached, her buttocks ached, her thighs ached, her head was pounding, and her tits felt cut and torn as they pinched and groped at her oversized nipples.
Then the blonde man was kneeling in front of her. He gripped her hair and jerked her head up so hard she cried out in pain.
"Suck me off, whore!" he snarled, shoving the cockhead at her lips. She gurgled in denial as his cock slid past her lips and into her mouth. She'd never sucked a cock before, but had no choice now as he gripped her hair hard and force-fed it to her. She slipped her tongue along the underside of the head, the way Susan had recommended, rubbing it over his cock as she sucked on it. He was holding her hair hard, and fucking his cock back and forth in her mouth, using her mouth like it was a cunt. Misty tried to push against his hips to slow his pace, to control the depth of the strokes, but he slapped her hands away.
His cockhead kept smashing against the back of her mouth, against the entry to her throat, making her choke and cough and gag.
"Deep throat me, nigger-lover girl," he hissed. "Take it in your throat!" She didn't know what he meant and stopped sucking. He cursed her and thrust hard, and his cock slid right down her gullet.
Her eyes opened wide and she gave a brief chirp of horror before her voice was cut off, her throat blocked with cock meat. His prick slid right down into her throat until her nose was mashed against his belly, his cock hair grinding against her face.
He groaned and slid his cock up and down in her throat as she slapped hysterically at his hips. He cuffed her again, and pulled his cock back out, rubbing the wet, drooling meat against her face.
"Like that, nigger-fucker bitch?" he sneered. "I love these tits," he said, squeezing her left breast as he pulled completely out of her mouth. He pushed her onto her back, dropping to a straddling position above her torso. "Gimmie a tit fuck, whore!" he snarled.
"Wha... what?" she whimpered.
"Take your tits in your hands and fuck against my cock, you stupid nigger loving whore!" She looked down in shock at her breasts, then cried out as he slapped her face. "Come on, you cheap cunt, we ain't got all day!"
She cupped her breasts fearfully as he lowered his cock into her cleavage; she wrapped her heavy breasts around it, squeezing his cock between them. He started to hump up and down as she pressed her tits around it, and she rubbed them from side to side as he sighed in pleasure.
Her mind was numbed from the horror of what they were doing to her, and she was hardly thinking as he fucked her tits and she rubbed them against his cock. Suddenly, he moved forward and shoved it into her mouth again. She sucked helplessly as he pumped his load into her mouth. Then he pulled it out and held it in his fist right in front of her face. Pumping it frantically, more big wads of sperm shot out and hit her on the forehead. Another fat spurt of juice shot out and splattered on her nose, then more wads, a long stream of them, shot out onto her mouth, cheeks, nose and eyes.
He laughed, then rubbed his cock in her hair and stepped back as the other men rolled her onto her stomach.
The vicious oral invasion was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but what was to come was still worse. Much worse. Her face was pressed flat into the dirt, her big breasts mashed beneath her. Then she felt her buttocks being spread roughly apart....
....She felt something pry between her buttocks, but at first ignored it. Her mind was hardly working and she didn't realize what was going on. But as the pain mounted behind her it woke her a little, enough for her to understand what was happening.
"Oh no! Oh please no!" she whimpered, struggling to pull away.
Her asscheeks were cupped tightly by the short man's hands. He held her easily as he pressed his cock against her asshole.
She sobbed and moaned and begged for mercy, but the three men only sneered and laughed as the short man worked his cock into her.
She cried out in pain as the cock gave a lurch forward, penetrating her virgin anal hole. He slapped her ass hard, cursing her. The cock worked deeper, tearing her rectum apart as it drove into her.
"Oh God!" she sobbed. "Oh my GOD!"
"You love it, you nigger loving slut!" a voice said.
"No! No! Don't do this to me! Please don't!"
The cock thrust in hard and she cried out again. It began to pump slowly in and out, with short movements, gradually working its way deeper and deeper into her anus. She felt it push high up into her guts, and her belly cramped as her bowels filled with cock.
"Ahhhh," he said, driving it in to the hilt, pressing his balls against her ass cheeks.
"UHHHhhhhh! Uuuuuuhhhhhh!" Misty moaned. The cock tore backwards, then thrust in again. It pulled back, then pounded deeply into her. Soon it had torn her asshole wide open and was pumping easily. The man squatted behind her, holding her ass cheeks as he pumped the entire length of his cock up and down in her rectum. He groaned in pleasure as he watched his pole sliding back and forth through the girl's little round hole.
The other man held Misty's shoulders into the dirt. She could hear him snigger as the short man sodomized her. Her big breasts were crushed under her and were scraping back and forth in the dirt as her body was jerked and pulled back and forth.
She was still wearing her jacket and shirt, which had now slid down around her shoulders. She tried to pull some fragments of them beneath her to put between her swollen nipples and the hard sandy ground, but the man above her was jamming her shoulders into the ground too hard.
The cock pounded in her asshole, reaming her out with furious, pistoning strokes. Again male hips hammered her buttocks. Her knees were grinding into the dirt just like her tits, shoulders and face, and she could feel the cold sand and dirt and grass between her bare toes.
He held her buttcheeks wide open, and was fucking almost straight down into her rectum. The force of his thrusts smashed her pussy down harder in the dirt as he grunted in pleasure.
Finally, the man dropped his load deep inside her anus, grunting with pleasure as he let it out.He slowed his pumping, then stopped, slapped her ass, and staggered away.
The big man let go of her shoulders and moved behind her, though she didn't see him. She didn't move at all as he got down on his knees behind her. She was completely naked now, but Misty no longer cared. "Please, no more," she moaned in despair as she felt the larger man press his cock against her anus.
She shuddered as he drove it into her to the hilt, then closed her wet eyes. The man pressed down on her shoulders, his belly coming down on her buttocks as he drove her flat on the ground. He fucked his cock up her anus for long minutes, his hands closing tightly around her throbbing breasts in front.
Her entire body was crushed into the dirt, and she almost felt like she was a part of it. She ground back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in time to his fucking movements, then he groaned and she felt his seed pumping into her asshole. She lost consciousness.
When she came to, she was laying flat, spread-eagled on the ground, naked, shivering with cold.
Her pussy felt wet and she could see the stickiness on her chest between her breasts, could feel the sand sticking to her there, and between her legs. Her anus throbbed, and still felt stretched, her bowels still felt full. Slowly, she looked up, then tried to push herself up to a sitting position. Feeling a sharp, tearing pain in her rectum, she reached back and to her shocked horror realized that they had shoved a thick tree branch up her ass! She pulled it out slowly, each retreating inch causing her fresh agony. Finally, the jagged end pulled free, allowing her torn anus to close at last.
She slowly made her way out of the field. | 2 |
4,956 | Hypno-Poem | "Oh, come on," Julie said as she looked across the small table in the lounge room where she and David, her neighbor, sat in her home having morning tea. "You don't mean you're telling me that it actually works? Ha!"
Julie liked David. He had always been good company for her in the mornings after her husband had left for work and before she had to start her boring days of never-ending housework and thinking about her life in general, which she always did while doing the boring housework. Sometimes, when she felt sick of her life and its boring routine, she would empty the trash and do other small things from the house wearing only her skimpy underwear, just for the hell of it. She wasn't an exhibitionist; Julie just wanted to do something different, which was why she had always found David's visits so uplifting. He was different in her life. David seemed to give her day a lift, such that she missed his visits when they didn't occur. Sometimes, though, his zealousness for believing things he had been told or had read in a book would go a bit over the top, like this one - hypnosis without consent.
David smiled with a sigh, waiting for the right opportunity. He had liked his neighbor's wife for some time, so far though, only as a friend to talk to. She was a bored housewife, and he had always felt that his visits helped brighten up her otherwise long days alone in the house. He often saw her getting around the yard in her bra and panties while doing some outside chore. David had called over for his morning cup of coffee before leaving for class at the local university where he was studying psychology. He had just mentioned to Julie that he had been told it was possible to hypnotize someone without them even being aware it was happening, and now she was scoffing at the idea. She was the original cynic, and her answer was exactly what he had been expecting. He'd hoped she would answer that way, and, in fact, he knew she would the minute he thought of doing it. That was why he had done it - so he could then test it out on her and see for himself whether his idea based on what he had been told would work or not.
"I can only tell you what I was told," David said with another deep sigh. "I know this guy, and he isn't the lying type, nor does he ever stretch the truth, at least, as long as I've known him." He was casting his baited hook, hoping her own intelligence and cynicism would be hungry.
"Rubbish!" Julie said, with a dry laugh. "Maybe he did it with some dumb blonde who had the hots for him anyway." Then Julie laughed. Did he think she came down in the last shower, or what? Did she have "Idiot" written across her forehead?
David laughed also, along with sensing that the opportune moment in time had just arrived. "I can tell you the exact same story he told me," he told her. "Then you can make up your own mind, if you like." That should do it, he thought. Take the bait. Take the bait.
"Okay," Julie answered. "Just don't exaggerate anything. Just the facts - only what he said." She hated people who blew up the facts of something, just to support their own case for a win or acceptance of what they were saying. Still, it was better than the dreary daytime soapies she could be watching if he wasn't there each day.
David agreed, smiling politely. "Okay," he began, making sure he was getting it right from the word go. He knew he had to hook her from the beginning, or he wouldn't have a chance.
"Well," he began. "Tom had asked this girl - her name was Sue, if she wanted to participate in an experiment in hypnosis, and she agreed. He called in at her flat one morning for a cup of coffee, just like we're doing now, and he began to tell her the story of how he had hypnotized someone before."
David noticed Julie's eyes widening slightly as she leaned forward on her elbows with her coffee cup in her hand as she listened. So far, so good, he thought. Time to pace it out now. She was nibbling the bait, a little, at least.
"Anyway," David continued. "While he was telling her the story, Tom noticed that Sue began to study his face closely, very closely, in fact, as if she wanted to study one particular detail of his face that she found the most interesting to really study very closely, like she'd never noticed it before, while he talked, and she continued to listen very closely to every word he said, even though she was always really looking very interestingly at that special part of his face which she found so interesting she listened to every word he said, hearing every word and took it all in, even though she was studying his face in the most interesting manner he'd ever noticed anyone ever studying his face so closely before."
Julie found herself looking at a small brown mole on David's cheek. It was shaped like a tiny starfish. She was listening to what he was saying, but was surprised she had never noticed it before, just like he was saying.
David paused briefly to take a breath. She was taking the bait. Julie's eyes had widened and had then ceased to blink as he noticed her focusing her gaze somewhere on his left cheek. He also noticed she had returned her gaze to his eyes less and less as he continued to talk. And her face seemed to be relaxing. Her lips had parted slightly already, and she hadn't sipped her coffee since he had begun to talk.
"And he noticed, as she watched and studied that really interesting part of his face so very closely, that she never really noticed before, she seemed to relax more and more, more relaxed, and was becoming more and more calm, with every easy breath she took and every soothing word she heard him say softly as she listened only to the soothing, soft sound of his voice, while she studied that special part of his face so closely, focusing right in on that special, interesting part to the exclusion of everything else, and listening to every relaxing, soothing word he said, and just kept relaxing more and more deeply, as she felt her mind and body really let go and relax completely, and her face just looked as if it was melting down and letting go, especially with all the muscles around her eyes and shoulders and neck becoming so very heavy and so very tired, she couldn't stop them from closing, relaxing, letting go, all by themselves, because they felt more and more heavy and more and more tired and wanted to relax and close, all by themselves, and then she just allowed them to do whatever they wanted, it was so easy and so natural, felt so relaxing, and they felt so tired and so heavy, that she just allowed them to relax and close down tightly, all by themselves, and then she relaxed twice as deeply, twice as calmly, feeling very good about herself, relaxing so beautifully and so deeply, and just letting everything go completely, breathing peacefully, relaxing more deeply, floating on a cloud, drifting deeper and deeper, so peaceful, so relaxed, so calm, feeling so good about herself, so good, so good, so relaxed, so wonderful, feeling so relaxed and calm."
Somewhere along the line, Julie had been staring intently at the small mole on his cheek, and the next thing she became aware of was a feeling of incredible relaxation and tiredness as it washed over her from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Her eyelids felt so heavy with each word he spoke. She just couldn't keep them open, and she tried. But it didn't worry her in the slightest. She felt so wonderfully relaxed and calm.
David ceased talking with the last word and smiled immediately. Julie's eyes had closed almost as soon as he had mentioned them considering doing so. He gazed at her peaceful face and features. She breathed evenly and peacefully, her chest rising and falling gently with each easy breath she took. She still rested on her elbows on the table, her coffee cup still lightly clasped in one hand, tilting just a little forward.He had noticed Julie also give a deep, slow sigh when he had been cementing the relaxing suggestions through repetition. Her head hung slightly forward, with her beautiful long, red hair tied in a ponytail disappearing behind her shoulder. As he sat there wondering what to do next, David was very happy within himself. Then he got an idea.
"Relax and let go," he said to his entranced neighbor. "And because you feel so wonderful and so naturally relaxed, it would probably feel a lot more comfortable if you could feel your beautiful red hair all let down and cascading down like a flaming red, soft waterfall all down over your relaxed shoulders and back, and feel the relaxed warmth as you let your hair fully down and free, like a beautiful red bird, free and beautiful, hair down, free and beautiful. And remember to forget everything you didn't notice to remember, since your unconscious mind will remember everything anyway, so you don't have to remember what you didn't need to notice in the first place. And allow your unconscious mind to remember your trance key, sleep time, and then forget I said it, which will bring you instantly back here to this relaxing place where you feel so good and so relaxed, whenever you hear me say your trance key, sleep time, that you can forget to notice to remember whenever I say it, and then forget I said it and come straight back here, eyes closed and relaxed so beautifully."
Julie felt herself moving her limbs, but was disinterested and uncaring as to the reasons why. All she knew was that she felt so good. Her own special key for something or other, sleep time. Great idea. Yes, she thought. Anything to stay right where she was, wherever that was, she concluded as she let herself go even deeper into the calm and peace of mind of where she now found herself.
David watched smiling as Julie's hand lowered the coffee cup to the table and then both hands came slowly up behind her neck and slipped off the band holding her thick red hair in place in the ponytail. It fell loosely and softly down around her shoulders and back. Her hands then came back down and rested with her forearms on the table once more.
"You feel so good knowing now you can come back here anytime you hear me say your trance key, sleep time, and then you can forget I said it. Now you can come back to the sound of my voice, feeling really refreshed and feeling so good and alive and excited, and can come back slowly now, feeling fresh in the face and body and in your mind, as you become aware of my voice and the feel of the chair and the feel of the table and the feel of the floor beneath your feet. And when you are ready and feeling really aware and awake, you can feel your eyes open gently, all by themselves, and feel really good about everything, and wonder when we will start talking about whatever I came to talk about."
David ceased talking and waited for Julie's eyes to open. After about three minutes, they slowly opened and blinked several times as she regained her focus. He began talking immediately.
For some reason she couldn't figure out, Julie slowly became aware of her surroundings once again. She felt wonderful as the room and David's face and the tiny mole came back into her line of sight as her eyes lightly opened all by themselves.
"And Tom then asked Sue how it felt to be hypnotized without her knowing it, and it happened exactly like that. Honest." Then he watched Julie as her focus and her mind, along with what she was hearing, conflicted everywhere in her consciousness and her immediate recollection of things. Her brow furrowed as the conflict went on, a puzzled look on her face as she held his gaze and flexed her fingers open and shut a few times.
"Are you okay?" he asked sincerely.
"I... ah... yes," she stammered. "Oh, I can't believe it! I must have drifted off! I'm sorry, David! Oh, how rude I am!" Julie found herself embarrassed in the extreme. She couldn't believe she'd gone off to noddy-land in the middle of a conversation with someone - daydreaming like a little schoolgirl. She felt hot and flushed.
David laughed. "That's okay. Anyone with red hair as beautiful as yours is allowed to drift off every now and then."
Julie's mouth laughed, but her eyes didn't. She had a new puzzle now, and her mind raced against the conflict going on in her conscious mind. She looked to her left shoulder and saw her hair let down and loose. She furrowed her brow even deeper. Her gaze shot from her hair to his eyes, then to her hair again, and then flew to the coffee cup on the table with the hair band resting next to it. She stared quickly back at him, the dawning of what had happened slowly, but surely becoming known to her conscious mind. David just sat there smiling softly at her.
"David!" she exclaimed. "Did you...? Did I...? You didn't! Did you?"
David couldn't help laughing aloud at the sight of her. Her eyes had opened as large as saucers. Her brow had wrinkled to her scalp with utter disbelief. Her mouth hung open in complete surprise at what her conscious mind was trying to tell her had happened, that she obviously had trouble believing.
"Yep," was all he said, still grinning. "How else would your hair have gotten undone?"
"I didn't!" Julie exclaimed again. "Did I? Did you? Oh, you couldn't have. I would have noticed. Wouldn't I? I would have remembered! Wouldn't I?"
David laughed all the more harder at her confusion, such that the tears ran down his cheeks. In fact, so much so, that he couldn't stand to see the look on her face without laughing even harder. He looked down at the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. Then he heard Julie sigh. He looked up at her once again.
Julie sat rock-still, staring at him. She couldn't believe it - didn't want to believe it. It was impossible. She would have remembered. Wouldn't she? Her mind raced with her pulse at the very thought of it being true. Surely not, but her hair-band? How did it...? And the thought died at birth as the dawning of realization filtered slowly down through her consciousness.
"You did! Didn't you?" Julie accused him, admitting it more to herself than accusing him of doing so. "You hypnotized me without me being aware that you did! And then you made me forget that you did as well as let my hair down, just to prove that you did! Didn't you?"
"Yep," was all he answered, but he was still smiling at the memory of how confused she had looked. It took all of his inner strength not to burst out laughing again.
"Well!" Julie said with a defeated sigh. "I'll be damned!" And then slowly, a nervous, yet strangely-excited smile trying to creep across her face. She felt her eyes deepen and become milky. David just smiled and began to sip his cold coffee. Julie looked down at hers as he did so. She was wondering as he sipped, whether or not she should get them more coffee.
David was wondering if he should try her trance key and see if it worked, or maybe, he played with, he should quit while he was ahead.
"Would you like another coffee?" Julie said, interrupting his thoughts of testing her trance key. "That must be cold." Then, "David, you really did! Didn't you?" she exclaimed as she rose from her chair smiling and scooped up his coffee cup as if he'd done something naughty.
"Yep," was all he said as he handed her the cup and grinned up at her.
Julie was back in five minutes with fresh coffee. As she sat opposite him once again, she had a strange look on her face as she glanced at him between silent sips. And Julie knew that was exactly how she felt - strange, and excited.
"And what else did you do while I was hypnotized without me knowing it that you've conveniently made me forget?"
David laughed aloud, almost spilling his coffee in the process. He lowered it to the table gently.
"Nothing," he chuckled, and that was all he said, leaving her to ponder the what-ifs all by herself, while he just kept sipping slowly on his coffee.
Julie's eyes never left him, nor did the strange look ever leave her face as she drank her own coffee slowly. David had not yet decided whether to test her trance key or not while he looked innocently at her suspicious face as she studied him in disbelief.
"Could you have done that?" she asked softly. "You know - taken advantage of me while I was hypnotized?" Her mind raced. Surely she would have felt him penetrate her if he had.
David laughed again. "Don't you think you would have remembered that?" he said.
And with that said, Julie suddenly glanced down at herself, inspecting her blouse. Then she looked down lower, at her waist for several seconds before finally looking back up at his smiling face and eyes. Everything felt normal, except that she was beginning to feel powerful in all the wrong places for such an incredible conversation and happening. But her hair? She wondered incredulously. Her hair?
"I didn't remember letting down my hair. Did I?" she countered suspiciously to his question.
It was all he could do to not burst out laughing, but he managed it somehow.
"That's amazing!" Julie admitted. "It's absolutely amazing!" Julie was blown away. She just couldn't believe what her mind told her was true, whether she liked it or not. It was true.
"Yep," was all David said, and continued to drink his coffee while holding her gaze in his own and smiling softly. Then, on impulse, he added, "What would you do if I had done it?" he asked her.
Her eyes widened over her coffee cup. "I...I don't know," she answered hesitatingly. "I guess...if I couldn't remember what you did, then I...I couldn't do anything about it."Could I?" Julie's heart pounded, for more reasons than one.
David just smiled as he took another sip of his coffee. He waited until she was looking right into his eyes. Then: "Sleep time," he said soothingly, softly, drawing it out.
"What?" she said, stopping her sipping action. "Sleep, what?" And as she stared questioningly at David's expressionless face, Julie felt herself, her mind and her senses, hit with a wave of tiredness the size of the hugest tidal wave she had ever experienced, a wave on which she now found herself willingly just going along for the beautiful ride.
David's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't working. But as he continued to look at her, he saw her blink heavily. While he was holding her gaze and trying to decide if he should say her trance key again, her eyelids fluttered and closed down. They continued to flutter while they were closed for a few seconds, and then they were still. Then Julie took a deep breath and sighed.
"Deeper and deeper, relax and just let yourself go, and take time out and really enjoy the feeling of being so deeply relaxed and so deeply hypnotized, while you listen to your pretty poem and want to do and then remember to forget it after you've learned it off by heart, then you can want to do your pretty poem and then forget it after you've learned it off by heart, and know you want to do your pretty poem and allow yourself to relax and enjoy being hypnotized so deeply because it makes you feel so good to be so relaxed and know your pretty poem so deeply and want to do your pretty poem and so deeply hypnotized, you can learn your pretty poem and then want to do your pretty poem and then forget to remember it as soon as you're sure you've learned it off by heart, then you can forget to remember it. Is that clear?"
My very own special poem, Julie thought, as she reflected on the words and the rhythm of David's voice.
David saw Julie's head nod slightly and he smiled. Then he continued.
"Say your pretty poem after me now," David began. "Either out loud or silently to yourself. And each time you hear yourself say it, it will sink deeper into your mind, and you will always relax more and more as you remember to forget that you know it and will remember to forget that you will follow your poem in everything it means and everything it says when I say the first line, and you will remember to say the rest and relax deeply into a hypnotic trance or stay awake if I tell you. Is that clear?"
Julie tried to speak, but no sound came from her mouth. She felt too relaxed and too good to even try to make the sound. So she decided to just think them like he said she could.
Once again David saw the slight nod of Julie's head as she continued to breathe evenly and deeply. He began saying the special conditioning poem.
"Now to listen, for your greater cause, and soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do, as I am bound."
David then repeated the poem several times to Julie, who, although she said nothing aloud as he spoke, mouthed the words silently as she followed his slow speech in saying it over and over again. Then, once more he gave her instructions in bringing herself back to full awareness of where she was, along with feelings of freshness and vitality.
Sue awoke feeling brighter than she had felt for a long time. She blinked several times and then looked directly at David. Her face felt full of confusion again as she listened to him continue talking about something she hadn't heard until now. Then she saw him start to get up from the table.
"Anyway," he said, getting up from his chair. "It's been interesting to say the least, Julie, but I really have to be going now, or I'll be late. Maybe we could continue this conversation again sometime, if you'd like?"
Julie's face felt and showed a mixture of confusion and disappointment at his leaving. She got up and walked him to the door. By the time he turned to say goodbye, she had recovered to her former cheery self and smiled. He looked deeply into her smiling eyes only a foot away from her face as he smiled goodbye.
"See you later," she chirped cheerily, one hand on the door, ready to close it, wondering how the rest of her day was now going to go after such a strange beginning.
"Now to listen for your greater cause," he said soothingly. Then he watched as her eyes took on a far away look, along with a relaxing of her face as her eyelids gently fluttered several times, and then finally closed.
Julie felt herself suddenly go all fuzzy and light in the head. Her eyes had trouble focusing and were feeling very tired. Something was running around in her head. A tune or a song or something. It felt like it was trying to get out, sort of like an animal in a cage. Then she felt her mouth open as the words in her spinning senses came hesitatingly, yet clearly out through her lips.
"And soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do as I am bound," Julie said hesitatingly.
David watched the sight before him. Julie stood leaning against the door, one hand resting lightly half-way up along the edge - the other hanging limply by her side. Her eyes were closed and she breathed evenly and gently.
"I'll go now, you count to ten, then close the door and begin your day again," he told her soothingly. Then he turned and walked quickly to the large tree at the front of her yard to watch what she did.
After about a minute, Julie opened her eyes, looked around to the left and right, then smiled and closed the door, wondering what she had been thinking about as she had held the door open when she had so much to do before her soapies began.
David grinned, turned and went quickly towards the school, happy with the first day's experiment in what was surely going to be his thesis, knowing the little poem he had taught her was yet to prove its worth in every possible way he could think of.
Julie had David's coffee waiting for him as he walked into her kitchen the next morning. Her husband had left at the usual time, and now she sat waiting for David, dressed in her morning robe, her hair done up in a ponytail, as it always was.
"Hi!" he said, dragging the chair out and sitting on it.
"How can anyone sound so alive first thing in the morning?" she smiled drily.
"I sleep well," David countered, raising the coffee to his lips. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Julie answered. "Busy day?"
"Yep," was all he said.
"Is that your favorite word these days?" she asked.
"Yep," he grinned.
"David. I've been thinking about yesterday, and what... you know... what you did - hypnotize me, I mean."
"And?" David answered, curious.
"Well. Ahh...could you have done that, really? Without my knowing, I mean?"
"Don't be silly," he said, smiling. "You've been watching too many movies."
"Why do you ask?"
"It's just that, well, I've been feeling funny, sort of," Julie said.
"Funny?" he queried.
"It's hard to describe," Julie went on, her brow furrowing. "It's just that I... I feel like... I feel different... somehow."
"I never touched you," David defended with a mock grin as he threw his hands up in the air. "Honest."
"No, it's not that. I don't think. I'm sure I would have remembered that. It's something else, but I can't put my finger on it. That's all. And it's bothering me."
"Now to listen to your greater cause," David said soothingly. Julie's face frowned all over. Her eyes widened, fluttered several times, and then closed. He waited a few seconds, hoping.
"Soon my thoughts will all be yours. Listening now to the soothing sound, awake I'll do as I am bound," Julie began to say the remainder of the poem.
"That's fine," David said soothingly, softly. "You're doing perfectly. And you can nod your head if you've realized that you are now deeply hypnotized again, just like you were yesterday."
He smiled as Julie nodded her head.
"And do you know what your special poem means?" he asked her.
She nodded again.
"You may tell me now with your voice," he instructed her. "What each line means to you as your very own special poem."
"Now to listen," Julie began, with her eyes still shut. "Means, I must listen right now. To my greater cause means that somehow, what I'm listening to is for my own good, the big picture. Soon my thoughts will all be yours, means that somehow we're going to exchange thoughts. Listening now, means the same thing as before. To the soothing sound, means the soothing sound of your voice as you talk to me. Awake I'll do what I am bound, means that when I'm awake and not hypnotized, I'll do what I'm bound to, or told to, I guess."
David grinned. He couldn't have explained it better himself, so he didn't try.
"Count yourself up to ten now, silently, to yourself, and when you reach ten your eyes will open and you'll feel a lot better than you did before I hypnotized you again without you knowing it. And you won't remember a thing of what we've just said except how good you feel all of a sudden. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she answered.
"That's fine. Start counting now."
He watched and waited until her eyelids blinked open several times, then began speaking as if there had been no break in their conversation at all.
"Yes, Jules," David said. "One too many strange movies about hypnotized victims, I think." Then he smiled at her and sipped his coffee.
Julie looked a little confused. Then she shrugged and began to drink her coffee."You actually look a lot better than you did when I first came in," he told her. "Must be the sight of my energy every morning after I arrive that perks you up, or the coffee."
Julie laughed and drained the rest of her coffee. "Want another?" she asked as she got up from her chair and reached for his cup.
"Okay," he said, handing it to her and capturing her gaze as he did so. "And when you come back with it, please come back without any clothes on. Is that clear?"
David's heart was in his mouth. Would it work, or would it not? Julie's eyes flew open instantly. She froze with her hand on his cup, her gaze locked tightly onto his. Her lips were parted as if she had been about to say something, but had then changed her mind.
"Is that clear?" he repeated softly, soothingly.
"Err, no. I mean ... err. yes...sure...I mean .. it's clear," she stammered, her gaze not leaving his for a moment.
"Okay," he smiled. "Off you go then. I'm really looking forward to that coffee. You make wonderful coffee."
He could see her confusion, but he had spoken soothingly and softly, yet firmly and naturally, as if he had asked her to do the most natural thing in the world, one that she shouldn't even be questioning. He released his hand from the cup she had also been holding. Then he looked down at the table and began doodling on the top with his forefinger.
David was aware of her continuing to look at him for several seconds before she slowly turned around and disappeared into the other room. Then he let out the breath he'd been holding. His heart pounded against his rib cage and his mind raced. For all he knew, she could come back with the cops or a gun. Or, she could very well come back completely nude.
Julie returned within a few minutes with two fresh cups of coffee - minus her robe and underwear. She was completely naked as she placed his coffee on the table before him and then sat in her own chair. Her face was deadly serious as she rested her forearms on the table and just sat there staring at him.
"You look absolutely gorgeous," he told her soothingly.
"David," she said suddenly. "Why did you ask me to.. do .. this?"
He looked her square in the eye as he answered.
"Just for fun, to see what you'd say. You know, brighten up your day and all that," he said. "More importantly, why did you do it? You didn't have to. Did you?"
"I ... I didn't want to," Julie answered softly in a hushed tone of voice. "I did, I know, but .. but I didn't want to .. even as I was doing it."
"And how do you feel now?" David asked her. "Really. Be honest."
"David!" Julie exclaimed in a hushed tone. "This isn't right! You know that!"
"Then why on earth did you do it?" he answered her. "Out for some cheap thrills at my expense to brighten up your own boring day at home?"
He regretted it the instant he'd said it. Julie dropped her gaze from his and stared down at the table. The scarlet blush started half-way up her beautiful breasts and just kept right on going before his eyes, but he said nothing. Too late to take it back now, he realised. After a few minutes of silence, Julie looked back up at him, her face a deep blushing red.
"No," she said softly. "It wasn't because of that. It was because you .. because .. you told me to."
"Because I told you to?" David answered her with mock surprise.
"Yes," Julie said softly. "It .. It must be that. Why else would I have done it?"
"Then if I'm to believe you," David said as he looked her square in the eyes. "If I told you, right now, to get up and come around here, and stand with your legs spread wide, that you'd have no hesitation in doing it, even if you didn't want to, just because I told you to do it, right now, without you saying a single word, and just do it?"
"No!" Julie exclaimed. "I didn't mean that! I meant .. I meant . Oh, no! Nooo!"
David watched as Julie slowly rose from her chair and came around to stand beside him. He turned his chair to face her as she adopted a wide-legged stance, her thick and lush flaming red thatch of pubic hair, with its long curly strands of red flame whipping down along each high upper-inside thigh. He couldn't take his eyes off her fiery-looking junction for several long seconds. When he did, he was as hard as a rock of granite.
"Oh, no!" Julie exclaimed softly, but emphatically. "No, David! Please! This is wrong! I'm married! We can't do this!"
David raised his eyes from the apex of her red centre. Hers were wide with confusion. "We are not doing this," he told her soothingly. "You are, and, you did. I didn't. Remember?"
"Yes, but...Ohhh! What's happening to me?" she said in a worried tone.
"I guess you're just doing what you've always wanted to," David replied.
"No!" she answered instantly. "I would never be unfaithful to my husband. Never!"
"Okay," David said. "Then I guess you better go and get dressed, before you do something else you wanted to do, but didn't want to." Then he quickly added, "After you kneel down right now and take me in your mouth as wonderfully as you can."
"No! David! Please! No! I can't!" she implored him, the tears forming rapidly in each of her eyes.
"Well, try and stop yourself then," he told her.
He watched Julie sink slowly to her knees before him, all the while saying she didn't want to and couldn't, but she did anyway. Even when her hands undid his trousers and grasped gently onto his rampant rigidity, she was still saying she couldn't do it. She only stopped talking when she had fed his length into her mouth, taking it as deeply as she could, again and again into the humid depths of her mouth and throat.
David listened to her mumbling as she mouthed him solidly for about ten minutes. When the warning signs were felt, he knew it was time to stop.
"You can stop doing that now, if you want to," he told her. She did instantly. "And you can stand up and turn around, then lower yourself down onto me and move yourself in the most sensuous manner you can imagine, quickly finding that you're going to climax intensely before I do."
"No! David! We can't! Please!" she begged him.
"Then try and stop yourself from doing it," he said.
Julie protested all the while as she slowly got to her feet and turned around, lowering herself down until he felt the girth of his lance resting against the warm, slick lips of her red jade gates. He moaned as the moist heat of her junction drew him further inside her flaming red, slick centre with the lowering of her hips and buttocks down and down and down, until she had fully impaled herself on his entire length and girth. Even between her protests, Julie moaned as he filled her channel to the very back, touching firmly on her cervix when she'd fully settled.
"David! We can't! Ooohh, God!" she continued to protest as her hips and buttocks began an undulating, back and forth, round and round, lifting and rocking motion that threatened to bring him undone within seconds.
"But I want you to like it," he told her soothingly.
Julie ceased her protests instantly and began to moan and groan with each deep penetration her sensuous actions caused.
"Oh, my God!" she moaned. "David! Ooooh, yes! Oooh God! Ooh! Oh! Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! Ooooooooyeeeeeeeeesssss!" she cried as she fired herself down on his spear and ground herself firmly against his impalement as her intense orgasm washed over her from head to toe.
It was all David could do to stop himself from tipping over his own edge as Julie thrashed and ground herself against him, pumping her hips and buttocks rapidly up and down, around and around, back and forth, sheathing herself like a scabbard on its sharp sword, over and over again, until finally, she slumped forward with a deep, guttural groan, her head hanging down, with her hands supporting the weight of her upper torso by resting on her knees. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, and short, sharp pants. David sat very still, trying desperately to deal with his own problem, but extremely glad she had stopped moving.
"Did you like that?" he asked in a soothing voice.
"Ye...yes," she answered in two pants.
"I want you to lift yourself up and lower yourself down slowly again, taking me fully between your buttocks," he told her.
"No! David! No!" she shouted at him defiantly, but was already slowly lifting herself upwards from the base of his lance, even as she protested. He held her buttocks apart, guiding himself by feel as she lowered her hips back down again, until finally she stopped, his already slickened spear resting gently at the tiny tight entrance between the warmth of her two ample, soft cheeks.
"No! David! I don't want to! I've never ... ahhhh!" She cried as she continued to lower herself downwards onto his slippery shaft.
"Ooooooooohhhhhhhnnnnnnnooooooo!" she cried out as she took him fully by length and girth, deeply inside the tight confines of her bottom, finally settling herself fully down, impaled like a pig on a spit. David heard her breathing become ragged again as she started to move slowly around and around in the same rocking and lifting motion as she had when she had plundered her other channel on his long, thick spear.
"Ooooh, god!" Julie cried out as she lifted herself each time, higher and higher, driving herself down a little more firmly each time. "Oooommmyyyygoooooooood!"
"I want you to come now," he told her. And the instant he said that, Julie began to pump herself up and down on the entire fullness of his length, pistonning herself up and down like the engine of a car, racing headlong towards her second powerfully intense orgasm for the morning.Her buttocks twisted left and right, thrashing themselves wildly from side to side as she lifted and rocked herself violently on her impalement like a stuck pig. Then her breathing shuddered. She suddenly slammed herself down hard on his lance and threw her head back, her flaming red hair whipping him painfully across the face.
"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnoooooooo!" she cried as her orgasm overtook her mind and senses. "Oooooooooooooooooooooohhhhhnnnnnoooooooooooo!"
David couldn't believe the tightness of her contracting backside. It was milking him, or trying to, at least, drawing him deeper than it was physically possible for him to go. But he held onto her hips with fingers of steel while Julie had the ride of her life, until once more, she collapsed and sat still, firmly implanted and impaled on his length and girth. David waited until her breathing had calmed. Then he spoke soothingly and softly to her.
"I want you to get up now, then turn around and kneel before me. Then I want you to suck me to completion. And while you're doing it, I want you to have two powerful and intense orgasms all joined together," he told her.
Julie didn't say a word. She lifted herself slowly off his still rigid hardness and knelt before him, taking it swiftly into her warm mouth and deeply down into her throat. Within minutes, David felt the razor sharpness of her teeth as they clamped tightly on his shaft with the rapid arrival of her first orgasm. She sucked and drew him in and out as she writhed with her head impaled now on his lance. He could take it no longer and exploded in time with the arrival of her second intense orgasm. David felt himself emptying deeply inside her throat. His fluids gushed forth in abundance. He felt her jaws and mouth close around him, stripping his length, milking him, draining the vital fluids from his mind as well as his body, until finally, she stripped his softening member with the firmness of her gums and drained him of his last drop.
"I want you to get us both a coffee now," he told her as she sat staring down at the floor after she had settled back on her haunches. "And while you're there, you can put your robe back on and forget any of this ever happened. That way, you'll have nothing to feel guilty or embarrassed about. Then you'll be back to your charming self again. That is what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes," she whispered heavily, without looking up at him.
"And after I go, you can go straight to bed, because you will feel very tired after I leave and will sleep well into the afternoon. But you'll wake up refreshed and feeling the best you've felt in a long while. Is that clear, and is that what you want?"
"Yes," she whispered heavily again. Then she rose tiredly to her feet and walked slowly towards the kitchen.
David dressed himself and waited. Julie was back within five minutes, dressed in her robe, her ponytail back where it had been. She smiled at him as she handed him his coffee.
"Gee, I feel really tired today," she complained as she sat and sipped her coffee.
"Giving your husband too much love, no doubt," David answered her whining with a grin.
"Ha!" she smirked. "No such luck. For me, I mean. He's always working on something or other until late, most nights."
David grinned. "It's hard at the top," he smirked back at her as he finished his coffee. "Have to go. Thanks for the talk. Great, as usual." He then said, rising from his chair.
"What exactly did we talk about this morning, David?" she asked him as she walked him to the door.
"What we always talk about," he answered. "Basically, nothing." Then he laughed, and so did she.
"You didn't do any of that hypno-stuff on me and made me forget it, I hope," she laughed as he passed by her and walked through the door and outside to turn and face her.
"Julie," he said with a smile. "Even if that could be done, do you really think you wouldn't remember it?"
"Not with my memory!" she said confidently.
David laughed as he waved goodbye and walked down her driveway and off to university for the day, wondering if he should give up his studies and become a full-time poet.
Julie shut the door and walked back inside, suddenly feeling very tired. As she dragged herself up the stairs towards her bedroom to have a sleep, she wondered why her bottom felt so sore and tender when she walked. She reached down between her legs and felt herself, noticing for the first time the wetness and warmth. Her brow furrowed as she began to think. Almost simultaneously, she lost the thought of what she was even thinking about as wave after wave of incredible tiredness began to wash over her mind and body from head to toe. It was all she could do to haul her tired, leaden body into the bedroom and flop down, almost asleep before she hit the soft, warm covers. Her last thought was lost to her consciousness as soon as it arrived, just before the sandman closed her eyes and sent her deeply to sleep.
"Hypno-bullshit," was the thought that got lost in Julie's mind before it arrived. "Nobody could be penetrated and not remember it." She sighed, and then fell deeply into the dark abyss of exhausted and very satisfied sleep.
* * *
Another Happy Ending
By Mesmer. | 3 |
4,957 | A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner) | "I can't wait to get this thing off me!" Kathy tugged at the bright orange chastity belt. "I can't believe I've been locked in it since Saturday."
Mommy patted Kathy's stocking-covered knee. "Just be patient, Sweetheart," she idly thumbed through a six-month-old copy of Ladies Home Dungeon, "I'm sure we won't have to wait long."
But Kathy couldn't sit still. She hated waiting rooms, she hated old magazines, and the pain killer the doctor had given her before inserting the butt plug had long since worn off. "This thing's killing me," the blonde girl shifted from one cheek to another as the bulbous rubber stopper pulsed inside her poop shoot.
Christi looked up from her copy of Submissive Bride, "here, this will take your mind off your bottom," she pointed to a photo spread of twin girls bound for matrimony. "Look, matching hers-and-hers wedding gowns with linking clit chains, isn't that neat!"
"I don't care," Kathy pouted. "If the doctor doesn't get me out of this thing soon, I'm not going to give him a blowjob or anything!"
"That's enough," Mommy corrected, "a lady never says 'no'." She stroked her daughter's budding breasts, "I think you'll be singing a different tune when he takes out that nasty old plug."
"I'm sorry, Mommy," Kathy snuggled against the older woman's shoulder, "it's just that it hurts and I'm so hungry. I haven't had anything except soda and semen since Saturday."
"You had me three times last night," Christi teased, "but I guess she-food is pretty low-calorie fare."
"Oh, yeah, and I'm really horny, too," Kathy whined and kicked her feet.
"Well," Mommy kissed her daughter sweetly. "I'm sure we can take care of that little problem, if the doctor doesn't satisfy you first."
"One guy satisfy me?" Kathy's mood brightened, "just whose daughter do you think I am?"
The nurse opened the inner-office door, "Kathy, the doctor will see you now."
"It's about time," Kathy followed the white-clad woman down the hall to the examination room and hopped up on the table.
"Well, hello, Pool Shark." The doctor smiled, zipped his pants and said good-bye to his last patient -- a pretty lady whose face he had decorated with a fashionable swath of frothy white semen. "And how are you doing today?"
"Not as good as you'll be once you get this thing off me." Kathy gave him her best come-hither look. "I'll be happy to thank you any way I can," she cooed, "and my Mommy and my fiancée are here, too, if I need reinforcements."
"Well," the doctor unlocked the chastity belt and slipped it from around Kathy's slender, inviting waist. "I thought you might want to join some friends of mine for a few rounds of miniature golf."
"Hey, wait a minute," Kathy protested. "I got locked in that thing because a bunch of guys used me for a pool table, now you want me to be a putting green?" She winced as he pulled out the catheter then turned around so he could remove the painful plug.
"Well, the balls are a lot smaller and they don't travel nearly as fast," the doctor popped the plug then spread her nether lips for a latex-gloved inspection, "but considering what you've been through you'd probably have more fun being the 19th hole, you know, in the clubhouse."
"Oh, yeah," Kathy smiled, "I'd really like that." She squeezed his probing fingers with her well-toned vaginal muscles. "And I really like, like, like, like your bedside manner," she stammered as the trained medical professional released her pent-up tension and transformed her into a puddle of pleasure on the examining room table.
"Then let's get your mother and your girlfriend and head for the club," the doctor helped the pleasantly pacified girl to her feet.
"One thing, doctor," Kathy paused, "my girlfriend, Christi, was really disappointed when she didn't get to play pool the other night. Do you think she could," she fondled his crotch, "you know, play a few rounds?"
"No trouble at all," the doctor puffed up from the pretty blonde's attention, "after all, I own the course."
Kathy clapped her hands and kissed the handsome man on the cheek. "Oh, thank you doctor, but," she smiled a naughty smile, "I better warn you, she may not want to give the guys their balls back." | 1 |
4,961 | Closet | "Sheila?" She didn't answer. I'd knocked on their back storm door, but there hadn't been any answer. The door was wide open, so I'd opened the storm door and called her. I knew she had to be around. I stepped into the kitchen and peeked into the living room. "Sheila?" Still no answer. The house seemed deserted.
"Yes."
It was her voice, but for some reason, I felt a little confused. Maybe because she waited so long to answer. It came from their bedroom. I had a twinge of doubt about walking into their bedroom, but she had called. The door was almost shut, and I pushed it open.
I froze in horror! Randy, who was standing in the middle of the bedroom, looked at me in surprise. Sheila was in the closet! She was facing into the closet with her wrists tied to the clothes bar and she was completely naked! She had a blindfold on and was wearing earphones. Randy, who was fully dressed, held a whip in his hand!
Randy put his finger across his lips, signaling me to keep quiet. Suddenly, I felt more than horror--I was afraid! What was going on here? "Don't talk too loudly," Randy said quietly.
"Randy!" I hissed. I was afraid. I knew Randy pretty well, or thought I did, but this? She never told me he ever hit her. Had he gone off his rocker?
"Cindy, don't panic!" he said. He seemed about to panic himself. I think he was sensing what I was thinking. "Watch this," he went on.
He walked over to Sheila and indicated to me again to keep quiet. I don't know why, but for some reason, I stood there like a statue. He took off Sheila's earphones. "OK, ready to get down?" he asked her.
"Honey, what's the matter?" asked Sheila.
"Nothing," he answered.
"Aren't... you going to do it? Whip me?"
"Let's stop now."
"No! You can't get ready and then just stop! Please?" I couldn't believe what she was saying. Obviously, this was something they did together. I'd never *heard* of such a thing! Well, I'd heard of it, but never knew anyone who'd do it! Sheila and Randy! My own best friend; my next door neighbors! I guess what I never knew was anyone who ever admitted to doing it.
"Please honey? Don't stop," Sheila went on.
"What do you want me to do?" asked Randy.
"Whip me!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, honey! Please! Now!"
"OK, I'm going to whip you. Two times." He shook out the whip. It was small--actually a riding crop. Then he swung it at her, and it smacked her right on the rear. She let out a groan. Then he repeated it, and she groaned again.
"Did you like that?" he asked.
"Yes!"
"Now what do you want?"
"Whip me again! Please!"
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes! Yes, honey, I'm sure. Again!"
He stood there for a second. "Please honey!" she said.
"Would you like someone to... *see* you get whipped?"
"Oh my god!" she answered.
"How would you like me to get Cindy in here to watch? Would it turn you on to have Cindy in here, watching me whip your rear like that?" She didn't answer. "Would it make you wet? To have Cindy see you like this?" He paused, and the room was silent for a second.
"Yes." Her voice was small.
"Aha! You just think of Cindy right here, and I'm going to whip you two more times! She's going to watch you groan and beg just like you always do."
"Yes!" He didn't answer but swung the whip around again and whipped her rear again. And again. She groaned some more.
"Did you like that?"
"Yes!"
"What would Cindy think of you, begging to be whipped like that and getting off on it?" She didn't answer, but she was breathing louder and louder. After a little while, he looked at me and spoke again: "How would you like Cindy to take the whip and whip you herself? You'd get off on that, wouldn't you?"
"Yes!" came her breathy answer. He smiled and then reached out and took my wrist. He drew me to where he was behind Sheila. He put the whip in my hand.
"OK, this time think of Cindy holding the whip."
"Oh yes!"
"She sees you like this and is thinking about whipping you herself."
"Oh yes, honey! Yes!"
"You'd better ask her to whip you. Ask Cindy."
"Yes! Please whip me!"
"Ask Cindy. Think of Cindy back here."
"OK. Please whip me, Cindy!" I had the whip in my hand. I stared at her.
"Ask her again. Beg her." Randy went on.
"Please whip me, Cindy. Please?" Randy took my hand and guided me into hitting her rear with it. It didn't come out nearly as hard as he had done. He nodded to me to get me to do it again myself. I did it.
"Did you like having Cindy whip you?" asked Randy.
"Yes! Harder! Please honey!"
"Cindy's just learning to use the whip. Thank her and ask her again."
"OK. Thank you Cindy! Please whip me again, harder." Randy nodded to me again. I did it again twice. I got better at it and did it harder.
"Was that better?" asked Randy.
"Yes! More, please, more! Harder!"
"Say please to Cindy."
"Please Cindy!"
"You know, I could kiss Cindy while she's whipping you."
"Oh my god!" she answered. He moved closer to me. I stood there--I should have stopped this. I looked up at him. He lowered his face and touched his lips to mine. Then he smiled and nodded. I whipped her again.
"She kisses nice," he said. "Would you like to kiss her?"
"Oh yes!"
"But now she's just going to whip you. You like Cindy whipping you?"
"Yes! Yes!" I whipped her again.
"I think she's beginning to enjoy whipping you. I think I'll unbutton her blouse." What was I getting myself into?
"Yes!" he answered. His fingers started down the buttons of my blouse.
"She must be excited from whipping you. She's letting me do it. Should I strip her naked?"
"Yes!"
"You want Cindy naked?"
"Yes!" He had my blouse off and was taking off my bra.
"Why? Do you like Cindy's body?" He was quietly unbuttoning my jeans!
"Yes!"
"You want to see it?"
"Yes!"
"Well, you won't see it now." I had just panties on, and he slipped them down to my knees! "But she'll be naked while she whips you!" He nodded to me to whip her again. I was getting better, and sometimes she'd groan when I did it.
"How do you like being whipped by Cindy with her naked?"
"Yes! I *love* it!"
"Right here in this room. Naked. Whipping you."
"Yes!"
"Do you want her to whip you some more?"
"Yes!"
"She's naked. What should I do to her now?" He was fingering my nipple. I was going crazy.
"Fuck her!" I almost choked. I couldn't believe she was saying this.
"What?" Randy asked, obviously playing dumb. His hands were roaming down my body. My clitoris. It was hard to remain standing.
"Fuck her! Fuck her good!"
"You want me to fuck Cindy while she whips you?" He'd grabbed a chair and was sitting right next to me! He was unzipping his pants!
"Yes!"
"Why?" His cock was sticking straight up!
"She *needs* it! She *needs* a hard fucking!"
"Your best friend? You want me to fuck your best friend hard?"
"Yes! Yes!"I was still riding his cock, and his finger was in my rear! I couldn't believe how excited I was, but I'd never had anything there!
"You want my cock in her rear?"
"Yes! Do it good!" His finger pushed further! It was too much! I managed to keep quiet as I came and came.
"You made her come."
"Yes!"
"Would you like her to touch you?"
"Oh god, yes!" Randy lifted me to standing and stood behind me. He guided me close to her. We knelt next to each other right behind her.
"Would you like her to make you come?" He leaned his head next to mine as he talked.
"Yes!" He guided my hand between her legs. My fingers were right on her vagina.
"OK, she's touching you. You like that, don't you?"
"Oh god!" She was coming again. I hadn't done much more than just touch her a little. I was in a daze and just did what Randy had me do. Sheila calmed down again, and Randy drew me away again.
"Cindy has to go now," he said.
"Oh god!"
"You'd better thank her." He had my clothes and pushed them into my hands. I started getting dressed.
"Thank you!"
"Say 'Thank you Cindy'."
"Thank you Cindy!" I was almost dressed.
"OK, she's going to leave now, then I'm going to put you in bed and fuck you!"
"Yes! Oh god yes!" And he guided me out of the room. The door shut behind me. I slipped out the back door and went back home. I must have sat for an hour in a complete daze.
The next day when I saw Cindy, I had trouble keeping from staring at her. The things she said! She was just the same as always, but I stammered several times while we talked. Right before she left, she motioned me to come close and whispered in my ear: "Thank you for yesterday." She smiled at me and left. | 3 |
4,981 | Summer of Sin | "Well, you have been opened fore and aft, and fed upon by some of the glitterati of Paris," Rebecca laughed to me the next morning. "What shall we do for an encore?"
I hugged my pillow. I lay in my bed, defensively. We were home again. Rebecca was up early, decked out in her broad-brimmed hat and a bikini. She was lithe, graceful. She tossed back her brown hair in a carefree way. She gazed down at me. She put her hands on her hips. She was intent on catching the morning rays of the sun out by her pool.
"I don't want to have an encore," I said testily. I knew she wished for me to join her. But I was still sore from the night before. I put my thumb in my mouth. I sucked upon it and closed my eyes.
"Very well," Rebecca said. I heard her heels click upon the floor. She turned, left. I drifted gratefully back into sleep.
That afternoon we went shopping downtown. A collection had been made at the party the night before, in appreciation of our boldness. I enjoyed spending the money.
"Does this make us--" I asked Rebecca, pausing over the word in French, not sure how to pronounce it.
"No, darling," Rebecca assured me. "We are adventurous, but we are not that," she said.
"I hoped we were not," I said, gulping. We were in a hattery. I put a broad-brimmed straw hat upon my head. It was similar to the one Rebecca owned. She adjusted it for me. She tied the ribboned chin strap under my chin.
"You look adorable," Rebecca said.
A young man put some boxes down in a corner of the store, near to where we were standing. We both turned and looked at him. He looked at us. I judged him to be about 19. He smiled. I found his figure extraordinary and couldn't help but smile back. He had broad shoulders, long legs. His hips were trim. There was a bulge in the front of his tight jeans. He wore a plaid shirt but it was undone down the front, displaying a muscled chest and a flat belly. He had hair growing up his belly and over his chest.
"Oh, sorry," the man said. He put his fingers to his shirt and began buttoning it. "It's hot out today," he said.
The proprietress of the store circled back between the hats to where we were standing. I blushed, seeing her, for I knew my eyes betrayed an admiration for her stockboy. She glanced at me, my hat, which was still her hat, for I had not bought it yet. She looked at her boy. She was Rebecca's age. I guessed the young man meant more to her than just someone who labored over her boxes.
"I hope he is not bothering you?" the woman asked.
"Oh, no," Rebecca replied. I remained silent. I lowered my face, letting the hat's brim cover my eyes. From under it I peered at the boy's crotch, surreptitiously. How could he be so big there? Was it just the tightness of the pants? Or had he become excited, seeing me in this hat? I felt guilty looking at his thing but I couldn't help myself. "We shall take the hat," Rebecca said.
"Yes, of course," the proprietress answered. "She looks darling in it."
"Thank you," I whispered from under my hat, still keeping my eyes lowered, looking at the man's crotch.
"Anything else?" the proprietress asked.
"No. The hat will be fine," Rebecca said. "It is how much?" She began to open her purse.
"You needn't open that," the proprietress said. Her hand darted out and caught at the top of Rebecca's handbag. Gently she closed it. Her hand remained atop it, lingering, an unspoken question in the air.
"Oh, but I must pay you," Rebecca said, and tried to open her purse again. The proprietress' fingers kept it shut.
"There are any number of ways to pay for the necessities of life," the proprietress said. "And money is, I think, the most boring of all."
"Oh!" Rebecca said, gasping a little. The proprietress forced her purse closed. She did not try to open it again.
"I live on Bourbon Street," the proprietress said. "Number 25. I should be honored if she would wear the hat to tea. Three o'clock, perhaps? Tomorrow?" She glanced at the boy. "Johnnie, do you have classes tomorrow?"
"Only in the morning," Johnnie said.
"Good," the proprietress said. "You will report to my home after your classes. Call Maria and have her tend the store."
"What do you think?" Rebecca asked. She turned to me. I lifted my eyes. I wondered if I was still blushing. My eyes met the young man's and I smiled.
"I want to see all the different things in Paris," I said coyly. My eyes dropped to the man's crotch and then lifted quickly, guiltily, and looked into the face of the proprietress. She smiled.
"I shall expect you both at three then," the proprietress said. "My name is Helene. And yours?" she asked, turning her face to Rebecca.
"Rebecca," my aunt replied. "And this is Chloe."
"Ah, a lovely name," Helene said. "Johnnie, do not put the boxes there. Put them up front, by the register," Helene said, turning to the stockboy. He nodded. He bent over and I watched his buttocks tense in his jeans. He had a broad back and it spread over the boxes. His muscled arms scooped them up. He turned, grinned at myself and Rebecca, and then sauntered through the racks of hats up to the front of the store.
"Is he your boyfriend?" Rebecca asked Helene. "He is quite gorgeous."
Helene nodded. "Yes, I just met him," she said. "He is from the Czech Republic. I invited him to claim my address as his own so he could attend the University. At domestic rates," she said.
"Oh," Rebecca said. "That was kind of you."
"Yes," Helene said. "Your friend. She is an American?"
"Yes," Rebecca said. "She is staying with me just for the summer."
"She looks lovely in her new hat," Helene said.
"Thank you again for letting us have it," Rebecca said.
"She was made for it," Helene said. "Tomorrow, then?" she asked, for the store's bell rang at the front door, announcing the entry of a customer.
"Yes, of course," Rebecca said.
We continued our shopping. I enjoyed my hat. It kept the sun off my face. I bought a ring with a diamond at another store. We ate a late lunch and then went home.
That night we went dancing. We did not stay out late. When we came home we both went gratefully to bed. I was glad to be sleeping by myself. Yet as I drifted off I wondered about tomorrow's tea. I felt a strange excitement. I guessed I might fall asleep tomorrow evening somewhere else, perhaps at 25 Bourbon Street.
He met us at the door. Rebecca and I were outfitted in short dresses. My own fitted me like a corset. It hugged my middle. It was elaborately tied in back. Bra cups covered the lower curves of my breasts, just barely containing my nipples. The jellied mounds of my breasts bounced in the cups, their tops bared. The white flesh of my mounds caught Johnnie's eyes as he opened Helene's front door. I blushed. He smiled. My shoulders were nude, as was my back, down to where the dress hugged me with corset-like firmness. I was slipped as if into a vise, bare-legged, bare-shouldered, with my dress crossing behind the small of my back and covering my flat belly. Twin spaghetti straps tied behind my neck kept the cups over my breasts from falling away. A very short skirt, flaring out from the bodice of my dress, just managed to cover my bottom. I wore no stockings. But I did wear my new ring that I'd bought, plus a pair of high-heels. Around my ankles, the same color as my black dress, were two leather ankle straps. On my head was my straw broad-brimmed hat.
Rebecca was dressed like me. She wore her straw hat. The sun glared down on us, excusing our skimpy attire. It was summer. We could dress salaciously without making a scene.
Johnnie, for his part, was nude, save for a pair of Speedoes.I guessed he must have been swimming or, since his hair was dry, about to. I wondered at this, for were we not to have tea? I hoped he would join us. Johnnie grinned. He invited us inside.
We stepped into a parlor. It had ornate decorations. Johnnie closed the front door behind us. As soon as he had, he put his thumbs in his swimsuit. He yanked it down off his hips, exposing his cock. He stepped out of it. He hung it on a peg on the wall.
"I have to wear that to answer the door," Johnnie said to us. We blushed. We gazed at his thing. It was huge. It quavered stiffly on the air, in time to his pulse. "I hope you don't mind," Johnnie said, glancing from us down to his cock. "It's not my idea, going nude. Helene insists. 'Mistress' actually, is what I call her, in her home. She takes care of me and I perform various... services," Johnnie said. He looked at us. He offered his brawny arm to Rebecca. "May I escort you to tea?" he asked. "I am no slouch in good-mannered gallantry, even if I am required to walk around without any clothes on."
"Yes," Rebecca said, putting a hand to her lips. "Yes," she said again. She let Johnnie take her arm. "Come, Chloe," she whispered to me.
Johnnie's cock bobbed in front of him, like some obscene fleshy log, as he led Rebecca by her arm to the back of the house. Helene was there, sitting on an enclosed porch. Big trees in her back yard kept prying eyes from seeing Johnnie's display. She sipped tea from an ivory teacup.
"Hello, girls," Helene said. "My, you dress wonderfully. And such nice hats! Please sit down. I hope Johnnie didn't scare you? I prefer him naked in this summer heat. It keeps him cooler," she said.
I wondered at that. Her home was air conditioned, though the porch, being screened in, let in some of the summer heat. The glass doors leading out to the porch were drawn back, letting the air conditioned interior of the home cool the porch as well. It was wasteful, but elegant, I thought. The porch would have been too hot with the glass doors closed. The day was too fine to have tea inside.
Johnnie seated Rebecca at the table, then myself. He had to be careful not to let his cock jut against our bottoms. I put my hands under my seat to get my dress under me, but it was too short, and I found myself sitting in my panties directly on the chair. Its seat was made of wrought iron, painted white.
"Johnnie, get some cushions for them to sit on. The seats are too hard," Helene said to our escort. "Really, I told you to do that earlier," she scolded.
"Yes, mistress," Johnnie said. He went into the house and came out a moment later with two lace cushions. He put them on a side table, where flowers stood in a vase. Then he picked up one and bade me lift up my bottom so he could get it under me. I complied. Blushingly I admired his naked cock as his strong hands fitted the cushion under my ass. I sat down too quickly, sitting on his hands. I let out a small cry and lifted my seat again. He adjusted the cushion, removed his hands out from under me, and told me to sit. I did. The cushion was soft. There was lace trimming around its edges.
Johnnie placed a cushion under Rebecca's fanny. She smiled. She adjusted herself on her new seat and tossed back her hair. Helene poured her tea, then me, passing the cups to us.
"Mmm, it's good," Rebecca said. She sipped her tea. "Orange Pekoe."
"Yes, it's perfect for summer, is it not?" Helene asked. "Johnnie, dear, why don't you have a tie on? Go put on a tie for these young ladies here."
"Oh, there is no need," Rebecca said.
Johnnie left, then returned a moment later. A black bow tie was tied skillfully round the base of his cock. The bow part of it faced up, toward his chest. I gasped. Rebecca, beside me, gasped. His thing was extraordinarily long and, despite the tie at its base, it still stuck out usefully a good ten inches or so, providing plenty of meat for a girl who wished to pleasure herself with it.
"It is nice, decorated that way, is it not?" Helene asked us. "And there is so much of him, one does not compromise its essential functions, doing it."
"No, one does not," Rebecca agreed. She gulped at her tea.
"It is essential that I see the male penis displayed," Helene said. "For my business."
"Your business?" Rebecca asked.
"Oh, I did not tell you?" Helene asked. She drew Johnnie toward her, clasping at his cock with her fingers. Instinctively he knew, somehow, to refill her cup with tea, and when he had, using a big silver pitcher on the table, he picked up a pitcher of cream and added a dollop of it to her cup. Then she took his cock and dipped the tip of it in her cup. She stirred her tea with the big knobby head of his dick. Mostly just the pee-holed tip of his cock touched her tea, for if his whole head had been plunged in it would have spilled all the tea from her cup. "Give me a bit of your pre-cum, Johnnie," Helene said. She squeezed lightly on his veined shaft. Johnnie tensed his bottom cheeks. He uttered a slight groan. "Yes, that's it," Helene said. She lifted the tip of his hard cock out of her tea and watched as a big dollop of pre-seminal fluid oozed out of Johnnie's penis. It plopped into her cup. "Mmmm," Helene said. She brought the warm tea to her lips and sipped it. "He has such fine control," she said. She let go of his cock. "Give our guests some, too," she told Johnnie.
"Oh, I--" Rebecca said. But Johnnie took her cup and, not allowing her to let go of it, drew it to his crotch. He dipped his cockhead into it. He winced slightly at the heat of the tea, then stirred her tea with his knob.
"Pre-cum, madam?" Johnnie asked.
"Yes, please, if it doesn't take too much out of you," Rebecca said. She regarded him with awestruck eyes.
Helene stood. She walked round behind Rebecca and put her fingers through Rebecca's hair. She touched her neck. She loosened the ties there, the ties that held up the front of Rebecca's dress.
"Oh!" Rebecca gasped.
"He must be inspired a little," Helene said. I watched in amazement as Rebecca's bra cups were loosened. They were part of her dress, yet separate, in a sense, for loosening the cups did nothing to lighten the tightness of the corset-like bodice of the dress around Rebecca's middle. The cups fell away. Rebecca's breasts spilled out. Their tips were cherry red, and hard, in contrast to the jellied mounds themselves, which were white and soft. Johnnie gaped at Rebecca's breasts. They were quite lovely, and the sight of them caused his dick to deposit a droplet of pre-cum into Rebecca's cup.
"You also," Helene said, coming round the table to me.
"Oh, I do not want--!" I blurted, my tea cup hovering at my lips. I held it delicately. I wished to be ladylike.
"Do not protest. It is summer," Rebecca smiled at me. She watched approvingly as Helene undid the strings at my neck, causing my bosoms to pop from my dress. They jiggled freely. I felt the warm air upon them, cooled by the outflow of air from the house, and their tips stood up. Johnnie was brought round to me and I was forced by the intervention of Helene's hand to offer my cup to him. We held it together as he drooled a droplet of pre-cum into my tea.
"It will add to its flavor," Helene assured me.
"And provide a taste of what is yet to come?" I asked, lifting my eyes to her. I asked innocently, though it caused Rebecca and Helene to laugh.
"You are wearing panties at the moment, my dear," Helene said. "Perhaps you should take them off if you wish to enjoy Johnnie more fully."
"Oh, no. I do not wish to," I said, quickly sipping my tea.
"It is hot," Rebecca said. She put down her tea. She lifted her hips. She slipped her hands within the abbreviated folds of her dress and pulled down her panties.
"Yes, it is," Helene agreed. Standing behind me, she did the same, pulling down her own panties and stepping out of them. They were white. Rebecca's were black. "Put them on the table so he can see them," Helene said. "It will inspire him more."
The two women placed their panties on the table as if offering silky gifts to Johnnie, though he was only our servant, an immigrant from the Czech Republic. He stared at them. I saw a quiver of a smile pass across his lips. Then it faded. A slightly haunted look came to his eyes. I wondered at it. Wasn't he delighted to have three females at his disposal?
Helene returned to her seat. Rebecca settled back into hers. Helene tossed back her head. She had long hair, fetchingly curled so that it formed a mane of loose curls that tumbled round her face and down over her shoulders. There was a blue ribbon tied into the back of her hair, in a bow. She wore no hat, as if hats were reserved for younger girls, like myself, to make me look sweet and childish. She had on a blue silk shirt with a high collar. It had long sleeves. Through it I could just make out the areoles of her breasts. They perked their nipples into the fabric of the shirt now as she sat sipping her tea once more, regarding our naked bosoms and Johnnie's bare cock. She wore a miniskirt round her waist. Her legs were encased in white silk stockings that gripped her thighs, not needing garters to keep them aloft. Between the tops of her stockings and the hem of her skirt, her legs were bare. She opened them, not wearing panties anymore, her muff free to rub itself on the lace-trimmed cushion upon which she was sitting. Rebecca, also without panties now, wiggled a little on the deep cushion on which she sat.
"It is pleasant, is it not, going without panties?"Helene asked Rebecca. My aunt smiled.
"It is very pleasant, yes," Rebecca said. "And cooler too."
I looked again at Johnnie's eyes. He glanced at Helene's tummy. It was bare, flat. Her shirt was purposely too short to cover it, though her sleeves were too long for her arms, the cuffs of them covering her hands out to her knuckles. Helene smiled.
"I work him hard," Helene said to Rebecca. The two women shifted their legs wider apart, letting the cool air from the house find their moistening slits between their legs. I longed, suddenly, to be without my own panties. I wanted to expose my quim. How delightful to sit bare-bottomed upon the expensive lace seat cushion! To let it moisten with my pussy's juices.
I reached within my dress. I waited for Johnnie's roving eyes to move away from me. He was admiring us all, as any male would, yet I sensed still that haunted look in his eyes. He looked from Helene's tummy to my breasts, then to the breasts of my aunt. I lifted my bottom and slid my panties down my thighs.
"Oh, she is doing it!" Helene said. All eyes darted to me. My privacy disappeared. I blushed, my panties ringing my knees. I contemplated, briefly, pulling my panties back up. I did not have to undress. Then the sinfulness of the moment, the feel of the pretty cushion pressed to my naked ass, got the better of me. I succumbed. With a glance at Johnnie's big cock, I drew my panties down over my knees and let them drop to my ankles.
"Take her panties, please, Johnnie, and put them on the table, where we can see them," Helene said. The young man strode over to me. Despite the haunted look in his eyes, his cock bounced jauntily. He bent down. I gave a small cry as he grabbed the panties ringing my ankles. He forcibly picked up my feet. He disentangled the panties from my spiked heels. He walked over to Helene, holding them in his hand. He gave them to her. She held them up and admired them. They were small, pink. They had pretty red ribbons along their sides.
"Yes," Helene said. She looked at me, then at Rebecca. She smiled. There was a vengefulness in her eyes. She tugged at the panties, hard.
"Oh, do not rip them!" I cried. I heard a tearing sound. They were expensive panties, made without the gusset. There was no extra layer of lining where my pussy lips pressed against the fabric. I watched as the crotch of my panties ripped open. Then, still pulling, biting her lip slightly, Helene ripped my undies even more. I felt tears spring to my eyes.
Helene dropped my ruined panties on the table. Her nipples were quite stiff now, pushing into the fabric of her shirt like twin bits of coral. I feared the stiffness of the tips might put holes in her shirt. My own nipples, I realized, blushing as I felt tears on my face, were just as hard. Did I like being denuded, my panties publicly torn apart? I looked at Johnnie. Perhaps I hoped he would somehow rescue me from this indignity. Instead I saw a flicker of a smile cross his lips again. Then he licked them. Pre-cum drooled from the tip of his cock and fell on the floor of the screened-in porch. Rebecca, surprised by Helene's violence toward my panties, now let herself relax once more and smiled at me.
"You will not need them, dear," Rebecca said.
"But when we go home?" I asked. Rebecca looked into her teacup and said nothing. After a moment, she sipped her tea. "It is delicious," she said to Helene.
Our hostess reached across the table to where Rebecca's panties lay. She plucked them from the table with her fingers. They had long nails. Rebecca gulped. Her own panties were without a gusset and Helene stressed them now, pulling at them, until the crotch of them ripped wide apart. Then Helene dropped them on the table and picked up her own panties. Despite the expensiveness of the fabric, she pulled at them until they tore open at the crotch. Then she pulled on them some more, until one of the frilled sides gave way completely, leaving her panties a stringy, useless wreck. She dropped them back on the table.
"There," Helene said. "Now we are all bereft, and can enjoy the freedom of our pussies. Is it not nice, to spread one's legs and let the air intrude between them?" She looked at Rebecca. She put her hand between her legs and diddled her cunny with a pointed finger. Rebecca watched, wide-eyed, as Helene masturbated. So did I. The table hid the indecency of the act but there was no doubt at all where Helene had put her hand, for almost at once she gave a convulsive shudder. Then she sighed. "Ooooh," she said. "That feels so good. It is summer and a girl should be able to sit outdoors, bare-bottomed, and give herself a bit of pleasure if she wishes, don't you think?" Helene asked.
"Yes," Rebecca agreed. She was, I think, trying to be polite, agreeing with our hostess, but Helene took her at her word.
"Then do it yourself, my dear," Helene said. "There's no reason to be shy. No one can see. And we needn't feel like lesbians, for we have a man with us, to admire our suffering."
Rebecca glanced at Johnnie. I watched as Rebecca put down her teacup on the table. Then her hand left the table. It slipped, I knew without seeing, down between her legs. Rebecca jerked, her breath catching, as her finger touched her aroused slit.
"Oh, yes!" Rebecca said.
"It is pleasant, yet it makes you wish for even more, does it not?" Helene asked Rebecca.
"Yes," Rebecca agreed.
"That is why I call it suffering," Helene said. "It is sweet to suffer this way, playing in one's slit, especially with a man so near."
"Yes," Rebecca sighed. I gazed at them both, wide-eyed. I held my teacup aloft, too surprised to drink from it, or to put it back down on the table. Helene looked at me.
"You too," she said.
"Oh, no!" I answered. For I knew the moment I started, I would be unable to stop. I would shiver with ever-increasing need until I begged to be taken.
"Yes," Helene said. Her eyes looked at me with a hardness in them. I shuddered. I felt myself wanting, between my legs. I dropped my hand to the cushion, between my thighs, and flicked a finger toward my nest. "Touch yourself," Helene ordered.
"Oh, please don't make me!" I cried. Yet Helene sat across the table from me, unable to reach over to where I was sitting. Her eyes alone commanded. "Please don't make me," I said again.
"Chloe, be a good girl," Rebecca told me.
"By being bad?" I asked.
Rebecca smiled. "Yes, by being bad, dear," she said. Then she emitted an involuntary sigh as her own doings caused her to suffer the pangs of desire.
I looked at Johnnie. First at his penis, then up at his eyes. Now I knew why they looked haunted. He was never free from Helene's sexual plottings. She worked his cock like this every day, teasing him, making him use his tool again and again to serve her pleasure. And it was perverse, the way she used him, making him be naked, using his dick to stir her tea. I had no doubt there were many other tasks she had him perform, every day. And always, if it could possibly be done that way, she made him perform his jobs with his penis. This in addition to the normal round of fucking I knew she must demand from him every night. He was a walking dong, in her house. Always he had to keep himself erect and vulnerable. The rest of his body, though it was gorgeous, mattered little in comparison to his cock. Helene smiled.
"Johnnie, have you watered the plants?" she asked.
"No, mistress," Johnnie answered. "Not yet."
"Please do so," Helene said.
"Yes, mistress," Johnnie replied. There were plants on the porch and Johnnie turned and walked to the nearest one. It was a rose bush. He put his hands on his hips. He thrust his cock carelessly into the mass of thorned branches that made up the bush. I watched, my breath catching, fearing he might pierce himself on a thorn. But he did not, thankfully, and a moment later, as I watched his buttcheeks tighten, I heard a hissing sound.
Johnnie urinated on the bush. We all watched. Helene licked her lips. Involuntarily my finger found my dell and massaged it. I heard myself gasp.
"That's enough, Johnnie," Helene called out. I heard the flow of urine stop, abruptly. Johnnie's asscheeks squeezed hard. He flexed his torso. I guessed he was flinging spare drops of urine into the plant, so they would not fall on the floor and be wasted. Then he turned. His big penis, still tied with the bow, presented itself to us again. "Do the others," Helene told Johnnie.
"Yes, mistress," Johnnie agreed. He walked over to a poinsettia and began urinating anew, into the pointy leaves. After a bit he stopped the flow of his urine again, squeezing his buttcheeks tightly. Then he walked over to a spray of narcissus flowers, growing in a clay pot. He aimed his cock at them and let his urine on them. Finally he turned and walked over to a cluster of tulip blossoms. He filled the flowered cups with his urine, overspilling them, making them bend under their newfound load and droop toward the earth. "I have no more... in my bladder," Johnnie said to Helene, turning toward us again. I gazed at his balls, bulging with virile firmness between his legs. Would she make him jerk himself off on the remaining plants? I shivered. I felt my finger intruding in my dell but had not the will to stop it. I dithered it over my clitoris and let out a moan.
"Come here, Johnnie," Helene commanded our servant. He walked over to her, his cock a big sausage of flesh that bobbed freely with his every step. Droplets of urine flew off the tip, the last errant remnants of his watering.Helene clutched at the head of his cock and inspected it. She put her teacup to it and gently submerged the tip in the hot tea. Johnnie tensed at the touch of the warm fluid to his cock. Helene bathed the end of Johnnie's cock in her cup of tea to cleanse it of pee. When she lifted the end of Johnnie's cock out of her cup, she waited until all the tea had dripped off it. Then she put the big knobby head to her lips and sucked briefly upon it. Johnnie groaned. "I shall expect you to service our guests as eagerly and thoroughly as you serve me, Johnnie," Helene said to the man, not looking up at his face, however, but keeping her eyes on his cock, addressing his pee hole.
"Yes, mistress," Johnnie said.
"You must make every effort to satisfy them," Helene told the man, still looking at his cock as she spoke.
"Yes, mistress," Johnnie said. The haunted look returned to his eyes, though he smiled, slightly.
Helene looked at me. I gazed at her, my finger between my legs under the table, diddling my slit. I gave a sigh as my finger, paying attention to my nubbed clit, made it hunger for even greater attention. "Stand up," Helene said. I drew my shoulders together. I crouched a little, recalcitrant, for I did not want to stop playing with myself, and did not want to be seen doing it, either. "Stand up," Helene told me again.
With a great sigh, I leaped to my feet. I plucked my hand from my dell, only to put it back again, so great had my need suddenly become. With my pussy above the level of the table, I freely fingered myself, uncaring that they all could see what I was doing to myself. At the same time, I told myself that I was hiding my cunt from their view, for my hand was over it, though one of my fingers was inquiring up within it.
"Turn around," Helene told me. I gave a sigh of relief. Of course! If I turned around, they would see only my too-short miniskirt, just covering my bottom, and not see the front anymore, where my hand, intruding in my dell, caused my skirt to rise and display my furred mount. I turned on my spiked heels. As I offered them a view of my bottom, I frigged myself more freely. I didn't have to worry about hiding my nakedness now. I sighed as my questing finger delved deep in my lips. Helene's next words shocked me.
"Lift her skirt in back," she told Johnnie. "I want to see her ass."
The man strode over to me. I glanced over my shoulder at him, still too hungry for something up my twat to spare it the touch of my finger. As I diddled myself, he gallantly lifted the back of my skirt, baring my bottom. Helene, sitting across the table, nodded.
"It is a sweet tush," she said approvingly. "It has still the pertness of a child's bottom, the cheeks sticking out, while yet having the bell-shaped fullness of a woman." Helene looked at Rebecca. "It is especially lovely that, even with the filling out of her hips, her ass is still small. I have a taste for spanking small bottoms. May I do hers? I promise I would soothe it afterward."
"She would look quite salacious wiggling it all about under the lash," Rebecca agreed. Then she bit her lip and gasped as her finger, playing in her slit, brought her a new tremor of pleasure.
"Yes, it would be delightful," Helene said. She too gasped, thinking of paddling me as she played in her dell. As for myself, despite the wickedness of the proposal, I couldn't stop frigging myself!
"What... implements would you use?" Rebecca gasped to Helene.
"A good sturdy paddle," Helene answered. "She would have to be tied down, of course. I wouldn't want her running around the house. She might break something."
"Of course," Rebecca said.
"You both arrived wearing ankle straps," Helene said. "They're quite sexy looking. Did you intend just to tease, or...?"
"Perhaps not just to tease," Rebecca replied with a fevered sigh.
"Good. I had hoped not," Helene said. "If the moment is right, perhaps you both will get to use them for their intended purpose," Helene said to Rebecca. "Not just for decoration, but for their utility in rendering one immobile."
"Yes," Rebecca gasped. She was quite excited by the playing of her finger in her cunt by now, as was I. We no longer had the good sense to say no to such silly ideas. I felt the air upon my bare bottom and shivered.
"Tear off her dress," Helene told Johnnie.
"No!" I cried. But before I could think how to save myself, Johnnie, who was very strong, ripped the skirt of my dress off the corset-like bodice. A moment later I wore only the middle part of my dress, the cups of it undone from my breasts, the back torn away to permanently reveal my bottom. | 2 |
4,997 | It's Hard to be a Man | "And I thought I couldn't be surprised anymore," Amanda said, shell-shocked. She turned to Abigail, who was negotiating her car back towards her shop. "Are you sure of this?"
"Yes!" Abigail replied for the third time. "I wouldn't have pulled you out from your office like that if I wasn't certain."
"I just can't believe it. Patrick and Hank together...having sex. And he doesn't want to break the curse?"
"It's...worse than that. He wants to stay female and marry Hank."
"MARRY HANK!?!" Amanda almost screamed.
"Ow! Mind my eardrums!"
"Sorry." Amanda tried to find something coherent to say. "Neither Hank nor Patrick are the marrying type. Why did Patrick change his mind so fast?"
"He's been trying to control his new body all week. Like someone driving a new car they can't quite handle yet. Unfortunately, he crashed before he could get enough experience, and now he's wandering around in shock."
"He's not the only one." Amanda tried to digest all she had been told. "So you think this is his reaction to making love as a woman? But why settle on Hank of all people? He's almost as bad as Patrick is, or was."
"Perhaps he's acting the way he believes the ideal woman should?" Abigail suggested.
"Serves him right if he is." Amanda rubbed her forehead. Now she was getting a migraine. "So what are we going to do?"
"Simple," Abigail replied, "we carry on with the ritual as planned. Patrick doesn't have to do much more than simply be there for it to work."
"Which in his current state is the absolutely last place in the world he'll want to be," Amanda pointed out. "How do we get him there and keep him there?"
"That's...something we're going to have to work on." Abigail replied uncertainly.
Susan knocked on the door of the bathroom cubicle. "Ian," she called, "are you okay?"
"W-what are you doing in the men's room?" came a small voice from inside.
"I came to check if you were alright. You've been in there for twenty minutes!"
"I'm...ah...fine. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up soon."
"Okay, Ian." Susan replied. What the hell was up with him? she thought. "Me and Becky will see you back at the office. Are you sure everything is okay?"
"Yep, everything is fine!" Ian replied, trying to sound upbeat, but only managing to sound terrified. He relaxed slightly as he heard Susan walk from the room.
At least he wouldn't have to go out there and face Patrick again. How had his boss done the impossible and turned himself into a woman? Did Hank know he was sleeping not with Patrick's cousin, but with Patrick himself? Probably not, Hank and Patrick were friends, but not that sort of friends.
Ian's mind drifted back to the previous Monday night when he had seen Patrick do the impossible. His boss had been down an alley in a small occult bookshop when he had changed sex. Ian was certain that was not a coincidence. Maybe it was run by a witch and she had done it to him. The idea seemed stupid, but no more absurd than what he had seen with his own eyes.
He decided the coast was clear and cautiously opened the stall door. The men's room was deserted. He quickly moved over to the washroom door and looked into the restaurant. By opening the door a crack he could see where he, Susan and 'Becky' had been sitting. Someone else was sitting there now.
Ian slipped back into the restaurant and headed for the exit, checking all around himself for his boss. Back on the street he tried to decide where to go. He couldn't head back to the office, because Patrick would be there.
Perhaps he should check out that shop. Find out what happened to Patrick, and maybe find a way to reverse what had been done to him.
It was a short walk to the shop. Looking in through the window at the piles of occult and New Age books Ian was beginning to question his judgement. What if whatever had been done to Patrick was done to him?
He opened the door and jumped three feet in the air when it triggered a little bell. He stood dead still as he waited to see if anyone would answer it.
After several heartbeats he convinced himself that no-one was coming and edged into the shop. He had to find something to help Patrick. Carefully he looked around the small bookshop. It was impossible to tell if any of the books was of any use. He didn't know which ones carried the information he needed.
He looked behind the counter. Perhaps the witch kept her important stuff there.
"Back away from the cash register," came a voice. A female voice.
Ian turned in horror to see a woman standing halfway up a narrow flight of stairs. She had red hair and was dressed like a cross between a gypsy fortune teller and a hippy. "Don't turn me into a woman!" he screamed and dived behind the counter.
Abigail frowned. That was not the normal reaction of a thief. "What did you say?"
"I recognize that voice," said Amanda behind her. "It's Ian, isn't it? You work with Patrick."
Ian carefully poked his head above the counter. He recognized the second woman as well. "You're Patrick's latest girlfriend."
"Latest ex-girlfriend," she corrected him. Amanda moved towards him and he ducked down. "Look it's alright. We're not going to do anything to you. We're trying to cure Patrick before he gets into any more trouble."
Ian's head popped up again, "Really?"
"Really. Come on upstairs and we'll explain."
Ian decided he couldn't risk running in case the red-haired woman really was a witch. Perhaps if he played it cool he'd be okay. Reluctantly he followed them upstairs.
Patrick was in seventh heaven as he walked around the shop. He had spent the last three quarters of an hour getting a makeover and trying out various cosmetics.
He had sat around the office for a while after he and Susan had got back from the restaurant. Hank was really too busy to pay much attention to him, but Patrick wasn't annoyed. At least he was close to the man he loved.
After an hour, Hank had suggested Patrick should do a little shopping or something. It'd be much better than hanging around a boring office waiting for him to finish work. Hank gave Patrick a hundred dollars as spending money and told him to get something nice.
Patrick didn't need the money at all, but as far as Hank knew he was an unemployed girl come to the city to look for a job. He made a show of trying to refuse the money before accepting it. He made Hank promise to come around to his apartment as soon as he finished work. Hank only agreed when he was convinced that 'Becky' would be there alone.
Patrick had no problem about taking Hank's money. After all, a husband was supposed to support his wife. Wife. He rolled the word around his mind as he collected his purchases and set off for the clothing section of the store. He was going to be Hank's wife!
He spent nearly all of Hank's money on a bottle of perfume with a French name. He still had a few hours to kill before Hank finished work. What better way to spend that time, he thought, than in shopping for clothes.A woman couldn't have too many clothes, and the ones they had here were so sexy it made his body tingle. Being a woman was such fun!
Quite a while later, Patrick had trouble holding on to all of his purchases as he made his way to his car. He tripped and almost went flying. Wearing high heels took a lot of effort, and he wasn't nearly good enough in them yet. He loaded his new clothes and cosmetics into the back of his car and gratefully settled into the driving seat. His legs ached due to his shoes. How did women put up with those things? Well, he'd just have to work at it until he got it right. The idea of not wearing high-heeled shoes simply did not occur to him.
He hadn't mastered the art of driving in them yet either, so he removed them before he headed back to his apartment. It was nearly 4:00 PM before he finally made it home. It was still a couple of hours before Hank would finish work. Still, he could use that time to get ready.
Patrick could tell something was wrong the second he opened the door of his apartment. He stood still for a moment, straining to hear any noise that might be coming from his apartment. "Who's there?" he called.
Amanda stepped into the entrance hall and headed over to him. "I let myself in."
Patrick gave a relieved smile. "I thought I was being robbed for a moment." He dropped his purchases off in his bedroom and then headed back to the main room.
"We need to talk," his ex-girlfriend said.
"No, we don't." Patrick replied. "I suppose Abigail told you of what I was planning?"
Amanda nodded, "And I think I was more shocked than her. The Patrick I knew would never do this, would be horrified even to contemplate it."
"Maybe," Patrick said, "but I'm not Patrick anymore. I'm Rebecca! Hank's girlfriend. Before too long I'll be his wife!"
"Patrick, that is not you talking! You've had an extreme shock and this is your mind trying to compensate. You need help."
"I'm not mad!" Patrick replied hotly. "I know exactly what I'm doing!"
"I'm not saying you're mad," Amanda replied, already in danger of losing her temper. "You'll thank us for this later."
Patrick stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Us?" He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Abigail emerge from the kitchen.
"I'm not happy about doing this either," she said, "but there is no other way. Ian, secure the door."
Yet another figure emerged from the kitchen and started edging around the three women.
Now Patrick was angry. "What right did you have to tell Ian?!"
"He worked it out for himself," Abigail replied. "Go on Ian."
Ian gave Patrick a wide berth and then headed down to the front door.
Patrick folded his arms under his breasts and glared at the two other women. "So what now?"
"Now we keep you here until past midnight." Abigail replied. "Then we perform the ritual and break the curse."
Patrick took a step back. "No! You can't do this! What right do you have to break up this wonderful thing me and Hank have?!" He stabbed a finger at Amanda. "You're just jealous. You're only doing this because I jilted you for Hank!"
"Dear God," Amanda exclaimed. "He's even more egotistical than when he was a man. Let's get him into the bedroom."
Amanda and Abigail moved forward as one and grabbed an arm each. Together they started to pull Patrick towards his bedroom. He wasn't going quietly and was fighting them every step of the way.
"Come on Ian!" Amanda called, "Give us a hand."
Ian had been standing dumbly watching the fight unfold. He was still trying to digest the story he had been told. He was glad at least that Patrick had confirmed the story was true in the way he had acted towards Abigail and Amanda.
He moved towards Patrick and tried to work out where he could hold him and cause the least embarrassment to either of them. It was really disturbing him how much Patrick's new form was attractive to him. His boss really did make a very sexy woman.
Ian waited until he was sure he wouldn't get kicked and then grabbed Patrick's legs. Ian's boss struggled and cursed, but the three working together could just hold him.
"What do we do with him?" Ian asked as he held on to Patrick's shapely legs desperately. His head was pressed against Patrick's stomach, and he tried to ignore how close he was to his boss's feminine crotch.
"Into his bedroom," Amanda replied.
They manhandled Patrick into his own bedroom. While Amanda and Ian held him down on the bed, Abigail gathered a few of the belts from the large pile of female clothes he had bought.
The belts made good straps, and they soon had his hands and feet tied around the legs of the bed. Patrick was stuck spread-eagled and was unable to move.
He glared up at his captors, "When I get out of this I'm going to fucking kill every last one of you!"
"Well," remarked Amanda, "at least some of the old Patrick is still in there. You keep quiet or we'll gag you."
"I really am sorry about all this, Patrick." Abigail told him. "I wish it hadn't come to this, but you will thank us for this later."
Patrick just glared angrily at her.
She looked away, "Yes, well. Amanda, you and I need to start preparing for the ritual. You need to be word perfect when we do it for real." She turned to Ian, "You stay here and keep an eye on Patrick."
"Me?" Ian said worriedly.
"There's no-one else who can. Amanda and I are going to be busy. You'll be okay."
The two women headed back to the main room to prepare for the ritual. Ian avoided Patrick's gaze and sat down in a chair.
Ian was beginning to regret ever getting involved over the mystery of Patrick's transformation. It was far too late to back out now. Anyway, overbearing boss that Patrick was, Ian couldn't just walk away and leave him as a lovesick bimbo. He looked up to see Patrick struggling on the bed.
"Ian?" his transformed boss said. "If you don't release me, NOW, you're fired. Do you understand that? Fired!"
"Patrick, please relax. It'll be over soon." Ian said, trying to be reassuring. He knew that if Patrick's mind didn't return to normal after the curse was lifted, he'd lose his job. This was just getting worse and worse.
Patrick looked at him, "But I don't want it to be over. I'm a sexy girl. Do you have any idea how this body feels. Not just on the outside, but on the inside. Nothing else comes close."
Ian looked down at Patrick stretched out on the bed. It was a fantastic body, he had to admit. In any other situation, he'd be trying to get to know the girl a lot better.
He watched, spellbound, as Patrick continued to struggle against his bonds. His eyes drank in Patrick's shapely body, from the breasts that rolled and moved under the revealing dress, down to the long, shapely legs struggling to break free. The movements grew less frantic and more sensuous, almost as if Patrick was enjoying it.
Ian looked up to see Patrick smiling broadly at him. With great relish, Patrick breathed the words "take me."
Ian jumped as if he had been stung and retreated over to the window. His face reddened with embarrassment as he heard Patrick laugh softly. He was almost painfully aware of the erection in his pants. He wanted that woman so badly, but 'she' was Patrick, his boss!
"I wouldn't worry about it, Ian." Patrick said with an amused tone in his voice. "It's perfectly natural for a body like mine to get you all hot and hard."
"It's not natural at all!" Ian retorted.
"Perhaps, but I can tell how much you want me. It's written all over your face."
"Shut up!" Ian turned to look out of the window. He checked his watch. It was still more than seven hours to midnight, and he was mentally exhausted already.
Patrick said nothing more. After several minutes, Ian had enough courage to turn around and face Patrick again. He was surprised to see that Patrick had fallen asleep. How could he fall asleep under conditions like that? Probably didn't get much rest the previous night, when he was with Hank, Ian thought.
Ian shook his head and sighed. He still couldn't believe it. Hank obviously couldn't tell the difference. Ian wondered if he could. If he had been making love to a magically transformed man, would he have been able to tell if, behind the bountiful breasts and soft skin, lived the soul of a man?
No wonder Patrick had gone nuts. Ian doubted he would deal with it better if he woke with feminine lips between his legs instead of his manhood. Or if his chest suddenly held two sensuous globes. His erection was uncomfortably tight in his pants, and his mouth was dry.
He stared at Patrick for several long minutes. Finally, he came to a decision and he moved his chair closer to the bed. Being very careful not to wake Patrick, Ian leaned over and breathed in the scent of the sleeping woman.
Ian shivered uncontrollably. Even the smell cried out with sex appeal. He looked up at the door to check no-one was there. Then he carefully held his hand barely above one of Patrick's breasts. He was so close to it that he imagined he could feel Patrick's body heat.
He looked up at Patrick's face, and almost died of fright when he saw his boss's eyes were open.
Patrick smiled and whispered "It's alright. Go ahead."
Ian wavered for a moment before giving in to his desires. Slowly, he brought his hand down to cup Patrick's soft flesh. Patrick groaned sensuously as Ian caressed him. Ian could feel Patrick's aroused nipple pushing into his palm.
His confidence grew, and he started to massage Patrick's breast. At that moment he wanted to have Patrick more than any other woman he had ever been with. His boss might once have been a man, but now he was the embodiment of feminine sensuality.
He slipped his hand inside Patrick's dress to get better access. Patrick hadn't bothered with a bra that morning, preferring to let his breasts swing free. Patrick's skin was so smooth and unblemished it only made Ian want him more.
"Ohh, that feels so good," Patrick said dreamily.Ian looked up at Patrick's face. There was no hint of masculinity in that face. Nothing that could point to Patrick's formerly male status. Slowly, he leaned over, and their lips met.
Ian felt as if he had gotten an electric shock from Patrick, and the kiss rapidly grew more passionate. Patrick's lips opened, inviting Ian's tongue into his mouth. By now, Ian was leaning over Patrick, and his erection was pressing into the transformed man under him.
Finally, they broke for air. Patrick looked at the aroused man on top of him; he was keenly aware of how far Ian had fallen under his spell. "Could you undo my right hand, my love?" he asked.
"I shouldn't," Ian said, but without any force.
"I won't be going anywhere while you're with me, will I?"
Ian caught the double meaning and swallowed. "I suppose it can't hurt." He reached up and quickly undid the belt holding Patrick's right hand.
Patrick's free hand ran softly down the side of Ian's face, and then headed downwards. It eagerly grabbed at the hard lump in Ian's jeans.
Ian needed no further encouragement and undid his own belt. He was shaking now and beyond much rational thought. This beautiful creature, that used to be a man, but was now a woman, wanted him!
Patrick was rougher now, more urgent, pulling Ian's jeans open and down. His shorts quickly followed.
Patrick's eyes widened with lust as he saw Ian's penis, erect in all its glory. "Closer, closer," he urged.
Ian kneeled over Patrick the best he could with his jeans and pants round his ankles and edged forward. Patrick pulled him closer still. It was all Ian could do to stop himself from reaching orgasm when Patrick's hot, velvet-soft mouth closed on his hot and hard length.
Patrick's hand gripped Ian's ass, and his nails dug in, but the young man was past caring. The hand controlled the speed of thrusting and only removed itself when Ian had settled into the rhythm Patrick wanted.
Ian had to lean forwards to allow his penis easy access to Patrick's eager mouth. He was gripping on to the backboard of the bed and trying to retain enough self-control to avoid crying out. The fact that there were two women in the next room who must not find out what he was doing only heightened his excitement.
He felt himself building to the inevitable explosion, and he did his best to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Patrick's tongue flicked over the head of his penis, and he lost the battle against his orgasm. He gave a strangled, quiet cry and pumped his seed into Patrick's mouth.
Then, just as he was recovering, he was suddenly thrown backwards and off the bed, slamming his head into a wardrobe as he hit the floor. He gave a cry of pain and confusion. He put his hand to his throbbing head and tried to work out what had happened.
Patrick was sitting upright on the bed, working feverishly at the two belts restraining his legs. He must have freed his other hand when he was sucking me off, Ian realized.
"Sorry," Patrick told him as he worked, "you're very cute, and I really didn't want to do that."
He tried to struggle to his feet, but Patrick was free. Ian could only watch as Patrick wiped some cum from the side of his mouth, and then grabbed his handbag.
"Ian?" came Abigail's voice from the hallway. "What's going on?"
Patrick wasted no time leaping from the room and running to the front door. From the confused yelling and cursing, it was obvious to Ian that Patrick had made a clean getaway.
Some moments later, Amanda prowled into the bedroom looking very angry. "What the hell hap--?" she started before she saw Ian collapsed on the floor.
Ian finally managed to struggle to his feet. It was only then that he remembered his jeans were around his ankles. He quickly tried to pull them up as Amanda, now joined by Abigail, could only stare on in disbelief.
"You sick bastard!" Amanda exclaimed. "What the hell were you thinking? That was Patrick!"
Ian tried to think of something to say and failed.
Amanda hadn't finished yet. "I just can't believe this! Did you like doing it with a man? Perhaps you should be a woman like him. In fact, I wish mmfff!"
Abigail held her hand tightly over Amanda's mouth. "Let's not risk creating another problem, okay?"
Amanda nodded slowly, and Abigail took her hand away. She thought about continuing her tirade against Ian's stupidity, but decided to storm out instead. "Men! Absolutely nothing but trouble!" she said angrily as she left. Abigail hurried after her.
Ian turned and looked down at the bed and tried to sort out his emotions. He had known all the time that it was Patrick, but it hadn't seemed to bother him.
Patrick was laughing as he drove away. That had been a very close call, but nothing would stop him being the woman he undoubtedly was. He felt bad about what had happened with Ian for two reasons. The first was that he had cheated on Hank, his future husband. The second reason was that Ian was a really cute guy. Patrick thought that if it wasn't for Hank, he could really go for him.
As soon as he felt he was far enough away from home to be safe, he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. "Hank? It's me, Becky. Slight change of plans. I'll meet you at your place." | 4 |
5,016 | Reckless | "I thought I was coming over to help you with the math exam study," said David, who was always called Davy by everyone at school. Even the girls who usually ignored the tall, thin math wizard with the horn-rimmed glasses called him that when they had to speak to him for some reason.
"You are, Davy. And I do need the help. But I know a better place to study than my house. Some friends have asked me to house-sit this weekend, and I have a key. Let's go over there and study, okay?"
"All right. I guess it doesn't matter where we do it."
"You're right," replied Kristy with a wink, patting the empty passenger seat in her 1986 Mustang, which had only a few rents and tears in it. Davy climbed in beside her, letting his eyes linger only for a moment on the red hair and blue eyes, the white t-shirt with a pink trim and a funny face on the front, the tight cutoff jeans that flowed around her fertile and sexy hips, and the tanned, perfect legs of a girl the sight of whom could melt the frozen loins of an octogenarian scoutmaster.
Sure, Davy the math wiz was a teenaged human being, and thus he'd made love to the girl sitting beside him in every conceivable nasty, dirty way in his fantasies; but now in the fading light of the late May afternoon, he knew she was off-limits to him. He wished it wasn't so, but no girl really looked twice at him, and thus knowing he wasn't sexy, to risk anything other than a distant relationship was to court the kind of humiliation and rejection he would do just about anything to avoid.
The weather was getting hot, and Kristy's air conditioner didn't work, so as they drove with the windows open, her hair blew out wildly behind her, but she seemed unconcerned. The last exam of the year was upon her, and she wanted desperately to do well on it. Nothing troubled her as much as the image she had of being an airheaded bimbo. She was far from stupid, but in her studies, she was too frequently inattentive. There was just so much life to live, she couldn't fit it all in. But it seemed to her that Davy could help her, and, no doubt, she could help him.
"Tell me, Dave," she said loudly over the wind to the silent boy sitting next to her staring straight ahead down the road, "you're a senior, aren't you?"
"Sure," he replied, startled and somewhat pleased that she had called him Dave rather than Davy.
"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, then?"
"No, go ahead," What else could he say, he thought.
"Have you ever been laid?" Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she'd asked if he'd ever had strawberry ice cream.
"What?"
"You know what I mean, don't ya?" she asked, turning her radiant face towards him, her long red hair flowing back behind her. "I mean fucking. Like, putting your dick inside a girl and moving it back and forth till you cum. Got the picture?" she smiled broadly.
This conversation was entirely outside David A. Graham's experience. He was a nice boy who lived at home with his parents and had done everything he could to please them. He thought his horniness was his own dirty little secret. He took a lot of precautions to be sure nobody knew he masturbated. He could see the look in this mother's eyes now: I'm so *ashamed* of you David, so very *ashamed*. And you should be too. This is just so *awful* and so *disgusting*.
"Well, not really," he replied nervously, forgetting to raise his voice so it could be heard over the wind.
He looked a bit pained, and his face was turning beet red.
"Well, hey, Dave, it doesn't hurt, you know. It's a natural thing. Everybody does it. And you're over eighteen, sweetie, you're not a little kid anymore."
"So I've been told," he replied, but stared straight ahead. Still, inwardly he smiled a little. He snuck another look at her, sitting there driving with that sexy, incredible body. Then a flash of anger: why was she teasing him this way? He hated it when the girls did that.
He was still staring straight ahead when the Mustang swung into Pam's driveway. But he unfroze in time to accompany Kristy to the door. The house was indeed empty, and a little to David's surprise, Kristy went straight to the kitchen table and spread out the books. And to her surprise, David turned out to be a great teacher. He explained things clearly and patiently that she had never understood. There was a meeting of the minds, and a shared purpose, and soon he forgot what he thought was the teasing in the car. He almost, but not quite, forgot the inspiring legs and gorgeous ass that sat so close to him by the quiet kitchen table, as the time passed silently and the night spread its wings over the day.
It seemed like minutes, but an hour passed. As Dave (she couldn't even think of him as Davy anymore) got up to get them a soda, she thought how surprising it was that a real person lay frozen beneath the shy exterior, a person who emerged lit up with enthusiasm as he saw she was paying attention to him, and learning from him.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
"I know who that is," exclaimed Kristy, getting up and going through the little hallway from the kitchen to the door. Dave could hear the exchange of words.
"Hi Kristen! Hi Jeff!" Kristy said in her rather low voice.
"Hi! Ok if we come in?" replied a female voice.
"I invited you didn't I?" Kristy said back.
All three came back to the kitchen. Dave knew Kristen, she was in his senior class but not a close friend. Blond and slim and athletic, he knew she was a sports buff, but wasn't really sure what sport she was into. Jeff was obviously her boyfriend, taller and older, probably a college kid. Dave was immediately uncomfortable as Kristy made introductions all around. He wondered if they were there to study too.
Kristen gave him a sweet smile, and he relaxed a little. Nope, no study, for after a little small talk, Kristen and Jeff got a quick house tour from Kristy, who showed them every room, including Pam's waterbed in the bedroom. Afterward, Kristen and her boyfriend settled on the couch with some beer they'd bought and turned on the TV. Kristy returned to the kitchen table, saying over her shoulder as she left them alone, "Just a little more for us to study, so be good you two!"
Fifteen minutes of studious concentration later, a strange sound rose slightly over the noise of the TV. Kristy and Dave immediately looked up. It was a quiet but unmistakable feminine moan.
"I bet they're doing something naughty," Kristy whispered, but Dave didn't say anything and returned to his explanations. But shortly, the moan came again, a little louder. Dave and Kristy looked at one another, then she quietly got up from the chair and padded on bare feet to the hall where the living room was visible. Dave just sat there and watched her go.
Twenty seconds later, she reappeared, and holding out a hand, beckoned Dave to join her. He knew he should just sit there, but something made him get up and follow the sexy redhead in spite of himself. He even tried consciously to be quiet.
At the wide doorway where the hall opened into the living room, the two young and curious heads peered discreetly around the doorjamb. What they saw was a side view of the comfortable wide stuffed couch facing the TV. In one corner, Jeff lay back against the armrest, one foot on the floor and the other on the couch. Straddling the couch-borne leg, Kristen had both her tanned and athletic legs spread low on the couch, and her arms around Jeff's neck. The TV was ignored, as she locked her lips in a passionate kiss with her boyfriend's. The movement of their tongues inside their cheeks was clearly visible, and the eyes of the young lovers were closed as they enjoyed the ecstasy of the urgent wet kisses. What was most shocking to David, her thin pink summer blouse was unbuttoned and the bra cast aside on the floor, and one of Jeff's hands was fondling and rubbing her naked breasts even as they kissed.
David stood rooted to the spot. He'd never even dreamed of seeing anything like this in his life. He knew he should leave but he didn't move. Somehow, the fact that Kristy didn't look away either, but seemed fascinated, kept him there. A powerful nervous tension did battle in his body with a struggling green shoot of arousal, making itself felt in spite of his mental denial.
Eventually, the kiss broke.The lovely girl leaned back slightly as her boyfriend reached up with both arms and, taking her breasts in his wide palms, began to rub both her peaked nipples back and forth with his thumbs.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhyeeeessss," she moaned again, "You know what that does to me, baby."
"What does it do to you, golden girl?"
"It makes me so hot and tingly and wet for you, baby. Oh, God, you drive me wild."
"Yeah, your tits are so goddamn sexy, and I love these hard little nipples. Love to tweak them," he said with an aroused fervor to his voice as he twirled them between his thumb and forefinger. She trembled visibly and began to rub her crotch on his leg in an unmistakable invitation to lustier activities.
It was too much. David felt himself getting hard, the blood flowing deliciously into his cock, and drew back and softly walked the few steps back to the kitchen. In a few moments, Kristy followed.
"What's wrong, guy?" she asked him in a whisper.
"That's so private, we shouldn't be looking."
"I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to repeat it anywhere," she whispered. He leaned down a little as she stood close to him, her sexy body so near it seemed to physically hurt him in some way. "Okay," he said.
"She loves it," Kristy whispered into his ear. Her lips were so close, her warm breath sent chills down his spine. "We're friends, and I've double-dated with her before. She likes being watched. She even likes it when she knows someone is watching. Can you handle that?"
"I guess so," he replied, in somewhat of a state of moral confusion at this unexpected new information. "But," he suddenly thought, and said aloud, "What about him?"
"Let me tell ya, sweetie, once his dick gets hard, he really doesn't care anymore either."
David just looked at her. She winked and flashed a wicked smile at him. "Now c'mon back with me. Don't be a chicken. You've been teaching me, and now it's my turn."
Knowing it was wrong, he couldn't seem to stop himself. He removed his shoes at her whispered suggestion, and they crept back to their watching post, the tops of their heads up to their eyes peering around the edge of the doorway.
Things had progressed dramatically. The attractive blonde Kristen was now sitting slouched down on the couch, her hips on the edge, as the taller Jeff was on his knees in front of her. She put her feet, now bare, on the floor and raised up just as Kristy and David resumed their watching, and Jeff boldly just slipped her shorts off, leaving her in only a pair of sheer panties. Her blouse was open, revealing her enchanting breasts with the tight hard nipples, so sexy and healthy they pointed in different directions. Her eyes were closed as she assisted her boyfriend in removing the barriers to their pleasure.
He paused then, the cutoffs discarded, as if in wonder. "God, you're so wet it's incredible," he said, staring into the damp valley between her smooth legs.
"Yes, lover, and what are you going to do about it?"
He reached forward and with his fingers began to trace the outline of her puffy and visibly aroused lips through the sheer, silk panty. The look of pleasure on her face, the way her head leaned back and her eyes closed, more than the action between her legs, made David's cock harden to a full erection inside his pants. He was hooked now. He no longer wanted to leave, even though it might be painful to see such pleasure given and taken and not even know what it felt like himself.
Jeff only played a little while, and then Kristen lifted her hips in a gesture that couldn't be missed, even by David. He took hold of the panties and slipped them off. The big wet stain in the center was clearly visible. David had never known that a woman could get so wet. He did not know the reality and power of a woman's arousal -- he had thought they just put up with it, or did it for favors.
Her naked pussy, the lips swollen out and colored a bright pink on the outside fading to a deep vermillion within, shone with the copious honey that flowed from inside her. She pushed her hips towards Jeff, and he responded so quickly it almost looked savage and wild. He kissed her inner thighs, and she automatically spread her legs wider for him. It was obvious that his cock was almost painfully hard inside his pants, so much so he had to reach down and rearrange it slightly. But he knew his pleasure would not be denied, it would only have to wait a bit longer. He gave her hers. His face pressed into the V of her beautiful legs, and both Kristy and David could see the slight movement of his jaw that signaled the tongue working in her warm velvet folds.
"Ooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, god, YES," a long moan came from the supine girl, that had such an inexpressibly pathetic quality to it, as though her whole soul was dancing quiveringly alive on the tongue that pleasured her.
Jeff's head moved up and down, and the watching couple could tell that the long strokes of the wide tongue were scooping up the sexy Kristen's sweet honey. He was damn good at it, Kristy thought. If he didn't belong to Kristen, I'd like to have a few cracks at him.
High-pitched moans escaped the lips of the transported girl. Along with "yes....yes.....oh god, fuck me, just like, oh ....justlikethat....".
His head stopped moving up and down, and the voyeurs could see his lips puckered at the top of the furrow. His tongue was obviously working directly on her clit, as Kristy observed, even if David was lost on the details due to inexperience. Below, a hand crept up to insert a finger inside his squirming victim. As it did, she bucked and howled, "Yes, fuck me with it, oh god, YES!"
Jeff began sensuously working his finger in and out. This had such an effect that Kristen began to lean back even further and clench her teeth as her beautiful features distorted in agonized pleasure.
The combination of tongue and finger soon made her even wilder. Her hips began to heave in a rhythmic motion against him, making him need to flex his neck to keep his tongue on her clit, but he did it, driving in even more firmly the wilder she moved.
It was the sounds she made that were so incredible, though. She didn't even try to be quiet, and there's no human sound quite like the noise a woman makes when she's really into sex -- not the fake sounds you hear in the porno movies. The tension in her moans and whimpers and gasps gave the two teen voyeurs and her boyfriend undeniable evidence of how far she was lost in otherworldly pleasure.
Kristy could feel the sweet tension in her loins, the swelling of her sex, the wetness and heat begin to flow freely. She gave herself over to the excitement. A vibrant electricity seemed to flutter like butterfly wings all over her body. She wanted to reach down and touch herself but she forced her hand to wait. For his part, David felt a longing, a desperate need as his cock asked him to touch it, rub it, give it the pleasure it yearned for. He too forced himself to not move or touch.
Jeff's oral pleasuring of Kristen quickly reached its climax. Such extravagant feelings could not last.
"Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww GOD," she wailed, and heaved one last time, her face a contorted mask of ecstasy. Her loins just left the couch entirely and shoved into Jeff's face violently, pushing him back. He held on to her thighs, and she fell back, then heaved and wailed again. Even Kristy had seldom seen anyone let go so completely when they came.
After that last heave, she fell back and lay there gasping over and over again in a breathless voice, "Oh god, oh god." Her breathing was harsh, and she kept gasping for breath. Jeff, his head still attached by the neck despite her thrashings, rested his chin on her brownish blonde bush and looked up at the contented face of his girl, eyes still closed but a sweet smile creeping across. His clean-shaven face and lips were shining with a thorough coating of her sweet juices.
David seemed to have trouble breathing himself. He knew he shouldn't have watched this -- now he was rock hard and his body full of juice, and nowhere to go and nothing to do about it. It was agony, but kind of a sweet agony. He'd never been near this excited in his life. And confused. It was all too much. He wished he had a car of his own, or even a bike, so he could ride home and masturbate furiously, as many times as he could stand it. He had a jar of vaseline in his nightstand, and he knew he'd need it tonight.
His eyes took in the sight before him one last time, and he vowed to remember it. Kristen opened her eyes, and the look of contentment and joy on her face was another thing among many he'd never dreamed of. He saw her reach down to her boyfriend's curly hair and stroke it lovingly.
"You are a gorgeous wonderful man," she sighed. "I bet you've got a nice present hidden away for me right now, don't you?"
Jeff thought of his throbbing cock and replied, "You bet, baby."
"I'm ready for it, babe, but you just might need to carry me into the bedroom. My legs might be kind of weak."
"Bull, your legs are stronger than mine, but I'll carry you if you want."
Jeff then lifted his lover, naked but for her flimsy and open blouse, and cradled her in his arms as they headed for the bedroom for Round Two. Kristy and David could hear their conversation as they went in.
"What if we mess up the bed, we'll have to wash the sheets," he was saying.
"Better that than the couch, sweetie," Kristen replied with a giggle. They didn't bother to even close the door.
David straightened up, his back aching and his legs weak. He hadn't realized how tight his body had been, but his cock was giving off pleasure sparks that, from long experience, he knew he had to ignore so it might go down until he could get in private.
He started to move towards the kitchen, in a kind of daze that had made him almost forget his companion.But he hadn't gone two steps before a pair of surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him and pushed him against the wall of the hallway. Before he could react, a very warm and buxom female body pressed against his front, sandwiching his back tightly against the wall.
"*You* are not going *anywhere*," said Kristy, her hands sliding up under his shirt along his sides. Her body melted into his. He'd felt a few girls up close at the two or three dances he'd gone to in his life, but nothing like this. My God, his cock was hard and she must be able to feel it!
She didn't seem to mind, in fact, her body pressed as tight as it could, and then she pushed her loins forward to merge with his even harder. He could clearly feel her belly press up against his erection. There was nowhere to go, so he stood there. She held him tight and looked up into his eyes. He looked back, and the glowing heat he saw there almost shocked him. As they looked at one another, she began to undulate her hips in a sexy motion, rubbing her lower belly against his long cock stretched up so high that it rose several inches it seemed above his beltline.
"I'm a woman, and you're a man, Dave honey," she breathed to him as she humped against him ever so slowly, "And you're hard, and I'm wet, baby, you know what that means?"
He couldn't answer, so she continued, "It feels good, doesn't it, that rubbing. Feels good to me too, sweetie, it makes me want to make you feel so good."
The motion did feel good to him, in fact, so good it almost made his vision blur. He felt a stirring inside that he'd never felt before. It made him feel reckless, unconcerned with Mom and her shame. Fire spread out from his loins, and he didn't try to fight it, but it was mingled with tension and fear; fear that he'd make a fool of himself. He didn't even know how to kiss, and here was this...expert...who would be disappointed in him. But he couldn't think of an escape, and her motion was rubbing his fear away slowly.
She must have sensed it. "Don't worry, hon, I'll show you what you need to know. You led me through the equilateral triangles and asymmetrical slices, now just relax, baby, and follow my lead."
"Okay," he said in a squeaky voice, but he did begin to relax a little. She was so sweet. He was used to girls making fun of him, used to words like "nerd" and "geek". But the sexiest girl in school seemed to want him, and was being nice to him -- it was a miracle that made him almost believe it was another dream.
"Just stand there right now, baby, you don't have to do a thing. You're too hot to learn, hon, and I know just how to cool you down some. Lean back against the wall," she said, as if he wasn't already pressed there. Her warm body left him, and she dropped to a squatting position and began to undo his belt with an expertise that told of countless other unbeltings. As she did, her hand felt the outlines of his long and rather thin cock. Hmmm, she thought inwardly, another right-on. His fingers were long and thin too, and she'd told her girlfriends that the way to know how a man's cock was built was to look at his fingers. Mostly, it was true -- there were some notable exceptions she could think of, but Dave was right on the money with her theory.
The belt undone, she undid the fastener and pulled the pants down to his knees. He felt the air on his legs. He couldn't help but look down, taking in a top view of her staring straight at his hard cock still hidden by his white briefs. She ran her finger up and down and all over the shape of it, making him tremble slightly as the shoots of pleasure hit his overheated brain.
The pleasure was powerful, but the tension hadn't melted entirely. The tension was the only thing that gave him control, if you could call it that. Without the lingering uncertainty, he would have exploded at her touch.
He closed his eyes, and then felt the finger loop under the elastic and pull down the briefs. God, he was naked in front of her, and she was right there looking at it! It was nasty and he didn't want to look, but he had to. He looked down just as she took his long, red, throbbing cock into her warm hand and began to stroke it up and down right in front of her eyes. The sight and feel were both overwhelming. He closed his eyes again, and very shortly felt a warm wetness at the tip of his cock. He couldn't believe this, he just couldn't. It wasn't happening to him. It wasn't real.
He looked down again, drawn by some magnetism he wasn't aware of. And it was real. Her full pink lips closed tightly over his cock head, and the freckled face moved forward slightly as she took him slowly into her mouth. He could feel only smooth lips, somehow touching nerves and lighting fires that his own hand had never even come close to. And then the tongue -- he could clearly feel her tongue licking and circling and swirling gently against his sensitive sex like the beating of a thousand wings of angels.
He closed his eyes and heard himself moan. He was floating on a sweet river of fire, and had no choice now but to ride with the current.
Higher and higher he went, as the experienced tongue and lips and mouth of the teen sex goddess drove him to a controlled frenzy. His whole body burned and ached. He began to fear he would cum, and do a horrible thing by cumming in her mouth.
"I...I...might...cum," he gasped to her.
"Cum, baby. Cum, my sweet Dave. Give it to me, I want it, all you've got. Don't be shy, honey, squirt it in my mouth."
She didn't want him to wait. Her tongue began to concentrate on the nerve bundle under the head of his cock. The torture in him rose, and he knew somewhere that he couldn't stop it, not now.
His body seized, and his legs trembled. The heat, the agony, the thrill was like nothing he had ever known. Only his back firmly against the wall kept him from falling. He felt his cock stiffen deliciously, and then the pulses and waves of ecstasy overcame him as he felt the juice of life pump firmly out in spurt after spurt. She held her lips firmly around him, cradling his spasming organ in her warm welcoming mouth. She loved the feel of the pulses as the hot sperm splashed out on her tongue.
Soon the ripples ebbed and slowed, and the flow dwindled to drops. He had cum a lot, and her mouth felt fairly full of the salty, sexy, unique taste. Some girls honestly didn't like it, but Kristy just loved it. Only when the boys had been drinking beer or something that made it bitter did she swallow without savoring the taste.
She swirled it around but did not swallow, looking up at him. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving. She rubbed his wet cock on her face, spreading trails of saliva and sperm in her freckles. At this, he opened his eyes and looked down, to see the sexiest sight he'd ever dreamed. As he did, she very deliberately ran her tongue out and over her lips as if to get every last drop, and then swallowed his load of sperm visibly, letting him see her throat muscles flex as it went down. She wanted him to know how she loved it, and for him not to feel guilty or that he'd done anything wrong by her.
"Oh, God, Kristy. Oh my God," was all he could say. She stood up, hugged him tightly, and kissed his neck. A more experienced boy she'd have kissed on the lips, but she didn't want to freak him his first time, knowing how weird some boys were about sperm, even their own.
"Didn't that feel so gooooooood?" she crooned in her sexiest and most seductive voice.
"Oh yes, oh yes it did," his voice was returning to normal, now that he could get enough air in his chest, and his body relaxed its tension some.
"Look, Dave, honey, I'm so wet and horny, can you help me like I helped you?" she asked in a plaintive voice.
"I'll try," he answered. What else could he say? He was in her hands, literally and figuratively.
"Here, step out of these so you can walk," she suggested, bending and pulling on his already down pants. Of course, he could also walk if he pulled them up, but that just wasn't the direction things were destined to travel on this incredible, unreal, impossible night. He stepped out of them as she helped him, his cock dangling out in the open, but somehow he no longer felt any shyness about it. After all, after he'd had it in her mouth and had cum there, what was the point of shyness?
She then stood up and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers around in his curly chest hair. Even playing a bit with his nipple, which to his surprise sent a sharp thrill up his spine. Once the shirt was off, he was as naked as could be, wearing only his digital multifunction wristwatch.
"No fair you getting naked and I'm not," she said, sticking out her lower lip in a mock pout.
He got the hint, and reached forward and somewhat awkwardly pulled up on the edges of her t-shirt. She helped by raising her arms, and soon it was over her head and off, red hair cascading up and then down in a wild and fiery explosion. He looked at her, standing there in a bra and cutoff jeans. Her top was tanned a little, but her body had the white pallor that many redheads had. Her shoulders and back were covered with little freckles, which she might have thought were ugly, but he was enchanted with. On such a perfect body, a little imperfection was endearing.
"Here, sweetie, it's time to learn how to take one of these off," she said, spinning around so her back was to him.
"There's little hooks back there, under that overlap," she instructed. "Just pull the flap on the top to the left, and the hooks'll come out."
With only a little trouble, and close observation, he undid the bra and let go the ends, letting it fall to the hallway floor.
"Now, sometimes you won't be able to look, but just remember how those little hooks work and you won't have any trouble at all!" she smiled happily as she turned to face him with these words of wisdom.He couldn't help but look down at her breasts, full and beautiful, as good or better than any he'd seen in the men's magazines. The nipples were dark brown, contrasting with the milky white globes.
"Do you like them?" she asked.
"Oh, very much," he answered. "They're beautiful."
"Yeah, a girl likes to hear that. Don't ever feel shy about telling a woman how good she looks. It may sound corny to you, but if you really mean it, she'll just glow and want you more. She'll give you rewards if you'll just have the sense to talk to her. Some boys just don't get it, but you're such a sweetheart, I want you to know, you understand?" She looked into his eyes.
"Yes, I do," he said. He was just feeling his way along, reacting to her. She surprised him again by coming up close and hugging him tightly, her warm breasts pressed against his chest so hard he could feel her nipples.
"Kiss me," she said, looking up at him.
This was scary. He'd never really kissed a girl in a sexual way. He was sure he didn't know what to do. But he bent his face down a little, and felt her lips touch his. For a few sweet moments, just their lips touched, and then he began to feel her tongue creeping up against his lips. Then pushing a little further, until it was in his mouth fully. God! She was tongue-kissing him! He felt a surge go through him. The combination of the tongue, lips, and the feel of her firm young nipples against his chest caused his bare cock to stir and grow again.
He didn't bother to fight it this time. He just wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, letting their sweet young flesh press close as their tongues danced and swirled together in pleasure.
Kissing is the sexiest thing ever, he thought.
But soon she drew away, and told him, "Come with me." They left the hallway, discarded clothing scattered on the floor, and went to the couch where so recently Jeff had given Kristen her peak of joy. It reminded him there was another couple in the house, and sure enough, as soon as he remembered, he could hear a soft "Ohhhhhhh yes" murmured from the open bedroom door.
"Sounds like they're having some more fun!" said Kristy, not bothering to whisper. "C'mere, guy, and unsnap this."
She meant her cutoffs, and he obeyed, reaching down and unsnapping the top. Kristy then spread the sides over her hips, and as they cleared the lovely bulges, they dropped instantly to the floor, and she stepped out of them. Wasting no time, she swung around and sat on the couch in her wet panties, and motioned for David to come and kneel between her knees.
Squatting on his knees, he obeyed easily. It was almost like worshipping at the altar of love, he thought briefly, remembering a phrase he'd read in an erotic novel. Kristy was in the very same position that Kristen had been, her ass on the edge of the sofa and a pillow under her head, leaning back against the armrest. But Kristy, as usual, especially since meeting Pam, was in a talkative mood, even though the arousal coursed fiercely through her veins.
"See this, sweetheart?" she said seductively, as her fingers traced the outlines of her obviously very swollen labia, still covered in theory by the very thin and very soaked panties. "See how wet I am?"
"Yes," he replied, a little catch in his voice, his eyes glued to the spot, his cock hardening and throbbing and signaling it was ready for more.
"When you see that, you know a woman's ready for her man. If you ever wonder if she's really into it, when you see this flood, you know she's sincere. That's the body talking, baby, and it doesn't lie."
He just nodded. From the bedroom came another "Ooooooooooooooo" moan, but neither young lover was paying much attention right now. "Take 'em off, sweetie." She raised her hips, and let him slip off her panties. The dramatic view revealed took his breath away. The reddish-brown hair curled up over and around the swollen pink lips, the nearest strands soaked with the pungent wetness of her honey. He could smell it when her panties were on, but bare, the vertical smile emitted an aura of heat mixed with the most attractive scent David had ever inhaled. He'd heard some guys talk about how it smelled like fish, but they were ever so wrong. It was sexy and hot and nasty and wonderful. He loved it instantly.
Kristy sexily touched herself, stroking her labia gently as he watched. She wanted more. "Touch it, hon, it won't bite." He did, letting his fingers stroke the wet, smooth, hot flesh. It was softer than anything he'd ever felt.
"Ohhhh yeah, that feels so gooooood, honey." she breathed. "Put your finger in me, right here, see." She spread her lips to reveal the pink little vaginal entrance. Like a good boy, he slipped his finger into the dark tight tunnel as she had asked, wondering at the magic soft feel of it. "Deeper," she prompted, and easily his finger slid in to the knuckle. He was glad his nails were short. He didn't resist the urge to feel around and explore the mystery he'd been invited into, and was amazed at the folds, the mounds, the harder areas and the softer ones. He didn't know what he was feeling in there, but was just fascinated at the variety. It wasn't just a tunnel of flesh, but a living organ.
"Oh, God, that's so good. Now take it out and let me...show you...one more thing." She felt she was on the edge of losing control but held on just barely, remembering her teaching role. Besides just the physical, it was incredibly sexy knowing that the virgin boy was seeing and feeling her for the first time, and would remember her for as long as he lived.
"Now, Dave, a woman loves a finger in her pussy, and on her lips, but feel right up here, baby, at the top." He did. She guided his finger. "Feel that hard little bump? That's my clit, honey, and every girl's got one. Ohhhh! Baby, don't rub it right now, in just a second. Now, some are bigger and some are littler, but they're all there. That's like the spot underneath your cockhead, hon, it's the trigger that pops the gun. Some girls like pressure right on it, others just around it, but there's not a woman in the world that doesn't like it played with by tongues or fingers or cocks."
He said nothing, he was tongue-tied. It was all just too wonderful. From the bedroom, they could both hear more moans. Kristy had lost all patience now.
"Dave, it's all yours, baby, every bit of it. Do what you want and don't worry about anything. Just do me, and I'll help you if you need, but please, please make me cum. Please."
She spread her legs for him and took her hands away. It was his first solo. His only guide was what she'd said, and what he'd seen Jeff do to Kristen. He never thought about not plunging in. He put his face down to her sweet, attractive sex and let his eyes feast one more time before turning and kissing the softness of her inner thighs. Like he'd seen Jeff do, he kissed his way closer and closer, until he heard Kristy pant "Hurry, David, kiss my cunt, baby. It needs a kiss so bad."
He put his lips on her hot, velvet wetness and extended his tongue. The tangy, musky, sexy taste on his tongue-tip sent every last inhibition away. He loved it, absolutely loved it. He started licking, like a dog lapping up milk from the floor. Yeah, like a dog. Fuck it. He felt a surge go through him, a surge of pent-up animal instincts. Everybody had spent their whole lives trying to keep him from this, make him such a nice boy, such a fucking wimp. He felt wild and free at last. Nothing to stop him. Nobody to say "stop" or "shame".
Wild, reckless, not caring. He licked up and down, feeling the hot juice in his mouth, letting the taste seep into his pores. He felt the indentation of her hole, and drove his tongue up into it in a wild gesture, as if to say "Fuck you, parents. Fuck you, teachers. Fuck you, world."
"Oh yeah, baby, tongue-fuck me! You're a natural, baby, you love it. Get it in deep, stud lover." Kristy encouraged.
He drove it in as deep as he could, and wished he could go deeper. His lips mashed against the hot lips and wet hair. He licked inside. His cock pulsed and throbbed. "Stud Lover"...he'd never been called that before!
"My clit, baby. Lick it, honey, please, I wanna cum so bad, please!" she panted. He pulled his tongue out and sought the hard nub he'd felt before. It was bigger and more swollen than it was previously. He could feel it, and rolled it under his tongue. Damn, this was easy, he thought, why did he used to think it was so hard to do? He didn't know anything then.
"Oh, yeah, baby, give me a steady rhythm, right on it, just don't stop, please don't stop."
He continued to lick her, like a kitten lapping milk, with stroke after rapid stroke right directly on her clit as she had asked. She was silent for a minute, except for heavy breathing, then her feet dug into the floor and her hips began to rise up. He adjusted his position for her, and as she rose to about a foot off the couch, she shrieked... "Aiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee" and heaved up. A flood of juice seemed to wet his face even further. He instinctively grabbed her thighs as Jeff had done Kristen, and held on tightly. But Kristy had a different style of cum. She grunted, "Uh! Uh! Uh!" and with every grunt, her loins jerked in a rhythm. After about eight or nine little feminine grunts and heaves, she flopped back on the couch, gasping.
His face finally out of her wonderful crotch, he looked at his amazing handiwork. It was unbelievable, incredible, yet oh so real. The sexiest body he ever could imagine lay open and gasping, her face a mask of pleasure overflowing. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her legs were spread wide but swayed back and forth in some strange rhythm, her toes spread wide and digging into the carpet. There was a pink flush color all over her that looked almost like uneven sunburn.David didn't know what one was yet, but Kristy had just gotten a "full body orgasm," one that you feel in every muscle and fiber of your body from top of head to tip of toes.
"Oh, Dave, come here and hug me," were her first words, after a few minutes of glowing. He did, sitting next to her on the couch and hugging her in a sweet, lusty, naked hug. She put her face into the V of his neck, licked there, and whispered, "Oh, you are a hell of a lover, guy."
His smile was the broadest he could even remember feeling right then. He felt touched by a sweet fire from heaven, bright sunlight radiating on him in the dead of night.
They both hugged silently, as Kristy soaked up the afterglow. David's cock was wanting attention again, but he was patient and didn't say anything. He just enjoyed the feel of her, warm and soft, next to his skin.
In a while, they were aware, in the relative silence, of the sound of motion in the bedroom. They perked up their ears, David now unconcerned with privacy. "Roll over," they heard Kristen say.
"Ooooooo," Kristy whispered to David, "Let's watch."
She got up off the sofa, not waiting for a reply, and walked towards the bedroom door, her sexy ass swaying deliciously. David followed her with his eyes, then got up to walk with her to the door. He'd follow her over a cliff at this point, he thought.
Kristy was not subtle. Naked without even a stitch on, she stood in the doorway and looked at Pam's waterbed (which as the reader of previous chapters will recall, she was very familiar). On it, arranged diagonally, lay Jeff's muscular body, fully naked also. And over him straddled the lovely Kristen, her blonde hair splayed in attractive disorder over her shoulders. Both had a sheen of sweat on their bodies. It was obvious that Jeff's cock was up inside his girlfriend, as she leaned forward and held a breast with one hand, to feed him the erect nipple to suck on.
As he sucked, Kristen closed her eyes, then opened them again, soaking in the double pleasure of her stuffed pussy and licked nipple. He lapped and sucked, as he also reached up and rubbed and tweaked the other brown hard nub. After a minute or so, she couldn't take any more, and leaned back up.
As Kristen opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of her friend, naked and watching in the door opening. She didn't say anything or move at all, just smiled and locked blue eyes on blue eyes. David came up next to Kristy, but Kristen only glanced at him briefly. As she and Kristy shared some subtle female communication, Jeff caught on and twisted his head around to see. Once he saw the other couple watching, he smiled and winked, and turned back to watch his lover.
Without taking her eyes off Kristy, Kristen began to fuck Jeff. Raising her hips in a slow, steady rhythm, she revealed the base of the thick cock that impaled her, before sinking down again and letting it fill her. It was so sexy, thought David, to see her trim and athletic ass rising and falling on Jeff's thick red cock. How did I ever get so lucky?
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" asked Kristy.
"Oh yeah," replied David enthusiastically.
"That's got to feel so good, doesn't it?" she continued, eyes glued to the couple on the bed, "To feel your cock up inside a hot pussy as far as it will go. Knowing she loves it, knowing you're going to cum in there. Squirt your seed up inside her, where it belongs."
Kristen rocked back and forth steadily. She could hear Kristy, and it seemed to inflame her passions. She closed her eyes and began humping harder, pulling up further, revealing more of Jeff's shiny hard cock.
Kristy noticed the reaction. "Yeah, Kristen, go for it, girl. Fuck that thing, you hear me? You love it, don't you? I know you do. Fuck it till you make him cum in you, keep it going till he fills you up with his little spermies. I know he's got a big load in there for you," Kristy incited her friend.
"Oh God yes, I do love it. I can't help it, it feels so fucking good," Kristen grunted shakily, as she began to be filled to overflowing with the sweet stings of sexual pleasure.
Kristy turned to David. "That's fucking, hon. And it feels so good. You know it does, don't you?" To emphasize her point, she took David's long hard cock in her hand and began gently stroking it.
"Yeah," David said, feeling the sugary pleasure on his member.
"Doesn't that make you wanna fuck, Dave?"
"Yeah it does, oh Kristy, yeah it really does."
"We're gonna stay here and watch till Jeff cums in Kristen, and then I want you to fuck me, Dave, my stud man. Will you fuck me? Please?"
"Yes," he said weakly, not taking his eyes off the rise and fall of Kristen's pretty ass as she humped Jeff's cock faster and faster.
"Ohhhhhh god, what sweet fucking," the blonde girl moaned, as she cupped her lover's face with her hands during a pause. As she sat there, hot cock and wet pussy soldered together, he began to push up, needing release desperately. "Oooooooo," she moaned and began to hump back at him. They were clearly excited at being watched by their friends, and the situation was sending them both toward the sweet explosion of the cum.
Soon they both lost all control. She began to thrust down harder, and he began to hump up more violently. The wet slap of their loins could be heard all over the house.
"Oh, yes, baby please squirt it up me, I don't care, just please do it now!!" Kristen begged.
He began to grunt and humped even harder. He was so fucking close.
"Yes...yes....YES oh dammit give it to me, oh YES!" she moaned in his ear.
"Here it cums baby," he groaned softly, then: "Ugggghhhh!" a grunt and moan at the same time as his hips pushed up. As deep inside her as he could go, his cock pulsed and squirted shot after shot of hot cum. Her hips quivered and shook, but it was the only motion visible as they tensely clung tight to one another, eyes closed as they both felt the ecstasy of the melting together of their sexual fluids. She delighted in the feel of his cock pulsing just at the external point where they were joined.
At last, their bodies relaxed and settled back into the welcoming waterbed. They still held one another tight. Kristen sighed deeply, and began to plant little kisses all over Jeff's face. "I felt it, I really felt it squirt that time," she whispered quietly, but Kristy and David heard her.
"Fuck me now," Kristy told David fiercely, "Fuck me right on the floor in this goddamn door." She lay down, spread her legs, and pulled him between them. He'd never heard or read of anyone so wild.
"Here just lay between my legs on your knees." He got into position. She grabbed his cock and guided it to her hot hole. "Don't play around. Push it in me and fuck."
All he had to do was push forward. He couldn't miss if he tried. The slick labia took his cockhead and guided it to its target. The virgin boy shoved his hips forward, so horny now he didn't care about much of anything. He didn't care about the other couple on the bed just a few feet away, and he didn't care about his parents, his teachers, his church elders and their lectures. His cock slid into the girl beneath him like a knife in hot butter. In no time at all, he felt his pubic hair push up against her labia and mingle with hers. So hot. So exquisite.
"Oh, god, you bottomed out baby, you fill me up so good. Fuck me, baby, rub it in and out of me, make Kristy feel so good!"
Even for a newbie, the motion of sex is easy and natural. He began to work his hips back and forth, not thinking about it, just going with the feelings in his body. The result was a slow explosion of unfathomable pleasure that built around his cock, as Kristy flexed and relaxed her muscles to increase the friction for both of them.
"Ooooo baby you're a sweet fucker, honey, you're gonna cum in it and fill me up, Oh YEAH!"
He stopped. Gasping, he heeded a small voice of caution. "Kristy, I don't want to make a baby in you," he gasped, holding his cock still inside her.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. She'd played a game with others before, but not with this boy. She took his face in her hands and said, "Don't worry honey, I'm safe. Just let it go. Shoot it deep in me. I need it. Please, please."
He began the motion again, and this time the little pause made the streaks of joy even stronger. He heard himself groan. The level of pleasure your body could give you was just out of comprehension, he thought in the last sane corner of his mind. He felt her legs wrap around him, holding him strongly in her. As he humped, he felt her heave back at him. Their breathing was ragged as they gasped and moaned. All either knew now was the feel of cock sliding in pussy. They were beyond words now.
Kristen and Jeff, temporarily sated by their mutual orgasm, watched fascinated and aroused by the wild animal scene in the doorway. They had a great rear view, and when Kristy raised her fantastic legs and wrapped them around the slim waist of her tallish lover, they got a wonderful view of his long slim cock sliding wetly in and out of her.
As they watched, Kristy quite obviously went over the edge. She began to hump quickly and frantically, and grunted her little grunts. David sensed her cumming and slowed briefly. "Uh! Uh! Uh!" she panted again and again. He thought he'd be able to feel her cum, but he could only feel an increased tightness. But he did feel her hips pushing up to him in a quick rhythm. He knew by some instinct she was there, and it fired him to the last degree. His ass was on autopilot as he humped and fucked her now, groans and grunts coming from his lips.
Soon David felt the opening of the valves that told him no matter what, the cum was going to shoot from his cock. He groaned, unable to give his lover any more warning, and pushed up violently and deeply in her in an instinctive ancient move to plant his sperm as deeply as possible.Then his loins seized, and he felt his asshole tighten deliciously as his cock stiffened to its last degree, and the spasms flooded his overloaded brain.
Kristy held him tight and she felt him stiffen and could even feel the pulses of his cock at the base of her sensitive lips as the hot white juice she loved flowed into her open womb.
"Oh yesssssssssss," she moaned, again and again, even as he came, and even as he relaxed atop her.
Their panting and gasping had barely ended, and his cock was still stiff up inside her, soaking in their mutual honey, when they both heard the sound of gentle applause. Their audience was very appreciative. David couldn't move, but Kristy raised her arm high and shot up a thumb, in a gesture of joy and triumph. | 4 |
5,024 | In the moon that is always rising. | "Wheresoever she was, there was Eden."
Mark Twain wrote that. I always thought it sounded cool. The ultimate compliment in six words. So unexpected in context, so complete in sincerity, so simple in expression. But I never knew what those words really meant until Kate taught me.
A friend of mine from the German department introduced us at a party he hosted. As parties go, that one was pretty restrained. No loud music. No dancing. No kegs. Just the soft sounds of a stereo and lots of conversation. Kate was a first-year graduate student in English; I was a second-year in math. Since I skipped the sixth grade and completed college in three years, it turned out Kate was actually a few months older than me.
We enjoyed many of the same activities. We both loved to paint and cook. (She was much better at both though.) She liked classical music too but wasn't the opera fiend I am. We did share a common passion for literature -- the gift of language -- and that's what we talked about when we hit it off. Who would have thought staying awake when my undergrad Russian Civ. class discussed WAR AND PEACE would help me meet the girl of my dreams?
Anyway, after that party we cooked a couple of meals for each other and hung out on the weekends. I took her to see the symphony play some Tchaikovsky; she even agreed to make the five-hour drive down to the Met to see LA CENERENTOLA with me.
I usually take relationships slowly. Yeah, I did kiss her after our first real date, but it was a while before we got into bed. It finally happened about a month after we began seeing each other. We ate dinner at our favorite Chinese restaurant and frittered most of the evening away talking. Conversations with Kate tend to be manic affairs -- she confided that hardly anyone besides her parents and her younger brother could keep up -- but apparently we were a match. We traded stories from our lost youth and filled each other in on the latest books we'd read. (Kate's was THE GRAPES OF WRATH for the second time that year; if you discount number theory textbooks, mine was THE LAND OF LAUGHS.) We discussed the singular habits of a small band of renegade geese that refused to migrate south with the others and contentedly remained at the lake waking half of campus up at daybreak even as cool October turned into cold November and the days grew ever shorter. After pondering the peculiar behavior of cola when salt is generously heaped into it, we swapped fairy tales. I told her the sad history of the Ring of the Nibelungs, and she spoke of the Butterfly Dream of Chuang-Tzu. Together, we wondered about Merlyn, frozen in wood by a sorceress' spell, and prophesied his liberation by the king who would one day return. We could easily have kept at it all night, feeding off each other's voices, but the attentions of the proprietor and her staff made it clear that we should depart.
Stepping outside into the only slightly chilly autumn air, we headed downhill the half-mile towards Kate's apartment. The afternoon had been one of the loveliest of the season -- Indian summer came late to the Northeast that year -- and the evening was, if anything, even more splendid. Although it was but ten o'clock on a Saturday night, somehow an inexplicable quiet surrounded us. Hardly anyone walked about; the traffic was subdued, almost non-existent. The footlights in front of the campus buildings lent the columned facades an otherworldly aura. Indeed, it was a magical night, the kind of eve when faeries mingle and dance with mortals under the naked oak trees; when nature and the heavens conspire to sculpt and present to us a perfect hour, a gift so that we may remember and, in remembering, preserve beauty if only as a memory; when a man and a woman would declare their love to each other, their longing and affection and desire witnessed solely by the earth below and the black velvet sky festooned with jewel-like stars and the harvest moon above. It was a night for lunatics and lovers and poets, a night for Kate and me.
Glancing up above the church steeple about a block ahead, I quoted, "The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, when the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night Troilus methinks mounted the Trojan walls and sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, where Cressid lay that night."
To my surprise, she continued where I'd left off. "In such a night did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew and saw the lion's shadow ere himself and ran dismay'd away."
"In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand upon the wild sea banks and waft her love to come again to Carthage."
"In such a night Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs that did renew old Aeson."
With exaggerated gestures I went on: "In such a night did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew and with an unthrift love did run from Venice as far as Belmont."
"In such a night did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, stealing her soul with many vows of faith and ne'er a true one."
"In such a night did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, slander her love, and he forgave it her," I finished, delighting in the rich cadence of the words and dissolving in a fit of gentle mirth.
Kate wore this huge smile on her face. "I didn't know you knew Shakespeare so well," said she, grasping my hand.
"Just the good parts," said I.
We continued quietly through certain half-deserted streets. I felt uneasy though. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wondered if this was the right time. "Screw your courage to the sticking-place. Tell her. Ask her," a small voice in my head encouraged.
"Fair Jessica, did we just announce that we're falling in love or am I imagining it?" I inquired, in a quavering voice.
Enveloped by a new silence even less amiable than the last, we approached the next street. The music of the spheres dimmed. The wind died down. The trees stopped swaying, their branches hanging solemnly in the mute air like my unanswered question. It was as though God finally reached five hundred quadrillion Mississippi and paused for a breath. In that interminable interval between one tick and the next, a single question hammered away, relentless in its urgency: "Did I just say the wrong thing?"
"Gentle Lorenzo, if you're dreaming, then so am I," she responded, tightening her grip on my hand -- and my heart -- with her words.
"Then we are such stuff as dreams are made on," I said, in my best Bogart voice which, unfortunately, was a truly pathetic imitation. But, nonetheless, the future opened out pregnant with possibility.
We waited at the curb while traffic whizzed by. I stared into her eyes. She stared into mine. Our lips met. My arms wrapped around Kate's back and pulled her close. Her hands leapt up to my face. We held the kiss.
A car horn broke the connection. We clasped each other's fingers and crossed the now still street. I brought her hand up to my lips and gave it a quick peck.
Another silence. This time, it satisfied.
We reached her apartment building, bounded up two flights of stairs with an alacrity of spirit, and entered her humble abode. I sat on the old, dilapidated couch in her tiny living room. She opened the fridge, grabbed a couple of beers, and handed me one. "Wait here a minute," she said before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.
"I'll put some music on," I told the rustling and banging that was Kate closeted behind the bathroom door. I rummaged through her disorganized CD collection, found what I was looking for, and put a Beethoven disc in Kate's little stereo. I heard a flush. She tirled at the pin and returned as the Hand of Fate started knocking on our door.
If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it.
I. Allegro con brio.
-------------------
Kate sits down next to me on the sofa. I drape my left arm around her shoulder and hold her. For a moment, there we sit and let the sounds of music creep into our ears. I turn around to look at her. Backlit by moonlight streaming in through the window, her face achieves an ethereal glow. She's as divine as a Raphael Madonna.
A bird squawks outside. Is it a nightingale or a lark? Or a goose? Does it matter?
My face sinks the two inches to meet hers. Our lips brush against each other's for an instant; my tongue darts out to wet them. I pull her lower lip into my mouth and suck on it briefly and lift my hands up to her cheeks to frame her face.Fingers splayed, I gently push her back into the couch. Our heads rotate in opposite directions and veer together until our noses rub. My tongue parts her lips and pounds against her teeth while Beethoven's fate motif resounds through the room. My hands finger the unbuttoned top of her blouse.
The gate opens. My tongue snakes inside to joust with hers. Kate's hands grip the back of my neck, pulling me in still closer. My hands caress her back. The kiss is a moment arrested in eternity.
I move her hair behind her ears. My lips tickle her nose, her cheeks jostle against mine, and the metal frames of our glasses clank. We remove them, and she climbs atop my lap. I tilt her head back to taste her neck.
Looking down her shirt, I see the top of her bra. My hands yank the shirt out of her skirt, then slip beneath to fly along her spine. On the third clumsy attempt, I succeed in unclasping the bra. She slides her fingers down the blouse and lifts it out. Through the cotton, I observe the outline of her hardening breasts. With her arms out of the way, I stare longingly at the tops of her breasts. My hands extricate themselves from under her blouse and reappear in front to fondle her chest through the fabric. Kate jumps a little when my palms cover her, and she slowly flows into me, moaning her approval as I tweak her nipples.
Her fingers unbutton my shirt. As she exposes my chest, her lips press against my skin. When she finishes, I wrestle the shirt off and chuck it across the room.
My turn. Fingers trace the contour of her collarbone and descend down her chest into the exposed cleavage. Unfastening the third button of her white blouse lets me slide it off her shoulders. Undoing the fourth completely reveals her bare breasts. I gaze at them with awe, wonder, respect, and adoration, and slowly glide my hands across their curves.
I force myself to surrender perfection and make brisk work of the remaining buttons. Bending my head to greet her chest properly, I kiss her clavicle and leisurely travel downwards. Teeth playfully gnaw at the skin immediately above her breasts. The rest of my mouth demands a piece of the action and soon takes over. As I tongue her breasts, the areolae stiffen. Small pink mountains burst out of a sea of skin. I nibble on her erect nipples the way a small rabbit might begin a meal. Her hands push my head into her chest, holding them there, spurring me on. The solitary sea subsumes me. Reverting to the instincts of infancy, I just suckle.
Eventually, my hands race across her inner thigh. She spreads her legs a little to admit my fingers into the cave of her skirt. Is this the Allegory of Love? (I couldn't see either Folly or Time, but I don't doubt Venus and Cupid were both there with us.) Kate kicks off her sandals and lifts up her ass. I relieve her of her purple panties and bring them up to my face. Sniffing deeply, I revel in their musky odor.
Tossing her underwear to the floor, our lips meet once more. This time her tongue worms its way into my mouth, and the combat begins anew.
II. Andante con moto.
Yearning like a god in pain, my erection strains uncomfortably into denim. Kate must have felt its throbbing moments before because her hands undo my belt buckle and unbutton my pants. She slides off me, and I get up and kick off my shoes and hop around comically trying to disentangle my feet from my jeans and boxers.
The air is cold, but my cock stands perfectly rigid. Kate gives it a friendly glance. Meeting my eyes, she kneels before me, toppling the unopened and by now forgotten bottles of Pete's Wicked. Her warm hands massage my balls.
I groan in ecstasy.
She dives between my legs, surfaces beneath my scrotum, and, taking each sac into her hot mouth, sucks my balls clean. Kate coos and runs her lips along the bottom of my shaft from its base up to the head. She strokes my length and stabs her tongue at the single cloudy tear dripping off the eye of my little cyclops. Then, she grazes the head of my dick; covering just its tip with her mouth, barely raking it with her teeth, the bottom of her tongue presses against it. Her lips encircle the annular indentation whence the foreskin once emerged.
I clench my jaw in pleasure.
My hands course through her hair as Kate releases the head and blows across it. Her fingers pull my skin tight at the base of the shaft. At first, she only takes the tip back in, bathing it in saliva. Kate inaugurates a bobbing motion. Her strokes are deliberate, each enveloping a little more of the shaft. The head never leaves her mouth; she licks it on every pass. Ere long, my entire cock vanishes into her, only to reappear and vanish again. Her hands clutch my butt.
I know my geyser will soon erupt. To delay the inevitable climax, I mentally recite the first twenty digits of pi over and over again. It works, and the suspense is perilously sustained.
Kate starts to rotate her mouth as she fucks me with her face. Her tongue slides along the bottom of my cylinder on every stroke.
I can't contain myself any longer. I tell her I'm coming. A finger slips into my anus.
I explode. She stops sucking and holds the bulging head of my dick in her mouth. An avalanche of cum tears down my mountain and buries her tongue in mounds of melting snow. A feasting presence so full of light, she accepts my gift.
III. Allegro.
Gazing into her cherubic face, as beautiful and innocent as a vision in a dream, I help Kate to her feet. I thank her. Then I kiss her, my tongue exploring the mouth I just shot into. I notice a few stray drops of whiteness upon her chin and lick the dribble off, sharing it with her.
I slide her blouse off and push her back down onto the sofa. My hand sprints down her chest to greet her waist. She sucks in a deep breath, and I unbutton her skirt. Sliding it off her legs, I stare at her body in its full splendor for the first time. Even Helen was but a shadow compared to this.
"You're beautiful," I remark, tremulously. It's the truth, but the words are inadequate.
I worship her like an acolyte reveres his master. Setting off on my pilgrimage by taking her toes into my mouth, I lift her legs up and lick the hollow behind her knees. My hands exalt in the smoothness of her skin. Methodically working towards the altar of the goddess, virtuoso lips kiss first one, then the other calf. Like a giant bird opening its wings, Kate parts her thighs. When I finally reach the temple, my fingers loop through her pubic hair. Pressing my hands against her slit, I shove a pair of fingers into her moist cunt, sliding them in and out to simulate fucking.
Kate's sighs are the music of Orpheus, the apotheosis of sound.
Eager lips usurp the fingers' ministrations. My tongue thrusts out, and the snake enters the Garden. It explores her pussy, teasing her. It penetrates her cunt, coaxing an endless string of soft and blissful moans. The tongue ultimately attacks her clit. Licking it. Sucking it. Leaving her gasping for breath. Rasping in desire. Shuddering in delight. The rising ocean crashes against crumbling dikes. The dams collapse. A searing paroxysm shatters the flood-gates and bathes her pulsating femininity in a torrent of warm ambrosia.
Ecstasy fuses with the orgiastic music of thunder and dissolves in a tender embrace.
IV. Allegro.
I stand up and kiss her, letting her taste of herself while I taste of myself. The nectar of the gods couldn't be as sweet. We migrate to her bedroom and fall onto her bed. Separated by a wall, Beethoven sounds thinner and less expansive but paradoxically more immediate and human as well.
Our hands scamper across each other's bodies. I return to her breasts and lick and kiss and nip at them like a condemned man savoring a final meal. My tongue dashes down her front and gets sucked into her navel the way a whirlpool or a black hole devours everything which gets in its way.
I lie down on her and cover her neck with my mouth, watching goose-bumps rise on her skin. My dick, even harder than it was when she blew me, rests right below her crack. Her legs spread, inviting me to enter. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.
"Should I go find a condom, Kate?" I ask, praying her response is negative.
Someone on Olympus smiles on me as she shakes her head. "Fuck me," she says desperately. "Just fuck me. I need you now."
I gladly oblige. The bow is drawn. The shaft flies true. With a sudden thrust, my tongue disappears into her mouth just as my dick is swallowed by her slit. Her cunt muscles respond to the intrusion by squeezing my member. Shifting my weight to my elbows, I initiate a frantic pumping and then gradually slow my strokes down. Kate lifts her butt off the bed, allowing me to plunge still deeper. I commence a circular motion that Kate matches. Initially, our movements are relaxed but swiftly become more violent and less controlled.
When I sense Kate's spasm approaching, I stop twisting and lift myself out of her. Ignoring her moans of protest and resisting her efforts to pull me back in, I rub the tip of my cock against her labia and circumscribe her clitoris with a thumb and forefinger. I know that by keeping her excruciatingly poised on the precipice of orgasm I'm only delaying my own release, but I also know that easing off now will make the climax that much stronger when it arrives. I'm not sure she agrees because her nails dig into the sensitive skin right below my armpits.
Biting into her shoulders, I give her what she wants, placing the knob back inside to emphatic sighs of welcome. With leisurely strokes, I burrow my length home. Like a python, Kate's pussy constricts about my cock.I enter into a rhythm, alternating slow strokes with fast ones, and after a minute abandon the slow ones altogether. Over the plaintive wails of the bedsprings, I hear her mantra: "Harder. Harder. Harder." Language is only rarely so eloquent.
Kate's fingers sink into my back while I drive in and out of her cunt. Her legs wrap around my ass. Heightening our frenzy, her body shoves back in time with my thrusts. Suddenly, the walls of her vagina convulse around me. She arches her back. A primal scream echoes in my ears, and Kate thrashes furiously underneath. Her thighs hold me in a vise-like grip. I stop fighting my orgasm.
A shudder, a tremor, and a heroic palpitation. Then a whimper, a trembling, and a final quiver. Six spurts of sperm fly into her drenched cleft.
We die the little death and are resurrected to die again.
I pull out of her and rub my cum-covered dick against her clit. It takes but a few moments: She gasps.
The rill sings its liquid notes and fades melodiously away.
Encore?
Sheltered by a luxurious afterglow, we lay on her bed, her head leaning against my shoulder, my right leg carelessly hooked through hers, her hands drifting across my chest, our souls grappled each to the other with hoops of steel. I looked at her, opened my mouth to say something, and changed my mind. The silence was far more satisfying than words could ever be. | 1 |
5,028 | Summer of Sin | "Put it away, Page," I said. He was playing with his Tamagotchi again. Well, that was the slang for it, since that's what the first one was called. In fact, it was called a "Palm Pet." It was only supposed to be for guys over 18, so naturally, Page had one, even though he wasn't 18 yet. He liked it. It featured a girl. You could make her do just about anything you wished. Page undressed her very slowly the first day he got her. Then, as he gave his sexual urges freer reign, he made her do other things. "Put it away," I told him again. "She's coming."
"I know. She's cumming!" Page said.
"Not here, numbnuts. The prosecutor," I told Page.
"Oh." Page said. He fumbled with his Palm Pet, slipped it into his pocket. Together we watched the woman coming out of the courthouse. They said she was a "top prosecutor." She put a lot of men and boys in prison. We watched her crossing the street, briefcase in hand, her feminist lackey beside her. God knows what he was. "Junior top prosecutor"?
Page stepped out first. Page. Fucking Page. I think he was going to do some kind of Mark David Chapman, John Lennon thing. You know, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am? I admire your work. May I have your autograph?"
But my finger was like, you know, "This is it." At last. It had taken us two weeks to smuggle the gun parts into the center of the city, past all the guards. The first time we assembled it and tried firing it, we almost killed ourselves. My hands were still burned from that. Page put out one of his burned hands toward the woman, like he wanted to shake hands with her. Her lackey, sensing trouble, darted in front of her. His lackey eyes narrowed, and he pushed at Page.
"Get back, Page!" I shouted. I wasn't much more experienced at shooting laser rifles than I was at assembling them. The lackey turned, looked at me. He reached into his jacket, fast. I fired. There was an eruption where his neck connected to his head, and the head just kind of popped up, like a ball, ripped neck muscles flaying uselessly at open air where the head had once been connected, where all those lackey thoughts had travelled down from his brain to the places that actually worked normally, like his asshole.
(His asshole, give it credit, continued to function normally. At the severing of his head, his shithole made a nice big crap in his thousand-dollar pants.)
The "top prosecutor" watched as her lackey's headless body crumpled backward and fell to the street. She seemed shocked. Her eyes looked past his body toward his head, rolling aimlessly down the street. I think in that moment of horror she actually, in locating his head, tried to say something to it, but then her higher brain prevailed and countermanded the order, realizing it was quite useless.
She turned toward me. It's interesting how someone powerful looks when they're at the wrong end of the barrel of a gun. At first, there was rage in her eyes. Page was still trying to do something smart-ass, like ask her for her autograph. I felt like shooting his head off too, but I needed him. He was useful as a diversion if nothing else...
Page's antics caused the woman to turn her glance away from me and look at him. At the same moment, she tore open her handbag and reached into it. I never found out whether there was pepper spray in there, or a real weapon. She focused on Page, I think, in her last moment of life, because he was nearer. Amazing how the primal instinct goes for things like that, isn't it? I have a gun, but since guns were only invented in the last 300 years or so, she goes for Page, because he's nearer. And weirder. But he was, you know, unarmed. A weird-fucking dude, a threat to the social order, probably somebody who needed to be prosecuted right away but, nonetheless, unarmed.
I fired. The shot missed. The prosecutor dug around in her handbag, reaching for whatever it was she was looking for. Lipstick? I fired again. I hit her that time. Right in the chest. She had no tits to speak of, so I didn't consider it a loss of anything important. Her insides became her outsides, and her outsides just kind of disappeared. She fell backward, the blast knocking her a good five yards before she hit the street. I ran up to her, aimed at her head, and fired again. I didn't want to take any chances. Doctors are good these days. Especially with expensive patients, like her, who earn them a good return because of insurance. I aimed for the 'brain,' if you could call it that, given all the feminist crap that was clogging it. Her head blew open, and I felt a wave of satisfaction and relief.
Almost at once I heard sirens.
"Shit man, you did it!" Page said. He danced around me and the woman's body. He put a rolled-up fist to one of his eyes and pretended to film the whole thing, like he was going to put it on the 10 o'clock news.
"Well, yeah. I guess I did," I said. My first kill. No, my second. The lackey was my first. I hadn't been sure, five minutes ago, if I'd have the guts to do it. Now I had two notches in my belt. Too bad I wasn't wearing one.
"Shit, and I wanted to get her autograph too," Page told me.
"Now you can have anything you want," I said. I looked at Page. I motioned towards the woman's purse.
"No, man," Page said. "That would be, like, stealing. You know, desecrating the dead. This is for Liberation, right?"
"Yeah," I said. "But we could use the money for the Cause."
Page considered a moment. I heard sirens wailing louder. I thought I heard a gun go off, somewhere. Screams reached my ears distantly. It was like I was in a vacuum, even though I was standing out on the sidewalk, next to the street.
"Yeah. For the Cause!" Page said. Then he leaped down on the woman's purse. Almost at once he got hold of some money, actual Benjamins, and he tore them out of her purse and lifted them up to me.
"Let's go," I said, turning. I didn't want the money. I needed to be able to shoot and run. Page didn't have a gun. Let him hold the fucking money.
Another gunshot. I think that one was close to my head. 'Do Unto Others As They Do Unto You,' you know. I guess the feminist lackey's "Junior Prosecutor" had some friends. Other prosecutors, cops, court clerks, who knows? Anybody authorized to carry a gun in the center of the city. And that was the whole fucking establishment, except for people like me and Page.
Moving as if in slow motion, I broke from the vacuum that seemed to enclose me. I gaped with a kind of childlike innocence at the people nearest me. Yes. Nearest. My primal mind worked the same as the prosecutor's. I didn't know whether they were armed or unarmed. I fired. Once. Twice. Again. I heard more screams. Louder. More urgent. I saw blood but paid no attention.
"Let's go, Page!" I said. He took one final camera-look at the prosecutor and her dead lackey through his curled fist.
We ran out into traffic. Horns. Screeching tires. Someone cursed, and I fired in the direction the curse had come from. I don't know if I hit him or not.
A Porsche stopped.
"Nice car," Page said.
"Too unique," I said. I saw a Ford. It was one of those big fucking vehicles families ride around in these days. It had stopped, near the Porsche, in the middle of the street. They always tell these people, 'don't rubberneck,' but they do it anyway. I aimed for the driver.
BLAM! BLAM! Two shots. The side of his window shattered. His head flew off and bounced around inside the front part of his van and then plopped into his wife's lap. She was sitting beside him. I fired at her. I hit her head too.
"Head shots," Page said, echoing G. Gordon Liddy. He yanked open the driver's door. He gaped at the interior. It was drenched in blood. "God, what a mess."
"Get in!" I said to Page. I pushed him from behind."All this stuff will ruin my clothes!" Page protested. I shoved hard. He gave a wail and went sprawling into the body fat and blood that now soaked the whole interior of the vehicle. At the same time, the driver, headless, decided to come out for a rest break. His body slumped towards me. His arm dangled down into the street. It was as if he were reaching for the ground that would soon hold him forever. I climbed over him.
Page threw the woman out the other side of the vehicle. I pushed the driver down onto the asphalt below. He made a sickening thud as he hit the street.
"Goddammit, there's a dog in here!" Page shouted. I heard loud barking. I turned and saw some big monster trying to bite Page's head off. I fired. It burst into blood and bone fragments, and one of the beast's bones, flying past my head, almost put my eye out. Imagine that. I've got cops and God-knows-what shooting at me, and I almost lose an eye thanks to some dumb dog.
I threw the laser rifle into Page's lap. I yanked the driver's side door closed. Page's door on his side of the Ford van was still open. I grabbed the wheel. The vehicle had begun rolling, or perhaps had never quite stopped, and now I hit the gas hard. We lurched forward. A gunshot hit the front windshield, and it caved in on us. I blinked, found I still had both my eyes from that mess, and shoved the glass toward Page. A clear view of the street presented itself through the broken-open front of the van's windscreen. I felt chilled air on my face. At the same time, I heard, softly, the purring of the interior heating system. The van was like a body half-blown away, but with the other half, unknowingly innocent of it all, still functioning normally. Like the prosecutor's asshole, dumping a load in his pants after I'd already removed his head.
"Shut your door, Goddammit, Page!" I shouted. I looked in his direction. He was tripping on the whole scene, the glass, the sudden possession in his lap of my gun, all the while the side door open next to him.
I heard a slam. More gunshots. I careened around the back of a truck and looked over at Page again. He got the door closed. His side of the van struck a car a moment later.
"Watch where you're going," Page grinned. He liked movies with wild car scenes in them. Now we were the stars of one. Dirty Mike and Crazy Page. Too bad we didn't have any Mary with us. Just some dumb, dead dog.
"God, this is a mess," I said, looking briefly down at my lap. There was blood, human remains, glass, everything all over the inside of this (formerly) luxurious Ford van. The heating system warmed it all, combating the chill blowing in from the front of the shattered windscreen.
"Where's the fucking Lift Bar?" I asked Page. I let go with one hand from the steering wheel and groped along the blood-spattered dashboard.
"This isn't a lift area!" Page shouted to me. He grinned as we hit another car. "Damn Toyota," I heard Page mutter under his breath, still grinning.
"Goddammit, I know this isn't a lift area! Where's the Bar?" I screamed at Page. I was feeling kind of desperate now. I was still hearing gunshots and they weren't far away.
"We'll hit something if you Lift!" Page warned me.
"We'll get our ass blown off if we stay Grounded," I told him.
"There's no windshield! We can't do a Jump!" Page told me. Grinning, for we were still careening wildly down the street, he pointed at the shattered windscreen.
"Hell, I know that! I just want some Lift!" I yelled back.
"This isn't a lift area--" Page began. I found the Lift Bar and yanked on it. Suddenly, the van's tires drew in. Engines spiraled neatly downward from the underside of the van. We both heard a roaring sound.
And then we went up. A hard burst of unfriendly fire scudded beneath us, just missing us. A moment more of being Grounded and we might have both been killed. I felt a hard bump as our van thudded into something overhead. There was a shower of sparks, and something, a sign I guess, tumbled past us and slammed into the street.
"See? You hit something! This isn't a lift area!" Page said. But his grin widened as our van rose higher, and we topped a building's roof. A spectacular sunset greeted our eyes. Gleaming in the setting sun were the Sky Dwellings. Prime real estate. I guess at one time people could lie in grassy fields and look up and just see clouds. But now, with anti-grav technology, all that empty space in the sky was starting to fill up.
"Let's go," I said. I groped along the dashboard again, feeling for the Lift Forward button. It was hard to find it in amongst the blood and bodily tissue streaking the dash.
"Can't. There's no fucking windshield," Page said.
"We can't Jump," I said. Meaning, of course, that we couldn't leave Earth's atmosphere. I wasn't sure if this model of Ford was built for it, anyway. "But we can damn well hit the gas." Meaning, of course, not the gas pedal, that was for Groundside. Rather, the Lift Forward button.
I found it. There was a blast of air through the shattered windscreen as we lurched forward. Page screamed. The wind drowned it. The gunshots I'd been hearing faded away.
"I can't see!" Page, his eyes narrowed to slits, complained through the wind. My eyes were barely open themselves. The Ford streaked through the sky, over the city below, making the air rush in on us. The Sky Dwellings loomed larger as we rushed toward them.
"Don't worry. I can see well enough to know when to stop," I told Page.
"You'd better," Page said. The buildings floating in the distance bulked larger in our windscreen. "I don't want to be a pancake," Page said.
A burst of laser fire hit the back of our Ford. It careened wildly in response. I clung to the wheel. Somehow I kept the Ford from dipping into a fatal dive. Page turned, looked back. The next thing I knew the laser rifle was going off beside me. Page was firing. I glanced toward him. With a hand on the driver's side door, precariously gripping the window frame in the door, his upper body was completely out of the window. He was sitting with his ass on the bottom of the window frame. He looked like he was in a movie. Except he wasn't.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
"Fucking Page!" I yelled.
"I almost hit one!" Page shouted.
THHHWUNK! Our Ford careened again as a well-placed shot slammed into us. I didn't dare turn around. A quick glance in the rear-view showed what I most feared. Two gaping holes, near the back of the Ford. We had twin moon roofs now. But the engine showed in the dashboard that the damage done by the laser blasts was causing it to overheat.
"Damn, they were quick!" I said to Page. Meaning, the skyborne police vehicles. I guess I hadn't counted on them being that quick. "They were quick, Page. Too quick," I said. I looked over at him.
"We ain't gonna make it," Page said. He slipped back into the Ford. His face was pale. He was holding the laser rifle aloft. He pulled the trigger. I cringed. But nothing happened. Our gun was empty. We had no reloads for it.
I gazed ahead of us. The Sky Buildings were coming up fast. I saw people standing on a terrace about midway up one of the nearer buildings. They pointed.
"They're pointing at us!" I said. I had found a piece of the windscreen that was still intact. It was over in the leftmost corner of the (formerly) screened area.
"Yeah," Page said. I glanced at him and saw he had a similar setup; a small corner of glass that he could hunch behind to see through, and keep the wind out of his eyes. (Actually out of only one eye; he had to close the nearer one. The wind was coming in too strong to keep both of them open.) "We're the life of their party," Page said. He shoved his rifle through the broken portion of the windscreen and pulled the trigger. Nothing.
"Page..." I said. There was a sense of unreal coolness in my voice.
"Yeah?" he shouted over the roar of the incoming wind.
"We've got no chance against the cops," I said. He heard me, somehow, even though I didn't think I'd said it loud enough.
"No chance! They came up so fast!" Page yelled to me.
"So fast! But we got her!" I yelled to Page.
"Yeah," Page agreed.
"Page?" I asked. "Did you ever crash a party?"
"Hmmm?" Page asked. He looked at me and grinned. It was all the permission I needed. We both knew what kind of people lived in the Sky Dwellings.
"I've never been invited to a party, actually," I thought I heard Page say. As he said it, I instinctively looked down. Down at the seat. The Sky Dwellings were coming up very fast now. The people on the terrace had stopped pointing and were drawing back, beginning to run. I wanted to stare at them, at their horrified faces, as we shot straight into the middle of them, but instead I found myself gazing down at the seat, at Page's lovely Palm Pet. What did Page call her? Chloe, I think.
Bye, bye, Chloe.
THE ENDWhen visiting Barnes and Noble, ask for: Jock Sturges' Radiant Identities and David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence. Support art!
Join the world's greatest organization! Send $35.00 to The North American Man/Boy Love Association for a one-year membership. NAMBLA, P.O. Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018.
Naughty Naked Dreamgirls (Library of Congress ISSN: 1070-1427) is copyright 1998 and a trademark of Andrew Roller.
Need a book? http://www.amazon.com | 3 |
5,030 | Snowed in With Emily | "No! And that's final," Mom continued in a raised voice. "It's snowing already, and Barb and I are taking my car."
Barb got divorced about 6 months ago. She and Mom started going to a singles dance every Friday night since then. Usually, I was allowed to use Mom's car, and they went in Barb's van.
"Besides, you've only had your license for two months. And since it's snowing, I told her to bring Emily just in case we get snowed in. Barb is picking up pizza on her way over."
"Great! Not only can't I go out, I have to babysit a stupid kid. Just great!" I said, including this new information in my ongoing complaint.
"Stop. It's no use arguing. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make the best of it. Maybe you could play checkers or some of our other games."
"Great," I said, still sulking.
Later... "Here they are. Go help them bring in the pizza and snacks."
Barb looked sexy tonight. We had been neighbors ever since I could remember. We moved out to the suburbs two years ago, but she and Mom remained best friends. I had called her by her first name since learning to talk. Barb had lost about 20 pounds right after her divorce. Even with her boots on over her shoes, I still liked her black stockings that showed between her coat and boots. When she sat down a bag of snacks on the counter, her coat opened enough to reveal a short skirt. "Whoa! Barb," I was thinking, "You look sharp tonight." But I only said, "You look nice tonight, Barb." Then, as I hoped, she took off her coat and modeled her new outfit. Although not well endowed, her tighter clothes showed off her new, slimmer figure. I could see her nipples raise to little bumps through her sheer bra and blouse as she turned around in front of me, as if she liked being looked at.
"You're getting so big, Bobby. Sorry we have to take your car tonight," meaning Mom's car, which I usually used on the weekends. "And thanks for keeping an eye on Emily for me." Barb never teased me about being small for my age.
Emily came in as Barb was turning. She looked embarrassed by her mother's 'modeling.' Taking off her coat and stamping the snow off her gym shoes, pulling off the knit cap and shaking out her pigtails - with ribbons - she said, "Oh, Mother. Bobby doesn't want to check you out."
I disagreed but didn't say anything, noticing things about Barb that I never noticed before.
"We'd better go, Barbie," said Mom, "It's supposed to start snowing worse. Maybe we shouldn't even go tonight."
"Maybe we should go back home, Mom," suggested Emily hopefully. "I don't want to stay here."
"That's enough, young lady. You're not going back home just so you can run over to Jackie's house. And just because you're almost 13 doesn't mean you can't still get a spanking. Do you want a spanking right now, in front of Bobby?" I could tell Barb had had enough of Emily's "lip."
"You could both stay here if you don't want to drive tonight, Barb," offered Mom.
"No, I just got this outfit. Let's go right now," putting her coat back on, heading for the door. "You kids get along. Don't forget, you used to take baths together. Bobby, Emily will be 13 next week. See if she will tell you what she wants. I can't get any suggestions out of her." And they hustled out the door, beginning to yak before it was closed.
Emily and I looked at each other, both wishing we were somewhere else. But knowing we were 'stuck' here for the evening, I opened the pizza box and said, "I would have liked watching you get a spanking, Em, especially a bare-bottomed spanking," and started to snicker.
She fumed a moment longer, then burst out laughing. "Don't eat all of it, you pig!" and came over to the table, kicking off her wet shoes, standing next to me as I sat in the best chair, the one with arms. "Do you still have cable? Mom had ours disconnected."
"Your mom was looking sexy tonight."
"You pervert. She's your Mom's best friend," confiding, "Sometimes she embarrasses me the way she 'advertises.' It looked like you were really checking her out," as she grabbed her second piece, spilling some on the floor.
"Look who's calling who a pig!" I joked, "You're the one slopping food on the floor," and playfully slapped her fanny through her jeans.
She gave me a funny look and sat down, "Maybe we should get plates and go see what's on TV. Do you get any movie channels? Friday nights have the scariest movies," then she started joking, "But I won't be scared with a 'big strong boy' like you around," mimicking her mother, "Or am I being too sour castic?"
"It's not 'sour-castic' it's 'sarcastic,' and yes, you are. Maybe your mom was right about you needing a spanking. Besides, it's almost your birthday," offering another excuse to spank her.
"Thank you for correcting me, Mr. Webster!" continuing to dig, "Aren't we grown up now? In high school, a driver's license... What next? The honor roll?" laughing.
"Actually, I did make the honor roll, so Mom would give me the car every weekend. But you can see how long that lasted."
Reaching to get plates out of the cupboard, she turned and said, "If we were allowed to cook, I could make cookies - so we won't starve," now joking about the bagful of snacks on the counter.
We had never been friends before, but she seemed older tonight, more like another teenager instead of a kid. I never knew she was such a joker. I went over to help her get the plates. As I reached up, she smacked me on the behind!
With platefuls of pizza and cans of pop, we headed to the living room. "Mom said we should play checkers, Emily. Doesn't THAT sound like fun?" laughing again. We had never laughed together before, as far as I could remember.
My clicking through the channels was beginning to get on her nerves. "Such a 'man,'" she said. "Let me have that." And she tried to grab it from me. We wrestled on the couch for a moment. She was stronger than I expected. I noticed she had on some kind of perfume. Momentarily distracted, she wrenched the controller from my hand and stuffed her hands up under her sweatshirt and doubled over to prevent me from recovering it. We rolled back onto the other end of the big couch, and I pulled her arms out, pinning them to the couch, sitting on top of her, my knees straddling her tummy.
She laughed as I looked at her empty hands. "Where did it go, Bobby?" she teased. Looking down in front of me at her baggy sweatshirt, I distinguished 3 bumps, and realized the middle one had to be the controller. She continued laughing at my indecision, twisting and wiggling so I had to hold tight.
Not knowing whether I should reach under her sweatshirt to retrieve it, events took care of themselves as she twisted too far over. We fell on the floor, rolling, and the controller fell out. I grabbed it and jumped back into my seat.
As if nothing had happened, she stood, shook her pigtails, and asked, "Want another pop?" and headed to the kitchen.
"Yes, thanks, Em," now totally discomfited by my former neighbor.
I was small for my age, but so was she. Those two brand new bumps on her chest and the lingering aroma of her perfume was having an unexpected effect on me. "Just a kid," I told myself in warning.
Emily's strawberry blond hair, ribboned in pigtails, freckles, braces, along with her small stature and baggy sweatshirt all gave her a "little kid" look, but her strength, humor, and the two new 'buds' told me she was more grown than I first thought.
She came bouncing back into the room, jumped onto the couch, right beside me. She sat cross-legged, with her bent knee resting over mine. "Here's your pop. What do you want to watch?" and she pulled the comforter off the back of the couch and put it over our laps.
I swear I don't know why, but I put my arm around her after popping open my Pepsi. She leaned against me and suggested, "Let's watch a scary movie."
"Sure, Emily. I'll protect you," continuing our joke. The cable movie station was showing previews of tonight's movies. ABDUCTED HIGH SCHOOL WITCH was on next, followed by BARBIE'S FIRST TIME. We laughed at the title and preview, both thinking of her mom all dressed up and going to the single's dance. We didn't even have to say anything.The preview showed a close-up of a man's hand unsnapping a lady's bra and pulling her down - off camera. That really cracked us up. We just looked at each other and began laughing so hard we almost cried.
As the 'ABDUCTED WITCH' movie started, she snuggled in closer. It felt great. Snuggled there, the smell of pizza with an overtone of her perfume, her pigtail tickling my neck.
We began a rambling, disjointed conversation, just kind of seeing the movie, but not paying much attention. "Aren't grown-ups a riot?" she asked. "My god. You'd think they were going to a prom or something. Mom took over an hour to get ready. And you should see some of her new underwear!"
"I wish I could," only partly joking. "Mom got some new undies after she got divorced five years ago. No, make that six years ago. I had just turned 10."
"Why, Bobby, have you been looking at your own mom's underwear? You ARE a pervert!" she said, laughing. She poked me in the ribs a few times. "I saw how you looked at my mom's tits."
Embarrassed, she was right. When she stopped poking my ribs, she put her other hand on my leg. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, noting my silence.
"Hey, I don't look at my mom's underwear, OK? I just noticed it in the laundry when I brought my clothes down. That's all," I said, feeling a need to explain.
"Oh, Bobby. You're funny. Are you blushing?" She looked right into my face, which made me blush even more, of course. Her left hand was still resting on my leg, and when she looked in my face, she reached her right hand over to the middle of my chest. Her blue eyes struck me. Another thing I had never noticed. Emily suddenly seemed like a different person.
She looked back at the TV as a woman screamed, tied to a wall, arms and legs spread. As we watched the scene, still not listening to the dialog, her fingers slipped between the buttons on my plaid shirt, touching my bare skin. "Maybe this will be a scary movie," she said, snuggling even closer to me.
The pop was getting to us. I really needed to go to the bathroom but didn't want to get up. I think she felt the same way. My arm was getting stiff, too. Finally, I pinched her on the side and said, "I got to take a whiz," and got up.
"I'll put the pizza away," she said as she headed back to the kitchen, adding "and I got to whiz, too!" teasing me on my archaic choice of words.
When I came back downstairs, she was already on the couch in the same spot. Her sweatshirt was over the back of the reclining chair! Looking from her sweatshirt back to her, I saw the straps of her white T-shirt above the comforter. She pulled the blanket aside and said, "Come on, they're getting to a good part, where they light candles all around her and strap her to a table. And wait till you see what she's wearing, Bobby," patting the spot on the couch for me to sit.
I looked back at her sweatshirt.
"I was getting too hot in that thing under our blanket. Come on, I'm getting cold."
Her 'buds' were more prominent now, with just the tight T-shirt with the shoulder straps. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her golf ball-sized tits pushed straight out.
Sitting down, I suggested, "Why don't I rub your back while we watch TV and then you can rub mine. OK?"
"Sure, Bobby. Hurry under here. I'm getting cold! How should I sit?" as I sat down beside her.
"Scoot over. Then you can lay across my lap, Em." We slid down about a foot, and she laid across my lap. She pulled the throw pillow down and put her head and shoulders on it. The blanket was covering her except for her head. Her back was in the middle of my lap as I began massaging outside her T-shirt. I could hardly detect those two tiny 'buds' pressing against my left leg, but just knowing they were there was getting me stiff. "Lift up a minute, Em." I adjusted my pants. Surprisingly, the observant Emily didn't comment, but just let me adjust myself. A quiet chuckle as she settled back, enjoying the back rub.
"Want your spankings now, Emily?" I said, patting her fanny as she laid across my lap. "Let's see, you'll be 13, right?" and slapped her a little harder to see what she would do.
"I could hardly feel that through these jeans, Bobby. Besides, I thought you were just going to rub my back."
Resting my hand on her firm fanny through those jeans was making me even stiffer. I decided to try a harder spank. Moving the cover, I gave her a harder one. SMACK!
"Ow!"
SMACK! "If you want your back rub, you have to let me spank you first."
"Ow! Was that two or three, Bobby?"
"Only the first one. The others were just warm-ups."
SMACK, SMACK!
"Ouch! You'd better give me a good back rub when you're done, that's all I can say," she said as she squirmed back and forth.
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! with the third one being the hardest. She didn't say anything but continued to squirm.
She was trying not to say anything, so I challenged her, "I bet I can make you say 'ouch' on the next ones."
"No, you can't," she said, accepting my dare.
I moved our blanket completely off her rear end and gave her two more hard ones. She squirmed and wiggled, bending her knees so her feet would block my swing, but she didn't say anything. "Keep your feet down, Em, or else I might have to start over."
"That's not fair, Bobby. I shouldn't even let you spank me. It better be a good back rub."
"Tell you what, Emily. If you pull your jeans down so I can spank you on your panties, I won't spank so hard." I rubbed her fanny lightly while she was deciding.
"Well, OK. But they better be lots softer." Then she knelt up, unsnapped her jeans, pulled down the zipper, and pushed them down towards her knees.
Her white cotton panties had little flowers all over them. They fit snugly. She laid back across my lap, and I put my hand on her bottom, sliding the material around against her skin.
"Not so hard, remember."
"OK. How's this?" as I smacked her much softer, almost a pat. She still squirmed each time I spanked her. As she squirmed, I put my hand on her thigh and parted her legs. After each remaining spank, I parted them a little farther, finally reaching the limit of her bunched-up jeans. My timing was irregular so she wouldn't know when the next one was coming. I pulled the cover back over her when I finished, hoping she would leave her jeans down while I rubbed her back. I immediately started massaging, and to my relief, she didn't make a move to pull up her pants.
"Have you seen this movie before?" knowing she had. "What happens next?" We watched in silence as the "witch" was led into the stone chamber, hands tied behind her, a chain attached to her studded, leather collar. She was to be punished for casting spells. The high school witch was almost naked, but they never showed a complete front shot.
My hands were massaging under her T-shirt now, on her back and sides, sometimes sliding a finger under the edge of her panties around the top and sometimes around the bottom edge. I even rubbed her armpits almost to her chest, glancing along the edge of her breasts. No objections so far. I ventured to rub her fanny and the backs of her legs and even the insides of her thighs. As my fingers 'accidentally' touched her panties between her legs, I noticed they felt moist. She still squirmed sometimes, even though I wasn't spanking.
We both jumped at the sound of the phone. Neither of us wanting to move or break our own "spell." Mom and Barb would not be home for another two hours. Who could be calling?
"Are you two OK?" asked Mom's voice.
"We're fine. Just watching TV. We cleaned up the pizza already," thinking that was why she called.
"Get Emily on the other phone, Bobby."
"Hi, Bev," said Emily from the kitchen phone. She had pulled up her jeans and run to the kitchen phone when I answered the one in the living room.
"Kids, it's really getting bad outside. We're going to spend the night here at the Holiday Inn. The radio is saying nobody should be driving."
A clicking, then Barb's voice, "Honey, you'll need to find something to sleep in and spend the night at Bev's house. You can find something to wear in one of her drawers or maybe use one of Bobby's shirts. You can sleep in Aunt Bev's bed. OK?"
Silence.
"Like I have a choice. Crap. Will I miss gymnastics practice tomorrow?" Emily finally replied.
"Honey, gymnastics will probably be cancelled. Everything's getting cancelled."
"OK, Mom. We'll be fine. Did you meet a guy or something?"
"Don't get smart. We're snowed in. You two should be fine there. We'll call in the morning. And I meant it about not being too old for a spanking, young lady." Then to me, "Has she been helping, Bobby?"
"Well, yes. She cleaned up the pizza leftovers and put them in the fridge. We're just watching TV," coming to Emily's defense. "We might play Checkers."
"Well, you kids take care. Find something to sleep in in Bev's dresser, Emily. Good night."
After we all hung up, Emily came skipping into the living room laughing. Her laughter blended with the howling, blowing wind outside. "Checkers?" she asked, giggling.
"What should we do next?" different possibilities spinning in our heads? "It's your turn to rub my back. Or should I give you more spankings first? Or maybe we should find you a nightie. We could make some popcorn and watch the late, late movies."
"I want to see the choice of nighties first," she decided.
She was pulling off her socks as we bounded up the stairs. "Wait," I said as we entered Mom's room. "I get to pick it out, OK?"
As she stopped to consider, I noticed her 'buds' looked even bigger when she was standing up straight.When she noticed me looking at her chest, she didn't try to slouch or hide them. She just smiled at me and let me look. And as I continued to look, with her tacit permission, her nipples poked forward, changing shape before my eyes, like BBs on golf balls.
"Then I get to pick out something for you to sleep in," her words not reaching me right away.
"What?"
"If you get to pick out what I have to wear, then I get to pick out what you have to wear. That's only fair."
"I don't know," I finally said.
"Then maybe I'll just wear my sweatshirt," as she opened mom's jewelry drawer - her first random choice. We looked at the assortment of jewelry. The end of a flashlight covered by a cloth box struck my eye. "What's this flashlight doing here?" as I pulled out a white, plastic, pointed flashlight. "Where's the bulb?"
Emily doubled over with laughter. She couldn't talk. Tears formed in her eyes again. "Oh, Bobby. I don't believe you!" still laughing. "Don't you know what this is?"
I had never seen it before. "We keep the other flashlights in the kitchen drawer by the garage."
"Sit down on the chair a minute," leading me to the wooden chair next to mom's bed. "Close your eyes while I 'flash' this on you, 'Big Boy'. I'll show you how it works. Jackie's mom has one of these. We play with it sometimes when she's gone."
I sat there expecting to see light through my closed eyelids. Instead I heard a buzzing noise. Suddenly I felt her push something against my chest through my flannel shirt. It tickled. She touched it against my nipple and I pulled away, opening my eyes. I took it from her hand and felt it. It was vibrating like an electric sander in shop class. Looking closer, turning it this way and that, I finally asked, "What's it for?"
"It's a vibrator!"
"And?" looking back at her, still not getting the joke. "What does it do?"
"Women use them, Bobby. They put this against themselves and tickle, like giving yourself a massage." she was rubbing it on her shoulders and tummy, down to her panties. "Didn't you ever hear of a vibrator? Jackie's Mom has one. We played with it once when she wasn't home. I don't know exactly how they work. Maybe we could play with it."
Feeling my skin turn color, I said, "Like a sex thing? But why would old people use them? Mom is almost 40. She wouldn't use one, would she? Is that what makes the blood come out?"
"Bobby, I don't want to be 'sarcastic', but you need to learn a few things. Let's play with this for my massage. It might feel good on my back." Then twisting off the vibrator, she looked into the next drawer. "We can talk more about this later, but I want to see my choices now." We both noticed with relief how messy her underwear and nightie drawers were. We could get everything out and just throw stuff back in and she wouldn't know if we had opened it or not. There were panties of every color. Some silky, some just strings with a cloth patch, some with ruffles, and some stained, cotton 'everyday' panties. There was the same variety in the nightie drawer. Some you could see right through.
Instantly turned on, just seeing her hand clearly through the pink nightgown she was holding up, I tentatively said, "Try that one."
Bargaining again, she replied, "Maybe I will. But only if you agree to wear what I tell you."
Passion overcoming judgment, I said, "Sure."
Then in a dry, raspy voice, "Can I stay here and watch you try it on?"
"You stay here. I'll go in the bathroom and try it on. I MIGHT come out and model it for you, since you seemed to like watching my mom model her clothes," chiding me again.
I couldn't speak. Sat on the chair, waiting, mind locked up without words. Dick hard as a rock, but not daring to 'adjust' myself through my jeans for fear of shooting right now.
The next minute seemed like 10. She walked out. Beauty. No jeans. No T-shirt. Only her flowered panties under the nightie. I could see everything clearly. Her pink nipples. She seemed uncommonly meek for a change. Not talking. Looking down, as if waiting for my approval. "You look great, Em. I didn't know you were so grown-up, but those panties don't match. Either take the panties off or find some that go with it."
She pulled her panties down and stood up, kicking them off. I could see the beginnings of a small blond bush over her still bare lips.
I walked to her and took her hand. "We can try some more outfits on later. Let's go back downstairs and I'll rub your back some more, watch TV a little bit. Ummm, for some reason, I feel kind of nervous," as I led her downstairs.
She was strangely quiet, then, half way down she blurted, "Just your T-shirt and underwear for now," telling me what to wear while I rubbed her back.
Without talking we assumed the same positions we were in before the phone call. Me in my underwear and T-shirt, she in mom's nightie, the blanket over us. I don't think either of us heard a word as the witch ceremony continued. Evidently she had escaped somehow and been caught again. Now the high school witch had leg irons, handcuffs, and the leather collar with a chain leash. It was an erotic scene, but almost comical - 20 grown men and women, all dressed up, with a naked high school girl in chains. As the TV characters staked her out on the concrete floor - legs and arms stretched out with chains, my hands were feeling something much softer.
We were both aware that I wasn't rubbing her back anymore. She had scooted forward so her buns were centered on my lap. My left hand was now under her nightie 'massaging' her firm breasts which were suspended between my leg and her pillow. My right hand was on her fanny, thighs, and touching the now-moist lips. Her legs spread a little farther apart every minute or two. I could feel the peach fuzz on her lips as my fingers stroked up and down her lips, not yet daring to 'enter.' I had even scratched the tiny blond bush on her mound like I was scratching our old Cocker Spaniel - kind of a scratch-pull-rub motion.
Ever curious, and now knowing Emily as a source of honest information, I asked, "Why is your pussy so wet, Emily?" Then, "May I put my finger in it?"
"Bobby, It gets THAT way when I feel THIS way. I'm not sure how to explain it exactly, but it's like I have an itch inside and want you to scratch it for me. My tummy is quivering with excitement. It means you're really turning me on. And, Yes! Please put your finger in me, Bobby. I've been hoping you would. Just go slow, OK?"
"Like this?" as my finger slipped in slowly... all the way.
"Ohhhhh, yes, just like that." | 6 |
5,035 | Dungeon of Desire | "Yes, that's it," Katy encouraged us. She stroked our backs. Dick could not find space for his big penis and was forced immediately to plunge it into the glory hole as he mounted the bench. I heard a sliding sound, or imagined I did, of hardened flesh pushing within the slick steel rings. They'd been greased to accept him. He had only to poke himself within, and the fat and lard smeared on the rings took him within themselves, offering no resistance, letting him slip right in to his fate. And then, quite distinctly, I did hear Dick gasp as two prongs within the ringed tube separated, like tongs, and then closed again on his cock.
"Don't back up. It's dangerous!" Katy laughed. She told Dick what was happening to him. "Within the lining of rings lie two slim bits of metal, a little sharp at the end. Have you ever driven over prongs in a parking lot?"
"Um, yeah. That's what it feels like," Dick answered. His voice was calm and controlled, but I could sense a deep fear brooding in him, yet at the same time an astonishment that he could be so completely made captive. And by a girl, with just a clever set of rings in a hole in the wall. And in such an unlikely way; by his erect penis. "I can feel, well, within the rings, two prongs," Dick explained out loud, as if to convince himself that this was really happening. "I pushed in okay, but if I try to pull out the sharp ends of the prongs dig into the flesh of my penis. They're pressing down just at their tips, behind the flanged head of my cock..." Dick had studied pre-med and he knew all the terminology. He seemed to be attempting to explain his situation clinically, as if reason, and not the spending of his passion, would save him. Even then, I feared, he might not get back out. However much he might reduce his size by shooting out his sperm, the tongs would still be pressing inward, their sharp points preventing his cockhead from withdrawing.
"Shove yourself in a little more, dear. I want the prongs not directly against your penis crown. Let them press against your shaft. That's it, press yourself completely against the wall," Katy said. She placed both her palms firmly against the underside of his bare bottom and shoved his ass forward. Dick gasped again as he felt himself truly put all of himself into the hole now, so that he was captive right up to the root of his manhood.
"Does it feel good?" Katy asked Dick matter-of-factly. "It feels...whoa!" Dick shouted. I suddenly realized that little Jennifer had snuck behind the plywood wall and was screwing closed the rings around Dick's penis. "No! Stop!" Dick urged. I think he suddenly saw himself winding up like John Bobbit, except this severing would be complete and permanent. I watched his handsome face contort as he felt the rings close and close and close, little Jennifer merrily twisting the screw handle. She was so small and young and unsure of herself yet, given a chance to screw a man's penis into a wall, she was suddenly quite delighted and happy. I heard her give a little squeal as she watched, from her side of the plywood, the rings crush themselves into Dick's big fleshy member.
"Not too tight, Jennifer dear," Katy cautioned. "We may want to use him later." She stroked Dick's back. "But not now, eh Dickie boy? You surely won't find any pleasure inside those steel rings. You can't rub yourself, and you certainly can't pull out and then shove yourself back in. And the steel rings, spaced out, provide no real comfort, do they? It's not like when you were a boy and might stick your penis into a towel. No, these are just metal rings, and most of your cock is not held by anything. Yet parts of it are, and the rings plus the prongs ensure that you, my dear Dick, aren't going anywhere. Or cumming, either."There is no finer thing in life than a naked, beautiful female. And while there is a 'standard' for beauty, the average guy, including me, is quite willing to admire a whole range of female types.
Ladies, please! Try to 'get it'! Us guys are interested in serving you. Haven't you ever heard the phrase, "serve a woman"? If you are unhappy, it's not because guys are bad. It's because you've chosen the wrong guy! A psychologist once said, "We like to think there's that one special someone out there, just for us. But, in fact, there are 100,000 special someones." If you feel unhappy with the person you've chosen, choose another one.
Now let's have a look at the lusty babes in this issue:
Adele Stephens, page 5, is an utterly perfect blonde. She gets very soapy as she washes her master's car. Yes, it is a little exploitative, I guess. He's sitting in a fine silk suit, smoking a cigar, discussing world affairs with his distinguished friends, while young Adele struggles with a floppy sponge and a wriggling hose. What's worse, they make her wear just a skimpy white t-shirt. But Adele doesn't seem too offended by how they're using her. After all, she knows she's the prettiest girl they've ever seen, and if her master ever neglects her, the other men present would pay anything to have her.
Jenna and Janine, page 14, are having a party. You're invited. While you struggle to get your zipper unstuck, these two girls get carried away with a bottle of champagne. Jenna mounts a chair and offers her bottomhole to Janine. Janine pops the champagne open and pours it over her own breasts, and straight into Jenna's hole! A feminist might say, "disgusting!" But why? Isn't it wonderful to see nude, exceptionally attractive girls displaying their sexual parts in this way? What could be better in life than this, especially when a guy is afflicted with a rock-hard erection?
Tina, page 27, understands. She's snuggled up next to the fireplace in her house. It's cold and stormy outside, but she feels safe inside. She's got some friends to keep her company. What a pleasant way to spend the evening, with another couple, dressed just in sleepwear, telling stories next to a crackling fire? Chestnuts roast over the fire as the stories are told. Tina's story gets rather sexy. She pulls down her panties to make sure her pussy isn't getting too wet. After all, it's raining cats and dogs outside. She doesn't need to be wet inside too!
I could talk about all the other steamy girls in this issue, but unfortunately I'm getting quite, er, wet myself. (Damn! My last clean pair of underpants, too.)
There is one more girl I absolutely must mention, though: Dill, page 63. She's a slim blonde. She's just 18. Her pictorial opens with her wearing a small t-shirt, panties, and white socks. God, what a fantastic pictorial this is! Dill is so sweet and lovely, and looks so comfy in her bed. Yet, for some reason, she's decided to take a big, long, black dildo to bed with her! LUST over this girl as she kneels on her bed and pulls up her neat little t-shirt. SALIVATE as she laughs with her legs spread apart, her discarded panties ringing one of her ankles. DIE as she offers her bottom, and sucks her thumb, while lying on her belly with the dildo about to penetrate her ass!
YA-HOOOOOOOO!
If that isn't enough, on the opposite page, there's an ad. In this ad there's a photo of a young blonde. She's naked, except for her panties. As she smiles mischievously at the camera, she sticks her hand into the front of her panties and plays with her slit.
(Shit. Now I not only need new underpants, but a new carpet!)
At the very back of this magazine, there's an ad for next issue. Guess what? Claire Cass is cumming back! I really loved Claire when she used to be in Mayfair. Then, in her last few pictorials, I felt she was starting to look too old. (At least in comparison to the wonderfully youthful way she'd looked earlier!) I am pleased to report that, although Claire does look older in the 'sneak preview' photo shown at the back of this magazine, she nonetheless looks terrific! She has a bit of a dominatrix look in her gaze, but at the same time a vulnerability too. It's almost as if she's saying, "I'd like to dominate you, but you're so big and strong, I'm not sure that I can."
(Don't worry, Claire. You can definitely dominate me. I'll buy the handcuffs.)
Speaking of which, I have next to my computer a new photo! It's actually an old photo, from a Playboy calendar, of Petra Verkaik. She's one of the all-time greatest Playboy Playmates ever photographed, as voted over and over again, not only by readers but also by fellow Playmates! In this photo, Petra, a very shy, playful woman, has adopted a pose that's quite severe. She's wearing riding attire. (Without pants on, of course.) In her hand she's holding a riding crop! If you have any attraction to no-nonsense dommes, I highly recommend this picture. Perhaps it's available somewhere on Playboy's web site. Meantime, if you can't find the photo of Petra, check out next month's Mayfair. I think Claire Cass could make a wonderful dominatrix, now that she looks a little older, but still retains some of her girlish charm.
I really liked this issue of Mayfair. I hope all the future issues of Mayfair are as exciting as this one.
(And remember ladies, if you don't want us guys looking at Mayfair, there's a very simple solution. You don't have to pass any laws. Just send us an e-mail. Put "FUCK ME -- I'M A 10" in the subject header. We'll think of nothing but you once we get that. Not even this month's Mayfair!)
BARE AT THE BOOKSTORE
by holy joe
Beautiful girls in the nude
A Place in the Sun, by David Hamilton, $31.50. (List price: $45.00) Hardcover. Many color pages. Web: http://www.amazon.com
Review: This book contains a variety of beautiful pictures of various things, from deserted beaches, to storm-encroached seas, to even a mule! It also has some excellent photos of young girls, some of which are extraordinary in their perfection of beauty and their playful attitude toward life. I would say there are 10 to 20 photos of beautiful girls in this book. They are well worth the asking price of the book.
BUY! BUY! BUY!
What am I made of, money?
Okay, let's face it. Between porno magazines and art books, you could wind up spending an awful lot of money. What to do? Should you buy just Hamilton? Sturges? And what's Sally Mann up to?
I've only seen Hamilton's work, but I've been able to glean some information about the others. Sally Mann, as far as I can tell, is a feminist. She is just presenting "the feminist line," which is the only viewpoint some Americans want to see in this world. (The line that says, 'Girls must be strong and assertive and dominant, and boys must be either the same, or submissive.') (There's no room, in other words, for soft, giggly, silly girls, or even ones that are challenging in their sexuality, but new and therefore still slightly unsure of themselves.) Don't get me wrong. I have seen some wonderful work by women in magazines like Playboy and Penthouse. I'm not criticizing Sally Mann because she's a woman photographer. In my opinion, a woman photographer might be able, especially in a "porno" magazine, to get more in touch with her subject than a male photographer can. But my fear is that Sally Mann is focused primarily on presenting her subjects as icons of feminism.
As for Sturges, TIME calls his work "unobjectionable." (Though TIME would still prefer that Sturges didn't exist.) A reader at Amazon.com, evaluating Hamilton's A Place in the Sun, writes: "One shows nudity as dull, while the other, brings charm and grace that quickens the pulse, not dulls the senses." Sturges is the one described as "dull." Sturges also shoots in black and white, while Hamilton takes photos in color.
The problem for Sturges is that he lives in America. As you know, America has been in a death-grip of totalitarianism regarding this subject. Sturges even had his home invaded by the police, and they destroyed many of his photos. (That happened about a decade ago. The 'case' was later dropped.)
My advice would be, if you can only afford one or two books, buy Hamilton.
AND IN THE END...
"This book really shows that there is no more beautiful image in the world than that of the female body, especially in its age of innocence."
- Amazon.com reader reviewing David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence."[In addition to being photographed,] these girls... should be on nude beaches, resorts, etc. feeling stress-free and being free as the little white doves they are."
- Amazon.com reader reviewing David Hamilton's The Age of Innocence.
(Yes! - h.j.)
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+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| [email protected] | [email protected]. | 4 |
5,044 | car ride (1/17 from Oh, Susana) | "Fuck me!" Susana pressed her feet hard against the roof of the car, bracing herself as Peter pounded away at her pulsating pussy. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me. Harder. HARDER. Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK me, get it in, push it, push it in, push, push, yes, yes, YESSS . . . Oh, fuck YESSS!"
She arched her back on the laid-back seat and whinnied as his plunging cock drove her once again to the point of climax and beyond. She flung her arms over her head, jammed her hands under the squab of the back seat and pushed back against his relentless hammering. "Yes," she panted. "Yes, oh, yes."
Susana had decided more than two weeks earlier that she had to have him, and it had taken her this long to get him alone. In that time, he had become an obsession with her. She was bored with life in this strange city, this strange country, where as the expatriate wife of an expatriate contract worker there was little for her to do except supervise the housemaid, shop and hang out at the club, usually with other bored expat wives. A couple of times a month, a group of them would descend on a hotel disco where they would dance a lot, drink rather more than was prudent, and flirt with the local male talent. Neil would be waiting up for her when she got home and she'd tease him with elaborate tales of how this guy or that had tried to pick her up. That always turned him on, and they'd spend the rest of the night screwing, acting out their fantasies of what might have happened if she'd accepted one of the offers. She never did — she'd seen the mess that some of the other women got into when they cheated on their husbands and she had no intention of being unfaithful to Neil. But then she met Peter, and her hormones got the better of her. He was big, and brown, and beautiful, and she sensed it would be a mistake to mention him to Neil. More and more frequently she caught herself daydreaming about him, imagining his body pressed to hers, his lips teasing her breasts, his cock drilling into her. Some days she spent hours lost in fantasies about him.
She masturbated constantly, often unconsciously, rubbing her crotch against the backs of chairs and the corners of tables, caressing herself in the shower and revelling in the feel of warm water coursing down her belly and between her legs. Even in the car she found a way of keeping up the tension, clenching and unclenching the muscles in her buttocks and thighs as she drove. After one such episode on the way to the supermarket, she couldn't get out of the car and had to drive home again to change...there was a large wet patch on the back of her skirt.
Waking from erotic dreams in the early hours of the morning, while Neil slept beside her in their king-size bed, she sought release in finger-fucking, surreptitiously driving herself to silent and unsatisfying orgasm after orgasm. None of it helped. The worst of it was that Peter seemed indifferent to her obvious infatuation, paying as much attention to her friends as he did to her and showing no sign of being interested in more than a few dances, a few drinks and the usual nightclub chat. Susana began to doubt her own desirability. Finally, in desperation, she told him she wanted an evening alone with him, without any of his friends or hers, and he agreed, with some amusement, that she could pick him up from work and they could go out together.
Susana was elated. It didn't matter that he seemed to have no thoughts of crossing the line separating friend from lover. She had to have him as lover, and tonight she was going to make sure she did.
He was working late, and it was almost nine o'clock when she picked him up. She had spent almost three hours getting ready, discarding one outfit after another and finally going back through the pile to settle on a full-skirted blue dress that he had once said he liked. The scent of his aftershave wafted over her as he settled into the seat beside her, and involuntarily she raised her left hand and touched him lightly on the cheek. "You smell good enough to eat," she said, blushed with the sudden erotic image that presented to her, and put the car in gear. "Where to?" she asked.
He didn't know. They drove around aimlessly for a while, considering one place after another, Susana rejecting each in turn because they were likely to run into friends and defeat her whole purpose. She agreed she was hungry, and at length they settled on a takeaway meal, drove to the beach and parked, made small talk while they ate in the car.
When they finished, he gathered up the containers and got out to dump them in the bin. Susana took a deep breath, slid her seat back, then clambered over to the seat he had just vacated. "Get in the other side," she said when he returned. As he settled behind the wheel she turned towards him and placed a hand on his thigh. "I want you," she said. "Here. Now."
She leaned closer, pulled his head towards her, kissed him on the forehead and then, clumsily, on the lips. "Please," she said. "I need it now." She kissed him again, slipped her hand from the top of his thigh to brush her fingers against the front of his pants, and was encouraged to discover that he had the beginnings of an erection.
She reached for his right hand, guided it through the folds of her dress to her breast. She wasn't wearing a bra and his fingers closed on warm flesh, began to knead and caress her swollen nipple. Almost feverishly, Susana unbuttoned his shirt, peeled it open and began to cover his chest with kisses. She dropped her left hand again to the front of his pants, found him erect and ready, sought his mouth once more.
His lips parted to admit her tongue and he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulled her fiercely to him. It was a long, hot kiss, and they were both panting when, finally, she pulled back from him. "Time to eat," she said, remembering her remark when he first got into the car.
She yanked at his belt, and he raised his hips and held the waistband of his trousers as she unzipped him. The tip of his by now rampant cock poked above the waist of his underpants. Susana lowered her head to his belly, licked his navel, then peeled back his pants and dipped further to take his cock in her mouth. He moaned softly, placed a hand on top of her head and urged her on.
She gurgled with delight, allowed him to press her down until her mouth was crammed with cock and there was no more left to take. He lifted his hand away from her head and she began to pump, her left hand lightly squeezing and releasing his balls as her head rose and fell and her lips and tongue slid up and down, up and down his burning pole. Soon he was gasping in time with her downstrokes, and she sensed he was more than ready for the next phase. She pulled away from him, reached for the seat-back release and lay back. "Fuck me," she said. She pulled her skirt up to her waist, dropped a hand between her legs and watched his face as her fingers brushed aside the leg of her cami-knickers and busied themselves in her sodden slit. "Fuck me now."
He scrambled across the car to kneel between her legs, pushed his pants down around his thighs, and dived onto her. Susana grabbed for his tool, guided it between the lips of her cunt, and shivered in ecstasy as he rammed into her. Two weeks of dreaming had all come true, and the reality was far, far better than the fantasy. "YESSS," she yelled, as he ploughed his way up and down her furrow. "DO IT TO ME!"
Susana shuddered with another aftershock of orgasm, fell back limp and exhausted, stiffened again as the pounding continued. "No...more," she gasped. "No more, don't, stop, don't, don't, stop, don't...stop...stop...don't, don't, stop, don't...stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop don't stop, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP!"Peter had no intention of stopping, would not have been able to stop even if he had wanted to. His face and arms were running with sweat, he was gasping for breath, lights flashed in the red haze before his eyes, and he was fucking like an automaton, aware of nothing except the urgent need to rid himself of the mounting pressure in his loins.
He clawed at Susana's breasts, digging his fingers into the soft flesh and making her cry out in pain as the dam burst and he exploded inside her, his hips jerking out of control and his bursting cock buried up to the hilt in her warm, clutching cunt. He fell forward on top of her, humped spasmodically a couple of times as the hot juice jetted out of him, and bit at her neck.
Susana wrapped her arms around him, brought her feet down from the roof, and dug her heels into his buttocks as she climaxed again. She hugged him to her, twisted her head, and stuck her tongue in his ear. "Thank you," she said. Totally spent, they lay still and quiet for a few moments, then he raised himself slightly, and Susana groaned as his softening cock slipped out of her and flopped limply between her legs. The leg of her knickers fell back into place, and the fabric was soaked instantly as their combined juices flooded out of her cunt. She pulled his head down to hers again and kissed him.
Suddenly there was an almighty "bang" on the roof, and the inside of the car rang like a gong. Peter jerked upright, and there was another bang as he cracked his head against the roof. He cursed, spun around, and there were three grinning faces peering in through the windscreen. Kids, maybe 12 or 13 years old. As he struggled to pull up his pants, they laughed and hammered again on the roof. "Great show," one of them yelled, "but don't you have a bed to do it in?" They scampered off into the darkness, hooting loudly with laughter.
Peter was trembling with rage and embarrassment. Susana reached for him, pulled herself up, and hugged him tightly. "It's all right," she soothed. "They've gone." She kissed him again, buttoned his shirt, helped him back into his trousers. Then she drove him home. | 1 |
5,046 | "Dawn's Big Confession" | "Hmm...I wonder what you're not confessing to me..."
My words, spoken so softly, echoed throughout the room. She looked at me in disbelief.
'How can he possibly know I'm not telling him everything?' she thought. She tried to think of something to say...but could only think of lies...the truth was too embarrassing to confess, even to me.
Our "accountability sessions" often began this way. Dawn knew she was required to confess her latest errors and misbehaviors. But she never knew just how much I already knew. I always tested her honesty during our little sessions, although dragging the truth from her is sometimes a lengthy chore. She did realize that being caught in a lie or significant omission would not fare well for her tender little bottom.
"Well, Sir, I was late three more times, but I didn't want to tell you that." She hoped I'd be satisfied with this explanation, even though she knew it would still cost her a sore bottom.
"Young lady, you will atone for your tardiness...you can be sure of that! But what is it you're still not confessing to me?"
'I don't believe it! How did he know? I wish I hadn't lied! Now I'm going to pay for something I didn't do, and he's still waiting for the truth.' She started to fidget, trying to come up with a plan. She looked across the table at me. I was calmly watching her, obviously amused by her increasing nervousness. She desperately tried to think of something to say to satisfy my curiosity without admitting her indiscretion.
She looked down at her hands as she thought back to the last Girls Night Out, when all her troubles began. She had planned to come home early, so that she wouldn't be late to work the next day. But when Angie suggested they go up to the Cowboy Bar, it really did sound like fun. Of course, she knew I'd forbidden her to go there, but they were just going to shoot some pool and flirt with the cowboys...no big deal. She suddenly remembered the consequences the last time she didn't obey me and she hesitated, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
Sarah's voice broke into her thoughts. "Come on, Dawn, are you with us or not?"
She pushed all thoughts of me and my training out of her mind, and happily went off into the night with her friends.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the Cowboy Bar, shocked to see several Sheriff's cars parked outside, lights flashing. Angie looked disappointed and said, "Oh wow, I wonder what we missed!" Dawn was glad they missed it. Now she wished she'd stayed home...obviously I had good reasons for telling her she was not allowed to go there.
A deputy approached their car, shining his flashlight on the four of them.
"This is no place for ladies. I suggest you leave. Now."
Kathy, who was driving, replied "Yes, Sir" and promptly started the car. All the way back down the canyon, Angie and Sarah kept complaining that they missed all the excitement. Kathy didn't say very much, and Dawn was glad they were nearly home. She couldn't stop thinking about me, and what would happen if I ever found out about this little misadventure.
She finally looked up from her hands and back across the table at me. I was still calmly watching her, waiting patiently for her confession. She sighed in resignation for she knew I would continue to wait until she told me the truth.
Trying to keep her voice steady, she began "Well, Sir, it happened last month on Girls Night Out..." and went on to explain what had happened.
"Hmmm...disobeyed me again, young lady. I was amused at her nervousness, and I did nothing to decrease it. I have ways of getting the whole story out of her...however long it may take.
I told her to stand up from the table. I came around to her side and led her into the bedroom. The room she is all too familiar with at times like these.
'Oh shit,' she thought. 'I knew this was going to happen, but it's too soon! I don't want to leave the safety of the table.'
"You know what you have to do, Dawn, my dear," I told her in a low but very firm voice.
Without any further instructions, she slowly unbuckled her belt, pulled her zipper down and tugged down her jeans until they were resting comfortably at her ankles. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, but I silently motioned her with my index finger to lower her panties. She knelt down in front of me and slipped her thumbs into the top of her thin white panties, forcing them down to her knees. I tucked up her T-shirt so she was now completely bare below the waist. I slowly walked around her, inspecting her nakedness. A sharp slap on her left buttock snapped her to attention.
"You may continue now, Miss," I said evenly. She both loved and feared the strength in my voice.
The air was cool against her bare skin, but she was warm all over from the shame of being exposed this way. As I slowly walked around her, inspecting her nakedness, she tried to control her breathing. She knew she couldn't control anything else at that point.
'I don't want to continue. I wish he'd just spank me and get it over with,' she prayed silently. She looked up at me, hoping to see at least a trace of sympathy, but my eyes held only amusement at her plight. Even more embarrassed, she moved her hands in front of herself, trying without success to hide from my gaze.
"Get those hands behind you! NOW!!" I ordered. Shocked by the harshness of my command, she immediately clasped her hands behind her and straightened up as she had been taught. "That just earned you an extra five, young lady!"
Taking a deep breath, she slowly continued her confession. "Well, Sir, I knew I needed to be home early as promised, but instead I stayed out past my bedtime. I know there are consequences for not following the rules, so I'm sure you understand why I was reluctant to confess this to you, Sir."
She kept her head down, afraid to let me see into her eyes, hoping against all odds that I'd accept this as a full confession.
There was no way I was going to accept this as a full confession! I placed my fingers under her chin and firmly but gently raised her head so she faced me fully...her eyes couldn't help but meet mine. I pierced her soul with the intensity of my gaze...and told her:
"You will give me ALL the details of your indiscretions, young lady! And you will do it promptly. Any hesitation will result in more severe discipline. Do you understand me? Now start over from the beginning!"
I knew she was powerless to resist me and my will. She was kneeling before me, naked and vulnerable...open to my inspection. She relented and began to describe her behavior to me in a halting voice.
She felt like she was going to cry...she didn't like being on her knees...she didn't like being exposed to me...she didn't like the anger that replaced the amusement in my eyes. She didn't want me to know how she disobeyed me and put herself in a potentially dangerous situation. She knew it was stupid and she knew there were consequences...but she didn't want me to think she was stupid.
She took yet another deep breath and tried to keep the wobble out of her voice.
"We...we went for a ride, Sir. It was a clear and starry night, the moon being dark, the stars were at their brightest," she began again.
She related the ride out of the canyon...winding up the hill with Hotel California playing on the radio. Will he believe that we just went out to enjoy the ride? She peeked up at me and saw my eyes staring down at her, staring right through her. She shuddered involuntarily and clasped her hands even more tightly together in front of herself.
"We went all the way to town, Sir, and then we turned around and came home."
She knew I was waiting for more details...but maybe she shouldn't even mention the Cowboy Bar. After all, it wasn't her idea and she wasn't driving. And besides, they never even went inside!
"I know it was stupid, Sir, to go out joyriding like a bunch of teenagers, but it was such a beautiful night. I know there are consequences when I behave irresponsibly, but please, Sir, please forgive me."
I knew she was holding out on me. I pursued the truth relentlessly, at her great expense.
"You'd better come forward with every detail quickly...or your bottom will force you to scream it out. I'm no longer amused with you. You are turning from a naughty young lady into a stubborn brat very fast. And you know how I treat stubborn brats," I raised my voice.I picked up my black leather paddle and walked behind her. Without warning, the first stroke was delivered to her clenched buns with a SPLAAATT!!
"Owwwwww!"
"Now, brat, let's have it ALL. And right now! My patience is growing thin!" I told her in a menacing voice. "And keep your hands clasped BEHIND you!" SPLAATT!! Another paddle smack emphasized that I was not kidding now.
She gasped in fear...I had never used anything but my hand before. The burn from the first stroke radiated across her cheeks.
"Yeowwwww!!!!" The burn from the second swat merges with that from the first and she begins to cry.
"I...I'm sorry, Sir. I know I should have told you everything, but I was too ashamed to admit my stupidity to you." I saw her butt cheeks clench in anticipation of another swat, so I mercifully allowed her to continue speaking for now.
"I went to the Cowboy Bar, Sir, even though you had forbidden me to go there. But I didn't go inside, Sir." She wanted to stop here, but she realized leaving any unanswered questions would no doubt result in more paddle smacks.
Keeping her head down in shame, she continued in a trembling voice.
"I didn't go inside, because when we arrived there were Sheriff's cars everywhere. One of the deputies came up to our car and told us to leave. We did just that, Sir, without ever going inside." There, now I knew everything. She began to cry softly, because she knew her punishment was going to be severe.
SPLAAATT!! My paddle took her by surprise, sending another burst of stinging heat radiating across her bottom.
"WHY did you go to the Cowboy Bar???"
"I..I'm sorry, Sir. We went...I mean, I went there to flirt with the cowboys who hang out there."
She kept her head lowered. It's bad enough I thought she was a brat...now I also was going to think she was a naughty little slut.
"You go out riding with the girls, trying to pick up cowboys, and now you want my mercy?" I asked in an incredulous tone of voice. "And I suppose you don't want me to think of you as a little slut, a common tramp, either?"
She sobbed and trembled, but tried to keep her head up so as not to inflame me further. She couldn't help but keep her eyes downcast, though.
"No answer, huh?" I asked.
'I'm sorry, Sir! I'm sorry!!!' her heart cried out but her words had no voice. She just knelt there silently. 'I knew this was going to happen...but it wasn't like he makes it sound. It was just an innocent night out with some friends. But that doesn't matter...it only matters that he thinks I'm a tramp,' she thinks to herself.
"OK, have it your way. Your first ten spanks will be delivered in this position. I expect you to remain still and maintain your position. Because you reached down before and tried to cover yourself, I'm going to fasten your wrists behind you so you can't do that again."
'Oh, Sir, I really am sorry...I didn't mean to be so disobedient.' Again, her words find no voice and she could only kneel there, completely vulnerable to me. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes again.
I took two leather straps and buckled one around each wrist, then I clipped them together behind the small of her back.
"There. That should do just fine," I said to myself in a low voice.
I walked to her front and pulled up her T-shirt to her shoulders. As I did so, she felt a jolt between her legs. I noticed her white pushup bra fastened in the front, and I took the time to undo the little catch, allowing the cups to fall to the sides. I marveled at her firm, pert breasts and her nipples which were rapidly hardening under my intense gaze. As her breasts were freed, she felt ashamed to feel her nipples harden. 'Will he take this as proof that I'm a naughty tramp?' she wondered.
Taking my position behind her, I laid the leather paddle across both of her buttocks and adjusted my aim. The paddle was long enough so I hardly had to bend to reach her posterior. She could still feel the warmth from the earlier smacks. 'I don't think I can take ten with the paddle,' she worried. She started to turn, to plead with me for mercy, but before she can do so, she heard my voice.
"Tell me, my darling, why are you here before me today?" I asked, obviously knowing the answer. I always make her state the obvious.
"Because I've been naughty by disobeying you, Sir." God, I know how she hates to confess to me. But she realizes that she has to do it to make a clean conscience for herself. But somehow, once she confessed out loud, to me, she was able to shed the guilt that comes with her naughty ways.
"What happens to girls when they're naughty and disobey instructions, pet?"
"They get spanked, Sir."
"And how are they spanked?"
She swallowed hard and hesitated just a moment before replying, "They get spanked bare, Sir."
"Does my little girl deserve her spanking today?"
"Yes, Sir. I deserve a bare spanking for disobeying you. I know I disappointed you. Please give me a good spanking, Sir." She hated to beg for her spankings, but there was no other way to get what she deserved...or so deeply wanted!
"Is my Dawn ready to take her paddling?" I asked firmly. The tone in my voice indicated that she WOULD be ready to take her paddling, and no other answer would be acceptable. I knew she really didn't think she was ready for this at all. Nonetheless, she had no will to object.
"Ye..yes, Sir."
"You know the rules, Miss. You will count each stroke. Missed counts will result in my administering that stroke again. Excessive squirming, protesting or hesitation in counting will earn you extra spanks. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir," she managed to squeak out. I knew how much she hated counting her spanks, and that's precisely why I made her count. It's an embarrassing and humbling ritual that makes her feel like a little girl. But that's exactly what she needs, since she'd behaved like a little girl.
She felt the paddle come away from her bare cheeks and she clenched her buttocks together tightly, waiting for the first smack.
She heard the SMAACKK! before she felt it. The force of the strike burned across both cheeks causing her to squirm and gasp. 'I don't think I can take this...but I have to...I have to please him, to show him I really am a good girl!' she resolved. She tried to be still and then remembered, hopefully not too late, and shouted out, "ONE!!"
After what seemed like an eternity, she heard the air move again and a second smack covered the first.
"Yeowwwwwwwww!!" This was nothing like the hand spankings I'd given her in the past, and she didn't think she could bear it. Remembering to count, she gasped "TWOOOOO!" And then a third SMAACKK!!! resounded, causing her to struggle to keep her balance.
"Oh, Sir, Noooooo! Pleeeeeease, no more!!!!!!"
My only reply, an even more forceful paddle smack landing right on top of the first three! I knew my aim was good. Choking back a sob, she shouted "Four!"
"No, Miss," I said calmly. "Four does not come after two. Try again."
And yet another swat found its target causing her to shriek, "THHREEEEEEEE!! Oh, Sir....pleea..."
SMAACKKK!!!
"FIIIIIIVE!!! Nooooooooooooo......please no more...." Her ass cheeks were burning with a pain more intense than anything she'd ever felt before. She wondered now if she could stand five more.
And so it continued, as I administered each smack with more force and unerring aim. By the time the count reached eight, she was unable to be still, her hips writhing in an effort to avoid my paddle.
SMAAACKKK!!!
"NIIINE!!!" she shrieked in reply, and then, unable to control herself, she lowered her bound hands and tried to protect her burning cheeks.
SMAAACKKK!!!
I aimed low, sending a searing pain across the tops of her thighs.
"YOWWWWWW!!!! Oh Sir, please, i'msorryi'msorryi'm sorry..." she sobbed uncontrollably as she quickly removed her hands from my target.
Before she remembered to count I said in a low, firm voice "That little stunt just earned you two additional strokes, Miss. The count will resume at ten and continue to twelve."
I continued the punishment, each of the remaining strokes coming with more force, until the last swat, more powerful than the rest, knocked her forward. She made no effort to get up...she couldn't...the throbbing pain was too overpowering. Her hips were gyrating wildly, trying to somehow shake off the heat of the paddling. With her forehead on the floor and her hands still held behind her, her bottom was pointing right up at me. In embarrassment, she realized how exposed she was and tried to move her legs closer together, becoming aware for the first time of the moisture starting to drip down her inner thighs.
As I moved in front of her to watch her face, I saw now how naughty my little Dawn was by what was happening between her legs. I spread her legs a bit and ran my index finger softly up and down her outer pussy lips, tickling the little brown hairs guarding her private place. I worked my finger into the slit and ran it up and down, soaking it in her lady juices, which allowed me to slip my finger ever so slightly inside her lips. I plunged my index finger into her pussy, then followed it with the middle one. I could feel her so warm, wet and slippery. I let my fingers rest there, savoring her discomfort. I finally withdrew them slowly, finding her swollen clit on the way out. I caressed her little nub, and slid my fingers in small circles around it, making her squirm. She knew I wouldn't let her find release yet. Her spanking wasn't over.
"Aren't you forgetting something, Miss?" I asked with disdain.
"Sir, I...I..." she faltered.
"What happened during your scolding before? Did you think I was going to forget? You were going to let me forget, weren't you, pet?" I drilled into her.
"Oh, no, Sir, really I wasn't.I was going to remind you that I earned five extra spanks for moving my hands in front of me," she quickly recited. "I know I did wrong and I want to be punished for that. Please spank me, Sir. I deserve the extra five."
Pleased that she was sufficiently contrite, I pulled her up to her feet and walked her over to the bed. I pulled all three pillows to the center and stacked them one on top of the other.
"OK, Dawn, I want you face down with your hips over the pillows. Center yourself so your hips are raised as high as they can go," I instructed her. I helped her into position and had her raise her hips slightly so I could adjust the pillows beneath her. As a last measure, I spread her legs wide and fastened soft leather cuffs to each ankle. With two leather straps, the cuffs were attached to each bedpost at the foot of the bed, splaying her legs as wide as they could go. With her hands fastened behind her back, she was unable to squirm out of position, leaving me free to go fetch the Vick's from the dresser.
"My dear, your last five strokes are going to be special. I want to impress upon you the consequences of disobedience. I want you to stay still, no matter what. It'll all be over soon," I explained without telling her the details of what was to come.
Standing at the head of the bed where she could watch, I unscrewed the cap from the blue jar and dipped a long cotton-tipped wooden swab into it, twirling it conspicuously. When I extracted it, I made sure she could see a glob of clear, thick gel sitting at the end of the cotton tip.
"Please, Sir, I don't need that today. I promise I will never disobey you again. Please!!"
"Quiet, little one. This is what I've decided you will endure, and that's final. I expect you to take your entire punishment with good grace." She resigned herself to the fact that I would not be dissuaded from administering the full treatment.
She couldn't believe this was happening again! I knew how much she hated the Vick's treatment.
'Was I really that bad? I don't think so, but obviously he does. All I wanted was to be turned over his knee...why does he think I need so much more?' she thought, silently biting her lower lip.
She watched me. She couldn't move. She figured if she didn't speak, maybe she'd get through this without earning even more punishment. She watched me standing at the head of the bed, displaying the innocent looking swab about to cause her so much discomfort. She noticed the gel glistening on the tip. She didn't feel any fear or even any real interest...'this must be happening to someone else,' she thought. Though disconnected from herself, she was surprised to feel the joy emanating between her legs. Impossible! She felt her fears draining away, leaving her sort of 'in neutral' as she waited for me to begin.
'I can't be finding pleasure in this punishment! With my legs spread and bound, and my hands fastened behind my back, I must look like the girls in the naughty magazines they sell at the liquor store!' she fretted silently.
Her mind refused to accept that she was aroused...so aroused that she might cum at any second! Suddenly I smiled, and slowly began to walk to the foot of the bed...
Sitting next to her on the bed, I spread her buttocks apart right where her anus lies. Keeping my eye on her little brown rosebud, I aimed the swab directly into the center. She felt the cool gel make contact with her sensitive skin, then felt the coated cotton tip push slowly past her outer entrance. I had to twist the swab back and forth to work it into her anal area. Once inside about an inch, I twirled it and moved it in small circles to be sure to coat the membranes just inside. I pushed it in and out several times. Finally, as I withdrew it for the last time, I carefully painted every little crease and crevice of her puckered area with the Vick's. She could feel the swab touch and tickle her sensitive area and she couldn't help but squirm. My hand and fingers holding her buttocks apart held her still, however.
In just a few seconds, the Vick's took effect, making her bottom feel at once cool and warm, the sensation some describe as "icy hot." This sensation, coupled with the cool room air, made her clench and unclench her cheeks in order to get some relief. After a moment to let it take it's full effect, I announced that she was ready for her final five spanks.
With one arm, I encircled her waist and pulled her in tight. My hand rested on her bottom, marking the spot where her spanking would begin.
SLAAPPP!!! The first spank struck her left cheek.
"OWWWW!!" she shouted. "Oh, please, Sir, not too hard..."
I waited a little in between spanks to let each one sink in before stimulating her with the next one.
SLAAPPP!!! "TWO!"
"I'm sorry Miss, but you forgot to count the first spank. So we have to start again, I'm afraid," I sighed with annoyance.
SLAAPPP!!! "ONE!"
"THAT'S better," I said.
SLAAPPP!!! "TWO...Ohhhh..."
And so it went for the full five spanks, each one on alternate cheeks. Finally, it was over. The echo of her last count faded from the room as I let her lie there, bottom high, softly sobbing into the bedsheets.
I unbuckled her ankle cuffs and allowed her to close her legs in a futile attempt to regain her modesty. I took some Kleenex and wiped the remaining Vick's from between her ass cheeks, and with a new tissue, wiped the juices flowing from her pussy down her thighs. She sighed and pushed her hips up to meet my hand as I gently cleansed her private areas, no longer caring what I could see.
After a soothing application of scented massage lotion, I applied baby powder to her pelvic area, smoothing the fragrant talc over her buttocks, around the outside of her genitals and in between her thighs.
"OK, Dawn, it's time for you to rest. Come along, now," I said as I helped her up from her spanking platform.
I walked her to her room and slowly helped her undress, removing her T-shirt and bra. I ran my hands over her curvy body, noticing how firm and smooth it was. I pulled her toward me and placed her arms around my neck, making her reach up slightly to do that. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a big kiss and a hug. As I nibbled on her ear, I told her that she was forgiven.
"You've paid the price for your misbehavior, Dawn. Your punishment is over. I forgive you," I whispered as I hugged her tight.
"Thank you, Sir. I'm really sorry. I'll try to be the best girl in the world for you from now on," she replied, returning my squeeze.
"OK, into bed with you, honey," I said as I released her and gave her a little swat on the bottom. I watched her slide beneath the covers and nestle her head into the pillow. I smoothed the blankets over her and tucked them in at the edges, making a nice snug enclosure for her.
She looked at me dreamily, her eyes half closed, as I kissed her on the cheek.
"Get some rest. I'll be back in just a little while," I told her.
She watched me turn off the lights and close the door...knowing I would return shortly and slip silently in beside her....
END | 3 |
5,048 | Mystery Flasher 2: The Return | "Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin' alive, hi, ha-hai, ive, haa yehaa-aah!"
I put my head in my hands to try to escape Vaughn's Bee Gees routine, and the round of stares and giggles it had brought from the crowd of teenagers nearby. It was early Saturday evening, and I was in for the long haul at the music section of the bookstore. In no shape to deal with customers or my coworkers' insanities was I; five-thirty and I *still* felt hungover, having put away most of a bottle of Malibu at Lou's housewarming party the night before. But I got no sympathy. Customers seemed to speak louder than necessary on purpose, as if they knew my pain and wanted to torment me. My new coworker, Vaughn, I had no question about; he definitely wanted to torment me. Ever since he discovered the "Saturday Night Fever" soundtrack in our "in-store play" pile, he'd blast it at every opportunity.
"Hi, Jack." I looked between my fingers to see a dark, long-haired beauty looking over her shoulder at me. I had no idea who she was, but she looked ultra-fine. Her jean shorts were rolled halfway up her calf, exposing long, tanned legs. The vest she wore over the small green T-shirt was short and sexy. A second later when my eyes reached her face, she grinned and started walking away. With a start I realized it was her, the girl who'd freaked the hell out of me three weeks ago. That face had been grafted onto my memory!
Despite the long black hair, I was sure it was her. She must have been wearing a wig, but it looked very real. Not a few men gazed at her as she sashayed towards the art section, possibly noting as I had that she probably wasn't wearing panties. I couldn't see her face but I knew she was still grinning, knowing exactly what that walk did to guys like me. Folks who can appreciate beauty, yeah, that's it.
"Jeez, man, where do you know her from?" Vaughn poked me.
"She's a customer, you pervert." He was caught in mid-twirl, twisted around to look at my mysterious playmate. "Damn, Vaughn, put your tongue back in your mouth, wouldja? You're gonna get caught looking one day."
"Yeah, you will too, homes. You're worse than me. What about that Indian girl, the other night, what was her name --"
"Riva," I said absently as I continued to watch my temptress in disguise as she asked another coworker to retrieve a book from the overstock bins above the shelves. Somehow I knew she was leaning forward a bit, waiting for him to glance downwards.
"Yeah, Riva, or something, the one who got you to wrap all those books for her, individually, in different kinds of paper, 'cause she said you have great hair... Yer a sucker for a pretty face, dude. She was fine, though."
"Uh huh, sure was," I repeated, eyeing the perfect way her asscheeks bulged oh-so-slightly, thinking of how they'd feel in my hands --
"Sir, excuse me, could you point out the Contemporary Christian section?"
I bit the inside of my cheek hard to regain focus, and proceeded to find Andy Griffith's "Heaven's Over That Way, Stupid" or whathaveyou for another of the masses. Let someone else get theirs, I figured, she'll be back or she won't. Besides, not much could happen; I was supposed to be making sure that no heavy metal, rap or Judy Garland discs walked out the door, and it was doubtful she'd flash her bare breasts on a crowded Saturday night. Still, as I led customers through the store to find their Bach or B-52's I'd catch a glimpse of her, usually talking to some older male with a half-smile on dark red lips.
The crowd gradually thinned and grew as the hours passed. Shortly before eight I announced the concert in the cafe, "Roughneck Susie and her Cacaphonous Cajuns," with as much of a straight face as I could muster. As I was winding up I caught sight of her, walking towards me with a big smile.
"...That's in fifteen minutes, folks, in our cafe." When she leaned against the desk I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. "We'll see both of your, uhm, we'll see you there!" I blurted, slamming down the phone without hitting the release key, making a loud click-thump over the intercom. She burst out laughing, turned and walked away quickly.
I was torn between diving for cover and watching her leave when laughter behind me caught my attention. Danni was giggling as she bounced to the desk. "I know exactly what happened to you," she grinned, poking me.
Danni was a new coworker in books, short, full of energy, gay, and cute. From comments that she'd made I judged we had the same tastes in women. "You saw her, didn't you?"
"Who?" I said innocently. "Your great-grandmother looking at the gay video guides?"
She poked me again. "No, dummy, the girl in the vest. She's in here a lot. She's wearing a wig. I've seen her tease men all the time."
"Yeah? What does she do?" I attempted to catch sight of her again with no avail.
"Her usual thing is to wear sexy clothes, but one time I saw her brush her tits against some guy's back as she went around him. She's pretty hot, eh?" Danni babbled quietly. "Usually she's with some friends, but I think she's here alone tonight. I saw her come in when I had a smoke. I wish I had legs like that, either on me or around me --"
"Okay, enough," I said as my dick began to bulge in my jeans. "I got work to do, here, you lazy girl." I tried to sound menacing as I picked up some discs to shelve, but she was still laughing as she walked away.
"Try to control yourself," she whispered just before a customer asked her for help. Though I began to work diligently, the image of Danni and my temptress making out kept flashing into my thoughts. My embarrassing erection was difficult to disguise; keeping a basketful of music to shelve at my waist, I kept returning to the desk to get more CDs so as not to reveal my condition. Vaughn stayed at the desk to help customers, and glanced over at me periodically to wonder why I was working so hard.
Suddenly I turned to find her standing in front of me, looking flushed. She leaned in close. "Take a break. Now. Go out and get in the blue microbus. Quick." Without waiting for my reaction she began to almost run for the front door.
I returned to the desk and dropped the basket on the floor. "I'm taking a break, Vaughn," I said, as he fooled around with the computer. He nodded and I made my way to the front door as quickly and inconspicuously as possible, hoping my supervisor wouldn't notice me taking my third smoke break.
The VW, a blue microbus that showed its age, was on the side of the building in a long row of cars. I glanced around, then walked to its door. It was locked, and I saw no one inside, but the door opened. She leaned out and dragged me into the backseat, then closed the door.
She scooted in beside me, then lay backwards. She'd taken off her shorts, and I took in the musky scent of her sex. With one leg she pushed me against the far wall, the other thrown wide into the front seat. Her hands moved to her engorged lips and pushed in and out with a slurping noise. She writhed on the seat and moaned. "Your little screwup got me all crazy," she gasped, rubbing her clit with one hand and grabbing her breast with the other. "Suck my cunt, Jack, make me come on your face. Suck it now," she moaned.
I pushed her leg aside and dove in, sucking both lips into my mouth with abandon. I love eating pussy, and hers tasted sweet. I realized that the taste was actually mingled with honey, and I glanced to her side to see a small squirt bottle of it. I groaned and lapped at her. She moaned louder, and louder still as I thrust my tongue in and out of her. She was soaking wet, and I lapped up her juices with loving care.
"God that feels good, it's so good, does it taste good Jack?"
"Mmm, exquisite," I agreed, nibbling on her clit gently before sucking it and rolling my tongue around it. Her hands went to my head, holding me firmly at her crotch as she ground against me.
"I've been turned on for hours, watching guys get all horny looking at my ass, at my tits...""These tits here?" I inquired, grabbing her breasts firmly through her shirt before returning to flick at her clit.
"Oh yeah, you naughty boy, those tits there have been stared at all night, making my nipples hard..." I continued to suck her clit but began moving my thumbs gently across her nipples, which were very hard. She jerked her head, making the wig fall out of place.
"This one kid has been following me around all night," she murmured as she twisted her head back and forth. "He's not even fourteen, but he knows enough to lust after a hot piece of ass... His cock got all hard when I'd squat to look at a book, he'd get behind me and watch my ass..." I brought my hands back to her crotch. As I pressed my thumb against her sphincter, I pushed two fingers into her dripping pussy with ease, which elicited a sharp gasp.
"I bet you wanted to push me over the desk and fuck me hard right in front of everybody, Jack, and I might have let you, I'm so hot," she continued, her voice rising steadily. "All night all I've been thinking about is dragging you back here to suck my wet pussy just, like, that, oh, Jack, don't, stop, just, like that, oh," she gasped as the steady rhythm brought her off, shaking the van and screaming like a banshee. She pushed my face into her pussy, rubbing her juices all over my face. Her pussy clenched around my fingers as she peaked. Finally, she released the deathgrip on my hair and sighed, grinning.
As she calmed down, I realized how horribly vulnerable I was, that if I was caught I'd surely be fired, but that I didn't care. But my reverie was broken when she lifted me up, grabbed her shorts from the floor, and yanked them on.
"I better get going, I'm gonna be late," she said nonchalantly.
I was flabbergasted. "That's it?" I said quietly. "You've got somewhere to be?"
"Yeah, I've got a date," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "We'll have to do this again sometime," she said with a glance at me before rooting on the floor for her keys.
"Yeah," I said. I was numb. The pulsing in my cock was echoing in my brain like a car alarm.
She sat back and looked over at me innocently. "What's wrong, Jack? Something bothering you?" She smiled. Suddenly I realized the game she was playing, what she wanted me to do. At least I hoped so, because I didn't want to piss her off if I was wrong. But I forged ahead.
"I'll tell you what the problem is," I growled. I quickly grabbed her shoulders and bent her over, pressing her face against my crotch. "You feel that? You did that to me. Now you're gonna do something about it." She rubbed her face on the front of my jeans, against the lump of my cock. "I'm sure you know just what to do, don't you?"
Unbuttoning my jeans, she pulled down the zipper and took out my dick. She roughly jerked it and smiled up at me. "This what you want?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. She pulled my pants down further and cupped my balls, squeezing gently as she continued to pull at my cock.
"No, that won't do," I murmured, taking her head in my hands and guiding her lips to my shaft. Moaning, she tongued the head with quick swirling strokes before slowly sucking it in. "Yeah, that's it, I want what every guy who saw you tonight wants, I want to come down your throat and that's what you want too, isn't it, you want me to shoot off in your mouth..."
She suddenly swooped down, taking it all in, and I grabbed her hair to fuck her face in earnest. Moaning, she began to suck harder as I helped her increase the speed of her motions. As she squeezed my balls, I felt the orgasm hit me like a freight train; she began sucking the cum from the head of my cock as she looked up at me, and I was totally thrown into another level as my cock spurted into her mouth. She swallowed repeatedly as I returned to earth, finally sitting back to wipe at a corner of her mouth. Catching some semen on one finger, she flicked it at me to land on my cheek.
I sat breathing hard, staring at her.
"You'll make me late, you naughty man." She yanked my pants back up and pulled up the zipper. "I really do have a date."
"But... Let me take you out sometime," I blurted.
She smiled sweetly. "Maybe. But not tonight. This bus has gotta roll, so move it, sucker." She opened the side door and began pulling me out of my stupor.
"Okay... What's your phone number?" I babbled as I stumbled out the door.
"Nuh-uh," she closed it and shook her head. "That comes later. You did good, but there's more. We'll see how you hold up." She jumped into the driver's seat and started the VW. With no fanfare at all, she pulled away just as I remembered something.
"Wait, what is your NAME?" I shouted, but she beeped the horn and continued driving away.
I sighed, then remembered the cum on my face. Reaching up to wipe it off, I spied Danni leaning against the wall having a cigarette. She was grinning from ear to ear.
"I thought I told you to control yourself," she accused.
"How much did you hear?" I walked over to her.
She grinned even wider. "Enough to need to go spend some quality time in the bathroom." | 1 |
5,050 | Awakenings | "That was simply the best play I've ever seen." Kathryn said as they exited the theater.
"It was good wasn't it," Yolanda smiled. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
"So what's next?" Kathryn asked.
"I guess that's up to you." Yolanda said. "After all, this is your night, isn't it?"
Glancing up at the now dark night sky, Kathryn considered for a moment that she really should be heading home. As it was, she wouldn't get there until well after midnight.
"Is there somewhere we can go and get a drink?" she asked instead.
"Well, there are a few nice places in the neighborhood," Yolanda said in response. "But they're all likely to be pretty packed on a Saturday night."
"Oh, I really wanted to have a drink and maybe talk some." Kathryn pouted.
Yolanda took a few long moments to think about it. Long enough for Kathryn to start framing another question. One that was cut off as Yolanda finally spoke.
"Well if you really want to talk," the olive-skinned woman said with a little hesitation. "I supposed we could go back to my apartment, it's only about twelve blocks from here. I'm sure I have something we could have as a nightcap too."
"That's a fabulous idea!" Kathryn gushed with enthusiasm. "Let's go!" she added as she took Yolanda by the arm.
"All right," Yolanda surrendered. "But it's this way." she said, turning both of them northward.
"My, this is nice," Kathryn said as she looked up at the old brownstone her friend had led her to. "Which floor do you live on?" she asked.
"Actually, I live on all of them." Yolanda replied.
"All of them?" Kathryn repeated as she looked up at the three-story building. "How can you afford that, the rent must be incredible."
"I sort of own the building." Yolanda said as she slid a key from her bag and put it into the lock of the first-floor door. "Me and First City Bank that is."
Stepping inside, Yolanda turned on the light and led Kathryn inside. The large room that took up much of the first floor had been made into a combination office and workroom, filled with several computers and peripherals.
"What's all this?" Kathryn asked.
"This is Southstar Enterprises." Yolanda replied as she checked for any new email on one of the active terminals. "This is what I do when I'm not consulting."
"You run your own company too?" Kathryn asked.
"Sweetheart, I am my own company." Yolanda smiled. "President, Mailroom Clerk and Chief Bottle Washer. Which is why the job I'm doing for Moore and Ryan will be my last for a while. Southstar is finally beginning to take off and I'm going to devote myself to it full time for a while."
"Can you afford to do that?" Kathryn asked curiously. Wondering if she'd ever get the chance to do anything like that.
"I can't afford not to," Yolanda said as she guided Kathryn to the staircase leading to the second floor. "Not if I ever want to break out from the pack."
By the time they reached the second floor, Yolanda had changed the subject. Kathryn still had at least a dozen questions about what she had seen downstairs, but there would be time for that later.
"Is white wine okay with you?" Yolanda asked as she stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
"That would be fine." Kathryn said as she looked around the simply furnished living room. She couldn't help but compare it to her little apartment over her parent's garage.
"I fixed us a little snack too." Yolanda said as she came out of the kitchen with a tray filled with three kinds of cheese and the wine.
"It looks delicious." Kathryn said as she picked up one of the wine glasses and took a sip. "This is also very good." she added.
"Would you like to hear some music?" Yolanda asked as she turned on the bookcase stereo.
As the soft sounds filled the air, Yolanda sat down next to Kathryn and took a taste of her own wine.
"Now there was something that you wanted to talk about?" Yolanda asked as she put her glass down on the small coffee table.
Kathryn took a long taste of her wine. Now that she was where she thought she wanted to be, she hesitated. Long silent moments passed as the redhead collected her thoughts. Moments that Yolanda just sat there, she was in no hurry.
"We don't have to talk." Yolanda said with a small smile. "We can just sit here and enjoy the wine and music."
So for the next ten minutes, that was exactly what they did.
"I think I love you." Kathryn suddenly blurted out.
"Really?" Yolanda said quietly as she took another small sip of wine. "And how long have you felt this way?"
"I'm not sure," came the reply. "A while I think, but I didn't realize it until today."
Yolanda took another sip of wine, giving Kathryn a moment to consider what she was saying.
"Have you ever had feelings for another woman before?" Yolanda asked.
Kathryn quickly told her about Sally and her brief introduction into female sex. The telling brought back that same warmth between her legs.
"That's lust, not love." Yolanda noted. "Not that there's anything wrong with that at times."
"And I have had feelings for some of my girlfriends too." Kathryn added.
"Ever tell any of them about it?" Yolanda asked as she moved just a little bit closer.
"No," Kathryn said. "I didn't think any of them would've understood.
"Not even Angela?" Yolanda asked as she took the wine glass from Kathryn hand and put it down on the table next to hers.
"Definitely not Angela!" Kathryn said quickly.
"Pity," Yolanda mused. "She's got dynamite tits." she laughingly added.
The comment caught Kathryn off guard. Then, picturing the number of times she'd seen Angela's big nippled breasts in the flesh, she had to agree with Yolanda's assessment.
"I guess she does." Kathryn smiled.
"But I'm glad she's not here," Yolanda said as she leaned toward Kathryn. "And that you are."
And then their lips met...wetness engulf her stiff nipple, bringing back the memory of
Sally's touch from so long ago. The memory quickly faded
in the face of reality and the knowledge that Sally was a
rank amateur next to Yolanda.
With only one nipple exposed, Yolanda took her
time. Her tongue darting to and fro, tracing wide circles
around the pink nipple. Then she would tickle it directly
before taking it whole into her mouth again.
"Oh, this feels so good." Kathryn moaned as she
laid back with her eyes closed and just enjoyed the feel of
Yolanda's attentions.
"Let's see how you like this?" Yolanda said as she
picked up the closest wine glass and poured just a little of it
on the center of Kathryn's breast.
"Oh yes!" Kathryn gasped as Yolanda licked up all
traces of the wine.
A few minutes later, Yolanda exposed the other pale
white breast and repeated her performance. Sending
Kathryn further into a blissful state.
Finally satisfied. Yolanda turned her attention away
from her new playthings and kissed Kathryn again. This
time the kiss was brief, just enough to signal a temporary
end to their play.
"I want to try that on you." Kathryn said excitedly,
wondering what it would be like to taste another woman's
breasts.
"Oh you will soon enough, my new love." Yolanda
said as she planted another kiss, this time on the cheek.
"But I think we should be practical for a moment."
Kathryn looked at Yolanda for a moment. A
puzzled look on her face.
"This has already gone far beyond what I think
either of us had planned." Yolanda said. "Not that I'm
complaining, mind you. But if you do plan to stay here, I
think it might be a good idea if you called home and told
them."
The call home only took a few minutes. Virginia
Gray agreed with her daughter's decision to spend the night
at her friend's house. It was far too late for her to be riding
the subway and buses home.
A wicked smile formed on Kathryn's face as she
spoke, imagining what her mother's reaction would be if she
could see her right now. Standing in the center of the living
room, her dress still down around her waist with her
breasts hanging free. Her nipples still wet from the kiss of
her new lover.
Virginia started to suggest to her daughter that she
try to get home early in the morning and have brunch with
Eric, but Kathryn quickly dismissed that idea.
"I'll probably have breakfast here, Mom." Kathryn
said, bringing the conversation to a quick close. "I'll see
you tomorrow afternoon. Bye."
No sooner had Kathryn put down the phone when
she felt Yolanda's arms close around her from behind. The
older woman pulled tight against her and brought her hands
up to cup Kathryn's breasts, rubbing her fingers against the
stiff nipples.
"Mmmm." Kathryn said softly as she closed her
eyes and cherished the warmth of the embrace.
Still holding her tight, Yolanda kissed Kathryn's
neck, then her cheek, then finally ran her tongue along the
inner edge of the redhead's ear.
Kathryn wanted this moment to last a lifetime, she
felt so warm and secure. The only thing that made it's
passing bearable was the knowledge that it would only get
better.
Yolanda turned Kathryn around and kissed her softly
a few more times. She took Kathryn's hands in her own
and guided them up under the bottom of her blouse,
pressing them against her own breasts. Kathryn squeezed
them softly, feeling Yolanda's nipples through the thin
material of her own bra.
With practiced skill, Yolanda undid the buttons of
her blouse, letting it fall open, giving her friend a much
better look at her endowments. Then, just as quickly, she
undid the front clasp of her bra and let it fall free into
Kathryn's hands.
Wasting no time, Kathryn let the material drop
away, quickly placing her hands back on the now exposed
flesh. It felt so warm to her touch.
"Can I kiss them?" she asked softly.
"Of course you can, darling." Yolanda said with a
smile. "You can do anything that you want."
Yolanda lifted one of her breasts and offered it as a
gift to Kathryn. She leaned down and kissed the center of
the dark silver dollar she had admired in the theater. Unlike
her own breasts, Yolanda's were all one hue, a combination
of her nature color and a proclivity for nude sunbathing.
Her large nipples and wide areola where a dark brown,
several shade darkener than the surrounding skin. Kathryn
tickled the stiff nipple with her tongue, before taking it into
her mouth.
"Yesss," Yolanda moaned as she felt the wet
embrace of Kathryn's mouth. "You do that well."
In reply, Kathryn let the hard nub slip from her lips
and ran her tongue across the wide circle a few more times
before taking it again fully into her mouth. Back in college
she had regretted the fact that she had never had the chance
to taste Sally's breasts. Tonight she was going to make up
for that and much more.
After a few more minutes of play , Yolanda shifted
her other mound to Kathryn's eager mouth to give her
neophyte lover a chance to feast on that as well.
As she worked her way across this new morsel,
Kathryn was intoxicated by the erotic combination of
Yolanda's natural scent and the perfume she wore. In was
strongest in the deep, dark valley between her breasts, a
place the twenty-three year old was quickly becoming very
familiar with.
When she was satisfied that Kathryn had enjoyed
herself enough for the moment, Yolanda lifted both her
breasts and rubbed them against Kathryn's own. They
kissed as their nipples rubbed against each other, their
tongues becoming one.
"I want you," Kathryn panted as she broke the kiss.
"Right here, right now."
"I have a better idea my love," Yolanda said in reply
as she ran her tongue across Kathryn's red lips. "We have
all night, and I want this to be special for you."
As she spoke, she slipped her hand down and under
the hem of Kathryn's dress. Sliding between the band of
her panties, her fingers came to rest on the redhead's wet
mound. Yolanda rubbed against the lightly haired bush,
sliding her index finger up into Kathryn's tunnel of love.
Back and forth she moved it, just enough to give
Kathryn a quick thrill. Then, just as quickly, she removed
her hand completely from her panties and brought it up to
her face. Even in the lamp light, Kathryn could see the
shiny residue of her excitement on the tanned index finger.
"Hmmmm," Yolanda purred as she slid the
outstretched finger between her lips and licked it clean. "I
do so love a little appetizer before the main course." she
laughed.
Kathryn smiled back, wondering what it would be
like to taste Yolanda's nectar. A question that she knew
would be answered in a very short time.
"I want to give you a few minutes to catch your
breath," Yolanda abruptly said. "To give you one last
chance to decide if this is what you really want."
Kathryn opened her mouth to say something but was
stilled as Yolanda placed her index finger against her open
lips. She could easily smell her own scent filling her
nostrils. It was a heady aroma.
"Don't say anything," Yolanda continued. "I want
you to wait here and finish your wine. Wait fifteen minutes,
then if you're still sure, follow me upstairs. I'll be waiting
for you."
With that, Yolanda broke the embrace and headed
up the wrought iron circular staircase and disappeared onto
the third floor.
The quiet swing of the pendulum on the wall clock
counted off each of those fifteen minutes as Kathryn sat and
finished her wine. The drink only added to the warmth that
still filled her body. The soft caress of Yolanda's lips
against her own still tingled, more so those against her
breasts. In her heart, she felt more sixteen than twenty-
three, more like a virgin than an experienced lover.
Deep within her, Kathryn could hear a small voice
calling out to her. It was the voice of caution, urging her to
take a large step backwards and carefully examine what she
was about to do. That voice was balanced by that of her
soul, filled with the fire of suddenly realized dreams. At
that moment Kathryn recalled her dream of the night before.
Only this time she could see the face of her lover. It was a
face she had caressed so lovingly only ten minutes before.
The wall clock chimed the quarter hour, and
Kathryn put her now empty wine glass down on the table.
She looked up at the staircase leading to the third floor and
decided to follow the voice of her soul and dreams. | 3 |
5,058 | Hotsprings | "Here's the software you asked for, Kathy. You really think it will make a difference?" Big Jake looked at the box he was holding for a second before handing it to Kat.
He had come around the desk to hand it to her, ensuring that the combination of his height and her being seated would give him a good look down the top of her dress. Kat recognized this and smiled demurely up at him.
"It will give us an easy way to track expenses by categories. We'll have a much better grip on where the money is going and where it is coming from. Yes, it will make a difference, Big Jake," Kat answered. Big Jake didn't look especially happy about that. Perhaps it was the cost of the software, perhaps it was something else. Kat decided she would redouble her efforts to sort out the mess that comprised the books of Hotsprings Campsite. "It will also save a lot of time, time which can then be spent on other things. Basically, you'll be saving the salary of one employee."
"Anything else you need me for, just now?" Big Jake moved back around the desk, twirling his keys around his finger. "I strained my back a little and I think I'll take a dip in the pool then have a little rest before dinner," he explained.
"No, thanks Big Jake. You've been a big help. I may have more questions later, but for now I have my work cut out for me." Kat was looking at the papers and books which covered the desk, yet was well aware of the long looks Big Jake was lavishing on her breasts. It was difficult not to smile.
"Kat?" Stacy was at the door.
"Yes, Stacy."
"Here's the salad you wanted." Stacy squeezed past Big Jake, who made no effort to give her more room, and placed the salad on the desk. Kat dismissed her, and she squeezed her way back out past Big Jake. He had moved fractionally to give her even less room on the way out, causing her breasts to lightly brush against his arm as she went past.
Kat could see Stacy's jaw was tight. She would have to do something about this - soon. Big Jake would have to learn to back off where her people were concerned. She couldn't have distractions like this disrupting the subtle training which was going on. Her eyes were mild, however, as she looked up at Big Jake, whose glance had followed Stacy out of the room.
"Well, I'd better get at it. I hope your back gets better fast, Big Jake."
Big Jake was licking his lips as he turned his attention back to her and gave a wave. "Thanks, Kathy." He turned and left, giving Stacy a long look as he passed the counter on his way to the door.
"Stacy."
"Yes, Kat?" She had arrived at the door in seconds. She was learning.
Kat looked up from the computer which wasn't cooperating with her at all. The damn program wouldn't function. She'd never had any problem with it before in other places.
"Where's Fred?"
"He should be doing prep for the supper hour, Kat." Stacy was nervous. She didn't know why Kat elicited that response in her. All she knew was that she had to keep on her toes at all times.
"Ask him to come here."
"Yes, Kat." She turned to go.
"And Stacy..." Stacy turned back. "Stacy, all this desk work has me a little stiff again. We'll close the office for a half hour when you bring Fred back."
Stacy looked down and blushed. "Yes, Kat." Her voice was subdued.
Stacy left to do Kat's bidding. It was a beautiful day outside, yet she didn't notice it. Her mind was on the previous night. Kat had returned, from wherever it was she had gone, complaining that she was stiff. Stacy had been in the process of winding down her day when Kat had come through the door. Again Stacy had noticed the almost regal bearing of the smaller woman. There was something about her which made you step back and take notice. She was a woman accustomed to giving orders.However, the job she was doing didn't suit Kat's standards, for she began directing Stacy where and how to stroke.
It was fortunate, Stacy thought, that she had quite an aptitude for learning. Kat didn't seem the patient type.
The feel of Kat's skin under her hands had been a little exciting. Eliciting the moans from her even more so. Every time Kat gave any indication of enjoying the work Stacy was doing, Stacy felt her heart leap. If she were able to keep Kat happy, Kat would keep Tom away.
At last Kat had dismissed her, not even thanking her. It had been hard work and she had been sweating by the end of it. She went to her room to take a shower.
"Hi, Stacy, what's up?" Fred's voice brought her back to the present.
"Kat would like to see you in the inner office as soon as you can manage it."
"And she sent you to tell me?" Fred was a little indignant. "What's wrong with her, broken a leg? I have half a mind to get you to tell her to come herself if she wants to talk to me. Does she think I have nothing better to do?"
Stacy became visibly agitated. "Please come, Fred. Don't send me back with that message. Please?"
Fred relented. It wasn't Stacy with whom he was angry. "Okay, Stacy, I'll come along and see what it is Kat wants." Stacy looked pathetically grateful. "Is it worth it, Stacy?"
She was confused. "Is what worth it?"
"Your relationship with Kat. I don't like seeing you so worried about what she might think." He patted her on the shoulder kindly as she led him out the door.
"She's protecting me, Fred. It feels so good to know that she cares about me, better to know that Tom will be leaving me alone."
"That sort of protection carries a price-tag. Is it worth it?"
"She's good to me," Stacy began defending Kat.
"I'm not saying otherwise, Stacy. All I am asking is, is it worth the price?"
"Yes." The word was spoken defiantly.
"Then it's okay. I'd just hate to see you get hurt." Fred's voice was mild.
"You're sweet, Fred, but I know what I'm doing." Stacy wondered if she did, but wasn't going to admit that.
They walked into the office and Fred went to the inner office while Stacy returned to her desk.
"Ah, Fred, do you know anything about computers?" Kat asked him. "I can't get this program up and working. I figured you would probably have some ideas."
The woman had some cheek - calling him in on the off chance he knew about computers. If he didn't, then the whole trip was a waste of time. Who the hell did she think she was? He nodded to himself - of course. It's what she would do, being who she was.
"I know a little. Let me take a look."
Kat vacated her seat for him and he sat down. She sat on the edge of the desk and watched him carefully, as if she were studying him. Which she probably was, he thought, grimly. Ten minutes later he was finished. He stood and relinquished the chair.
"You had an irq conflict and not enough memory. I resolved the conflict and loaded DOS and a few other things high. It should solve the problem." He turned to go.
"You did that well, and quickly." Kat was thoughtful. "Why are you here?"
"Because you asked me," he replied innocently, well aware that his answer wasn't to the question she had asked. "You asked me at a time when I was quite busy with my duties. I came. You owe me for that." He grinned to himself.
"And what would you like to square the debt?" Kat asked him. She was fishing for information, he knew.
"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something," he said in an offhand manner and left her scowling behind him. Did she think he'd be that easy? Big Jake was walking down the boardwalk and he waved to him before returning to the kitchen.
Big Jake walked into the office, looking much more relaxed. His hair was still wet and was combed straight back.
"Well, Stacy, you're sure looking good today." He leered at her.
"Thank you, Big Jake," Stacy blushed and looked down.
"You ought to try one of those push-up bras - I think it'd look real good on you - maybe one of those half-cups."
"Big Jake," Stacy began plaintively, "please."
"Here." He tossed her something, but it fell short, landing on the floor. He stood waiting. "Go, on, pick it up, it's for you." He had purposely thrown it short so she would have to bend down to pick it up. Stacy looked around for help, but there was none forthcoming. Her face was red and she felt humiliated. She moved to pick up the souvenir pin, for that was what it was, she now saw.
"MISTER Saunders." Stacy looked up to see Kat standing like an avenging angel. Her heart began to beat faster.
"Mister Saunders. That is sexual harassment, and I cannot allow it to continue." Her eyes were bright with the prospect of battle. Stacy thrilled to her words and backed up out of the line of fire, so to speak.
"Aw, come on, Kathy, it's all in fun."
"From where I stand it doesn't look much like fun for Stacy. I don't think it's very funny either. It will stop Mr. Saunders. It will stop now." Kat was all aglow, Stacy thought. She was enjoying the confrontation, where Stacy would have been paralyzed.
"Now look here, Kathy . . ." Big Jake was becoming angry, but Kat interrupted him before he could finish what he had begun.
"No. You look, Mister Saunders. If it doesn't cease, I'm afraid there will be a sexual harassment suit. And you know how the courts are these days, concerning sexual harassment."
Big Jake was red in the face and Stacy began to fear for Kat. She'd never seen him so angry before. Kat, however, didn't appear worried.
"I hired you, young lady, and I can fire you . . ." Again he was interrupted.
"I wonder what your potential investors would think about a wrongful dismissal suit *and* a sexual harassment suit coming about at the same time. Might make them reconsider, don't you think, Mister Saunders?"
Big Jake seemed to run out of steam suddenly. Stacy looked back to Kat, who appeared much larger than life. She was relaxing slowly, knowing she had won.
"It's not much I'm asking, Big Jake," she said soothingly. "All we are asking is for you to treat us with the respect that employees are due. We, of course, will continue to treat you with the respect that an employer is due. Think of it this way: it will improve morale here and more work will get done. Your staff will be happier and your customers can only benefit. When they benefit they will be happier and you will benefit, also. Is that too much to ask?"
"Guess, not," Big Jake huffed. He bent down and retrieved the pin. He walked over to Stacy and handed it to her. "I know you collect these, Stacy. I'm sorry," he apologized, "I never wanted you to feel harassed or anything."
Stacy looked down at the pin. "Thank you, Big Jake, it really is nice." He turned and stomped out. As soon as he had disappeared from sight, Stacy turned to Kat.
"You did it," the excitement was too much for her and she began jumping up and down. She ran over to Kat and hugged her. "You did it, you did it," she repeated.
Kat allowed her the moment than disengaged from her. "We still have an appointment in my room, Stacy. Close the office."
"Sure, Kat, sure. Let's go. I'll give you the best back rub you've ever had."
At that moment Jennie walked in. "Hi, girls. I thought I'd give you a break. Go on out and enjoy this magnificent sunshine for a while. Come back in ninety minutes."
"Thank you." The two women said in unison.
Stacy had expected this massage to follow the pattern of the last. It wasn't to be. After she had helped Kat out of her dress and bra, Kat turned and looked at her. Her stomach began its familiar churning. She looked Kat in the eyes as long as she could, but had to look down before Kat broke contact.
"You must get quite hot when you give a massage." Kat waited until Stacy felt she had to answer.
"I guess so, Kat." She wasn't sure she knew where this was heading, but she was fairly sure she wouldn't like it.
"I don't want guesses from you. Do you or do you not find that you become hot?"
"Yes. It is a hot job, Kat." She continued looking down.
"Much better, Stacy." Stacy perked up a bit. "You must continue to give straight answers." She paused and Stacy's stomach resumed its churning. "Your skirt is quite abrasive and distracting and I don't like that. I think we'll both feel much better if you undress to the same level as I have."
Stacy's eyes rounded and her jaw dropped.
"Do you have a problem with that, Stacy?"
Stacy raised her eyes to meet Kat's gaze. The level stare from the cool green eyes unnerved her. She wished she were anywhere else but here. She owed Kat, yes, but how much? Yet if Kat abandoned her now, she'd have to face Big Jake alone and she knew she couldn't do that. After the scene downstairs he'd be after more than the odd look down her top, and now she knew she wouldn't be able to say no. She'd either have to give in or quit. She began to tremble.
"No, I guess not."
"Pardon."
"No, Kat, I don't have a problem with that."
"With what, Stacy?"
"I don't have a problem with taking off my clothes to give a massage, Kat."
"Ah, much better. You don't have to, of course. Do you want to do this?"
Stacy looked up relieved. The relief died quickly as she saw Kat's face.
"Yes, Kat, I want to take off my clothes to give you a massage. It'll be much more comfortable for both of us." Stacy felt defeated.
"Well, if you think so. Okay. Let's get started." Kat lay down on her back and watched as Stacy's trembling hands began to unbutton her blouse.The last button came undone and Stacy hesitated under Kat's unwavering gaze. Then she mustered up her courage and pulled the blouse from her skirt and shrugged it off. Kat continued to watch impassively.
Her heart was pounding as she unclasped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Why was she doing this? Because she had to. Not doing it, leaving Kat's protection, was unthinkable. Stacy bent over and removed her shoes and socks. There was something both degrading and liberating about being without her clothes and, as Kat had correctly stated, it was hot work. It would be more pleasant doing it in this state of undress.
The massage oil, as before, was on the night table. Stacy moved toward it, then stopped as Kat held up her hand.
"The same level, Stacy."
Stacy's face burned. "But my bra won't even touch you, won't come near. Why would you want . . . ."
"The same level, Stacy." The words were colder this time.
Stacy gulped and unhooked her bra. There was a fraction of a second's hesitation before it slipped off, exposing her breasts to the air.
Kat was appraising her. Stacy knew what she was seeing. Her breasts were large, pear-like, with large pink areolae capped with pink nubbins which pointed slightly downwards. Her waist flared out into wide hips and down into nicely shaped legs. A nice hour-glass figure. She wished that her ass was a little less plump, but one has to live with what one gets - the thought of any sort of surgery, besides being too expensive, was too frightening to contemplate for long.
She had always been slightly embarrassed about her looks - the boys had always given her those long leering looks. Kat, however, seemed to be suitably impressed. She nodded at Stacy and turned over to allow her to begin her work.
Stacy began as Kat had instructed, with long light strokes to her back. She straddled Kat's legs, as before, feeling Kat's skin against her own in an unrestricted way which she had not before felt, and her stomach did a flip flop. Her pressure strokes began. Again, every time Kat moaned in delight, Stacy was proud that it was her strokes which were doing this. She bent her head down and continued work with a passion.
"Stacy."
"Yes, Kat?" Had she done something wrong? But, no, there was no tone of censure in Kat's tone.
"You are free of Big Jake and Tom now. Do you realize what that means?"
It had been so long since she had had such freedom that she didn't. She started thinking of how it would feel to simply go to work, go about her job and not feel pressured or put upon by her co-workers. Mel, she thought, had a thing for her, but was too embarrassed to mention it. Fred, on the other hand, was simply kind and she felt no pressure from him at all. Actually, Fred she wouldn't mind getting closer to.
She was free! A sense of euphoria rose within her. What to do with her freedom, though? She just didn't know. She had never expected to reach this position, this position she had always dreamed of. Now that she had, there was no dream to carry her on. It would take time, she supposed, to accustom herself to her new freedom. Damn Big Jake, Tom and others like them who had kept her down for so long! Thank God Kat had come along and put them in their place.
"Stacy?"
Oh, no, she hadn't answered Kat's last question.
"Yes, Kat?" Here it comes, she thought.
"I'd like you to think of what you'd like to do. Think out loud. I'm interested in your thoughts."
Kat was interested in what she had to say? Nobody had ever been that interested in what was in her head, only in what was in her bra and panties.
"Gee, Kat. It's all been so sudden. I don't know what I want. Maybe just to bask in this sense of freedom. I feel really up, you know, really up. It's never been this way before. I guess I don't know what I want . . . Sorry. I don't really know what I want. It may take some time."
"You'll have time, Stacy. Oh, that feels good, just a little harder."
Stacy put a little more pressure into her strokes. "You know, it feels so good being up that I'm mad that they kept me down."
"They?"
"Tom, Big Jake, men. Sometimes I'd like to punish them all . . ." At these words Kat began to twist, to turn over. Stacy moved to give her room to turn, then relaxed back down on her thighs. Kat moved a pillow under her head and gazed up at Stacy. She was pondering something. Stacy wondered if she'd said something wrong.
"Punish them?" Kat seemed intrigued.
"Oh, it's just a thought." Stacy's face turned hard. "But sometimes I'd like to hurt them, the way they've hurt me, treating me like I wasn't really human, just something to use. When I think of how I used to feel when I went in to get something to eat," tears began forming, "just wanting to enjoy some food - " her voice cracked, "'cause he cooks so well, damn him - and have to take all those leers, the nasty double meanings in everything he said . . . . Why'd he do that to me, Kat, why?" The tears were coming freely now.
Kat reached out to take Stacy's hands, to comfort her, but Stacy jerked them back. She didn't want to be comforted. Anger welled up, and she wiped away the tears. Her voice, when it came, was harsh.
"I want to pay them, him, back, Kat. That's what I want. Revenge." She stopped speaking.
"Revenge can be a costly undertaking, Stacy." Kat's voice was soft, but her eyes were bright. "It might be better to just enjoy the freedom you have." Kat seemed to be giving her an out, and Stacy loved her for it.
"I'll pay the price, Kat." A light burst in her brain. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You're going to get him, aren't you? You're going to show him who's the boss, aren't you? I'll help, I'll do anything." She was excited now.
"No, Stacy, not him." Disappointment crashed down about Stacy's shoulders. "Not *just* him. All of them, Stacy, all of them. Do you still want to help?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"It will mean doing whatever I say, when I say it. You may not like some of the things I ask you to do."
Stacy had the feeling that although Kat appeared to be trying to talk her out of it, she was drawing her in further and further - deliberately. She looked down and saw Kat's breasts, nipples erect, moving up and down with her breathing. She was breathing quickly, the look on her face, the look beneath the quiet considerate look, was one of triumph. There was a moment of doubt, but it passed. "I want, Kat, I want."
"Good."
Stacy flung herself forward, squashing her breasts against Kat's and hugged her. Her head was next to Kat's ear. "Thank you, Kat, thank you," she breathed.
"Okay, Stacy, you can get up now."
Stacy released her hold on Kat and clambered to her feet.
"On the dresser you will find a small black choker. If you put it on, you will be mine." Stacy picked up the choker. "It will be a constant reminder that you belong to me, that you must do what I say." Stacy studied the small piece of cloth in her hands. "If you do not obey quickly, or well enough, you will be punished." Stacy looked up. "Do you understand?"
"If I don't obey you to your satisfaction you will punish me." She paused. "But if I please you, I'll get to punish the others?"
"You will get your revenge," Kat agreed. "Be sure you want to do this. If you ever take off the choker and return it to me, or if I take it back, you will lose all your privileges - you will be back where you were before I took you in. You can remain where you are now, you don't have to put it on, but once you do, there is no turning back."
Stacy placed the black cloth about her neck without hesitation. "I am yours. I want to wear it."
There was triumph on Kat's face, naked triumph.
"You have pleased me. Your actions and your massage have pleased me. As a reward I will allow you to suckle at my breasts." Stacy's eyes lit up and she hurried forward to join Kat on the bed. She had pleased Kat!
Kat held Stacy's head and guided it to her breast. Her nipple was suddenly encased in warm wetness. It ached as it became even stiffer. She felt the tingling run from her nipple down and through her body. She was alive with the triumph of the moment, and this was the cap of it. Her first victory. Stacy was hers, now, and the others would soon follow. She would use Stacy - ah, that felt so good, Stacy was flicking her nipple with her tongue - to get the others. Mel would be easy pickings, she figured. Tom - difficult, yet manageable. She only had to set up the right set of circumstances and he would be had. Fred was the wild card, yet he, too, would succumb eventually. Of that she was sure. She had never failed before, and would not this time. Big Jake? Well, that would depend on Jennie. Jennie . . .
A warm wave of contentment went through her, disrupting her thoughts. It was always the same, this joy at the first conquest. Stacy had a nimble tongue. Perhaps she would use it to better effect than on her breasts only. But that could wait. Kat didn't want to scare her off.
Oh, yes, that felt good. She pulled at Stacy's hair and led her to the other breast. Stacy put as much as she could in her mouth, sucking and licking at it. She pet Stacy on the head. A good pet. Yes, she was a good pet, indeed.
"That's enough, Stacy. You didn't please me excessively." Stacy looked disappointed as she gave up the nipple. She stood and Kat followed her up.
"I think I need a shower now. You may soap me." Stacy's eyes lit again with the chance to please her friend, her mistress. "You may take off my panties."
Stacy went immediately to her knees and pulled Kat's panties gently down. Kat was indeed a true red-head, as Stacy would see.There was a bush of fine red hair on her mound, neatly trimmed. Kat watched as she stood once more. She merely gazed at Stacy, waiting. The light of understanding lit Stacy's face - to the same level. Stacy pulled down her own panties and left them lying on the floor as she followed Kat into the bathroom.
The water was warm and Stacy's hands were slippery with soap. Her hands roamed up and down Kat's body, teasing her breasts, stomach, and legs. Kat's moans of satisfaction guided her. The more she moaned, the more attention Stacy paid to that particular area. The undersides of Kat's breasts had received much attention, as had her nipples. Stacy wondered how far she should go. Suddenly it was obvious - she belonged to Kat now. Her hand, thick with suds, moved between Kat's legs and began stroking and soaping her there. Kat's breathing quickened and Stacy felt the joy within her rise. She soaped Kat up and rinsed her down, then soaped her up again. Kat's legs were beginning to tremble, and in a sudden bit of daring, Stacy found her clit and began to wash it carefully and thoroughly. She looked up through the stream of water to see Kat's arms were above her head, her hands holding on to the showerhead for support. Her head was back, and she was breathing through her mouth, trembling, her breasts jiggling like jello. Stacy grinned and reached one hand up to still a breast, then to rub the nipple while the other kept up its work on Kat's clit. Kat must be washed clean, she thought joyously. The trembling grew and grew, and Stacy stroked faster and faster.
"Oh, yes!" Kat took in great draughts of breath and slowly collapsed down, down. Stacy felt her head being drawn back to a nipple. She fastened on and began to lick and suck once more, the water cascading over them both. She had pleased her mistress. She was ecstatic.
"Oh, Kat, you're so beautiful," she murmured as she switched breasts.
"Mistress Kathryn," Kat corrected her gently, stroking her hair.
"Mistress Kathryn," Stacy agreed.She had a nice ass, but it was a little on the skinny side. Mel grinned. The job had its perks. He reached down, unclasped his pants, and undid the zipper.
He had experimented and discovered that sound would make its way from the shower to the supply room and the other way also, but not to the same extent. As long as he was careful to make no loud sounds, the woman would be unable to hear him. When the shower was on, it would be near impossible. However, he would be able to hear a fair bit of what was said on the other side - not that much was ever said.
"We'll share," he heard faintly through the wall. The other woman, younger - perhaps nineteen or twenty - walked in. "All the other showers are in use," she said.
This one was a brunette, about four inches shorter than the first one, but with larger breasts and a plumper ass. She dropped her bag alongside the other one. They both looked into the mirror and smiled at their reflections.
"That's right, babes, smile at me," Mel whispered, as he shifted and pulled his underwear down. He reached down and began to slowly stroke his soft cock.
"Flip for first?" the brunette asked.
"I was here first, Sally, I shower first," the blonde answered. "Besides, you should show respect for your older sister." She grinned.
"Yeah, sure. That's what you always say, Karen. Oh, well, I guess you're right. Age before beauty - ouch!" Karen had slapped Sally on her butt. "I'll tell dad."
Karen stuck out her tongue at her younger sister as she untied her top, allowing Mel his first look at her nipples.
"Yes!" he exulted. The relative coolness of the shower room, along with the evaporation of the water from them, had her nipples growing erect. They were the size of pencil erasers.
"Nice tits," Sally grinned at Karen, who had bent over to remove her bottoms. Her breasts hung down towards the floor, nipples scratching at the air.
"That's for sure," Mel murmured, his cock slowly growing under his ministrations.
"Bitch." Karen laughed and moved into the shower. Karen made a show of wiggling her ass as she walked, much to the amusement of Sally.
For Mel, however, it was like a dream come true. Two women showing off for each other. His cock was now semi-erect. He didn't want to rush things. With two of them there, he could take his time.
The shower sprang to life, and Karen moved under it, lifting her face up to it. The water ran down her hair and on down her back. Nice ass, thought Mel. He was hard now and had made a circle of his thumb and fingers into which his cock fit nicely. With slow, light strokes, he moved his hand up and down his cock, enjoying the light friction. He licked at his lips as Karen turned and allowed the hot water to stream down her back. She had a nice thatch of pussy hair, thick and blonde as well, though somewhat darker than the hair on her head.
Mel stared at her crotch, transfixed, and increased the friction on his cock slightly. "Mmm, yes, soap it up, baby, soap it up."
Karen had moved out of the spray and was soaping her body. The white suds were beautiful on her tanned skin. She took her time soaping her breasts and between her legs, and Mel's cock gave a little jump. He stopped stroking and pulled off his t-shirt.
Leaning back in his chair, now, Mel renewed his stroking. With his left hand, he ran his fingers all over his chest, imagining it to be Karen who was doing the rubbing. "Ah, yes, baby," he murmured. There was a tightness in his stomach as his excitement grew. God, they were beautiful, both of them. Sally was watching her sister in the mirror, yet it seemed as if she were watching him. "For you, baby, for you."
White streams of suds flowed down Karen's legs as the shower spray rinsed the soap from her. She turned around a few times, allowing the water to rinse every inch of skin. Then she was finished and was squeezing the water from her hair.
"Your turn, sis."
"Humph. Not much of a show. Nice wiggle on the way in, though. Is that how you do it for Bill?"
"Slut."
"Hussy."
Karen picked up her towel as Sally freed her breasts. They were nice and fleshy. She boosted them with her hands, while looking in the mirror. "This is what men want, sis, something they can hold on to."
"Bull. This is what they want," Karen touched her pussy, "something they can sink into." The two broke out laughing, and Sally bounced her way into the shower.
Karen was drying herself off right in front of him while Sally was soaping herself in the background. Mel began stroking himself faster and faster. He wanted to be finished before Karen covered up those lovely pert tits.
Tensions increased, and Mel stretched out his legs until his feet were pressing against the boxes in front of him. He pushed, feeling the tightness travel up his legs to his stomach. His butt was at the edge of his seat, and he was leaning back, putting his body into an almost straight line. Breathing through his mouth now, he increased the friction of his hand. His cockhead was large and dark in the dim light and becoming very sensitive.
Sally was bent over, soaping her legs, her breasts hanging, water splashing off her shoulders. It could be his hand there, soaping and stroking. It could be him taking those tits into his mouth. He was stiff, and his stomach was as hard as a board. His head was back, pressing against the box behind him, and only by looking down his nose, through slitted eyes, could he see the twin visions of beauty in front of him.
His hips began rocking, and occasionally, he'd lose the rhythm. His fist moved faster, feeling the buildup towards orgasm. What a lovely pussy. He'd love to be in it, pumping hard, making her gasp with pleasure. He could feel those breasts, mashed against his chest; those lips, whispering in his ear, urging him on and on, crying out in ecstasy. The blonde, watching, diddling herself, waiting her turn to be fucked. Yes, he'd fuck them, fuck them both. One sister at a time while the other one watched. He'd fuck the brunette, hard and fast, until she came, then bury himself in that blonde pussy, feel those eraser-tip nipples rubbing against his chest, see those blue eyes half closed with the pleasure his cock was giving her.
The brunette would be at his side, wide-eyed, saying 'Fuck her, fuck her hard. Make her come,' as she knelt down for a better look at his cock parting her sister's pussy. He'd move her legs up over his shoulders. She'd know there would be nothing she could do, now, but get taken by him, fucked by him . . . by him.
"Oh God!" he gasped. It was now. He forced himself to look the blonde in the eyes as his body tensed. "Take it, baby, take it all," he whispered, then groaned as his hips stopped moving, as everything tensed, stopped - except his fist.
He jerked upright as the cum splashed onto his chest, relaxed back, then jerked upright again, still pumping. Then with a sigh, all tension draining, he lowered himself back down. It had been a good one.
"Thanks, babes," he murmured, looking at the two pairs of breasts, through the one-way glass. "You were great."
Mel absently reached out his hand to grab some of the tissues which were sitting on the box next to him. He started as he felt the tissues being placed in his hand.
"Wha . . ."
"Interesting show, Mel," Kat purred. "So, which one do you like best? I kind of prefer the blonde. She's more mature, but the brunette has a hot little body, wouldn't you say?"
Mel wasn't saying anything. His mind was blank. He could only stare, unbelievingly, at Kat, standing above him, looking through his picture window. Kat looked down at him and smiled.
"Well, Mel, which one were you in when you came? It looked like you were concentrating on the blonde, but it was difficult to tell from where I was. Which one?" The last two words, though spoken in a whisper, were like a whip.
"The b-blonde," he stuttered, trying vainly to think of an excuse, to find a way out of his predicament.
"Ah, that's better. See, we can have a quiet little talk if you answer my questions." Mel didn't know where she was leading, so he simply nodded his head. "Good."
"How'd you . . ."
"Get in?" Mel nodded. "I have a passkey. I found your little window the other day. You should have disposed of your tissues a little better. I smelled your cum in the air. It didn't take long to figure it out."
Mel was mortified. He was slowly coming out of his paralysis. The implications were staggering. This woman, this Kat, could do terrible things with what she knew. He'd be fired - or worse. He didn't want to think about the 'worse'. Kat brought it up for him. The whir of a hair-drier on the other side of the mirror allowed them to talk normally.
"What do you think those young ladies," she pointed at the two who were now finishing dressing, "would say if they knew about all this? What do you think their father would say?"
Mel didn't want to think about that. He swallowed, hard. "You're going to tell them?" He closed his eyes, thinking of the shame.
"I don't want to, Mel," Kat said kindly. "And I'm sure we can make a little deal so I won't have to."
"Tom says you're a dominatrix." Mel wanted, badly, to change the subject.
"Does he now?" Kat asked, and Mel nodded. "It's a limiting label, but it has its uses. If you like it, you can use it." She smiled at him.
To Mel, there was no smile, simply the baring of teeth. It was worse than he imagined. Suddenly, he realized that he was practically naked in front of her. He blushed. The humiliation was furthered when he realized she had watched him beating off.
"Tell you what, Mel: you think on what I've said."We'll talk later - after you've cleaned yourself up and dressed. How's that sound?"
"Okay." Anything to get her out of there.
Kat bared her teeth again and turned away. Oh God, what had he gotten himself into? He watched as she slipped out the door. He slumped into the chair, his dreams crashing around him.
Another woman entered the shower that the sisters had vacated, but Mel's eyes were blind to her features. All he knew was that he had to get out.
"Hi Tom." Stacy walked into the lunch counter.
"Hello, Stacy. What can I do for you?"
"Jennie asked me to get her a bottle of ketchup." Stacy breathed deeply of the freedom from Tom's former attitude.
"Sure thing." Tom reached under the counter and came up with a new bottle. As he handed it to her, he became aware of the choker.
"Nice choker, Stacy," he said with a straight face, "it suits you."
"Thank you, Tom," Stacy couldn't believe how the atmosphere had changed since Mistress Kathryn had come. She made an effort to think of Kat as Mistress Kathryn so as not to displease her if caught off guard. "Mistress Kathryn gave it to me."
"I thought so." Tom spoke kindly, much to Stacy's surprise. "You poor thing. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into. But I'll enjoy watching."
Stacy's anger flared. "I am not a poor thing."
"You're just a pet now, Stacy. Kat's pet." He chuckled as a connection was made, "Yes, a pet cat - a pussy."
Stacy's face burned. "You'll be talking out of the other side of your mouth when we're finished with you." She turned and stomped out, leaving Tom looking thoughtful.
"Have you seen Mel lately, Fred?"
Kat, Fred and Stacy were sitting around the table in the communal kitchen. Fred had been experimenting, and the three were enjoying the fruits of his experiment - a rice dish with cubed chicken breast in a white sauce.
Fred looked up and answered Kat negatively. "Haven't seen him all day, actually. Strange, that. He usually shows up for supper. Maybe today he decided to eat in the lunch counter."
"Perhaps," Kat agreed. "Excellent dinner, Fred."
"Thank you." He grinned. "Is this another one you owe me?" He was not serious, his manner was joking, it was obvious he was joking, yet Kat seemed to take him seriously.
"It could be, but only if you tell me what you want in return. I like to pay off my debts promptly." Her green eyes were cool and calm.
"You don't give up, do you?"
"Never."
Fred took a deep breath. This was becoming tiring. Perhaps he could end it here - he didn't think so, but it was worth a try.
"Okay, then, I'll tell you." He paused and Kat's eyes brightened. Not so fast, my dear, I won't play your game. "I'm willing to cancel all favors you owe me by the simple expedient of your ceasing to play this game of yours with me. Just leave me alone and we're even." The gleam in her eyes faded, replaced with a calculating stare.
"No. You haven't earned that much."
Fred burst out laughing, which didn't seem to improve Kat's disposition. "You just don't get it, do you, Kat?" She made no move to answer. "Okay, I'll tell you then. I don't hold favors as being owed. You don't owe me anything, Kat, you never did. And, unless I specifically enter into an agreement, I don't consider any favors you do me as placing me in your debt.
"And now, ladies, I see it is time for me to head down and help Tom. No rest for the working poor, huh?" He gave them a wave. Something occurred to him and he stopped. He paused a moment before turning. When he did turn, Kat's eyes were on him. Calculating. Had he given something away?
"Kat, you've been trying to get information from and about me. You want to use it to ensnare me, no doubt." Kat's face was expressionless. He felt suddenly old and sad. "You have nothing I want, Kat. You never did. Give it up. Leave me alone. Play your games with the others." He paused for a moment, suppressing memories. "Besides, you keep it up and I leave. There's nothing keeping me here." That wasn't completely true but, if it could get her off his back, a small lie wouldn't hurt too much. Fred forced a smile onto his face. "See, you can't win." He spun around and left.
The hollow sound of his steps as he descended the stairs reverberated in his mind. Talking to her had been a mistake. It simply brought up things better left covered.
"What do you know about him, Stacy?" Kat was beginning to doubt her ability to get Fred. If he truly wanted nothing, she couldn't, as he put it, win.
"Nothing, really, Mistress. He's a real nice person. He never treated me badly in any way." Stacy wanted to help but couldn't.
"Does he like you?"
Stacy smiled, "Oh, I'm sure he does. But he seems to like everybody. He's friendly, but he's friendly to everyone."
"Has he ever mentioned why he's working here? I've read his application. He doesn't say much in it, yet his abilities and his manner seem to indicate that he's well educated. Why is he working as a cook?"
"He hasn't said anything, Mistress. Wait." Stacy thought back. There was something. Kat waited patiently. "Oh, yes. He once said that having a degree didn't always mean anything. I think he was talking about himself."
"Thank you, Stacy, that may help. You can go back down to the office now."
Stacy smiled broadly as she rose and cleared up the dishes. She left feeling good about herself. She had helped her Mistress again.
Kat remained at the table, lost in thought, until she heard Jennie coming up the stairs. Jake was already in their apartment and, as this was his last day at Hotsprings Campsite before his expedition into the capital, it stood to reason that things might become hot once Jennie arrived. Kat rose and placed her glass in the sink, Stacy could clean it later, then made her way back toward her room.
She had almost reached her door when she realized that this was the perfect opportunity to take a look in Fred's room. She turned back to his door and, with a careful look around her, put the passkey in the lock. To her surprise the door had not been locked. She stepped in quickly and closed the door behind her.
For a moment she thought that she was in the wrong room, in the empty room. There were no pictures on the walls. Nothing stood on the dresser, nor on the night table. It was as if no one occupied the room. The bed was neatly made, the floor clean.
Kat opened the closet door. Clothes hung neatly on the hangers. Two suitcases stood on the floor. She pulled them out and opened them. Nothing. She replaced them.
The dresser drawers held little. All that he had, she realized, would fit in the two small cases. Fred was more of a mystery than she had expected. She turned to the night table. There was a bag in the lower compartment. It held a 35mm camera. A good one. There were two other lenses in it and a single roll of film. Nothing else. She opened the night table drawer. Within was a small box and a few assorted items: A pen, car keys, cough drops, some loose change. She lifted the box out carefully, so as to disturb nothing else. Damn. It was locked. She replaced it and exited the room after checking to see that the bathroom had the same empty quality to it that the bedroom did.
Very, very interesting. Who was this young man?
Back in her room, Kat took out a little receiver and plugged her earphones into it. She turned it on. It was the receiver set from a Baby-Minder. Parents were encouraged to place the transmitter in their baby's room and take the receiver with them so they could monitor their baby from any room in the house. It had become quite a popular item. Kat had her own ideas about usage and their worth.
The transmitter now sat behind the Saunders' bed, plugged into the spare receptacle. Now she would be able to hear whatever went on. She turned up the volume and adjusted her earphones. Ah, yes. They were there, all right, just as she had suspected they would be.
"You look so lovely, Jennie, spread like that. It makes me hard just to look at you." Jake's voice was fairly clear.
"Come inside me, honey. I'm ready." Kat could imagine her, spread-eagled on the bed.
"I know you are, but you're going to have to beg." He laughed as she gave a sudden gasp. Had he suddenly introduced a finger into her?
"What are you doing?" Ah, she was wearing the blindfold that Kat had discovered in the little box.
"You like?" He chuckled.
"It tickles." The feather? There were some squeaking sounds as if she were trying, unsuccessfully of course, to escape her bonds, shaking the bed in her attempts.
"Mmmm." It was an erotic hum. Was he flicking her nipples with the feather? Perhaps drawing it down her oh so sensitive neck and across her breasts? Kat realized that she was becoming wet as she struggled to interpret the sounds she was hearing. She quickly undressed and lay down on her own bed.
It would be nice to kick Big Jake out and continue working on Jennie herself. Jennie continued to make little humming, mewling noises. Kat imagined flicking the feather across Jennie's nipples, seeing her breasts sloshing about as she tried to avoid the little caresses. She touched her own nipples. Ah, yes, that would be what Jennie would be feeling. That glorious current running between the nipples, the trigger for deeper sensations within the core. Oh, yes.
A sudden gasp. Had Jake transferred his attention to Jennie's unprotected cunt? Was the feather stroking her clit, now bared by her widespread legs? Or was the feather gently caressing her cuntlips? Kat's fingers moved down to gently stroke her own labia. She would have Jennie begging for release before she stopped."Like it down there?" Yes, she had been right.
"Come inside me," the voice was pleading. Not a chance.
Make her beg first.
Another gasp. A flick on the clit? Kat flicked her own and gave a gasp herself. Jennie would be helpless, at her mercy.
"What's your hurry?" Good. "We have plenty of time. Here, suck on my finger, make it good and wet." Kat put a finger in her mouth and tasted her own juices on it. She hummed, with Jennie, in contentment.
That's it Jennie, get it good and wet, you know where it's going. Poor Jennie. What a lovely body to play with, to tease, to drive wild. No release for poor Jennie - not soon at any rate.
A sucking sound - had the finger been suddenly removed? Kat removed her own and positioned it at her portal, at Jennie's portal, ready to plunge deep inside.
The cry. Her finger plunged inside and she, too, cried out Jennie's cry. Whimper, Jennie, whimper as the finger moves in and out; thrash about, unable to escape. Buck those hips in the air as the finger rides you.
Kat was wetter than she'd been in a long time. Her hips gyrated as her finger plunged in and out. Now a second joined the first even as she heard yet another cry through the phones.
"Jake, Jake. Please stop. I'm going to come. I want you inside me when I come. Please Jake. I'm begging, Jake, I'm begging. Please come in me, please." Not good enough, Jennie, not good enough.
Kat rode herself, her breathing ragged, as she would ride Jennie, forcing her breathing to come in great gasps and gulps, forcing her to cry out, begging for more.
"I'm sorry I asked you to let me tie you up Jake. I'm sorry." She sounded sorry. Not good enough Jennie, you know what to do, do it. "Fuck me, Jake. Please, fuck me. Use me, fuck me, put it in and fuck me hard, please, Jake, I'm begging."
Yes! Beg like a slut, Jennie. Beg to be used.
"You want to be fucked?" Jake's voice was harsh, rasping.
"Yes, Jake, fuck me, fuck me good."
The bed creaked. Kat withdrew her fingers then placed a third with the other two, waiting. Okay, Jennie, you want to be fucked, I'll fuck you. I have a strap-on, Jennie, you'll like that.
Kat listened intently. She cried out almost as Jennie cried out and Jake grunted. The three fingers plunged inside as Jake's cock parted Jennie's cunt and drove in to the hilt. The ride became a wild one, the three fingers driving in and out while the first two fingers of the other hand stroked and rubbed her clit ever faster.
Kat's hips came off the bed, her legs pushing them ever higher, poised on the moment, timing it exactly. Her center was a liquid volcano, ready to erupt, sitting on the edge. Ecstasy only a moment away. You can't fight it, Jennie. Now, Jennie, now.
The wail in her ears matched the wail in her throat as she pitched that last inch upwards, the warmth exploding in waves throughout her, until her trembling thighs could hold her no longer and she collapsed to the bed, panting heavily.
She was covered with a sheen of sweat, and she pulled the sheet over herself as she slowly came down, hearing her own soft words calming and soothing Jennie.
It had been wild, she thought, as her heavy eyelids closed. Wild and wonderful. And, as a bonus, an important piece of information had come her way. The smile creasing her lips faded as she drifted off to a warm and wonderful sleep.
End Chapter 4, Hotsprings by Delta. | 4 |
5,060 | Marcia's Predicament | "A lady came up to the farmer's house and said, 'I've just run over your cat and I'd like to replace it.' The farmer scratched his chin, looked at her for a moment, and said, 'Very well, how good are you at catching mice?'" It was an old joke, buried deep in the recesses of Marcia's mind. But when the body is restrained, the mind is free to wander where it will. Marcia's body was definitely restrained, and her mind was definitely wandering. For the past thirty hours, it had wandered far and wide, digging into the most remote areas of her memory. Sometimes while she dreamt away the agony of the present, sometimes while she absorbed every little nuance of her predicament, every sound in her new world. This old story resurfaced over and over.
His footsteps finally tore her from her reverie, and she watched his approach. There was not much else she could do! He stepped through the last row of corn stalks and grinned. "Ready for a little break?", he asked. A soft moan was her response, which he took for a yes. "Okay, but remember the rules." He stepped forward and undid the leather strap around her neck. Next, he carefully rolled up the stocking which he had pulled over her head. This stocking also covered the post against which she strained, keeping her head pinned firmly against it. He rolled the stocking up until the roll pressed across her eyes, forbidding her from looking down and offering her very little view in any other direction. He undid the strap which held the ball in her mouth; it, too, fastened behind the post and prevented her from turning her head. Free to speak, Marcia desperately wanted to plead for mercy, but not a word came out. She knew the drill; he was going to give her food and water, but if she made a sound, the break was over. So she bit her tongue and stifled her urge.
She could not help herself; she was totally dependent upon his generosity. He didn't seem to have much. He proffered a squeeze bottle of water; she drank greedily. A small whimper escaped her lips as he withdrew the bottle; he ignored it. He spooned some cereal into her mouth. It was already soggy with milk, so she had little problem chewing it enough to swallow, even though her jaw ached. "It has 100 percent of the vitamins and minerals you need every day", he offered. A faint smile crossed her lips, then faded into the reality of her helplessness. He alternated cereal and water, until both were gone. He dabbed up the spillage and gave her a quick kiss. She knew he was ready to replace the gag anyway, so she summoned her strength for one heartrending plea for mercy. It was cut off before it got started as he stuffed the ball in her mouth the first time she opened it enough to do so easily. Her tears were hidden by the rolled stocking as he buckled the strap back behind the post.
He fluffed her hair behind her back, rearranging it to fall evenly across her back. Then he rolled the stocking back down and strapped it into place with the collar. He removed the floppy straw hat she wore and checked the stocking for rips. There were none, so he replaced the hat, smoothed the stocking over her face, briefly held her chin in his hand, and gave her a gentle peck on the cheek through the nylon. He then set about checking the rest of her bonds.
Her arms shared a long-sleeved flannel shirt with a rough rod about eight feet long. He had tied a rope across her right palm, pinning the back of her hand against the rod. After knotting this first loop, he had arranged some bits of straw around her wrist and up the sleeve of her shirt. The rope from her hand was then wound repeatedly around her arm, clamping it firmly to the rod, until he reached her shoulder, where he tied it off. The left arm was fixed similarly. Nothing had come loose, and there was no need to replace the straw, as she had not worked any of it out. She groaned, knowing she would spend another day being scratched and tickled by its presence. Her arms and the rod were fastened to the post by a rope which started behind the post, came around on both sides above her shoulders, passed under her arms and rod, and crossed behind the post. This was repeated several times, with some passes being looped through the ropes around her arms, to keep them from slipping up her arms. He checked, and this ropework was still tight, too.
He surprised her. Instead of just checking the rope which held her torso against the post, he undid it. He paused to unbutton the itchy flannel shirt, pulling it apart enough to expose her breasts; she wore nothing underneath it. He allowed himself a little fun, after all. He teased her nipples a bit, traced complex designs on her belly with his fingernail, and allowed a cool breeze to caress her nakedness. Then he was done. He rebuttoned the shirt and replaced the rope. Across her body, above the breasts and below her arms, back behind the post and tug, to make sure it was tight. A knot would keep her from shifting any slack she might find. Back around front, under her breasts this time, back behind the post, and knot. Around again a little lower, and then one more time around her waist. She was again plastered to the post and could not move a muscle.
The rope which glued her rump to the post was checked but not removed. It started at the waist, made a couple of passes across her pelvic regions before disappearing between her legs from the front. Resurfacing behind, this rope was carefully situated between her cheeks before being drawn up behind her back, brought around to the front of her arms, across her shoulders and tied behind the post at the level of her neck. This was her main means of support since her feet were far from the ground.
From there, he checked the ropes around her legs. The upper legs were fastened in an alternating pattern -- one time tied around the legs themselves and crossed behind them before finishing a figure eight around the post, the next just around her legs and the post in one circle. He thought this might be "more interesting" to her. It took about a dozen loops to reach her knees. The jeans she wore had rivets down each seam, providing a fine "catch" for each loop to keep it from sliding down. She hadn't been able to move enough to cause any to slip, but he found some slack and went about removing it. Below her knees, another rope wound from behind the post to the inside of each leg, around the front, and back behind the post. This pulled her legs slightly apart; more so as the rope got lower. At her ankles, the rope around her legs passed in front of the post instead and looped once more around her ankles, pulling her legs together and keeping her from kicking them back in an effort to loosen the rest of the rope. After a couple of times around her ankles, the rope was passed over the loop just above her ankle loop to cinch it. Nothing had come loose here, and the straw he had tied under her jeans to hide her feet was still there. Like that around her wrists, the straw irritated her with a thousand tiny pinpricks, but she could not dislodge it.
She wore stockings, but no shoes. Her feet were tied with a rope which came around her ankles, across the top of her feet, and then several times around at her instep. The way her legs were tied, her feet would not come together, but he pulled them as close as he could. The last of the rope was used to cinch the foot ropes before going around the post and being knotted there. Nothing was loose here, and he paused a moment to tease the soles of her feet. Yes, she was still receiving sensations from her feet; he could tell by her desperate struggles and low moan. But she was definitely not going anywhere!
Satisfied, he straightened up and took one more long look at her. Picking up the bowl and water bottle, he stepped back through the row of corn. Before disappearing from sight completely, he turned, waved cheerily, and said, "Keep the crows away. I'll check on you again tonight!".
Marcia cried as he vanished. Nothing to do but hang around all day in the hot sun, watching the corn grow. Bitterly, she remembered tentatively knocking on his door, hoping no one would be home. But he was there. "I'm sorry," she had said, "but my car ran off the road. I destroyed your scarecrow, and I'd like to replace it."Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ
http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/----http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq. | 3 |
5,064 | Peeler RP: Manhattan Madness - Part 12 (end) | "ATTENTION. FLIGHT 623 TO CHICAGO IS BOARDING ALL ROWS..."
"That's me," Jim said sadly, holding his sister's hand as they sat near the boarding ramp.
"Don't be such a gloomy Gus," Beth said, squeezing his hand and kissing him on the cheek.
"What did you expect, Liz? After all, he's leaving us two sexy creatures behind," Julie teased, from his other side.
"Well, not forever," Beth promised.
"That's true," Jim said confidently, "And until then I've got plenty of memories to last me."
"Not to mention those Polaroids!" Julie sexily said as she kissed his other cheek. Their last night had been captured on Polaroids and a camcorder; the girls would keep the camcorded chronicle.
"Hide those good," Beth said, kissing his ear.
"I better get on board...before you two get me going again."
He stood up and they walked over to the gate. There were about 20 guys in Army uniforms in line to board, and their heads all swiveled toward him and his two shapely companions.
"Look at those wolves," Julie kidded as they mentally undressed her. Boy, would they be surprised!
"Yeah, I think we ought to show them who we're with," Beth said, and she turned his face to her and kissed him hard, with lots of tongue. He felt Julie leaning against him, her hand going to rub his crotch. As fast as their little show began, the girls disengaged themselves and headed back down the terminal, waving goodbye and then hugging each other as they sashayed out of sight.
Jim turned around to find the Army grunts staring at him.
"If you got it, you got it!" he said.
THE END | 1 |
5,072 | The Rooster | "The rooster has come home to roost," read the 2-star National Guard general. "The US military for years trained and supported death squads in El Salvador and Colombia - and now shadowy groups have emerged here at home - killing us!" The general put the newspaper down and lit up a cigar. "Damn right," the general thought, "and you're next!"
The general, in his younger years when he was just a major in the real army, was among those special forces who were sent in to Central America to help eliminate the communists who had infested the little minds of little peasants and poor people. Communism was like a disease, and it had to be weeded out. Commie bastards were crawling all over the place down there, but he and his comrades had done the job. They were fully-functioning democracies now! How 'bout that? Why wasn't this 'student leader,' who was being quoted in the newspaper, saying anything about that?! He's a communist, that's why, and the disease had spread throughout the great US of A. His men were called on to defend American interests in Central America, and now they were needed right here at home.
The operation was black, of course. The press knew how to stay in line, and those among them who grew sympathetic of the red faggots were quietly and quickly made to 'disappear.' The general cackled, then coughed, then sucked on his cigar. "Sergeant!" he barked, and immediately Sgt. Williams appeared in the doorway to the general's office. Sgt. Williams was a good 'ole boy, raised in Missouri and knew what it meant to tend the land, raise cattle, and hump a whore. The general liked him despite his penchant for serious ass-kissing. A general needed his ass kissed, anyway.
"Yes, sir?" Williams asked. "Get this fucker in here asap! I can't stand to read about this anti-American 'graduate' student, this 'intellectual wonder' as the paper calls him! Get this Giuseppe Firenze in here," the general commanded. "Yes, sir," said the sergeant who promptly left the general's office. The general could hear the young sergeant barking commands and giving orders like a little general. It pleased the general to have such dedicated young men in his secret unit.
The general looked down at the paper again, his face growing red with anger. People just don't know, he thought. The red menace was back and stronger than ever. College campuses once again were becoming havens for 'young intellectuals,' a code word for communists. Giuseppe - what kind of name was that! A friggin' immigrant! Of course! That was the cause of it all, wasn't it? Mexicans moving in and taking over - and everyone knows that Mexicans are communists. Not even human. Traitors. Murderers. And this guy, this Giuseppe - what was that, Italian? Probably. Wops were no better than Mexicans. Wops sided with Hitler, then when the Allies began to win the war, the cowards switched sides! Once a betrayer, always a betrayer - even if they did switch to our side.
It was only about an hour later when Sgt. Williams reported that Giuseppe was in custody along with his girlfriend and other friends. How fast, how efficient his unit ran! The general was pleased. But, girlfriend? Yeah, right, thought the general. Everyone knew that communists were really homosexuals. She was probably just a cover.
"Bring in that traitor," the general commanded. Williams disappeared then reappeared leading the 'young intellectual' into the room. The general was surprised by the young man's age - he was older than the average college student. He was about 26, with long jet black hair that was in his eyes and his face, all stringy and twisted into dreadlocks like a Jamaican rastafarian. His face was youthful, his eyes dark, his skin slightly dark in that Mediterranean complexion. He was very skinny, but athletic - like a swimmer...or a surfer. Yes, that's what this 'cool look' was probably all about. He was a pot-smoking, crack-sniffing, faggot surfer. He was a faggot all the way!, the general thought.
The general smiled at the lad and nicely asked him to have a seat. The general saw that Giuseppe was handcuffed and told Williams that handcuffs would not be needed. His eyes told Williams that this skinny little punk could easily be handled without cuffs.
The young man's dark eyes were fearful, but defiant. He pushed his little chest out, the general noted with amusement. The 'boy' sat down with ease, his shoulders slumping. "We're sorry for having to bring you and your friends down here," the general explained in a soft and understanding voice, "but we're going to need some information." The general went on to explain that they were concerned about the recent disappearances of college students and professors, artists, and other intellectuals. The general assured him that he could protect them if only he told them what their plans were, what activities took place where - so that they could be protected. The young lad said he knew of no plans or activities, but he thanked the general for his concern and for his offer of help. Coy little devil, the general thought.
"How old are you, son?" the general asked. "28," Giuseppe replied. 28? Wow, the guy looked like he was 26, or even 23, but not 28. It was probably the long hair, the oversized t-shirt and baggy jeans that the man was wearing that made him look so much younger. But 28 was young, the general thought, remembering that he had reached his peak in physical fitness around age 31 - when he could run 12 miles without even breaking a sweat! "What are you studying?" the general asked. "Anthropology," the young man replied. "I'm a graduate student." "Oh? Master's program?" "Ph.D.," the boy answered. "Really! How nice."
The general stood up from behind his desk and moved to the front, sitting on it. Bending over until his nose was almost touching Giuseppe's, he whispered, "You're going to tell me everything I want to know and you're going to tell me right now, you fucking mogul!" The general glared into Giuseppe's dark eyes, and he noted the black eyebrows and how they involuntarily twitched as the general's words hung in the room like the smoke from his cigar.
"I don't know anything," Giuseppe said. Sgt. Williams silently moved into the room behind Giuseppe, along with Private Bundy, another dependable young man who grew up in Texas and was a Damn Fine American. Big, burly, and always hungry for a fight. Bundy was a brawler. The Guard needed more brawlers like him. The general sighed, sucked his cigar, then whispered "you will, my boy, you will."
Sgt. Williams grabbed the dark 'young intellectual' from behind, putting him in a chokehold and immediately cutting off his breath. He was yanked backwards out of his seat, the chair spilling over onto its back, the legs facing the general's desk. The boy struggled for breath, his arms reaching up and struggling to remove Williams' arms. Williams kept the pressure on him and placed his knee into the small of the skinny man's back, arching his body.
The stretching and arching of the skinny man's body raised his t-shirt, exposing his tiny protruding knot of a navel, exciting the general. Of course, thought the general, the lad had an outtie belly button like all faggots and had no hair on his body! The brawler private stepped forward then and landed a meaty punch right in the boy's stomach, and his legs buckled immediately, Sgt. Williams letting the boy slip out of his grip and onto the floor where he gasped for breath but couldn't find any.
Bundy the brawler stepped forward again, lifting the little commie off the ground by his shirt and reached back to bash his face with a powerful Texan right, but the kid surprisingly landed a head butt on the private's jaw. The general was surprised to see a wild look take hold in the young man's dark eyes, and watched in satisfaction as the Mediterranean youth showed speed and agility with three quick jabs to the private's nose and then a lightning-quick right that flashed before the private's eyes. A loud 'snap!' echoed in the room as the beefy private stumbled backwards against the wall, blood pouring from between his fingers as his hands tried to cover his broken nose. Sgt. Williams immediately tried to subdue the dark-haired young man from behind, but the youth's quick kick to his shins left him gasping, and the boy then darted for the door.
The commotion in the general's office brought soldiers scrambling into the doorway, and the dark-haired man they had brought in earlier ran right into them.They quickly subdued him and threw him to the ground, the soldiers kicking him over and over in the stomach and ribs. "Enough!" yelled the beefy private. "He's mine." The soldiers stepped back as the young brawler with the now-broken nose stepped forward. The general was smiling from ear to ear. How the boy fought! What a complete surprise! The skinny young man broke the Texan's nose! Too bad the lad was a communist!
The Texan private looked to the general for approval, and he got it with a nod and sparkling eyes. The old man was loving this, Bundy thought - and so was he. The boy on the ground before him turned out to be a worthy opponent. Too many are not willing to fight - but this kid, this skinny kid, he had balls. He felt the pain in his nose. Of course, the skinny little fuck was going to pay for it now, though.
The dark-haired young man was about to jump up with newfound speed and agility after so successfully feigning injury, but the Texan was wise to him now. His steel-toed boot caught him in the belly as he was gracefully rising off the floor, but there was no faking the 'whumph!' that sent air rushing out of the boy's lungs. The boy fell forward hard, groping his little stomach, his mouth wide open trying to suck in air. The Texan landed another steel-toed kick into the boy's side, knocking him over onto his back, his black t-shirt crumpling up over his skinny middle section. The private's eyes noted the boy's soft little belly with the protruding navel that he was sure ladies would kill for. Bundy then leaped into the air and brought his full 215 pounds onto the young man's curved and soft little stomach. The dark-haired guy's body bounced into the air, then back down onto his back.
The boy's eyes were opened wide and staring up at the ceiling - the private could see them struggling to focus, and it was a sign of victory! He kicked the boy in the side, and a sickening 'crack!' filled their ears. The young man was no longer resisting, his stomach - now turning a light blue - was rising and falling rapidly and with irregularity.
The general stepped forward then, placing a hand onto the private's shoulder. "Good, Tex, good boy." Tex stepped back, smiling, savoring his victory. All the soldiers slapped him on the back, saying "tiger" and "wow, did you hear his ribs break, man?!"
The general, bent over the young man like a rooster, looked down into his dark eyes. "Are you ready to answer my questions, boy?" he asked. The dark eyes were focusing and unfocusing - the boy was semi-conscious, the general realized. "Damn, Tex, I think you might've killed him."
The soldiers looked at the proud skinny young dark-haired man lying at the general's feet. His shirt was crumpled up to his skinny but firm chest now, and the general noted the slender muscles and excellent tone. The kid's clothes did not accentuate his athletic physique, causing them to underestimate the boy's physical abilities. This was important to remember, the general thought. The young man's dark eyes remained fixated on the ceiling, trying to focus but failing to hold it. The boy's breathing grew harsher and more erratic. Both of his hands cradled his little belly, now a darker shade of blue and beginning to bulge slightly, his knot of a navel protruding out a little further.
The general stepped back aghast as the boy's belly suddenly bulged, his navel protruding ominously from his blue stomach. The navel continued to extend outward, growing outwards with a sickly wet sound until the stem showed. It looked like a twig sticking out of his stomach, growing. The stomach retreated, as did the navel, but the navel protruded further now than before. It was almost obscene. Everyone's eyes remained transfixed on the boy's bluish stomach which was still rising and falling rapidly and erratically. "I killed him," said the Texan with satisfaction. "Did you see his belly button? Wow!"
The skinny young man's body suddenly arched, his navel protruding even further, his head turning towards the soldiers, his mouth opening wide as thick dark blood erupted from his wide-open mouth, spilling down his cheek. He began to gurgle, his dark eyes continuing to focus and unfocus as they now fixated on the soldiers' shiny boots.
The boy's body jerked then, his hands slipping from his belly and to his sides, the fingers twitching. The boy's body began to twitch violently as he slipped into convulsions, the dark eyes wide open and unblinking. The boy's twitching became less frequent, finally stopping.
The soldiers stood mesmerized by the young man's dead body. His tiny stomach was slightly swollen and blue, his knot of a navel protruding obscenely from his belly with its stem showing - it was extremely sensual and sexually stimulating, even though the soldiers were all straight men. The boy's dark eyes were wide open and staring at the soldier's boots, blood and spittle leaking out of the youth's partially-opened mouth. His legs were bent at angles and his baggy jeans had slipped down just a little below the tan line showing the curves of his hips.
"Bring in the next one," the general commanded. The soldiers all filed out except for Williams and Tex. Another young dark-headed youth was led in, his eyes immediately going to the dark staring eyes of the dreadlocked dead boy, then to his little bulging stomach with the incredibly protruding belly button. A tingle of excitement pressed against his sex. He could not take his eyes off of Giuseppe's beautiful corpse, those dark staring eyes, the protruding belly button, the way he laid there. As the general began to question him, he only hoped that he could look like Giuseppe did before the day was over. | 1 |
5,076 | The Complete Takeover | "So, Mr. Howe, why are you here?"
"Please, call me Glenn. May I call you Patrick?"
Wanting to keep his distance, Pat Erickson replied, "Mr. Howe, your reputation as a takeover pirate is well known..."
"That is unfair. All of my, shall we say, acquisitions have been done with the blessing of the principals!"
"...what you say appears to be true...on the surface. All I know is that initially, firms are ironclad in their desire to resist your overtures, but soon, somehow, for some reason, the CEOs and Powers that be become your..." Pat searched for the appropriate word.
"...boys...?" Glenn interjected, wanting to get that word into Erickson's subconscious as early as possible.
"...disciples..." Pat continued. "I can assure you, Mr. Howe, if that is your purpose for being here, to take over our firm...which my father has spent his lifetime building...you are wasting your time. In fact, my father is so adamant that he even refuses to see you. He asked me to see you ONLY as a business courtesy. So, in response to your question, Mr. Howe, I despise the name Patrick, my friends call me Pat, but you may address me as Mr. Erickson!"
Inwardly, Glenn smiled. "Oh good," he thought to himself, "a defiant one. They always prove to be the most fun to manipulate and subjugate...and this one has such a nice firm body which I am going to enjoy having at my beck and call!"
But to his prey, "I see. Then Mr. Erickson it shall be...for now. But then, to be consistent, I would like you to address me as Dr. Howe!"
There was a hurried knock on the door, and before Erickson could respond, a young man rushed in. "Sorry about the interruption, Pat, but I thought you should see these figures!"
As Erickson examined the document, Glenn carefully studied the intruder, whom he judged to be an inch shorter than his own 6'3" and weighing about 220...a very muscular 220. (With the proper training, Glenn thought, he would make a very good lure for other fish.)
"Yes, yes...this is what I expected," Pat remarked. Then, remembering the visitor, Pat quickly changed the subject. "Forgive my rudeness, Mr. Howe, this is Mike Miller, our best salesman."
The two men exchanged a firm handshake.
"Well, Michael, I can see by your build that you must use your own products."
Blushing, Miller replied, "I prefer Mike...(not another one, thought Howe)...but thank you for noticing. Actually, using our workout machines has two advantages...I am walking evidence as to what our machines can do, which helps my sales pitch...and when I turn on the charm, I can turn even the most religious of females into shimmying jello by flirting with my muscles!"
"With those pecs, I'm sure you turn some male's heads as well," Glenn teased, causing the red in Miller's face to deepen. Howe continued, "Do I detect a Southern accent, Mr. Miller?"
"Why yes, I got my MA at the University of Alabama..."
"Ah, The Tide...you guys have been getting your asses beat by The Gators of late..."
"That's only because they have been getting better Negro players than us."
(The use of that "N" word did not go unnoticed by Howe. "So, Michael looks down on Blacks, does he!" he thought.)
"Yes, THEY have..."
"You went to Florida?"
"Yes, me and my number two man. I would like you to meet him someday..."
"Stay away from my people, Howe...especially Mike...understand!" Erickson said with some irritation in his voice.
"Tell you what, after he leaves your office, I won't set eyes on him again...unless you give your blessing...and are there in person."
"Well, that will never happen," Erickson shot back. Then, turning to Miller, he nodded towards the door, indicating he was to leave. Miller got the message and, after another handshake, took his leave.
"I mean what I said, Howe...stay away...now, where were we...?"
"I had just requested that you address me as Doctor..."
"Doctor? ...There is no data in our dossier on you that you are a Doctor...but this is immaterial, however, as after your short presentation to me...what did I tell you I would allow...one half hour...we will not be seeing each other again! But you have me curious...just what is your degree in...Mr. Howe?"
"Psychology...with a special interest in the subconscious. The fact that you were not aware is by my design. I purposely keep a low profile when it comes to my achievements in this field...except for those I choose."
"And you have chosen me..." Pat asked in a mocking voice.
"Yes...I have chosen you, Pat-trick..." (thinking of the tricks he would soon have this young muscular stud performing to fulfill his need for sexual satisfaction).
"I told you I dislike the name Patrick, Mis...eh...Doctor."
The fact that Patrick had, even in his anger, corrected himself and used the term he was instructed to use both pleased and excited Glenn. It showed that Patrick's subconscious was every bit as pliable and obedient as his profile had predicted.
"Well, I am a very persuasive man...who's to say what I'll have you believing, accepting as gospel, agreeing to do, and wantoning before you've finished viewing my presentation!" (The use of the word 'wantoning' was a subtle trick...using a word which sounded similar to another but with a much more provocative meaning. Though Patrick did not consciously catch it, Glenn knew Patrick's subconscious would be excited by its use.)
"I for one can...and I'm telling you you're wasting both your and my time. I shan't be swayed by any of your mind games! My willpower is as strong as yours. Now, I suggest you begin as you've already cutting into your allotted time, and I have a lunch date with my fiancée."
("Not only shall I have you swaying to my mental manipulations, my big hot stud," Glenn thought to himself, "but I intend to program you to my liking and needs as well! As far as lunch is concerned, I think you're going to break it, of your own 'free will' as well as canceling all of your afternoon appointments just so you can spend it here alone with me in your office!")
"Very well. A moment ago you referred to your father's refusal to see me. This is actually the reaction I expected and planned for. You see, Mr. Erickson, it is you whom I intend to convert. Your father is old and shall be retiring soon. It is a well-known fact that when he does, you shall be the big boy around here."
"Now just a minute..." Patrick interrupted.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhh," Glenn urged (since he had begun his mental attack on Patrick's brain, Glenn had been subtly lowering his voice, luring Patrick's subconscious into concentrating all the more on his every word), "this is my half hour...to give me the slightest chance, I want you to be a good boy by sitting there and listening...only speaking when I require you to...you will do that for me...won't you?...It's only fair..."
As he spoke, Glenn wiggled his index finger in a side-to-side motion. To his excitement, Patrick's eyes followed the movement of the finger.
"Only fair..." Patrick responded in a whisper as his head nodded while his eyes continued to follow the swaying finger. Glenn also noticed that Patrick's voice had lowered to match his own...another good sign that he was succumbing to Glenn's manipulative powers. Now to spin a sexual cocoon around this heterosexual caterpillar and transform him into a submissive, obedient homosexual butterfly.
"Good boy," Glenn purposely used the phrase "boy" as often as possible to condition his prey to its sound.
Glenn slowly moved his finger up to in front of his face so that now, as Patrick followed the movement of the finger, he stared unknowingly into Glenn's deep brown eyes.
"Now, I have prepared a very special presentation for you. Take this disk and load it into your drive." He was talking almost in a whisper now, but Patrick heard him loud and clear as he obediently took the disk and inserted it into his PC.
"Now put on your earphones...""We don't want to disturb your secretary who is sitting right outside the door. Now type b:\takeover...."
Hit enter....
Patrick again did exactly as told, never once taking his eyes off Glenn's deep, seemingly bottomless brown spheres. As soon as he hit enter, however, a bright multicolored spiral began spinning on his screen. The pattern was so seductive that Patrick's eyes were immediately lured to it, and he was captivated.
In unison, a combination of musical notes began to filter into Patrick's brain through the earphones. Anyone hearing these sounds over a speaker would judge them as a collection of unrelated notes. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, they were very specific sounds, designed for a very definite purpose. The sounds coming through the left earphone were different than those coming through the right, each targeting the side of the brain that heard it.
Glenn continued to observe Patrick's eyes. In them, he could see the mesmerizing dance of the sphere. The combination of the sphere and the music had their intended results as Patrick's eyes became completely dilated. "First the eyes, now the mind," Glenn thought.
A soothing voice began to whisper directly into Patrick's innermost thought receptors. "Glenn is so handsome, so sexy, so desirable, so trustworthy. Glenn is my friend. Glenn is so handsome, so sexy, so desirable, so trustworthy. Glenn is my friend. Glenn is so handsome, so sexy...." This compelling chant repeated itself over and over again. It was not long before Patrick's lips first mouthed and then whispered this thought as it was drummed into him.
The next phase of Patrick's enslavement began. Both the image and the sound changed, inducing stress in anyone watching and wearing the headphones. The stress became evident on Patrick's face. The voice on the disk (Glenn's voice) returned, "Feel the stress. Glenn can free you. Ask Glenn to rub you. Feel the stress. Glenn can free you. Ask Glenn to rub you. Feel the stress..."
"Doctor Howe, please rub my neck!"
"Of course, my boy, anything to please...."
"Your boy, anything to please," repeated Patrick.
Glenn loved this whole technique. To him, the seduction was so erotic. He moved behind Patrick, removed his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly pulling the shirt over the growing bulge in his pants. Though he still wore the shirt, Patrick's neck and muscular chest were now completely exposed to Glenn's manipulative fingers.
Glenn did not miss his cue. He began to give Patrick a massage like none other he had ever received. He paid particular attention to the nerves at the base of the brain and to Patrick's well-developed pecs. Relax the brain, stimulate the body. As programmed, the screen image and sounds which Patrick saw and heard again changed, reinforcing in his now very receptive mind how safe he was when in Glenn's hands.
Glenn's recorded voice now coaxed Patrick's eyes to close. "Your eyes are so heavy, tired and heavy, heavy and tired. You cannot keep them open. Try to resist, try to keep them open, to watch the pretty swirling spiral. The harder you try, the heavier your eyelids become. The harder you try, the HARDER you become (now as he massaged his nipples). Harder, HARDER, heavier, heavier, as your eyes close, you continue to see the swirling spiral. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Do you see the spiral, Patrick?"
"...Yes..." Patrick whispered.
Glenn now removed the headphones from Patrick's head as he aroused the pecs of his entranced prey. With his mouth now just inches from Patrick's ear, Glenn whispered hotly, "You like it when I call you Patrick, it turns you on. Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny Patrick, see the spiral and say it...."
"...Like you to call me Patrick, makes me hot, makes me horny...."
"Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny...."
"Patrick, hot, Patrick, horny...."
"You like it when I call you boy, because that is what you are, my boy...."
"...Like when you call me boy, because that is what I am, your boy."
"Patrick, hot, horny, boy....."
"Patrick, hot, horny, boy....."
"Hot, horny, boy....."
"Hot, horny, boy....."
"Patrick, do you have plans for tonight and the weekend?"
"...Yes...."
"Tell me what they are...."
"...Picking out wedding rings with my fiancée, making plans for the reception...."
"No, Patrick, you have more important things to do...."
"More important things....."
"Yes, you need to be with me, want to be with me, you want me. REPEAT!"
"I need to be with you, I want to be with you, I want you..."
"Again..."
"I need to be with you, I want to be with you, I want you..."
"Open your eyes, boy, gaze at the spinning spiral, pick up the phone, call your fiancée, cancel lunch, and all your plans with her for tonight and the weekend, tell her you have to work...."
As Patrick obeyed, Glenn continued to whisper in Patrick's other ear erotic thoughts of submissive obedience.
When he hung up the phone, Glenn asked Patrick what she had said.
"She was pissed...."
"It's okay, she was pissed. You know you NEED TO BE WITH ME. REPEAT!"
"It's okay, she was pissed. I know I need to be with you..."
"You NEED TO BE WITH ME."
"I need to be with you."
"Good boy. You will come to me tonight. You will not make any other plans or tell anyone else where you are going. For the rest of the day, you will think of nothing else but your desire, your need to come to me tonight, to be with me tonight and for the entire weekend, all day, all night. Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Good boy. Tell me what you lust to do tonight and tomorrow and Sunday."
"I lust to come to you, I need to be with you, tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday, all day, all night!"
"Yes, boy, all day, all night, nothing matters except you, except me, especially me, and your desires to please me. REPEAT, boy!"
"...all day, all night, nothing matters except you and my desires to please you!"
"It will be our secret," Glenn whispered hotly in Patrick's ear as he daringly cupped the bulge in Patrick's pants.
Patrick was now so completely under Glenn's hypnotic influence that all he could do was sigh erotically, "...our secret...."
Stroking Patrick's hard cock through his pants, Glenn led him yet deeper, "You like having secrets with me, Patrick. Tell me, boy!"
"I like having secrets with you...."
"We shall have many secrets, each will reinforce your allegiance to me, each you will find more erotic than the one before it. You like erotic secrets, don't you, Patrick!" It was a command, not a question.
"Yes...."
"Patrick, be a good boy and remove the disk, hand it to me!"
"Now, Patrick, when I count to five, you shall awaken. You shall feel relaxed and refreshed. You shall be in awe of me from both a physical and business sense. You shall have no conscious remembrance of anything which has transpired. You will only know that we have more to talk about. The fact that your shirt is open will seem very natural. You shall stand up and dress yourself in front of me without giving it a second thought. You shall not feel awkward about the hardness of your cock, it will seem so natural. You shall look forward to being with me tonight. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Even when fully conscious, you will remain completely susceptible to my suggestions and commands. Say it for me, Patrick!"
"Even when fully conscious, completely susceptible to your suggestions and commands...."
"Yes, susceptible to my suggestions and commands. You want to please me. Say it!"
"I want to please you....."
"I excite you like no one you have ever known....."
"You excite me like no one I have ever known......"
(Patrick had slipped yet further under Glenn's hypnotic spell because he now repeated his master's words without being prompted. It just seemed so natural to repeat, and when he repeated, when he heard his own voice speak the words, it gave powerful credence to the meaning of the words!)
"I excite you and you NEED TO PLEASE ME!"
"You excite me, I need to please you...."
"Whenever you hear me say the phrase 'Please me, boy,' your conscious mind will immediately sleep, your subconscious mind will replace it, and you shall be TOTALLY OBEDIENT to my will. Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, I understand...."
"Good boy, you please me....."
(Glenn observed how Patrick's cock visually hardened when he heard that.)
Then, noticing the expensive Rolex watch Patrick wore on his wrist, Glenn added, "You desire to give me something of great value to prove your sincerity to continue our talks, don't you, boy Patrick!" Again, it was a suggestive command, not a question.
"Yes...."
"Very good, boy. One, two, three, four, FIVE. Well, that's my allotted half hour, Patrick. Oh, I forgot, you do not like the name Patrick...."
"Patrick is just fine, Master, er, I mean, Doctor," Patrick said with a confused look on his face.
"Nonetheless, thank you for your time. I guess we will not be seeing one another again...."
"To the contrary, Doctor, I truly desire to continue our discussion. How about tonight, at your place?"
"Tonight, my place, I don't know....""You're not leading me on, are you, Patrick?"
"No, not at all. Here, please take my Rolex watch as a token of my interest in seeing you again, Doctor."
"Your Rolex? Well, if you insist..."
"Yes, I insist. Until tonight, Doctor. I'll call my lawyers and arrange for someone to come with me."
"No! No lawyers are necessary!"
"But I will need someone to give me advice..."
Howe made use of Patrick's susceptibility to his suggestions even when conscious.
"Lawyers are a bad idea. I won't need one, and when you think about it, you do not need one to come with you, do you?"
After a brief silence, Howe repeated, "You do not need a lawyer to come with you, do you?"
"No, I do not need a lawyer to come with me."
"But you need an ally, someone to give you advice, won't you?"
"Yes."
"I would like you to bring Miller with you, just you and Miller."
"But Miller is only a salesman."
"Yes, but your best salesman, your best, your best. Who better to bring than your best, don't you agree, Patrick?"
"Yes, best to bring my best."
"Michael is your best."
"Michael is my best."
"You shall bring Michael!"
"I shall bring Michael!"
"And you shall swear him to secrecy. No one must know, not even your father. He will be against it because it is your idea. Do you understand?"
"Yes, only Miller, secrecy, no one must know, not even my father."
"He is jealous of you."
"He is jealous of me."
"Good boy. You have pleased me!"
Howe chuckled to himself as a wet spot appeared in Patrick's crotch.
"Now, give me the token of your interest in continuing our discussions!" Until tonight, Patrick, my boy," Glenn said as Patrick took the watch off his wrist and handed it to the sexy male who stood before him.
Something about the way Glenn said "...boy..." caused Patrick's cock to twitch.
To be continued... Suggestions and comments welcomed. | 1 |
5,079 | Dungeon of Desire | "How can I...?" Dick hesitated to broach the question. It implied that they were there for impure purposes. Perhaps they might have inspected the dungeon and then simply left, to play in bed, perhaps, the dungeon just a curiosity. But held obscenely by his erect member, Dick could no longer entertain that fantasy. He needed and wanted now. His own captivity made him harder and hungrier. "How can I fuck?" Dick asked bluntly. "How can I get off? I came here to have fun and to fuck, not to be stuck in some wall!" Dick yanked himself back, slamming his fists into the plywood. But the board barely trembled. Dick, on the other hand, grunted painfully as his cock found it absolutely could not withdraw. Jennifer squealed. She watched as the prongs held Dick firm, pressing and digging into his fleshy column, even making it stretch out a little, as he tried to draw his hips back. And the rings, the awful rings, held his cock in a toothsome grip.
"My, my, such dirty thoughts for a clean-cut Citadel graduate," Katy tsked. She patted his buttocks. "Well, don't worry, Officer Dick, I'll see that you're made to be good. We have whips here for just such a purpose. And paddles, and crops. I'll let you pick your poison in a minute."
Katy turned and slipped, liquid-like, over to Kelly. She was upon her before she had time to think. Kelly was still too busy staring at her powerful boyfriend, his Herculean body made utterly captive by a few well-placed rings around his penis. Katy lifted Kelly's bottom with her palm, making her straighten a little. She cupped both Kelly's large breasts with her other hand and did her best to gather her bosoms and aim her nipples into the holes. Jennifer waited, with bated breath, on the other side.
"Get them in, dear. Time to have the tips of your breasts milked," Katy said quietly, certainly, not giving Kelly any chance to argue. She must have done this trick before because, despite Kelly's ample bosom and the smallness of her palm, she managed to squeeze and direct the tips of her breasts into the small, waiting holes. Kelly felt her nipples slide within the mouth-like openings. Katy pressed a palm hard against her back. Kelly's chin bumped the wall and then her head lofted back. Her breasts pressed themselves to the plywood. And, within the holes now, she felt her stiff nipples suddenly captured. Jennifer screwed the rings down. They were much smaller than the rings which held Dick. Their greased bodies of steel closed on Kelly's nipples and she felt little prongs touch and tip their way into the flesh of her teats.
And she knew. Hearing Jennifer giggle, she felt the awful truth. The prongs, pressing into her skin just behind the very tip of each of her nipples, left the actual ends of her nipples looking like little mouths gasping for air. She felt a tongue-flick. Jennifer was licking her nipples! Just the mouthing tips, where a baby might draw milk. She tasted each provoked nipple tip tentatively. Then she licked again. Kelly felt like a mother, offering herself to her child.
But she didn't want to be like this. It was so awful, having her nipples held, the prongs distorting the ends of her nipples and Jennifer tasting them like they were little rosebuds that needed suckling to open.
"No!" she gasped. Katy only laughed. Jennifer, behind the board, laughed. And then the worst happened. The little imp who had wet Kelly's breasts with her tongue flipped a switch. Kelly didn't hear the switch get flipped but she felt the result. A small electric current flowed through the rings and the prongs that held her and it shocked her nipples.
She screamed. Dick cried out like a warlock made captive in Hell. The current subsided.
"There, that should keep you both on your best behavior," Katy laughed. Jennifer giggled and wanted to shock them again but Katy forbid it. "Only if I say so, dear Jennifer. I want to use it as a method of control for now. I still have to chain them both up!"
Katy lifted Kelly's arms. She did not resist. She could not. She was still too busy gasping from the shock little Jennifer, now definitely her former friend, had given her. Katy raised both her arms and then pinned them together with only one of her hands. She gripped her lightly, like a butterfly, knowing she dared not resist. Then she slipped a padded leather cuff down over each of her hands. Kelly's fingers struggled and tried to resist the descent of each cuff, but she only fought with half her strength, not wanting to get in trouble, and she did not move her wrists.
Jennifer closed each cuff over Kelly's wrists. She was clasped tight within the padded leather. The cuffs were connected to each other by a very short chain. It was like wearing handcuffs. The big chain from which the cuffs descended down from the ceiling had a hook in it. It permitted the chain to be drawn down but kept it from sliding back up. Once secured, Kelly was left to hang. Her nipples were caught and her wrists were held high over her head. She glanced fearfully at Katy. She only smiled. She kissed her cheek. She licked her earlobe.
"You are so precious. I'll have fun torturing you," she said. "Now let's get these little legs of yours apart. I want to have complete access to you, my dear. You're too lovely not to penetrate in every available place!" She pushed apart Kelly's knees. Kelly felt them slide across the pink beach towel and knew she'd rather be lying on the towel, out in the air, under the sun, even if it meant getting burned all over. For here, only some places of her stood to get burnt, and she knew where they lay on her body. Her huddling asscheeks, perhaps the slope of her soft back and her nervous, well-formed thighs. Perhaps, wickedly, a whip curling around to tease her as it struck against her, upon her belly or her sloping breasts.
Katy clamped the ends of a spreader bar within Kelly's opened thighs. She imprisoned her right above her knees. Kelly felt utterly open, her tight cunny hanging down, offering itself in a futile gesture of sacrifice. Her pinhole bottomhole felt its hidden place between the cheeks of her butt exposed to the light and the air.
Whereas Dick, obviously, was held with his hips slammed up against the wall, Kelly was held to the wall by her bosoms. Her bottom hung free. Her belly had no contact with the wall. She was like a bitch offering her bottom to the male. Katy encouraged her to dip her back more and show more of her heinie and her spread ass to her. She flicked a finger along the lips of Kelly's cunny, making her shudder. She separated her hair so that it fell away from her back and in front of her, leaving her backside and back completely exposed.
"I'm going to gag you," Katy said to Kelly. She did not say why. She called to Jennifer, who stood singing a little song behind the plywood, admiring Dick and playing her fingers along his trapped penis. "Bring me a gag for Kelly," Katy told Jennifer. The girl went to a shelf and took down a strip of rawhide. She brought it to her Mistress and Katy opened Kelly's lips and put the rawhide into her mouth. It tasted something like beef jerky, and she pushed it deep into her mouth so that she could not clench her teeth together. Kelly felt her tongue jammed back and knew she would be making no small talk anytime soon. The polite conversation they had enjoyed at their tea party was over.
Satisfied that Kelly was completely hers, that she could do whatever she wished with her, Katy stood admiring her for a moment. Like a woman does, jealously. Her fingers touched her and she finally used both hands to press at and hold the trembling cheeks of Kelly's bottom. She seemed in awe of her heinie. "You have such a precious little bottom," Katy told Kelly, a touch of envy in her words. "It's so white and resilient."Irresistible, really. I'm going to put some weals on it for you. You'll feel very proud when you can show Sauron how you've suffered for him. They'll be trophies, really, your little weals. You can bend over for him and lift your skirt and say, 'Here, Sauron, this is my gift to you. I did this to show you that even though I'm naughty sometimes and make you angry, I do still love you. Here's proof! I had myself punished just so I could be your beloved again, faithful and true, guiltless and ever so loving."
Jennifer, meanwhile, so that our punishment would not be needlessly delayed, had put herself in charge of trussing up Dick's limbs. She was not tall enough to simply raise up his arms. She had to mount the bench and stand there, child-like, beside him. With her bottom quivering behind her, still showing the marks of her own punishment, she lofted up Dick's arms, one by one. They were big and heavy and muscled, and he did not help her. He made her lift his arm all by herself. She sounded like she was lifting a tree trunk, I thought, as she gasped out grunts in doing her work.
A veritable Junior Amazon, Jennifer finally managed to get both Dick's arms uplifted and belted into a pair of overhanging cuffs. Unlike my wrists, which were held submissively together, connected by a short handcuff-like chain, Dick's wrists were spread far apart. He looked like Samson holding up the roof of the king's palace. And, when Jennifer got his legs apart, and fixed into a spreader bar, one might have thought he was the Pillars of Hercules. I wanted to sail a little boat between his legs and look up and admire his manly balls.
We were roped up at last, bound and gagged and caught by our most private parts, like sails affixed to the mast and the yardarms, ready to take on the winds of the open sea. I looked at Dick. He glanced over at me. We were both gagged, but I somehow communicated, I thought, to him that I loved him and loved that he'd come with me to Sauron's. His eyes were glazed. It was, absent Sauron, a man's dream come true. Three lovely young females, all scurrying around him as if he were king, yet playing tricks on him at the same time. There was no doubt that he was well loved, even as they contemplated torturing him. He had a fine body and plenty of muscles, and he was an Officer to boot, fresh from the Citadel, trained in all the ways of a Southern gentleman. And he was theirs! Girls, no matter how pretty they are, always stand in awe of a truly fine man and wet themselves over him. Now they had one all to themselves, to play with and tease as much as they pleased. Even as she'd put his arms up into the cuffs, Jennifer had openly admired them. And as she'd spread his legs, she'd admired him even more.
Katy mused over the implements on the wall and chose a slim, whippy riding crop. I shivered. It would sting and weal me if she chose to use it at its full potential, swinging it hard. She walked behind myself and my lover. She snapped her wrist. The whip ricocheted through the air, making me tremble. My nipples winced in their clamps. Dick flinched, giving his penis an unwanted jerk that caused the tongs to dig into his organ.
Katy seemed to want to start with me. After all, she had only one crop. She slipped close to me and stroked my waist and kissed my face. "Now, darling, I just want you to concentrate on the sensations of your body, both the good and the bad," she purred. She kissed me again. "I must awaken you in all your aspects." Then she stepped back behind me. I heard her feet prance as she leapt in toward me and gave herself a practice swing. Then she withdrew again and, coming forward once more, she let fly her wrist.
SWWWICK! I yelped as her crop zinged into my flesh...I need a (discount) carpet cleaner!
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5,084 | The Romantic | "I love you!"
The girl's squeal of adoration cut through the screaming applause of the audience. Richard smiled at the sound and took one more quick bow before starting down the cluttered backstage path. The mass of voices followed him in thundering echoes as he strode quickly past the lines of congratulating hands to reach the limo parked outside. Inside, Richard leaned back, breathing deeply. His manager handed him a drink.
"Fantastic," said Stephen, nodding rapidly. "Couldn't go much better than that." Richard downed the glass of bourbon.
"Thanks," he said, wiping his mouth on his white satin sleeve. He picked up a pack of Camels and tore away the cellophane. "Beautiful audience. Not like Sacramento." He smacked the package against his left palm and ripped at the silver folds. Richard's hands trembled slightly as he worked his way inside. "It's so much easier to sing with such pretty girls all around." He flipped a cigarette out of the tight bundle and stuck it on his lip. Stephen thrust a flame beneath the tip. "Thanks," mumbled Richard, taking a deep hit of the dry smoke.
"Preston wanted me to ask you to drop by the Stardust. He's having a..."
"No," said Richard.
"I told him you were beat, but he wanted...."
"No," said Richard again. "I'm going back to my room and get some sleep. My nerves are edgy."
"I know, I know," said his manager, trying to console. "Look, Angelica, one of the company's promotion people told me that her niece is dying to meet you. I suggested, well, she might...."
"Yeah," said Richard, closing his eyes. "Send her around."
Twenty minutes later, his hotel room door closed with a satisfying click, and Richard drooped slightly, finally freed. He walked over to the bed, sat down and took off his shoes. Picking up the phone, he punched the numbers his manager had written down.
"Stephen? Looks good. Is she coming? Great. Have them hold my calls. Yeah, I'll let you know. Not before ten." Richard sat the receiver back in its cradle and stepped over to the window.
The city stretched out in black glittering motion below. Even at midnight, the lights of transit poured red and yellow in lean streams. Richard sighed, imagining a room, so far away, where he could really rest; the chair, his chair, molded by evenings to his weary form; the piano, scarred and perpetually drifting from tune; the smile of a woman who loved him for more than vocal intonations. Richard looked down, and sighed again. The pack of Camels appeared in his hand. He lit another cigarette and poured himself a glass of champagne. A knock came through the door.
"It's Terri," a young voice spoke. "Stephen sent me."
Richard opened the chained door cautiously. A girl of nineteen, maybe twenty, stood in the hallway, smiling broadly, wringing her hands. In a decisive instant, Richard looked her over critically. She had pale brown hair, almost blonde, probably a touch of color to lighten it, curls added by heat in looping rings past her shoulders. Her eyes were green, probably colored contacts masking ordinary brown eyes. She had a smooth, creamy complexion, quite nice, well painted to increase her allure, but her lips were perhaps a touch too thin. Her frame was medium, not a small girl, but not big either. Richard smiled. Her breasts looked firm under the ruffles of her silky black blouse, not inflated but substantial. A slight tummy, delightfully feminine, could be seen where the blouse met her skirt. Lean legs encased in dark silk emerged from beneath the hem of black leather. Richard wished for a fleeting moment she would turn around, but at the same time reached up to unchain the door. Terri would do.
"Come in," he said smoothly. "Come in."
The girl seemed frozen as she suddenly faced her idol, but with a touch of his hand, she moved stiffly through his door. Her green eyes fixed firmly on him, a stare so hard that Richard felt compelled to turn away, walking ahead of her into the room.
"Make yourself comfortable," he said. "Can I get you a glass of champagne?"
"Wow," the young woman muttered, looking around at the plush setting of the suite. "Sure," she said. Richard poured her a glass and refilled his own. He handed her the crystal flute and touched his to hers with a gentle tink.
"Nice to meet you, Terri, did you say?"
"Terri," she said, gulping down a swig of the sparkling wine. The alcohol seemed to calm her at once. "You were great."
"You saw the show?" he asked, flattered.
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything," Terri began to bubble with enthusiasm, having touched a favorite subject. "I'll be there tomorrow night, too. I saw your show in August, too. You are so great."
Richard gestured for her to sit beside him on the bed. Terri sat down with a flop, spilling a splash of champagne over her hand. "Oh," she squealed. Richard took gently ahold of her wrist and kissed the wine from her pale fingers. "Ooh," said Terri, utterly delighted by the singer's attentive gesture.
"I thought it went well," he said quietly.
"You were fantastic. I wanted you to sing 'Meadows' so badly and when you did, I thought I was going to faint, I got so excited. And then you sang, 'In Twilight,' and that was incredible because I never heard you sing that one and I've always wanted to hear you, it was my favorite album for so many years, until 'Songs of Love' came out, and then I wanted...."
"Terri," Richard interrupted her babbling praise. "I'm flattered, but all day long people talk to me about my songs, and I'd really just like to talk about other things. I'm a person, too."
"Oh," said Terri, blushing and thoughtful. "I didn't mean to act like a crazed fan or something." She turned away, frowning. Richard glimpsed the swell of white bosom as her blouse sagged away.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the slow rise and fall of her tantalizing bit of chest.
"Yes," she said shyly.
"I'm sorry," he said. "We don't have to talk about that, if you don't want to. But I don't get to know people anymore, not really, and well, I'm a romantic. I like to hear people talk about love." Terri looked into his dark eyes, touched.
"I understand," she said.
"Do you love him?" he asked.
"Yes," she said strongly, "very much. Just madly."
"Is he handsome?"
"Oh, yes. I mean, he's just a guy, but I like the way he looks." Terri stumbled over her words.
"He's lucky," said Richard, bravely. "I envy him."
"Jack?" Terri laughed. "But he's just a... I mean... You've got everything!"
"When I was a younger man, maybe Jack's age, I had everything. I had a girl who loved me dearly, and the whole world before me. That was when my first album came out."
"Dark Nights."
"I envy him, because he has you. When I signed my contracts, they gave me a king's ransom, but they never told me what it would cost."
"Oh, Richard." Terri's young voice rippled with pathos.
"She married another man, and I've never seen her since."
"That is so sad."
"I envy the love you have for Jack. I would trade all of this, just to feel that love again." Richard turned his face away, hiding the burst of emotion that threatened to erupt. Terri put her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she said. "But we all love you, you sing so beautifully, and well, I love you."
"Do you?"
"Yes. Very much."
"It's not the same."
"Still," said Terri, thoughtfully, "it's something." Richard turned at once and kissed the girl. She melted, overwhelmed by the touch of his lips, and as his arms wrapped around her, she gave herself away. Strong hands caressed her warm body as his kiss grew moist and feverish. Terri threw her arms around the singer made man.
"Oh, God," she moaned, "I love you."
They rolled over the bed, kissing madly. Pulling her blouse from the skirt, he found her breasts beneath. She yanked the silk over her head and unclasped her brassiere. He suckled her stiffened nipples, sending shivers down her spine. Terri felt the hard throb of his manhood pressed against her thigh.
"Fuck me, Richard," she said, letting the words roll wickedly past her lips, savoring the thought as his hands roamed down to lift her leather skirt and squeeze her full behind. "I'll love you, Richard. I'll love you." Terri licked her lips. "Fuck me, Richard."
He knelt between her spread long legs and looked into the sultry gaze of her eyes. Terri shuddered in delight. Richard slipped his strong hands down the length of her lean thighs, indulged himself in a moment's anticipation.Taking hold of her white lace panties and with a sudden jerk, he tore the fragile fabric from her waist.
"Oh my God," moaned Terri. Richard lifted the shredded panties to his face and smiled as he tossed them away. Leaning down, he thrust his face into Terri's dripping snatch, pushing his maestro's tongue between the scarlet lips, framed in dark curls, into the swampy pit of her young cunt. "Ooh," she whimpered, and as he lapped the hot froth, he wordlessly sang her favorite song. She grasped his hair and pulled him closer. He tickled her hard clit.
Leaping forward as the shudders overcame her, Richard impaled his burning cock into Terri's hole, and thrusting with a wild mambo beat, he soaked her womb in his mad lust. He looked into her subdued eyes as the ecstasy rippled through him, filling her love with adoration.
Spent, Richard collapsed beside her on the bed, breathing deeply. Terri leaned over to suck the scent from his receding prick. He teased her hair with gentle fingers, encouraging her devotions, falling into quiet lethargy. She moved up close beside him and pressed her lips to his. Richard kissed her, sweetly.
"Do you really love me?" he asked.
"Yes, Richard," Terri said. "I love you."
"I mean really," he said, his voice falling dim. "Really?"
"More than you will ever know."
"I mean, if I come back, when the tour's over in June, if I come back, you'd go away with me?"
"Richard!" said Terri sharply. "Don't tease me like that."
"I'm not," he said, sitting up. "I'll come back in June."
"Yes," she said lovingly. "I'd do anything for you."
"You'll have to go," he said. "I have to sleep, and with you here I won't." Terri giggled and blushed. Richard continued. "Tomorrow's full of press and meetings and appearances, and then there's the show to do and if I don't sleep, it will kill me."
"I understand," said Terri, reaching for her blouse.
"Here's some paper," he said, taking a pad from the hotel table. "Write your name and address and number down for me. I'll be in touch."
Terri stepped over to the table and Richard watched contentedly as the naked girl scribbled, admiring the roundness of her creamy bottom over the dark furrow of her cunt, still dripping with their juices. She handed him the pad, smiling lasciviously and pulled her skirt down.
Richard kissed her again, deeply, and led her to the door.
"I love you," she said, blowing him a kiss as the door closed.
"Goodbye, Terri," he replied.
Walking over to his bag, Richard brought out a large scrapbook. Flipping through the pages, he came to a blank page, three quarters of the way through. Carefully, he taped Terri's note onto the page.
"She was sweet," he thought, turning the page back. Melissa. Janet. Francie. Elizabeth. "One of the best," he said.
Richard replaced the scrapbook in his bag and picked up the phone, punching the numbers deftly.
"Stephen? Yeah. Fabulous. You have exquisite taste. Did Mary call? I had a feeling. No, I'll tell her. Listen, would you send Terri some flowers? Yeah, she was sweet. Have them say 'dream of me, love Richard'. It's the least I can do. No, she already has tickets. All right. Good night."
Richard pressed down the button in the cradle, paused and then lifted his finger to arouse another dial tone. He punched a longer set of numbers familiarly.
"Mary? Did I wake you? Yeah. Good show, I think. I tried to sleep, but I kept thinking of you. I don't know, just a feeling. We must be in tune or something. Stephen says I'll be home on the third for the week, but we have to spend the sixth and seventh at some resort. I know. I'm sorry. Maybe you could... I know. You know I will. I've got to get some sleep, but tell me again. I love you, too."
Richard hung up the phone and stopped to stare out the window. A plane roared overhead, tiny lights flashing, headed far away. He lit another cigarette, letting the heat fill his tired lungs. "So far away," he muttered. Looking down, Richard's heart sank in anticipation of another dark night, alone. | 1 |
5,108 | The Legend 7 - The Icon | "She's here!" The whisper spread around the village like wildfire. The goddess of plenty had arrived. Their next harvest would be a bountiful one. The gods would take care of it. It has been ordained.
A rhythmic chant went up, while the villagers dropped to their knees in supplication as the young woman, in the flowing white robe, walked gracefully by. Flanked by her bodyguards, and some say, her tormentors. She stepped daintily through the sucking mud that succeeded the three-day rainstorm, her sandals barely denting the surface, so light was she.
The headman, who alone could look her in the eye, stepped forward as the rest of the village cringed dutifully. Only a few may look a goddess in the eye. Even a fallen one like this. In any event, they couldn't have looked into her eyes, which she kept shamefully downcast.
The headman grunted and paid the bountiful tribute of the glittering stones to the temple followers that surrounded her. That, and the act that was to follow, would ensure that the forest would yield up its bounteous fruits and the tribe would survive another year.
It was just. It was proclaimed. It was the legend. It was foretold around many a campfire, while the forest rustled in the darkness.
It was said she was the daughter of the most high god. The mightiest god of all. And she had displeased him, as daughters were wont to do. So he gave her a task. A sacred mission to fulfill. She was to be the keeper of the garden, mother earth herself. And it was thus that she could change her shape, her hair, her looks. A goddess, taking many forms, as is her birthright. And her perpetual youth, a testimony to her immortality. Every year she was young, and every year she looked different. And of course, she was always beautiful. She was a goddess, after all, and you didn't, couldn't, get ugly goddesses. It was unnatural.
The headman took her hand. Her dainty fingers lost in the horny grip of his paw. He tugged her gently towards his hut. She hesitated. But a prod with the stick from one of her guardians urged her on her way. Destiny awaited inside the smoky depths of the foul-smelling hut.
The villagers gathered around as the cloths were dropped, decorously shielding the scene inside. She was trembling as the Headman unclasped the hasp on her robe, which fell away to reveal her perfect body to his lustful eyes.
Her newest manifestation was ripe. 'It surely would be a bounteous harvest,' he thought as his manhood tried to assert itself through its protective gourd. He tossed the gourd aside to reveal his power, which stood proudly high. She whimpered. Even goddesses were impressed with its size.
He led her, resisting, to his sleeping mat. He sat down and pulled her towards him. She fell across him, and he felt, for the first time, her nubile new body. He pushed her flat onto the sleeping mat and insinuated his body between her thighs.
She tried, feebly, to push him away. But he knew his duty. His tribe's whole future was at stake. He must consummate the joining of his people and the gods, so he forced her down and open.
He tried to kiss her, but she turned away. He was not dismayed. None of the previous manifestations had wanted to kiss either. He fondled her breasts with one hand as he stroked his manhood with the other. It stood straight and true.
It was time.
He settled between her widespread legs, forcing them wider, as he guided his weapon towards her pit. Earth-bound human, a throwback to the stone-age, entering the pleasure cave of a goddess. His penis entered her, and he heard her gasp, like she did the year before and the years before that. Whatever her new appearance, whether it be large or small, she always gasped as he asserted his maleness within her.
This year she was tight. As if she had been hardly used, although he knew the other tribes also made use of her services, as she traipsed the faint trails along the bank of the mighty river. He had to push hard, and he saw crystals of tears pooling in her eyes. This year he really was appeasing the gods, especially the most high. He grunted in happiness and bliss. The gods were good.
His mighty lunges forced him deep, widening her ready for the offering of his seed. Creating a seedbed just as his motive offering was urging her to grant them the boon of an overflowing gathering of the fruits of the forest.
Faster and faster.
Deeper and deeper.
Harder and harder.
While she bucked and moaned and cried.
His back arched. His fingers became talons on her milky breasts as he felt his offering gathering mightily within him. The release, when it came, was like the breaching of a powerful dam unleashing the flood of his juices within her.
She cried out as she felt him cum.
The natives outside dropped to the floor as they heard the strange, alien language from within the hut. Screamed out. It was the language of the gods, lighter in its timbre and with a softer sibilance than the previous year's manifestation. As if it were a different language.
The villagers whispered in awe at the volume of her cries. Truly it would be a plenteous harvest as her lamentations carried into the forest. The headman had worked his miracle well.
Inside the hut, Marie Clare, the eighteen-year-old, newly kidnapped daughter of a French Businessman, screamed out in horror as she felt the sudden warmth inside her unprotected womb. | 1 |
5,115 | The Partners | "So, what say we have a little fun?" asked Mitch.
"What do you mean?" asked Linda Draybeck.
"Well, Linda, the sky's the limit. Unless you're shy. I don't think Ben here is shy though. Are you, Ben?"
"I'm in pig heaven, Mitch, my boy," answered the older man. "You got anything to drink here, by the way?"
"Sure. Liquor cabinet's by the window. Help yourself."
Henderson nodded and moved to the credenza that housed Mitch's liquor. He spotted an opened bottle of Grand Marnier and grabbed it and a glass. "Let's go have ourselves a party," said Henderson whose pants were already bulging as he grabbed Draybeck by the shoulder and led her toward the basement.
Mitch called to them as they opened the door to the cellar. "Here, take these. It's a little cool down there." He handed them each robes and took his own robe as well. The three of them then proceeded down the stairs to the basement.
"Let me go first," said Mitch who was already undressing and donning the robe. "I'll get things set up while you two get yourselves ready." They nodded in agreement to him.
He sauntered over to the tied girl whose eyes were still closed and cleared his throat to announce his return. "Hello, sunshine," he said. "Guess what, we've got company! And guess what again, they're friends of yours. Let me introduce you to my new partners." He waved his hands with a flourish toward the stairs and added, "Ben, Linda, I believe you know Wendy." She craned her neck to see who Mitch was referring to and what little color that remained in her face drained when she saw Henderson and Draybeck walking toward her and wearing robes similar to the one Mitch was wearing.
"Hello, Ms. King," said Henderson with a sneer as he downed some more of the orange-flavored liquor. "May I go first?" he asked Mitch and Draybeck.
Draybeck held up her hand in protest. "Ladies first, if you don't mind."
Henderson looked dejected, but Mitch consoled him. "Don't worry, Ben," answered Mitch. "There's plenty of time for all of us. You're not going anywhere, are you sweet thing?" he said with a nod toward the struggling girl.
Draybeck pursed her lips and looked at Wendy's bound figure. Then, she walked around the desk to which the girl was tied and rummaged through its drawers until she found what she was looking for -- a pair of small binder clips. Similar to clothes pins in their use, Draybeck thought they would do quite nicely for what she had in mind. Next, she rifled through Mitch's work bench where she found some kite string.
She returned to the desk and held the two black binder clips before Wendy's eyes. "Your tits are too small to tie but your nipples look oh so fine, Ms. King. Let's dress them up a bit." Wendy's eyes opened wide in horror and she shook her head in angry protest. She screamed into her gag but her mouth was packed so tightly with her panties that no sound came forth. Slowly and deliberately, Draybeck grasped each of Wendy's nipples and affixed a binder clip to them. She smiled as she saw tears appear in the corner of the captive girl's eyes.
"You'll get used to it, dear," she said as she looped a length of kite string through each of the binder clips. When she was through and certain that the strings were long enough for her purposes, she gave each a tug. This had the effect of pulling the tightly clamped binder clips upward. Wendy uttered a muffled scream as she arched her back in an effort to ease the tension and she feared her nipples would be torn from her breasts. "Perfect," announced Draybeck. "And that's what I'm going to do if you fail to do exactly as you're told."
Draybeck turned to Mitch. "Can I remove the gag?"
"Sure, there's no neighbors nearby and even if there were, it's an old house with thick walls. No one will hear her. Go ahead."
Draybeck smiled again and began to remove the gray duct tape that Mitch had placed over Wendy's mouth earlier. She then snaked a finger in Wendy's mouth and extracted the panties. Holding them up with a look of absolute disdain, she wiped them on Wendy's face and tossed them aside. She then disrobed to reveal a nice trim body with firm breasts. "Not bad for a girl of 42," she said to no one in particular. Draybeck, Mitch thought as he saw the female partner clad only in her gray panties, was not that unattractive after all. She stepped out of her panties and placed them on the desk. Wendy was licking her lips to relieve the dryness that filled her mouth.
Draybeck meanwhile climbed on top of the desk, still holding the strings that were connected to the binder clips attached to Wendy's now erect and reddened nipples. "Okay, bitch, here's the plan," Draybeck began to explain, "I didn't remove your gag because I want conversation. I removed it because you wouldn't be able to lick my pussy if you were still sucking on your filthy panties. So, start licking." Draybeck eased her crotch over Wendy's face and positioned herself so the girl's mouth could perform its assigned task.
Wendy shrieked, "No! No! Uuughh," and turned her head to escape Draybeck's plush mound.
Draybeck shrugged and gave the strings a jerk. Wendy howled in pain. "If you don't start licking me good, I'm going to rip those nipples right off those tits. Start licking!" With no alternative, Wendy began to lick the older woman's crotch. Draybeck pressed herself hard against the girl's mouth and felt her juices begin to flow. Mitch and Henderson watched and smiled as they observed their prisoner working Draybeck's pussy and heard Draybeck's moans of pleasure. Draybeck's juices flowed into Wendy's mouth and all over her face. The girl would occasionally give a yelp of pain as Draybeck sometimes pulled on the strings for no apparent reason. After about fifteen minutes, Draybeck let go of the strings and climbed off the girl's face.
Wendy began crying again but her captors remained unphased as they watched her tears mix with the juices Draybeck had deposited on the bound girl's face. "Oh, here," said Draybeck with a hint of exasperation. "Let me clean you up a little." Draybeck picked up her own panties and ran it over Wendy's face, wiping up the girl's tears and her own fluids.
Wendy looked up at Draybeck and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, Draybeck shoved her own panties into Wendy's mouth. "Suck on those for a while, whore." She put a few pieces of the duct tape over the girl's mouth to prevent her from spitting her new gag out. Mitch and Henderson laughed as they watched Wendy protest. It had been bad enough having her own soiled panties packed in her mouth, but having Draybeck's panties used as a gag was utterly repulsive.
"My turn," announced Henderson, who could barely contain himself. He removed the bathrobe to reveal an ugly, overweight body covered with hair. Wendy was sickened at the thought of Henderson invading her and she stared in muted horror at Henderson's cock which was brimming with anticipation. "Can we flip her over on her belly when I'm ready?" he asked.
"Ben, old friend, you can have her hanging upside down if that's your pleasure," Mitch answered.
The girl's eyes bulged with fear and she swung her head back and forth in an effort to shut out the inevitable. Henderson smiled and bent over to whisper in her ear. "You little, blackmailing whore. You wanted to be paid. Well, here's your first installment."With that, he removed the binder clips from her nipples and poured the contents of his glass of Grand Marnier on the captive girl, climbed on top of her, and began to lick the sticky liqueur from her body. He licked her face, her arms, her tits, and her legs. All the while, his hairy body rubbed against the frightened girl, who could do nothing to repel him. She looked to Mitch and Draybeck for help, but saw that their attention was riveted to Henderson and his licking frenzy.
When he was done, he looked to Mitch and said, "Help me flip the little bitch over. I want to check her out from the rear."
Mitch untied her hands while Henderson undid the ropes that bound her legs. Mitch flipped her over and retied the ropes to the desk's legs, but Henderson left her legs free from the cords. Instead, he grabbed her by her ankles and pulled himself forward until his ready shaft was touching her. "I'm going to take her from behind...doggie style," he announced as he plunged his member inside the girl, who was on her hands and knees. In and out it went. She felt Henderson's coffee breath on her neck and thought she would be sick as he continued his merciless assault of her vagina.
"Mitch, let's double team her," said Henderson unexpectedly.
Mitch smiled and nodded. He reached for her mouth, undid the tape, and removed the gag. Then, he had another idea. He took Draybeck's panties and placed them over Wendy's face so that her nose was stuck in the crotch of the panties, but her mouth was free for Mitch's pleasure. Draybeck and Henderson both applauded Mitch's creativity as he climbed on the desk and forced his cock back into her mouth.
Henderson and Mitch quickly fell into a rhythmic pattern as they each pumped their dicks in opposite ends of the girl. "Get ready, Mitch!" yelled Henderson after a few minutes. "I'm going to cum!"
Mitch said to his partner, "Just give me the word."
"On three," replied Henderson. "One...two...NOW!"
Simultaneously, they each let loose, filling her orifices with their salty semen. She felt Henderson's cum dribble down her leg as Mitch's poured down her throat since he would not remove his dick to allow her to spit out his seed. Finally, he removed his cock from her mouth.
The helpless girl looked at her captors and meekly said, "What now?"
Draybeck approached and answered her. "Well, bitch, there are still three other partners in the firm. Plus, there are associates and support staff bonuses to consider." Henderson snickered.
Mitch came up to her and held her face in his hands. "Just think, Wendy, you wanted so badly to be made a partner. Now you're being made by all the partners."
He kissed her face and said to his new partners, "Who's ready for more?"
THE END | 4 |
5,116 | The Legalities of Sex - Part 2 | "Come in!"
She entered and stood before his desk. She had on a more demure outfit today, just jeans and a sweatshirt. She thought to herself, wait until he saw what was underneath!
But at first it was strictly business.
"I've looked at your paper. It is good in places but obviously a rush job."
He took the time to explain what he would have expected of a really good assignment, knowing as he did so that this delay was just building the sexual tension between them. Oh, when would he shut up and take her into his arms again!
Then he put the paper aside, and without getting out of his chair, said, "Come here."
It was spoken quietly, but it was an order. She gladly obeyed, coming around the desk to stand before him.
This time he was going to tease, to make her beg before he satisfied her. He idly ran his hand over her baggy sweater, going up her hard stomach and circling her high-thrust breasts. Something felt rough and lacey under there, and he made it drag back and forth over her nipples.
Then he unzipped the fly of her jeans, poking one finger into the metal-lined aperture. Again, the feeling of rough lace, but loose, and his finger could push under the edge to feel soft, downy pubic hair on her mound. She held her breath for a moment as she enjoyed his touch upon her cunt.
"Turn around." Again, spoken like an order. She faced away from him, and he reached around, unsnapping her jeans and pulling them... slowly... down past her hips to expose her buttocks.
Surprise! A little something she had borrowed out of her mother's lingerie drawer. A *very* little something. A pink lace g-string that, at the back, was just a narrow strip that disappeared into her butt crack, leaving her buttocks bare. Oh, delicious!
Her jeans got thrust rapidly down to her knees as he got his face up close to her ass, licking her smooth firm butt, kissing it, getting his saliva all over it.
She felt her rear get wet and cold as he spread his saliva over it, but he had brought his hand up between her legs to touch the gusset of the g-string, and now something else was getting hot!
She bent slightly forward so that her pussy lips were now aimed at his face. He tore the pink gusset aside and got down lower, so his tongue could flicker over her delicate sex. She nearly cried out, it was so erotic, so *dirty*, so... so fucking sexy! He must really care for her if he was willing to do that.
He stopped. Oh, no! But it was so he could turn her around and shove the sweatshirt up over her head. Surprise number two! A tiny pink bra to match the g-string. It was too small to cover her breasts properly, and barely hid her nipples. He swept the cups apart with his hands and fastened his lips to the exposed nipples. Her smallish breasts stuck straight out from her chest, almost symmetrical, such was their youthfully elastic ability to hold their shape. The strength of his sucking drew one of them out into a sharp cone, almost hurting her but at the same time feeling so heavenly!
He was like a man possessed now, no more teasing, his original intentions were forgotten as he tried to possess her young body. He suddenly got up and lifted her bodily onto the desk, scattering papers everywhere.
Bending her legs far back from her hips, and opening them as far as her jeans-bound knees would allow, he slathered his tongue over her exposed cunt. With fine downy hairs that made it look almost hairless, it was soon slick and shiny as he thrust his tongue into her virgin pussy and his nose rubbed at her clitoris. Powerful feelings swept through her pelvic region, radiating outwards until she was a gibbering mass of muscular spasms, as there burst within her an orgasm more mind-blowing than anything experienced in her life so far.
She collapsed against the desk, jeans at half-mast and tiny pink bra all twisted around. He stood and unzipped his fly.
"Down on your knees."
She had wondered when he would ask her for this. It was something she had read about, talked to Belinda about, even seen a few pictures about. But she didn't know how she was going to feel when actually face to face with a big, erect penis, one that the owner urgently wanted to have sucked.
She knelt as he had asked, and looked at it with a little anxiety. It looked huge! Angry purplish knob with a tiny slit, and a shaft full of veins. Hairy balls swung below.
She stuck out her tongue and dabbed the end of it delicately, just tasting it at first. Sharp, a bit whiffy, but not too bad. She looked up into his eyes and he nodded, urging her on. Well, if it was going to make him so happy... She kissed it, chastely at first but then turned it into a French kiss that tongued the little slit on the cap of the helmet. He groaned audibly at the heightening sensations, and the sheer anticipation of what he hoped was coming next.
Her lips were wrapped around him now, and a few gentle fuck-thrusts were enough to coax her mouth open wider. Her upturned face looked into his, wide eyes seeking his approval for her first blowjob attempt, approval that he gave by moaning again when she took it deeper and applied suction.
This for him was one of the ultimate power trips. A sweet, beautiful thing like her, who could have almost any man she wanted, on her knees before an aging scroat like him, taking his dick into her mouth and *wanting* him to enjoy it!
She was inexperienced and not providing quite enough stimulation, but he didn't want to correct or criticize her just yet. She was going to be getting plenty of practice. He got her to concentrate on the tip, taking him in a shallow entry that allowed her to swirl her tongue against the underside of his cockhead while he grasped his shaft at the base and jacked off. She was going to get it. She was going to get it all!
Actually, she wondered about that. Whether she would be able to stomach his semen or not. I mean, gross! But it was probably what he wanted. She had learned that much about guys.
She decided to tell him of her decision. She pulled away for a moment, and said "You can come in my mouth if you want. I don't mind!"
Well, he had been planning to anyway, but just hearing her say the words pushed him over the edge. As her mouth encircled him once more, he beat a frenzy upon the base of his penis and in the next moment he was gushing his seed into her pretty little mouth.
She felt herself gagging, almost choking as he filled her up with an acrid taste, a taste unlike anything she had come across before. And there was so much of it! She felt awash, and the thick mucus overflowed onto her chin, forced out by the sheer amount of cock that was stuck into her mouth.
He got tissues, as before, and used them to wipe her chin, then the end of his penis.
"That was good, Veronica. Very good."
She beamed with pride at the compliment. He liked it! And he liked her! And he had done such wonderful things with his tongue on her pussy!
"But you better go. Your parents might wonder."
No they wouldn't.They were used to her going over to Belinda's place after school. But he was right, they mustn't be found out, though it disappointed her that he wanted her to go so soon.
After this, their affair got hot and heavy. They met nearly every day, as often as other commitments would allow. She was addicted to him, and he couldn't resist her adoration.
He would have liked to fuck her, and at times was sorely tempted, but he was already getting his fucks elsewhere, so it was not essential that they do that. The buzz with Veronica was not so much the sex act itself. It was having her so willing to fuck, so willing that simply knowing he only had to ask meant that he didn't need to. It was giving him the biggest thrills of his life. The thrill was knowing that he had her where he wanted her; the fact that she would suck his cock at any time was proof of that. And who would not be contented at having their cock sucked by such a sweet, willing young mouth almost every day?
Okay, it was improper, it was wrong. Technically, he was not in breach of the school rules nor his contract with the school. But morally, he knew he was betraying the trust of the school, the parents, and of Veronica herself, as the day must surely come when he would have to dump her.
Meanwhile, she had been making it obvious to Belinda that she was getting it on hot and heavy with someone. It was coming out in her conversation that she was becoming quite knowledgeable about various sex acts, a knowledge born of personal experience. She wouldn't divulge who with, and Belinda was determined to find out.
In fact, she thought she now had a pretty good idea. Veronica never caught the regular school bus to go home with her anymore. One day, she too stayed back late, and from a distance saw Veronica headed down to the Legal Studies classroom. She had followed and entered the classroom, but found it empty and the office door at the far end closed. Where had that girl disappeared to? Could it be Mr. Wynton that she was learning all this sex stuff from?
But she hadn't actually seen them together, so could prove nothing.
Meanwhile, the two lovebirds' affair was becoming an obsession.
Then, one day, disaster! She was half-naked before him in his office, top and bra off but jeans on, slurping him deeply into her mouth in a way she was becoming quite skilled at, when there was a knock on his office door.
Shit!
They froze, and he held his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence.
They waited, but there was the knock again.
"Mr. Wynton!"
It was Mr. Komett, the Deputy Principal!
"Mr. Wynton, can you open up please!"
It was obvious that Komett knew he was inside.
"Just a minute, Renn."
Veronica was pulling her jumper back on, while he stowed away his dick and kicked her bra out of sight under the desk.
He opened the door. It was obvious to Komett that they had been keeping the door locked, because Phil had to turn the key noisily before it would open.
"Working late, Mr. Wynton?"
"Just going over Veronica's test paper with her."
"Very good." He looked dubious. "I just came to ask if you could move your car. The janitor needs to get the garbage skip out and you are blocking it."
"Oh, sorry! I'll be right down."
Mr. Wynton was flushing red, though Veronica was keeping her cool. Games were definitely over for today, and they parted without another word to each other.
Next day, he left straight after class and went home. He had got a hell of a shock at being seen with Veronica, and Komett must be suspicious by now. As long as he doesn't get proof! Better play things cool for a bit.
Veronica went to the office as usual, and was disappointed to find it locked and nobody answering her knock.
In Legal Studies class over the next few days, she sensed a coolness in his attitude toward her. She felt dread in the pit of her stomach that he no longer cared for her.
She waited near his car, to get him to say something to her, reassure her in some way.
He came, and saw her nearby, as he unlocked his car door.
"Mr. Wynton, don't you want to see me anymore?"
"Yes, Veronica, I do. Very badly. But we need to lay low for a while. I think we better not see each other for a bit."
It was like a blow to her stomach. She could see the sense in what he said, but how would she manage without his attention, his touches, his making her feel wanted, needed? It would be purgatory to see him each day but be unable to have any sweet moments together.
And why had they only ever met in his office? He never took her to his home, never wanted to be near her in public, he never wanted her to stay and chat after he had finished wiping his semen from her chin. I mean, were we friends, or not?
Belinda began to hear some adverse comments from Veronica about the man who had been educating her in pleasures of the flesh. The knight-in-shining-armor was sounding a little tarnished.
"All he seems to want is sex! I mean, he's so intelligent, so smart, I want to talk about stuff with him! I thought he was my friend, but now I can't even see him! Not even for sex!" Veronica was a soul in torment.
"He sounds sexy," said Belinda, "But he also sounds like a bastard."
"That's it!" replied Veronica. "That describes him exactly! He's a sexy bastard!"
"I've heard of men like that," said Belinda, trying to sound knowledgeable. "The attractive ones are the dangerous ones."
"But you still won't tell me who he is," she continued. "I mean, as a friend, how can I give you advice unless I know all the facts?"
"But it is SOOOO scary, the person, I mean. It's not just any boy. If it ever gets out who I've been seeing, this town will just about explode!"
This was confirming what Belinda already suspected. She took a shot in the dark.
"Is it... Mr. Wynton?"
"Omigosh! How did you know?"
"Just intuition. You didn't think you could stop your closest buddy from figuring out a thing like that, did you?"
"Well, you can't breathe a word, okay?"
"Okay."
After Veronica left to go home, Belinda reached behind the scatter cushions on her bed and brought out the little Sony dictaphone recorder that she had earlier hidden there. Rewinding, she checked if it had come out on the tape. Sure enough, she could hear Veronica clearly saying "how did you know?" in response to her question.
Belinda didn't yet know what she would do with the tape, but it might come in handy for something. She did not approve of teachers who hit on their students.
Mr. Wynton was missing the heady rush of power that he got when Veronica was on her knees before him. And it looked like the hue and cry had died down. After grading her workbook one day, he slipped in a little note. "Meet me at the corner of 10th and Juniper, I'll pick you up at 4:30."
He wanted to see her! And he was going to take her away, to a better spot, to his home maybe! He still wanted to spend time with her!
She was leaning on the fence by the sidewalk when his car pulled up. She hopped in and was about to kiss him on the cheek.
"Don't!" he stopped her. "We mustn't be seen!"
She felt a little hurt that he still wouldn't take the kind of chances she was willingly taking for him. But she was also excited to be with him again. She put her hand on his crotch and gave his prick a squeeze. "No one can see me do that!" she told him gleefully.
A couple of lamp-posts back, Renn Komett tailed them. He had been keeping an eye on Mr. Wynton lately, knowing the legal man was up to something but unable to prove it. Now he had seen her get into Wynton's car! He tried to keep up, but tailing cars is not as easy as it looks in the movies, and he lost them at the next set of traffic lights. Damn! He still didn't have any really hard evidence of impropriety.
Wynton stopped at some parkland outside town, under a thicket of trees. It had been hard to navigate the car properly, because of her toying away at his penis all the while, plus between gear shifts he had kept one hand between her legs on the seat beside him to grope at her sex. Now they were both hot.
Their mouths and hands were all over each other in a flurry. Her skirt was up, her knickers down. He was pawing at her crotch, feeling it get hotter and wetter, softening, opening. His cock was in her hand, throbbing and twitching as she pulled on it. It was close to shooting after almost twenty minutes of fondling. She marveled at his size, his hardness. She felt her own sense of power, that a young kid like her could get him so out-of-control. She wanted him! All of him this time!
She twisted around and got up over him, aggressively pushing him back, reaching down and hitting the "recline" button of the driver's seat so that he was almost prone. She straddled him, head bumping the low car ceiling, still grasping his cock, bringing it to her entrance, rubbing the big purple helmet against her slippery virgin slit.
He could see what she was trying to do, but he still didn't want to penetrate her. He wanted to be able to say truthfully that he hadn't been fucking her. It became a contest, she trying to force her hips downward to impale herself upon him, he holding her up so that his prick was rubbing her folds but not able to slip in between them.
"Fuck me" she begged. "Please fuck me!"
"No, we mustn't."
"But I want to do this!" she almost sobbed.
Too late!The friction of her pussy on his cockhead and the thrill of hearing her begging for him to defile her pushed him over the edge. Big spurts of semen shot up over her spread-out cunt, dribbling over her tender lips and silky inner thighs, falling down onto his trousers, making a mess on them both.
She felt the hot stuff contact her open pussy and was suddenly disappointed and afraid. Disappointed that it was over, that she still had not had all of him. Suddenly afraid that the sperm coating her pussy might make her pregnant.
As always, he thoughtfully brought out tissues to clean her up, then they drove back into town in silence. He dropped her off at her bus route and drove off into the gathering darkness.
Next day brought a visit from Komett. He was blunt and to the point.
"Mr. Wynton, are you having some kind of a relationship with Veronica Drew-Bentley?"
"No, sir. I have been giving her some extra tuition."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Well, Komett had to be happy with that. It is a big deal to question the integrity of a faculty member. Without proof, he would not be able to push it any further than that.
Wynton knew it too and felt safe for the moment. He was familiar with the workings of political scandal and knew that most citizens go into denial when prominent pillars of society get their pricks caught in a jam. Either that, or they blame the woman concerned and make out it is all her fault. He was sure he could ride out any storm on this one.
But he had to tell Veronica that it was over. For a while, anyway. Things were getting too hot for comfort.
She was distraught. He had picked her up in his car again, and they were driving around aimlessly as he kept his eyes on the road and explained to her in a quiet voice that they had to break it off for a while.
She was still sniffling when he finally let her off at her stop. Nothing he could say would satisfy her because the only thing that could satisfy her was his continued friendship and attention.
She headed straight to Belinda for consolation. Belinda was shocked at the emotional state her friend was in. And mad as hell at the man who could do that to her. But why only get mad? Why not also get even?
A week later, Komett again appeared at Wynton's office.
"Mr. Wynton, I must ask you a more direct question this time. Did you at any time have sex with your student, Veronica Drew-Bentley?"
"Absolutely not."
"It is just that, well... we have received information that you did. Not once, but more than once."
"I did not have sex with that student."
"Someone has provided us with evidence."
"Who?"
"Belinda Fripp."
"Any statement from Belinda Fripp can only be hearsay."
"It is not a statement that she has given us. It is a tape."
"A what?"
"An audio cassette recording. Of a conversation she had with Veronica Drew-Bentley."
"I say again: I did not have sex with that student."
"We are of course going to be asking Veronica for her own version of events. And she has a reputation for being a very truthful person..."
The heat was now well and truly directed upon the seat of Wynton's pants. And Komett was steadily turning up the flame.
They can't fire him. No way can they fire him over this! He would just brazen it out.
Maybe if he talked to Veronica, coached her a bit on her story. And what if she insisted on telling the truth? Well, he could make out that she was mentally a bit unhinged. Emotionally-distraught women do not make good witnesses, as a general rule.
Or should he come clean? Confess to what had happened as far as it went, but insist that technically he had done nothing that he could be fired over? A legalistic response based upon "what is sex" would not earn him the undying respect of his colleagues or spouse, but at least he might keep his job. And he really needed this job.
Interesting times lay ahead for Mr. Wynton.
EPILOGUE:
Well, what happened? How did it all turn out?
I can spare you all the tedious procedural details by giving you a short summary, a bit like the ending of that famous movie "All the President's Men" where about five years of legal maneuverings got crammed into the space of three minutes running time. Except that this story's epilogue reads more like the one in that other famous movie, "Animal House".
First of all, Wynton got to keep his job. Veronica told the truth to the school committee, and they were as surprised as anyone to learn that, technically, blowjobs are not sex.
But was it worth it? His marriage now existed in name only. And he soon found that he was no longer effective as a teacher. The sound of snickering always preceded him down the corridors. The more delinquent among his students would completely ignore assignment deadlines, and if brought to task would jokingly ask if a blowjob would be sufficient. He couldn't stand it. He decided to stay only for the length of his current contract, after which he was going to sneak away with his tail between his legs.
Veronica is still receiving counseling after a failed suicide attempt. Needless to say, she and Belinda are no longer friends.
Belinda was a big help to Renn Komett during his efforts to pursue Wynton with a vengeance. Being both of a devious nature, they became close. Nothing could go on in the student body without her informing him about it. One day, she took the initiative and kissed him. They have been on-again-off-again lovers ever since.
Which proves the truth of the saying: Character is defined by the things you do when you think no one else is watching. | 1 |
5,119 | Banana Split | "DG? Deej, honey? Are you awake?"
I slowly opened my eyes. Cindy was crouched over me, her face framed by the waving fronds of a palm tree, the glossy sheaf of her hair brushing softly against my cheek. There are much, much worse sights to wake up to. I was napping, or had been napping, on the warm sands of a remote tropical island. Cindy and I were stranded in paradise, you see.
"What is it, babe? Headhunters? A tiger?"
"I want a coconut."
"So have a coconut."
"I can't find a nice one on the ground. Can you climb up and get me one?"
I sat up with a sigh, and found myself facing a stretch of ocean so blue it should smell like chlorine instead of brine. It wasn't easy working up any sort of indignation in this setting, but I gave it a shot, just for form's sake.
"You want me to risk my neck climbing up into a palm tree like a giant monkey, when there's fruit all around us? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over a kumquat. You could swing a dead cat anywhere on the island and knock down a week's supply of bananas."
She wrinkled her nose in that adorable way that she has. "But I'm thirsty. I've got this wild craving for coconut milk. Come on, you did it yesterday."
This was true. Like a big show-off, I had demonstrated the proper technique for clambering up into the dizzying heights of a coconut palm. My fellow castaways - writers, pleasure seekers, and various hangers-on associated with the esteemed Guild of Internet Erotica Writers - had been duly impressed. They had enjoyed the coconuts I cut down, anyway.
I stood up and stretched, casually surveying the picturesque little inlet we had discovered. Sheltered from the steady pounding of the big Pacific rollers by a crusty wall of coral, shaded from the strong tropical sun by overhanging palm trees and mangroves, it was a quiet little slice of heaven. We had taken off on our own after lunch to do a little exploring, just wandering aimlessly, and had chosen this secluded spot for a swim, and that had segued quite naturally into a siesta. Now it was late afternoon, and I realized I was hungry.
I said "All right, I could use a snack too. You go pick us some of the easy stuff, and I'll go after that most dangerous of all prey, the coconut in its lair."
"You won't regret it," she said with a smile, bumping her warm hip against mine. "I'll make sure of that."
Cindy was wearing my white cotton undershirt, and nothing else. I was wearing silk boxer shorts and a dress shirt with the sleeves ripped off. One problem with being a castaway is that you don't get to select the outfit you're going to wear.
When the whole ruckus had started, we had been enjoying a formal dinner on board our cruise ship. Cindy had dressed up in a tight little black sheath that was totally impractical for rowing a lifeboat, or for any activity more vigorous than lifting a fork to her mouth. I had been wearing a beautifully-cut gabardine wool suit that made me feel like James Bond. I could cry to look at it now - you don't want to know what sea water does to gabardine.
Anyway, Cindy has a talent for making any outfit look terrific, and my undershirt was no exception. I was particularly fond of the way her perky nipples poked against the soft, sheer fabric. The fact that it just barely covered her ass was nice too. I watched her fondly as she strolled off into the jungly undergrowth, admiring the way her slim, tan legs and dark hair contrasted with the white cotton. Cindy was one delectable female, unless you happen to prefer the full-figured type.
I grabbed a short length of rope with a loop on each end and found a palm tree that looked promising. The trick, which I picked up from the Nature channel, is to put your wrists through the loops with the rope around the tree, as if you'd been arrested by the beach patrol. Then you can easily hold yourself in position by putting your bare feet against the trunk and leaning back against the rope. You climb the tree by sliding the rope up the trunk in quick little twists as you take small steps. Just don't look down, and don't do it on a windy day.
I made it to the top of the tree and managed to hack off several ripe coconuts with the knife conveniently supplied in our lifeboat. Then I took a moment to enjoy the view and get my bearings. Shading my eyes against the glare, I spotted the larger cove where we had made our landfall and set up camp, a few miles away. Here and there along the ribbon of white beach were little groups of people chatting and relaxing, playing in the surf, and generally enjoying themselves.
The Guild's annual Spring Workshop is really just an excuse for a bunch of hedonistic friends to get together and party, and we're not about to let a little thing like being stranded on on a tiny island interfere with our fun. As my buddy Bear put it, people pay through the nose for adventure travel these days, and we're getting to experience the real thing for free.
Officially we're still lost and awaiting rescue, but I don't think anyone is in a big rush to be found. No ragged "HELP" signs are laid out on the beach with rocks. No towering bonfires are waiting to be lit at the first sight of a ship. I overheard Taria talking furtively on a cell phone yesterday, rescheduling her Lit. 101 class, but I'll bet she hasn't called the coast guard. A plane flew overhead this morning, and from the way people ducked out of sight you would have thought it was a Japanese Zero making a strafing run.
As I was preparing to climb back down, I noticed some strange activity in a nearby clearing. What appeared at first glance to be the death struggles of a huge, fleshy insect turned out to be one of my male colleagues engaging in an athletic, sweaty bout of our favorite recreational activity with two of the nymphomaniac cheerleaders Bear had invited along. I made myself more comfortable and tried to pick up a few pointers.
My eavesdropping was rudely interrupted when Cindy called up to me. "DG! Come on down, I got us all sorts of stuff. What are you looking at?"
"Non-indigenous wildlife," I said as I shimmied back down the tree. "Here's a riddle for you: what has twelve tangled limbs, four bouncing breasts, and lots of school spirit?"
"Ah yes, the cheerleaders," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Don't they ever sleep? I have no idea how they manage to keep their grades up." I couldn't tell whether she disapproved or not - Cindy can be hard to read at times.
I looked with interest at the piles of freshly-picked fruit laid out on the sand. Ripe bananas, tender kumquats, furry little kiwis, luscious mangoes, and various other juicy delicacies that we haven't quite identified, none of us being a botanist or a chef.
"Check out those bad boys," said Cindy, pointing proudly to what looked like bananas fed on Miracle-Gro.
"I think they must be plantains," I said, examining the bunch. Each shiny, yellow-green fruit was easily twice the size of an average banana. "Not good eating unless you cook them. I can certainly see how they might catch a young woman's eye, though."
"Hah. How about these?" She pointed to some oval green fruit with a dull, waxy skin.
"Pussyfruit," I said with a lewd grin.
"Exsqueeze me?"
"You heard me - pussyfruit. That's what Kim calls them, anyway. Go ahead and cut one open, they're yummy."
Cindy took the knife and sliced the end off one. The inside meat was a lovely, dark pink color, with a moist, rubbery texture. The open fissure running down the center of the fruit added to the resemblance. Cindy laughed and scooped out a glistening glob with her finger. "Mmm, it is good. Tastes a little like watermelon."
"I always knew you'd like pussyfruit."
"OK, wise guy, let's eat."
I punched holes in a few of the big hairy coconuts, and we settled down to our high-fructose picnic. Cindy put a coconut to her mouth and tilted her head back for a long drink. Milk dribbled down her chin and throat. "Ahhh," she said finally. "That hits the spot."
"Careful of my undershirt," I said around a big mouthful of mango. "I'm thinking of dressing up for the big luau tonight."She giggled fetchingly and then, after delicately licking her fingers clean, she peeled off the t-shirt, folded it neatly, and set it aside.
"Much better," I said, suddenly a little hoarse. Despite the fact that we had been skinny dipping together just a few hours ago, the sight of her naked, loose-limbed form sprawled casually on the sand made my chest tighten and brought a familiar straining feeling to my loins.
As she daintily stuffed juicy mouthfuls of fruit into her mouth, she gazed knowingly at my shorts. "What are you thinking about, big guy? Those naughty cheerleaders?"
"No. Actually, I had this sudden mental picture of your cute little face all flushed and contorted with the joyful confusion of lust as I reamed your tight, hot cunny with one of those plantains."
"Is that right?" Cindy's used to me blurting out stuff like that. As a writer, I try to get overripe baloney like that out of my system quickly so it doesn't end up in my work.
"Yeah, pretty silly. Sorry."
"Hmm," she said noncommittally. I saw her steal a glance at the plantains.
"I mean, being so petite and all, you couldn't really handle something that big, it would spread you open like a... like a chicken laying a goose egg."
"Shows how much you know. Just because you're not hung like a plantain, don't think I wouldn't enjoy it."
I smiled. "Hung like a plantain, I like that. Very colorful." We looked at each other and started to laugh. Then she took a fresh coconut and tipped it up over her head. The stream of coconut milk missed her mouth by a mile, splattering against her throat and dribbling down her chest.
"Oops," she said. "Now look what I've done."
"Allow me." I eased her back onto her elbows and began to lick the milk off her neck, working my way down along the channel between her firm little breasts. The cloying sweetness of the milk blended nicely with the tang of sea salt and the familiar taste of Cindy's skin.
More coconut milk splashed against the side of my face and coated her right breast. Some of it went into my ear.
"Damn, this one just doesn't pour straight. Sorry about that."
"Let me try." I took the nut and upended it over her torso, liberally coating her breasts and stomach and making sure that plenty dribbled down into the furry little crevice between her thighs. "Jeez, what a sticky, sloppy mess," I said, tossing the coconut aside.
"You really know how to flatter a girl." She pulled my head down and held it firmly against her elegant bosom. I licked the milk off her breasts with long slow strokes of my tongue, making sure to occasionally bump against the hard, protruding nubs of her nipples.
"How do I taste?" she asked, a little breathlessly.
"Delish. Kinda sweet, though. You need a little something." I found a ripe little kiwi fruit and squeezed it over Cindy like I was wringing out a sponge. She shrieked in mock horror as green kiwi juice and pulp spurted everywhere. Then she rubbed it into her skin, giving her nipples an extra little pinch in the process. I took my time lapping up the fruit cocktail, running my tongue all over her smooth tan skin until she was shiny and clean. She spent most of the time giggling and squirming, especially when I ran my tongue tip along the taut bumps of her ribcage, but when I was done I could see in her eyes that her motor was warmed up and idling fast. The most casual of observers would immediately note that the same was true of me.
"Your turn," she said. She selected another coconut and carefully poured a thin stream of milk onto the swollen head of my cock. It trickled down my shaft and around my balls, following the path of least resistance all the way down into the crack in my ass. Yes, it tickled.
Cindy knelt in front of me and sucked eagerly on my coconut-flavored lollipop, quickly cleaning off the milk. I picked up the nut and poured on a fresh coating, and she sucked and licked and slurped happily as I splashed the sweet, sticky juice onto my cock and balls, getting plenty of it on her face.
Finally, she released my happy organ and looked up at me with a wet, sticky smile. "OK, I think I've finally satisfied my craving for coconut."
My cock strained up toward her mouth as if of its own accord. My balls twitched impatiently. "That's nice for you, but..." I looked down meaningfully.
She got a mischievous look in her eyes. "What you need is some pussy...fruit." She picked up the one she had sliced open earlier, and slid it over my cock. The inside felt cool and slick, with mushy little ridges. Not much like the real thing, but pleasant just the same.
"Interesting vacation this is turning out to be," said Cindy. She started moving the fruit up and down on my cock, making a pulpy squelching noise. "I thought I'd be shopping, getting my nails done, and hanging out by the pool, and here I am on a deserted island helping my husband sodomize a helpless piece of fruit."
"Well, you make your own fun. A little faster, please?"
Cindy picked up the pace, and I leaned my head back and groaned, trying to push myself over the edge. But the fruit was disintegrating on the inside, disgorging a juicy, sloppy mess all over my balls and thighs, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't quite manage to get off.
"I'm afraid you've worn this one out," said Cindy, tossing the loose, waxy skin aside. "You were just too much of a man for that poor -"
"Enough! I need it bad, woman - can't you see that? Do something!"
"Don't you want to see me fuck a huge banana first?" she asked sweetly.
I swallowed hard.
"When you put it that way..." I grabbed the bunch of plantains and broke off a relatively straight one. I hate to belabor the point, but it was much bigger than what Cindy was used to. As far as I know, anyway.
She eyed it a little uncertainly. "I think I need to warm up on something a little more manageable."
"Like a banana?"
She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back. "Don't be silly." She lifted a leg over my bent knees to straddle me, and then slid down the slope of my upper thighs until we made contact. A sinuous little wriggle, and she smoothly impaled herself on my sticky coconut palm. Her pussy was a decadently tight embrace of warm velvet, and I let out a moan and strained up against her. We moved together in our familiar coupling rhythm for a delicious few seconds and then she cruelly stood up, leaving me high and dry.
"That ought to do it, thanks hon."
"All right, bitch," I growled. "I'm gonna give you a fruit-fucking you'll never forget."
With the menacing uberbanana gripped in my fist, I guided her onto her back and spread her thighs.
"Be gentle," she squeaked.
I was, in fact, quite gentle as I pressed the head of the waxy, yellow-green plantain against her moist pink slot. She twisted and shifted a little, making fine adjustments, then said "take me." I pressed a little harder, and the phallic fruit slid smoothly into her muscular confines.
"God," she said. And then, a little louder, "Oh God!"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning keep going."
The huge organic dildo slid in a few more inches, spreading apart her moist pink folds in a fascinatingly obscene way. I slid it back out, and then slowly worked it back in even farther, as she continued to loosen up and adjust.
"Oh Gaawwd!" she moaned.
"So is this like a religious experience, then?"
"Shut up and fuck me."
I obediently shoved the plantain in and out of her pussy, and a pleasantly hydraulic sucking sound began to accompany her guttural grunts of pleasure. A few times her eyes shut tight and her body stiffened, but I couldn't tell if she was really coming or not. After a few minutes of groaning, heavy breathing, and terse instructions ("faster," "slower," and "stop twisting, dammit!" are the ones I remember) she finally pushed my hand away and let the plantain squirt out onto the sand.
"Had enough?" I asked.
She shook her head. "It's driving me crazy, DG. It feels good, but I can't get all the way off. I need to come. I mean, I really need to come."
I could have said "Join the club," but I went with "What's your pleasure?" instead, figuring she would want to be mounted and I could finally release the pent-up tension in my balls.
"Eat me." She spread her legs in lewd invitation. "Please."
I selected a ripe banana and began to peel it, trying to appear casual. "Let me just grab a bite first."
"Dee-Gee!"
"OK, OK, just a second. I've got an idea." I took the peeled banana and pressed it against her crotch.
"You're not going to satisfy me with that," she protested. "Hey, that tickles!"
I finished pushing soft banana up inside her pussy. "How does that feel?"
"Sticky and mushy and not very satisfying."
"Maybe if I ate the banana now?"
Her face lit up with anticipation. "Now you're talking. Chow down on my banana split, big guy."
"I thought banana split is what happened to you before," I said with a grin. She wasn't much in the mood for wordplay, though, so I sprawled forward and went to work. I licked up all the little chunks of banana that I could reach with my tongue, and then I took mercy on her and moved up to her sensitive, swollen clit.
"Oh yes..." she whimpered, as I swirled around it. "Right there, sweetie."
She came with a shuddering groan, and I was rewarded with a mouthful of warm banana mush as her pussy clenched and spasmed. For some reason, I was reminded of the experiments where the pigeons learn to peck on a lever to get a food pellet. I slurped up the banana and then went back to her clit. Sure enough, the same thing happened again, this time accompanied by a full-throated cry of pleasure.After a record-tying fifth orgasm, the banana was completely gone and so was Cindy. She lay in a limp puddle on the soft sand with her eyes half-closed, staring at me with a look of utter bovine satisfaction on her face.
"That was great, hon. Gonna take...little nappie."
"What! What about me?"
She grunted, and one shoulder twitched in what I could only assume was a shrug. "Just...do whatever you want. So....sleepy."
Wonderful.
I rolled her onto her side and spooned myself in behind her. My aching erection quickly buried itself in her wet, sticky pussy, and I wriggled into a position where I could drive myself into her tight cunt with short little thrusts.
After thirty seconds or so, Cindy started to come out of her coma and push back against me, grinding her cute little ass into my groin. Almost immediately, I felt the delicious burning rush move up my shaft and then the beach seemed to spin around us in slow circles as I pumped about three gallons of semen up inside her.
After a short breather, Cindy arched her long neck around and gave me a kiss.
"We better go for a swim before the juice dries and we get permanently stuck like this," she said. "People would talk, even here."
So we helped each other to our feet and walked hand in hand into the clear, refreshing water of our own private corner of paradise. | 4 |
5,128 | RP Queer Halloween by Vickie Tern | "Why don't you invite one of your best clients, too?" I suggested. "Someone who'd really enjoy an all-out bash like this one. Someone who likes parties where people dress up like what they're not, but someone who can remain a gentleman even when there are available women everywhere. No real competition for our own unattached staff."
"I hear you, Anne," he said. "Great! I know just the one! Our biggest client! He lives in town and he'll be delighted!"
So it was all set.
Then I told Jerry that we'd been invited to a Halloween Costume Party at my Boss's House. A lot of the office staff and their friends would be there. People I knew and people I didn't. Maybe no one he knew, maybe only a few. He nodded, not really concerned. I told him the rules for the grand prize this year, and asked him, "Any ideas?"
"How about I go as a girl again. You can go as a guy, so we'll be a couple."
"No," I said. "This time you'd have to be a lot more persuasive. It would take you too long to learn how a real woman acts and feels. After seeing last year's performance I doubt you're capable of it. This year you've got to act the part, convince people you're really what you seem to be. Not so incidentally, if we don't go as a couple you'll have a terrific advantage at this party, because no one knows the real you. You can seem to be anybody or anything if you do it right, and they'll believe you're the real thing. And I've got just the part for you to play, something you seem to think you aren't at all, though I've got my doubts."
"What's that?"
"Look here. If you can persuade the judges that you are in fact what you seem to be, that you're not even in costume, you'll win! You won't like it, but I want you to do this for me. Then maybe I can be persuaded that you do care enough about me to do things I want you to, whether you want to or not. That could have an effect on the way I feel about you in bed. No promises, mind you."
"What are you proposing, Anne?"
"I want you to go this time as a man."
He stared at me. "What are you talking about? Are you kidding? What's the costume? And how is that something I think I'm not?"
"That's the edge I have in mind. Other people will dress up in costumes. But this year our costumes aren't going to be just cloth or makeup. They'll be under our skins, in the way we act, how we behave. We'll dress appropriately of course, but mainly we'll create the illusion with our voices, our mannerisms, the ways we move and relate to other people. You maintain your role perfectly through the whole evening and maybe we can talk again about what you are with me in bed, and what you aren't. Maybe I'll forgive you for that night when you didn't think I was sexy enough, or sexy the right way, or maybe the right sex."
"So what'll I go as?"
"A man."
"You've said that. I can do that."
"A gay man."
"A what!!?"
"You heard me! A gay man, Jerry! A homo! A faggot! A fairy! A pansy! A queer! A feygel! You know any other names, name them!" I'd let out some of my real suppressed anger, so I stopped short, and took some deep breaths, and then continued more calmly.
"You usually behave the way most gay men behave, normal. So that won't do. You'd never be recognized if you acted normal. So you'll have to pretend. For people to catch on you'll have to exaggerate some traits, behave like a full-blown stereotype queer. But nothing excessive. No camping. No burlesquing. No signalling 'I am but I'm not.' This time there'll be none of that admiration you got because you had the guts to dress like a girl but were too gutless or unimaginative to act like one. This time you'll need to look and act just like what people think is the real thing, persuasively." I looked at him meaningfully. "I suspect you have a talent for it, as you know."
He ignored the innuendo. "And you? What will you go as?"
I smiled and weaved my hips at him a little. "Oh, you'll like what I'll be. You're always trying to get me to go out dressed like one, and to behave like one. So for once I will."
"What's that?"
"A really promiscuous slut. A whore who enjoys sex so much she doesn't charge. I know I haven't been anything like that in the past. I love sex, but I've never yet once cheated on you, Jerry. I think you know that. That's why your...inability when I was hot for you affected me so deeply. If I can play my role the way you play your role, then maybe when we get back here I'll be able to reconsider what you really are."
Jerry began thinking. "It would look funny if we arrived at this party together, a gay man married to a whore."
"That's not so strange a pair. Gays and whores can be on the lookout for partners for each other. But we won't be married at all as far as anyone knows. We'll be brother and sister. People at my office know I'm married to someone, that I'm a responsible executive, not a tramp, so they'll see my costume in the way I behave. But no one there knows you at all. They'll have no reason to think you aren't really my gay brother, the genuine article, until the time comes for the judges to do their judging."
"What would I wear?"
"I've thought about that. Not much that's different. A tight T-shirt, or muscle shirt, maybe a loose satin shirt. Really tight jeans, skin tight, so your buns show -- we may need to pad them. Maybe made of velvet, so you can stroke yourself and people will understand why. It's your behavior that'll give you away, mainly. Most people don't know that gays come in all styles -- leather, three-piece suit, tough hood, dresses, cops, the whole range. So you'll have to behave stereotype femme for your disguise to be identified."
"I'll get you a haircut with little bangs, maybe. You'll swish a little while walking, not a lot. You'll talk with a slight lilt, maybe move a little floppy wristed, not a lot. In fact I think maybe we'll have you talk like a girl. Most gays don't, but you'd be more persuasive that way. Let's see -- a single ear ring. You won't need to get an ear pierced, there are spring-loaded kinds you can't tell from the real thing from the front. But that's up to you. If you do get one ear pierced, I'd recommend you get them both pierced. I hear a gay man with a steady boy friend changes which ear has the ear ring, so other men won't hit on him all the time. Like wearing a wedding ring."
"Oh, yes. We won't dance with each other at all. I'll dance with other men, and so will you. You'll have to sense which ones are most likely willing, and which most likely to turn you down. Check 'em out, the way gay men do. Tune in. Gays can tell a lot about each other with very few words. If any man asks you to dance, you'll look him up and down and then of course you'll accept. Charmingly. You can walk tight-assed or you can swagger, which ever you choose. Last year when you were a girl you should have been modest and tight-assed, but instead you swaggered. This year you can do it either way."
Jerry thought about it. "You've been thinking I'm a queer, because I couldn't get it up for you that one night. Now if I can prove to everyone that's what I am, you'll be persuaded I'm not? Is that what you're saying? What sense does that make?"
"I'll know that whatever you pretend, it isn't what I know you are, because I'll see the difference. And I'll know that you did it because I wanted you to do it. And that you're trying hard to do it right. For me."
He thought a moment, still a bit confused. "OK. That's not too hard. I can do it, for one night. It'll be worth it just to see you loosen up for once, see you try to act like a loose woman. I don't think you've got any more talent for it than I've got."
I smiled. "Maybe not. We'll see."
Well, Carol, finally, here comes our lunch. A bottle of Pouilly Fuisse too? That seem about right? We can sip it while we eat, and afterwards too. There's lots more to tell.Then he had to find his keys in his pocket as if he were searching through a purse, and I made him slide the key into the lock with flair, like a ballet movement, or a sexual act performed with one arm. At first, I made him try to sound like Truman Capote, but we settled for his sounding just a little bitchy.
It started out as a game for him, to please me, something to master like a golf stroke or skiing moguls. Obviously, he didn't feel touched deep inside, not obviously. But he soon began to wear the mannerisms casually, the way he'd worn his chorus girl outfit last year, un-self-consciously, almost unawares, and that only made him seem more naturally faggoty, more the way people expect gays to behave. As he did it better, he really got into it. The weekend before the big event, old Mrs. Warren from down the street saw him mincing across the front yard to dig in some bulbs for me, and she jokingly asked him if he'd dig in hers too. Without even thinking, he pushed the air toward her with one hand and then gracefully withdrew it, and said "Silly! What a naughty thing to say!" with a smile and a lisp of all things, as if she'd made an immoral suggestion. Mrs. Warren stared at him a moment and continued on her way without another word. I handed him some more bulbs and pointed to where I wanted them without another word too. He didn't even know what he'd done!
It became the way he behaved everywhere except at the office. I took him shopping one day at a store that catered to certain...umm...flamboyant male tastes, to buy himself some velvet pants while I loitered outside and enjoyed watching him. The salesman happened to be altogether floppy wristed, a real parody gay man, and waved his arms and bobbed his neck dramatically like some drag queen caricature. They struck it off right away. The salesman leaned in on Jerry to tug his the pants up, to be sure his ass cheeks would be seen in them to advantage, and he kept patting Jerry's rear, until finally, I saw Jerry wag a finger at him. When Jerry emerged with his package, I asked what he had said to cool the salesman down.
"I told him I was taken."
"Well, we'll see to it that you're not too taken when you're at the party. The more your partners paw you, the more convincing your act will seem. It *is* still an act, isn't it?"
He just smiled understandingly at me, but the truth was, I was doing everything I could think of to make him unsure. The most fun came in bed. Sex between us stopped altogether, of course, because I didn't want to trigger any masculine feelings if I could help it. Yet I had to keep him drained, so he wouldn't pick up a little loose nookie at the office and undo what I was doing to him at home.
So I went to Victoria's Secret and bought the sexiest lingerie I could find, crotchless panties, a demi-pushup bra I spilled out of as soon as I was in it and a black lace teddy that hid nothing underneath. I decided these would be my slut wear under the little bolero Jerry had worn last year, and I was pleased to see that the bolero played peek-a-boo with the dark shadows of my nipples when I tried it all on. Garter belt and net stockings, naturally. Then I made up the way Jerry had been made up last year, eyes slathered in black. I lay back on pillows and with one knee raised, I invited Jerry to approach me when he entered the bedroom. He was already breathing hard and was about to leap me when I flung back a fold in my robe and exposed an enormous black dildo rising high out of my crotch!
"Here, faggoty-boy, this is for you," I said. "You remember how I used to do you? Do me! And be persuasive!"
He was shocked, so repelled and resentful he almost refused. But I glowered at him with all the sexual power I could muster. "Make love to my prick, Jerry! Suck my cock, my fairy queen! Now!"
And slowly, he lowered himself to his knees, and he did it! Twice I had to tell him to put his heart and soul into it, and I kept him at it for over an hour, until his head and lips seemed to belong there, and my cock in his mouth felt as natural to him as his own tongue.
Then for a finale, I had him whack off, squirting all over the dildo, and then lick his cum off it.
"Why all this?" he asked, a little annoyed, as he bent over to scoop up a pearly puddle at the base of the dildo with his lips and tongue. "What has this to do with playing the homo at a party?"
"Why, Jerry," I answered, trying to restrain my glee as his tongue chased his own cum around the dildo's shaft, licking it provocatively in the process. "Don't you know what gay men like to do? Every moment you're talking with some man, or dancing with one, and you'd better, I'll want you to be imagining how his cock would feel in your mouth, how his cum would taste. You see, honey, you're going to have to try to seduce your partners, if you can find any, and you can't fake a desire to be really intimate with someone, or you won't be convincing to anyone who's watching. You'll have to seem to mean it! To want to hold a cock in your mouth as the height of bliss! Now kiss mine with real affection, and jerk off again while you're doing it so it feels good to you whenever you kiss me there. But be sure the cum lands where it should. Then lick it off me again, and I'll let you get to sleep."
In the morning, he had to produce cum for licking twice more, and that next night the same again. A few days before the party, he could barely cum even once, and I was quite sure he wasn't rediscovering masculine drives with any of the secretaries at work. Each evening I reclined back on the bed with my knees parted, and he flounced to the floor, sucked away on my cock, finally managed to cum all over it and me, licked it all off, and went to sleep. It got to be a bedtime routine like brushing his teeth -- except that he brushed beforehand, of course, because I wanted him sleeping every night with the flavor of cum in his mouth.
The Thursday before Halloween Saturday Night, I took Jerry to my Beauty Salon, got them to put tight waves into his hair like a marcel, and then to pierce both his ears, both of them before he had any idea what was happening. I wanted him to wear little gold hoops in both ears, I told him, until we found out which meant he was cruising and which that he was taken. Then he could take out one, depending.
He wasn't happy. In fact, he was a little angry. "How the hell am I supposed to go to the office tomorrow looking like this?" he asked.
So I sounded even angrier, as if my patience was exhausted. "Jerry, the same way you always do, only this time, looking the way you're supposed to look Saturday night." I stopped him as we were leaving the salon, and I stared him down. "And you better get into character now, and stay in character all day tomorrow, pansy man, and you'd better not tell anybody at your office what all this is about! I want them to think you're their resident closet queer suddenly blossomed out into daylight. I want you to get used to different people's reactions. If they make cracks, or insults, no macho bullshit in return! You can be bitchy if you want, or you can name call. You can even be aggressively affectionate -- try to put your hands on them and call them 'dear' if they get too close, and they'll back off soon enough. Or you can cry and run away."
"Most people will treat you decently enough, at least to your face. You might try flirting with some of them for practice. Next Monday, I don't care what you tell them. But tomorrow you are a flaming queer and you'll dress the part -- tight pants, pointy suede shoes and everything. Maybe a little mascara and pink lipstick also, to underline the point!"
I knew he'd have a hard day, and he did. That afternoon he flounced back into the house frowning deeply and muttering to himself, and at first, I wasn't going to ask him why. I assumed that the girls in the office had figured him for a freak, and his male ego had cracked under the strain. Or that Ralph, his boss, had come by and had seen Jerry waving his ass at someone. Well, good! But that night when I was in my whore's regalia as usual and he was kneeling down to suck my cock as usual, he suddenly volunteered what had happened.
"Bastards!" he said. "Out-of-town salesmen, they don't know me! Three of them figure I'm fair game, grab me when I'm in the third floor men's room, nowhere near our office, and they haul me into a booth, and then they take turns holding me down while I blow them, one after the other. They stank of piss, those goddam cocks. And their cum was so slimy I could barely get it down without gagging."
Perfect! "But you did get it down," I said to console him, not knowing whether to laugh or feel pity. "That's a good boy. What did their cocks feel like in your mouth?"
"Rubber," he said. "Like this one of yours, but silky smooth. Much warmer. I don't want to think about it! Wait 'till Monday! If I see them again, their asses are mine!"
"Maybe," I said, thinking that if all went well, by Monday his ass as well as theirs would be up for grabs. I noticed that he was intensely absorbed, and there were tears in his eyes. Because he still felt furious? Helpless? Anything else?
You sure you have nothing else planned for this afternoon, Carol? Well, maybe we'll look in at that sale in Nordstrom's when we're finished here. I need to pick up a few things for me and Jerry. Remind me if I forget.
Anyhow, the big night finally rolled around -- it's hard to remember now that it was just last weekend, so much has changed! There was a nip in the air, and unraked autumn leaves everywhere. Halloween weather!I made myself ravishing the way I did every night, but this time I put on new black high-heeled thigh-high boots to wear instead of stockings, and my crotchless panties of course, and a black leather micro mini that covered my bare pussy lips only when I stood up straight and still. Jerry looked great too. A little touch of mascara again, and his hair oiled back, and a chest-tight knit silk muscle shirt together with his purple velvet pants, and he was fussing around the room without even thinking about it. We'd had his pants tailored even tighter, so his balls bulged in front as well as his buns in back, and he grabbed for them now and then unthinkingly, to relieve the pressure. Just the right touch of suggestiveness.
Just before we left the house, I gave his crotch a squirt of perfume. He looked startled, and I said playfully, "Can I help it if my brother is a fag who wears perfume?" That reminded him, and he minced into the car. Then as he was starting to back down the driveway, I said to him, "Just one more thing and you're on your own, brother. When we make our entrance, walk as if someone's cock was already in your ass. If anyone really gay is interested, we'll want them to know that you're available, so the judges can see for themselves that even the real thing thinks you're the real thing."
"Anne, just how far do you mean for me to go? Isn't there any limit to this notion of yours?"
"Jerry," I said. "You just stay in character, and be what you're supposed to be for this one night, and do it right even if that means you have to go a little further than you'd like. It won't be anything men don't do. Then afterward we'll talk. I suspect that after tonight I'll feel satisfied. We'll see."
The mansion was impressive all lit up, as we parked in the space I'd reserved for me. My boss Roger met us at the door, looking splendid in a tuxedo with a wing collar, not much of a costume, but suitable I suppose to his role as a host.
"Welcome, Anne," he said. "You've done wonders with the decoration, and the food, and the orchestra, everything. Impressive, and handled with no last-minute flurries!" He looked a little more closely at Jerry and his mouth opened just a bit. "And this is...your husband?"
"My brother!" I told Roger, looking him straight in the eye. "This is my brother Jerry. Same name as my husband's, no resemblance otherwise. I'm alone tonight, though I don't expect to stay that way."
"Not in that costume," he said. "You look good enough to eat."
"I hope so," I replied. "I'm looking forward to it."
Roger squared his shoulders and took my arm and led me into the main hallway, leaving Jerry standing on his own at the door. "Not a chance it won't happen," he said. "Not a chance. May I have the first dance?"
He did. A half hour after we arrived I was in one of the larger bedrooms off the main downstairs hallway, two huge beds with coverlets already drawn down, wiping his cum out of my pussy as best I could, tucking kleenex into my slit to slow the flow, and kissing him on the nose. "That was marvelous!" I told him. "My husband's been away a long time now. I'd almost forgotten the moves."
"Oh no," he said. "You do things my wife couldn't possibly do. That teeny rotating of your twat just about when you started moaning, it drove me wild! And I wish I'd known earlier how wonderful you taste."
"Well, you know now," I said. I just couldn't stop smiling! I felt so liberated! It was just delicious, being a bona fide slut! Here in front of me was my first brand new man since my marriage! A whole new world to explore! He had a great tongue, really marvelous, and a short but fat and altogether satisfying prick. I had no complaint about either of my orgasms. "I'd better go see how Jerry's doing," I said. "He doesn't know anyone here."
"Don't worry, Anne," Roger said. "I suspect he's well tended. There are a few people here with his... ahh... interests. I notice that you invited your husband's boss, Ralph. He's an old friend, we were in the same eating club at Princeton. I'm glad you asked him, his ex being off with my wife and all, and Ralph with nothing else planned. But he's brought someone who'll certainly want to meet your brother if he hasn't already, a client of his who is as it happens is also a client of ours too. If the two of them hit it off, we can all be happy."
He smiled at me, and took me gently by the elbow, and led me back to the bed. "Anne, if you don't mind mounting me this time, I'd love to show your wonderful breasts how profoundly I can worship them while we fuck again. My wife's also been away longer than I'd thought."
"That's what I'm here for, Roger," I said. "Sluttish is as sluttish does."
His tongue on my nipples felt even better than his cock in my cunt, and that was ecstasy! God, I'd waited a long time for a real man! I smiled as I thought that Jerry'd been one only a few months ago. I wondered if I could think of him that way ever again. If he'd ever be one again.
It didn't look that way when I went into the large room we'd turned into a ballroom, orchestra on one side, all sorts of animals and bunnies and horror film characters swaying and bouncing everywhere. The orchestra began a slow dance, and the floor quickly filled. Sure enough, there was my Jerry in a far corner plastered to a tall, muscular man I didn't know. The man wore a studded motorcycle jacket, and Jerry was nearly wrapped inside it. The mutual client, no doubt about it, and they'd found each other as Roger had predicted.
As I looked closer I saw the client grinding his pelvis into my Jerry's crotch with each beat, holding Jerry's velvet buns close, one in each huge hand. Jerry was holding his partner around the neck, taking the woman's role I noted with satisfaction, his head on the man's shoulder and turned well away. There seemed to be a desperate gleam in his eye, and as I watched I saw why. The client let go Jerry's rear end for a moment, and as Jerry turned toward him thinking the dance was finally done, he took Jerry's head in both hands, leaned over him, and tenderly but with iron firmness kissed him on the mouth. The kiss lasted a while. Jerry's hands fell helplessly to his sides, dangling there. Then his partner placed them back around his neck and they resumed their clutched movements, grinding against each other.
"They're getting on very well, wouldn't you say?"
I looked up, and there alongside me was Ralph in a tiger costume of sorts, also looking at the loving couple.
"I'm glad you invited me to invite him. His name's Mike, incidentally. I introduced Jerry to him as your brother, as you'd suggested, and they hit it off right away. At least Mike did, and Jerry's obviously under strict instructions to go with the flow, to be what he seems to be. I told him Mike was our best client, so he should be sure Mike gets whatever he wants. How did you turn that compulsive stud into such a compliant queer? What kind of a hold have you got on him?"
"The best kind," I replied. "I've got him by the balls! He still wants to stay married to me for some reason, and I'm setting conditions. Enlarging his horizons for him." | 5 |
Subsets and Splits