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3,584 | Sanna | "Then you bless them, seal off their commitment, and conclude the ceremony," Father Chodel said. "By popular custom, the couple usually kisses."
Sanna nearly groaned. The priest's dry description of the wedding ceremony made watching snails race exciting in comparison.
Arrangement. Dowry. Bloodlines. Rings. Families bartering their sons and daughters to gain prestige and wealth. Not once in the past two hours had the word 'love' been mentioned.
Sanna often wondered what the lessons would have looked like had they all worshiped Shilohin instead of Eesyan. Detailed marital instruction for the bride and groom? Performance class with the sixty-five positions?
Gods, I would have aced that class, she mused. She stifled a giggle.
"Is something funny, Sanna Penhale?!" Chodel boomed. "Something the rest of us missed?"
Sanna, more annoyed than embarrassed by Chodel's outburst, glanced around her. Most acolytes looked bored, some conversed in muted voices. It looked as if the entire class was hibernating.
"Well Father, I was just wondering what I have to tell a bride who asks me for... well..." Her voice faltered.
"Well, what?" Chodel said impatiently.
"Advice on bedchamber activities," she said deadpan.
All conversation in the chapel stopped.
"Well, doesn't that fall under 'explaining marital duties'?" she continued innocently.
Chodel turned red. A few acolytes in the back turned and coughed loudly, covering their mirth at their teacher's obvious discomfort.
"Although it might be a daunting task," Sanna went on. "After all, you don't take someone who's not allowed to pick up a weapon seriously either, when he speaks about fighting styles."
Some of the older acolytes winced at the obvious stab.
Father Chodel raised a trembling hand and pointed at the door.
"Out," he whispered. "Get out."
Sanna bowed briefly and said: "By your leave, Father."
In a mixture of relief and frustration, she walked out.
The library was fairly empty. Since the renovation of the west wing, the scribes had gotten their chambers, where they could work in peace, undisturbed by the coming and going of young initiates. The space gained by their move was now filled with rows of desks. Also, three aisles of bookshelves had been extended a good six feet.
Sanna strolled down the aisles and looked at the rows of librams, tomes, and scrolls. She picked up 'Principia Initiae' and turned to chapter two. She began to read, as if to find something she'd overlooked all those times she had studied the text.
"To study, to serve, to teach. Only this is the purview of the initiate. The need for adventure, the accumulation of wealth, and any pursuit of personal desires is merely distraction from devotion."
This was the foundation of the relationship-rule. The no-sex rule. Thou shalt not fornicate. The chapter was over four hundred years old. Loopholes had been found by devious apprentices and had been plugged by even more clever priests. All possible shades of meaning had been debated over the centuries and all nuances been written down in various guides and journals.
All in all, she mused, the initiates could be proud of what they had gotten out of it, in the long run.She had kept lowering her expectations until she found someone she could at least respect.
Until someone like that presented himself, she worked hard. Since she had taken her vows as an acolyte, she had immersed herself in her studies. Apart from checking out potential Seniors, she had avoided thinking about men altogether. She ignored invitations to birthdays or dances and could stroll through town all afternoon without having a single moment of weakness. But she couldn't stop the dreams.
At night, every night, she was free and lived outrageously. Sometimes she was with a man, sometimes with a woman. One night she dreamt about a handsome sorcerer who took her to a sunny beach. He cast a spell that made them virtually weightless. Floating seven feet above the shore, they slowly made love, their cries mingling with those of the seagulls. In another dream, she was addressing the Temple Consensus, pleading for more personal freedom. While she was talking, she felt a couple of warm hands caressing her breasts and a soft tongue starting to lick her inner thighs. When she looked down, she discovered she stood naked before the crowd of High Priests, but there was no one near her. As she struggled to finish her speech, her invisible lover continued the oral assault. It didn't take long before she cried out, pushing her loins into the face of her invisible lover. Most of the time, she remembered only fragments of those dreams.
And then there were the dreams about Miriam.
They were in the steam room, naked and covered in sweat. When it was Miriam's turn for a backrub, Sanna said, "You are just perfect. If I were a boy, I'd know what to do with you."
Miriam, who rested her head on her hands, looked at her and replied softly, "Why don't you show me anyway?"
And she did.
She always woke up feeling highly excited, her face flushed and her heart still beating wildly. Knowing sleep wouldn't return until she was fulfilled, she slipped her left hand down her chemise and started rubbing her wetness. Within moments, she reached her peak. After two breathtaking orgasms, she calmed down and fell asleep again.
The memory of these vivid dreams did not fade; at any time of day or night, she could recall even the smallest detail of them. Not that she often did, because they never failed to arouse her. And they made her sad, for she knew they would never happen between them. She would never jeopardize their close friendship by making a move on her.
The bell for the midday meal sounded. Sanna blinked and smiled. She was daydreaming a lot lately. She put the book back on the shelf and walked to the dinner hall.
During midday meals, Sanna usually kept to herself. She didn't join conversations and only spoke when someone asked her a direct question. In all her time in the Temple, Miriam had been her only close friend. She didn't bother to try and make new ones, figuring she would leave Korinth soon enough.
To her dismay, Cicely Dantzen took a seat opposite her.
Cicely was the kind of student who seemed to float through the clerical career with the grace of a dancer. Everything seemed to come naturally to her. With a minimum of study, she always was the first of her class, making her the favorite of more than a few teachers. She could dazzle nearly everyone with her toothy smile. She never lacked any friends, male or female. People seemed eager to be with her, to be seen with her. She carried herself with an almost regal presence and seemed to treat everyone around her as a loyal subject.
Sanna only nodded when Cicely greeted her cheerfully. She watched her as she started a conversation with a junior priest next to her. Cicely was very attractive, and objectively, Sanna could understand why people behaved the way they did around her.
Personally, she couldn't care less. The Ice Queen didn't do anything for her, and not even in her wildest dreams did she make out with Cicely.
"Well, Sister Sanna, that was quite a show you put on in the chapel, wasn't it?" Cicely said casually.
Sanna ate her soup. She wasn't surprised that it had come out, and someone as popular as Cicely knew every gossip and rumor within the hour.
After a few spoonfuls, she asked, "Why, do you disagree, Sister?"
"I just thought it was odd that someone like you had to say it," Cicely replied. "I mean, it's not as if you miss out on anything, not with your looks."
Sanna reddened with embarrassment. The hand holding the spoon halted in mid-air. Staring into her blurry mirror image in the bowl of soup, she thought: Does she think I'm ugly? Is she saying...
"So true, Sister Cicely," a dry voice came from the left. "But then again, _she_ doesn't have to cover up her true nature with stunning looks." Everyone within hearing range turned to look at the speaker, a short, heavy-set apprentice with a full, round face. Cicely paled.
Unperturbed, the apprentice looked at Sanna and said, "Could you pass the salt, sister?"
Sanna passed the salt and looked curiously at him.
"Excuse me," Cicely said frostily, "I didn't get your name."
The apprentice nodded and elaborately sprinkled salt over his steak.
"I know," he replied. "I like to stay ahead of some people..." He paused, removing a piece of lint from his collar, drawing out the moment until it became insultingly long, before adding, "...sister."
Someone at the end of the table giggled, and Sanna looked down to hide her smile. Conversation was resumed, and Cicely kept quiet throughout the rest of the meal. She left the table without saying a word.
Sanna lingered until the apprentice and she were the only ones left sitting. At the end of the table, the apprentices with kitchen duty started to clean up.
"I thought I was the only one with a resistance against Cicely's charms," she began. The apprentice wiped his mouth with the inside of his sleeve and laughed.
"Surely you are joking. I spotted Miss Frosty a mile away," he smiled. "Sister," he added, warmly this time, as if he was an adoring younger brother.
Sanna smiled back, thinking: He is good. A real charmer.
"I'm Sanna Penhale," she said. "Are you new here?"
"Penhale?" His eyebrows raised in admiration. "I read your name on the honors list. No wonder she hates you - she feels you breathing down her neck."
Sanna suddenly realized that he might be right. It could very well be that with all her hard work, she was in second place. She had never bothered to look on the list because it didn't mean anything to her. She didn't study to be number one - she just studied to get her mind off things.
"I'm Avital," the apprentice introduced himself. "A transfer from Em Ventar. I got here yesterday."
Sanna held out her hand, and he shook it by clasping her forearm. Her brother Alan, a warrior trainee, had shown her that greeting once.
"You've been to a Warrior Academy," she observed.
Avital smiled somewhat sheepishly.
"Sorry. Old habits die hard," he said. "I had two years behind me at the School of Tacticians before I found out I could heal. After that, things were somewhat... out of my hands."
"Sister Sanna, I would like a word with you," a priestess interrupted them. They both looked toward the entrance of the dining hall, where a tall, slender woman was beckoning Sanna. The look on her face spelled trouble.
"Good luck," Avital whispered.
Sanna opened her mouth to thank him when the priestess boomed, "In my chambers, now!!"
Mother Maeragh slammed the door shut.
"You think you are pretty clever, don't you?" she started.
Sanna still rubbed her left arm. The priestess had dragged her through the halls by her arm, and rather roughly at that.
"Clever? No, mother..."
"You made obscene suggestions to Father Chodel during wedding instruction."
"What!?" Sanna's eyes spread wide in disbelief. "But I..."
"Did you or did you not ask Father Chodel for sexual advice?"
"Yes, but not in such..."
"Park duty for a week. We'll purge that rebellious streak yet."
Sanna was appalled. Weeding the public gardens, removing fallen leaves and pebbles from the flower beds, using nothing but her bare hands. Her first thought was: I did not deserve this. Then, unbidden, came another: They won't get me down. I won't give them a reason to keep me here any longer than absolutely necessary.
"Was there anything else, mother?" she asked, looking at the ground.
Mother Maeragh regarded the acolyte with pursed lips. After a moment or two, she answered, "No. You can go now, sister."
Sanna emptied the wooden bucket into the wheelbarrow. Another five feet of weed-choked flowerbed cleared of funny bits. The fingers of her left hand were covered in a black-green layer of dirt. She slowly walked back to her designated spot. Her back protested as she tried to straighten up. More than a few muscles in her legs ached. She had been crouching for the first hour, then shifted her stance to kneeling. She had felt the small pebbles of the paths between the flowerbeds digging into her knees. Sitting or lying down was not allowed. The overseer, a man with a ruddy face and a bushy mustache, was not above kicking his...
'Slaves' would be the correct word, Sanna thought. Or 'peons'. The humiliation of park duty lay in the fact that it was public punishment. The small group of acolytes and apprentices who weekly attended to the parks of Korinth had to deal with jibes of commoners, noblemen lecturing about virtues, and sometimes dirt-kicking street urchins. The overseer wasn't even a priest but usually one of those men one never catches working but who nevertheless manage to make a living. This week's overseer enjoyed telling park visitors the transgression of each member of his work crew.
"Move along, fat boy! Keep those grubby little hands busy!""The overseer scolded. He shoved a slightly overweight apprentice away from the wheelbarrow.
"Think those hands are good enough to nab meat from the kitchen, but not to do an honest day's work? Koriel watches you, fat boy!"
And you too, Sanna thought. She was careful not to let her irritation show; until now the overseer's ire had been directed elsewhere and the last thing she desired was the man's attention.
Methodically removing green and brown shoots of weed, she tried to finish the last part of her flowerbed. She tried to draw some satisfaction from the yards of flowerbeds she'd already covered, but on the morning of the last day she noticed that the part of the park their group had worked on in the beginning was already starting to deteriorate again.
An entire group of gardeners could be kept occupied, day in, day out, for a full season, just to keep the grounds well-kept.
At the end of the last day of her punishment, after she had emptied her bucket for the last time, she noted with a slight disgust that although she was tired, her muscles no longer ached and protested when she made sudden moves. She was actually getting used to the menial work! Right there and then she decided to use her last town pass, dine in a quiet inn and spend an evening on her own.
And to drown her frustrations in a carafe of wine.
As soon as she had cleared her night out with the priest on duty at the Front Office, she headed down to the basement for a steambath. The bell for the evening meal sounded just as she turned the corner to the women's section.
She had once tried to find out whether the Temple had always been separating the men from the women when bathing or whether it had been a sudden change. Curiously, although the library had extensive librams on architecture and even maps covering the various Temples in Edalaran and even of a few in far away lands, information on the lower levels, including the steambaths, was non-existent. If she had to believe the scrolls, a couple of hundred years ago, the baths and basements had suddenly sprung into existence. Nobody seemed to know who'd built it or whose design it had been.
Sanna had heard of tales about a Temple devoted entirely to Shilohin, the Lady of Love and Lust, where men and women did bathe together. Rumour would have the Temple located in a mountainous area in the southwest of Edalaran.
Two apprentices came out of the dressing room, their hair still wet and tousled. The two girls nodded briefly and hurried upstairs, already late for dinner.
Sanna took off her robe, folded it and put it on one of the wooden benches that stood lined against the walls. She slipped out of her sandals and stood on the cold stone floor, the contact sending a familiar shiver from her feet up to her face. She suppressed the impulse to hurry, even slowed her movements and calmly stripped until she was naked. Slowly she walked towards the pool room, ignoring the feel of the cold stone slabs under her feet.
The pool room was deserted, which was not surprising at this time of day. The water was quietly dancing in giddy reflections on the walls. The only sounds were those of the water lapping at the edges of the oval pool. Sanna walked towards the edge, took a deep breath and dived in head first.
The intense shock of the ice cold water paralyzed her for a few moments. When she had regained her orientation, she slowly started to swim to the other side, even though every fiber in her body screamed to get out of the cold water. Her heart raced and she felt her nipples stiffen. Ten seconds later she surfaced at the far end, gasping for air. With teeth chattering and limbs shaking, she pulled herself out of the water. Taking deep breaths of air, she tried to slow her heartbeat.
The corridor between the pool room and the steam room was warm now, the stone floor no longer cold.
This was probably the closest to total freedom that one could ever get, she mused: walking around buck naked without a soul to bother you. She made a mental note to try and find out whether there was any truth to the rumors about the Temple of Shilohin.
When she entered the steam room, the heat enveloped her like a heavy blanket. The air was heavy and laden with spices, prickling the airways. She lay down on one of the animal furs and watched the steam rise to the ceiling, where it escaped through an air vent. She stretched luxuriously and sighed.
Peace at last.
Cicely Dantzen would have to gossip behind her back today, as she was wont to do, Avital had told her. She smiled as she thought of the short, stout apprentice. They had spoken twice more during dinner since the start of her punishment. She decided she liked him. He was smart and he knew what he wanted. He disliked idle chatter, as she did, and preferred to be direct. As long as he sat next to her at the dinner table, Cicely kept quiet. Like herself, he looked further than the walls of the Temple. He liked to talk about people and places, the life he had had before he entered the service of Eesyan.
She still remembered his firm handshake. She wouldn't be surprised if the rest of him was as firm and muscular as his arm. Two years ago she had bedded a warrior trainee. The boy had been as green as grass, but he'd had an unbelievable stamina.
The corners of her mouth curled upwards as she thought back to those days.
Avital was probably more experienced, she mused.
The thought of Avital's sweaty body against her sent a wave of excitement through her. Her left hand slipped between her legs and grazed her inner thighs. Her left leg bent at the knee to give herself better access.
Sanna closed her eyes and gave in to the sensations. Her nails scratched her lips lightly, stretching her pubic hair. She smiled as Avital, before her mind's eye, disrobed and proudly showed his manhood, hard and pointing upwards. Her middle finger slid between her lips, which were already starting to get wet.
Her hands moved up and covered her breasts, twisting and pulling her nipples until they were fully erect. Sighing contentedly, she moved her right hand back between her legs to palm her kitten.
Avital was now kneeling before her, guiding his stiff rod towards the dark triangle of hair. She slipped her middle finger inside and envisioned Avital penetrating her with the full length of his shaft. She added a second finger and started to move her hand in and out.
A moan escaped her lips as the smooth motion sent waves of pleasure through her. She spit on the fingers of her left hand, spread her lips and moistened the area in between, where her little pearl of pleasure was growing. Her hips began to accommodate her invading fingers by lifting her buttocks off the fur at each downstroke.
She moaned again and bit her lower lip to stifle another; she couldn't afford to be caught. For a while she listened to the sounds of the room: the sizzling of the steam, the soft liquid sounds her kitten was producing around her fingers, coming in staccato rhythm, her own labored breathing and the sliding of her arms over her sweaty stomach and sides.
In between the flexing and unflexing of her most private muscles, she felt a tiny ball nestling itself between her thighs. She immediately went for it, eager to wash away her frustrations with a breathtaking orgasm.
Sanna sped up her movements, her hands moving frantically, climbing and climbing, grinning because oh it was going to be a big one, the ball swelling until it felt like a dam about to burst and Avital was inside her and moving faster and then she could no longer contain herself. She arched her back against her imaginary lover and, shuddering, she reached her peak.
"Unnh.. unhh.. unnhh.." she chanted through clenched teeth, her fingers pumping her sheath furiously, prolonging the agonizing pleasure for as long as possible.
Still trembling from exertion, she came down from her high. Slowly she removed her fingers and brought them to her mouth. Eagerly she licked her fingers clean. She'd always enjoyed her own taste and liked to think that was what had ultimately made her swing both ways.
She frowned slightly as she thought of Avital again. It was a damned shame that he was just an apprentice. They might have made a good couple. But however much she liked him, there was just no way she was going to wait until his advancement to Senior. She had to get out of this place sooner than that.
Much sooner. | 3 |
3,592 | Ohio | "On the way home from work," Julie says, flopping down sideways on the couch, talking to Pat over the back of it, and to me in the chair across the room, "on the way home from work, driving by the Home Central, there was this couple pulled off on the side of the road, a man and a woman, adjusting these big long boxes on the top of the car. She was standing in the passenger door, with one foot on the ground and one up inside the car, and I could see between her thighs. She was wearing these black corduroy jeans, and a tight black furry top that didn't come quite down to the jeans, and I could see a strip of her tummy, and I could see under the sweater her breasts, and her hair was short and black, and she was pretty."
"And...?" said Pat, stopping on the way from somewhere to somewhere to look down at her sister.
"And I don't know."
"You fell in love?"
"I always fall in love," and Julie pouted a little at Pat, and Pat smiled.
"What about the man?" I asked.
"Yeah, a man," Julie said, "I don't know some more. I'm feeling all girly right now."
"All dykey," Pat suggested.
Julie put out her tongue at her sister, and Pat leaned over and kissed her on her small pink mouth, and Julie closed her eyes and opened her lips, and I admired the curve of her neck as she tipped her head back further and Pat's tongue and lips caressed her face.
Later on, I was sitting on the couch by myself when Julie slid over the back of it and into my lap.
"Hi!" she said. I grinned at her. "Can I tell you a dream I had?"
"You're full of stories."
"Isn't it nice?" She put one hand by my head and played with my hair. She was wearing grey slacks and a loose white blouse. She smelled very good, very clean.
"Go ahead."
She sighed and leaned back, against the arm I'd put around her. Her body was small and warm.
"I was walking across this deep red carpet, like in a hotel. There was this really lovely woman in a black dress with sheer black stockings and wonderful legs, and she started to show me to a table."
"The hostess?"
"So, so pretty! We were holding hands, and we stopped under this like archway with these dark green plants, and I stopped and looked at the leaves dangling down into her hair, and she kissed me on the mouth. I was wearing the same dress and stockings that she was, and I looked down at our bodies and she kissed me again, and I almost fainted."
"In the dream?"
"In the dream. It was a real sexy dream! And there was this pretty boy named Michael I think and he was my server and I sucked on his nipples and I made him come."
"Lucky boy!"
She scrunched her face at me. I had been slowly unbuttoning her shirt, and now I opened the neckline and began kissing my way across the tops of her small perfect breasts. She purred.
"I sat at the table and I ate some WONDERFUL mushroom something, all dark and heavy-tasting, and I put my hand between my legs, and I touched myself."
I ran my tongue around and between her nipples and softly squeezed her flesh. She sighed and moaned softly.
"I was coming when I woke up."
She slid her hand down between her legs and cupped herself through her pants as I took one nipple between my lips and sucked gently.
We were all staying in a hotel in Ohio somewhere, for some reason or other. That afternoon, Pat was in the room playing with the kids, and Julie and I went out for a walk. It was slightly breezy and chilly, but Julie was showing her legs anyway, in a pair of short shorts and a loose sweater. We went out to the parking lot and looked around.
"Up there," she pointed, and she bounded across the lot, onto the grass border, and then onto a broad exposed rock on the side of the little hill that led up from the parking lot into a scrubby-looking wooded place. Just as I got up onto the rock next to her, she took off into the wood.
"Where are we going?" I caught up to her again on the top of a little rise, where she stood craning her neck and looking around like, I don't know, like an animal craning its neck and looking around.
"The lake's around this way somewhere," she said, and she was off again.
She was right, of course; we came out of the scrub at a cracked and deserted-looking road that ended a few yards later at a barrier by the edge of a small lake. Past the barrier, a short strip of land stuck out into the water, and on the end of it was a small building, one of those enigmatic square concrete things that are always sitting around locked and covered with graffiti. It was locked, and covered with graffiti.
Julie sprang over the barrier and walked out to the building. I stopped at the end of the road, catching my breath and looking at her. The wind from the lake tossed her hair around her face, and she looked very young. She went around the building, and when she had almost gone out of sight beyond it, she turned and looked at me. For a second we just looked at each other, with the wind blowing between us. Then she raised her arm and waved me over.
"There was a spot just like this at the reservoir when I was in school." She poked with her foot among the pebbles and bits of broken glass at the edge of the water, by a concrete slab that sat there for no apparent purpose. "Sometimes kids would come out and hang out, or make a fire, or make out."
"Did you?" I admired her legs. The wind quieted for a moment and I smelled her, standing next to me, smelled soap and shampoo and the sweet salty familiar smell of her sweat, her underarms, the soft hair between her legs.
She smiled, her eyes far away, and sat down. I sat beside her.
"I remember one time. This boy named Jeff and me had been having pizza with everybody at Rizotto's, and everybody but us sort of drifted away, and we were sitting there, and he said maybe we could go somewhere." I moved closer and put my arm around her, and she nestled into me, making a warm windless place between us.
"He was so brassy and boyish, and so shy at the same time.He took me up here, up there to the reservoir, and we sat down by the little building and sort of talked, but I wanted him to kiss me, and then he kissed me, and it was so nice...
Of course she turned her face up to me and of course I kissed her. She closed her eyes and kissed me back, lips together, soft maddening lips together, and I felt the heat of her breath on my face.
"We kissed each other for a long time, and he touched me." I slipped my hand under her sweater and squeezed one smooth warm breast. "Just like that, touching my breasts." I kissed her again, and she shuddered. "He was so nice. You're so nice." We kissed and caressed each other there by the lake, in the wind, for minutes, or for hours, no sound but the whir of the wind, the occasional plash of the water, the wet sounds of our lips, and soft panting breaths. My hand touched her knee as we kissed, slid upward and in, and she trapped my fingers there, in the tight smooth grip of her thighs.
"Oohhhh," Julie finally moaned, drawing a little away from me. "Would it destroy the moment completely if we fucked now?" And she slipped off her shorts, and opened my pants, and came into my lap and rode me. We came quickly and suddenly, our mouths pressed together, my fingers sinking into the flesh of her bottom and squeezing her against me as my semen spurted into her. She screamed quietly and joyously, and afterward she smiled a smile of heartbreaking innocence.
"I'm terrible, aren't I?" she asked, pulling her shorts up her moist and shivering thighs.
"You're perfect."
The End | 3 |
3,622 | Moon by LeAnna | "Yeah, I want to fuck you like an animal..."
I turned down the radio as I approached the house, creeping slowly along the street. I honked as I pulled into the driveway. The floodlights came on, illuminating the black night as I turned off the engine. The house was dark, except for a flickering light in a window. I frowned. Moon must have lit some candles--she must have planned a romantic night! My mouth formed into a slow grin as I imagined what tonight would be like. I got out and slammed the car door shut, striding to the door, unable to contain my excitement.
There was a note on the door and a small shoebox on the porch. Written in Moon's flowery pen was,
"Hello, darling. Please put on the dress and the heels in the box at your feet, and then come to my room. -Your Lover"
I bent over to pick up the box and made my way inside. The air was filled with a fragrant scent -- she'd cooked something, and whatever it was, it smelled delicious. My stomach rumbled as I closed the door behind me, pulling the cover off of the cardboard box. Inside was a black dress made out of a silky material -- it would feel nice against my skin. I gasped when I pulled it out to look at it.
It was absolutely gorgeous. It looked to be about floor length, if not a little more. It had spaghetti straps that flowed into a low scoop neck that would show a daring amount of cleavage -- perhaps as low as a few inches above my nipples. I wouldn't be able to wear a bra with this dress, and everything would be clearly visible because the dress was made to fit tight around my curves, cinching at the waist and hugging my hips gently before it draped all the way down to my feet. There was a long slit along the side beginning at my thigh and snaking along the entire length of the gown's leg. I whistled at the beauty of this dress and stripped off my clothes in a second, eager to put it on.
I slipped the dress over my head, reveling in the sensation of the cool silk against my skin. It made me feel sexy -- that was probably what Moon had in mind when she bought it. I found a pair of matching black high heels with hosiery in the bottom of the box, and I slipped my legs into the hose, pulling them up to my thighs, and then pulled on the heels. I looked into the living room mirror. I ran my hand through my hair self-consciously, wishing that I had a brush or something. I looked down at my outfit and smoothed the dress down over my hips, and started to walk down the hallway to Moon's room, swaying my hips slightly. I couldn't help it -- the dress made me feel unbelievably sexy and desirable. I felt as if my breasts were firmer and rounder, and I felt as if my thighs were longer. The slit in the dress swished against my legs, the fabric rubbing against me, making me feel even more naughty. I swayed my hips as I walked to Moon's room, reveling in the sensation of the smooth, fluid-like fabric flowing around my body.
The sound of soft music leaked through the door. I stood there nervously for a second before I turned the brass doorknob and opened the creaking door slowly, sticking my head inside. The entire room was illuminated by nearly a hundred candles, their flickering light reflecting on the walls. The candles were arranged strategically around the room, set up on the dresser, the bedside table, the floor, and the window seat. The romantic setting was enhanced by music playing faintly in the background -- slow, classical tunes.
There was a table in the middle of the room, about five by three feet, and covered with a draping white cloth. The candlelight flickered beautifully off of the tablecloth, the light and shadow dancing with each other against the white fabric. There were two candles on the table surrounding a blazing glass oil lamp. The table was set with two tall wine glasses and a bottle of burgundy wine, fine china dishes with steaming fettuccine alfredo and spaghetti with meatballs, split evenly in half along the middle of the plates. There were bowls and plates on the table with more food. My stomach rumbled and groaned in hunger as I inhaled the delicious smell of the meal Moon had prepared.
But that's not what caught my attention. What attracted my gaze, after looking at the candles and the table, was Moon. She had a shy smile as well as a long, sweeping pearl-colored gown. The neckline dipped daringly low, allowing me to see the curving edge of her supple breast. The sleeves of her gown ran down past her knuckles, ending in white lace. The gown followed the curves of her hips, hugged her body tightly and relaxed its grip as it ran down her leg. I nearly choked on my breath, she was so beautiful. Her hair flowed down around her, just the way I liked it.
The spell was broken temporarily when she moved towards me. Her eyes moved up and down my body, admiring my form. She smiled, her soft crimson lips parting slightly as she wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me close for a kiss. She caressed my waist slowly, and dropped her hand down to my ass, squeezing it lightly as we kissed. Her lips were soft, sucking my own with a gentle nibble, and her lavender scent was dizzying. I melted into her arms, wrapping my arms around her and letting her control our kiss.
We finally parted with a blissful sigh. She looked deep into my eyes and took my hand in hers. She looked down, running her thumb along my knuckles. I felt almost wanton, wanting to give my body to her right that instant. There was a damp spot on my panties that I could feel every time I moved or shifted my feet. She lifted her hand and bowed her head, and kissed me slowly on the back of my hand, her full lips wet from our kiss. I smiled at her, my knees and stomach growing weak. She lifted her head and wordlessly led me to the table. She pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down on the plush seat. She took her own seat across the table from me and we gazed at each other for a few minutes, her eyes smoldering with lust. I'm sure mine were, also.
She lifted a wine goblet, and I took the cue, lifting mine as well. The dark liquid bubbled inside the tall goblet. Moon cleared her throat and said softly, "This is to five months of love, and to well over a year and a half of companionship."
I smiled affectionately, looking straight at her. "It doesn't feel like five months to me. It feels like it was just yesterday that I walked into my room nude..."
She laughed, remembering. "Time flies when you're having fun."
I nodded in agreement.I brought the glass to my mouth, sipping the bitter wine slowly. She took a small drink from her goblet and set it down to pick up her fork and spoon.
"Moon, dinner looks just delicious. How long did you spend making it? This is all so nice..."
She blushed. "Honey, I'd spend days preparing you a dinner if I thought it'd make you happy. Not that long, but the rest of it..."
"Yeah. This is great, Moon. Thank you."
She dipped her head to deliver a steaming morsel to her mouth. I looked down and decided that it was about time I devoured my meal. I picked up a fork and speared the fettuccine with it, wrapping it around the prongs of the fork. When the hot food entered my mouth, I slipped off into ecstasy.
"MOON! This is wonderful!"
"Thank you," she replied, pleased. "There's more -- I've got enough for the entire family here. Plus some fry bread for dessert."
I groaned inwardly, knowing that I'd be bursting out of my dress by the time the meal ended. I took another slow drink of the wine and looked up at Moon. The light of the oil lamp flickered off of her face, creating long dancing shadows. She did look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I watched her, her lips parting to take another bite of food. Suddenly, self-consciously, I looked down and continued to eat my meal.
"So, can you believe we're graduating?" Moon asked between bites.
I shook my head. "Seems like forever yet seems like no time has passed since we were freshmen."
Moon laughed. "I'm glad to be getting out. I want to get out into the world, get a job, settle down somewhere. I wanted to go to college, but you know Mom can't afford to send me. And they say Native-Americans can get free college if..."
"Yeah, I know. Why don't you do that?"
She sighed. "We can't find any proof, any written documents. Both my grandparents are dead, and none of my aunts or uncles have anything. So, I guess I'm screwed."
I shrugged. "Not necessarily. If you save up enough money, you could. And there are scholarships and stuff. And you know I'd help you with money if I had any to spare, but I don't even know if I'm going to college now, because of..."
"Yeah. How much do you have saved up?"
Frowning, I answered, "About nine thousand dollars. That's barely enough to get me through one class for one year."
Her face was apologetic. "Your parents have all the money?"
I nodded. "My mother is still being a bitch, but if I talked to my dad I'm sure he'd pull the money out for me."
She set her fork down and reached for her goblet, taking another drink. "Why haven't you talked to him, then? I mean, your mom might be harsh, but he is on your side. I wish you'd at least take his calls... it has been a long time."
I felt guilty at her words, and deep inside my gut, I missed my father terribly. I looked down at my plate and shoved a big bite of spaghetti in my mouth, swallowing it in a large lump. Moon winced. "I'm sorry, we won't talk about that. It's your night, Janet."
I shrugged. "It's no big deal, really. I guess I should talk to him."
"Well, like I said, we won't talk about it. What do you think you'll do for the summer?"
I'd thought about moving out with Moon and getting an apartment with her, but I hadn't seriously discussed it with her, so I figured I would bring it up now. "Was thinking about getting an apartment with you, living close to downtown. That way I can keep our expenses low with gas because it's close to my job and probably will be close to yours."
She nodded slowly, a contemplative look on her face. "That's something along the lines of what I was thinking. I've got a bit of cash saved up, too. Are you going to get a new job for the summer?"
My head snapped up from surprise, and I swallowed the fettuccine quickly. "Why would I?"
"You said you weren't happy at that bookstore you're working at - what's the name of it? Jacoby's?"
I nodded. "Jocundry's. I'm not happy there, but I've got seniority. I've worked there for over 2 years, you know, so I might get a raise or even a small management position this summer."
"Yeah, but can you stand working eight to ten hours a day there?" I groaned loudly at her statement. "Shelving books and filing reports and filling out sales slips..."
"Enough!" I interrupted with a laugh. "Thought this was my night? Anyway, when are you getting a new job?"
She adjusted the oil lamp, tilting the shade over to the side. "I applied at the Saper Art Galleries downtown. I'm going to wait for them to call back before I apply anywhere else, though."
"That's a smart idea," I agreed. "So we'll be together this summer?"
She lifted her goblet up to me to toast. I clinked our glasses together, and she looked at me with soft eyes, smiling. "We'll always be together, Janet. I love you more than anything. I know I don't say it much, but it's true."
I flushed, a warm feeling growing through my body. I leaned closer to her, putting my forearms on the table, and whispered, "Moon, you're the only one for me. You're the only one forever. I love you too, and you don't need to tell me you love me often, because you show it to me so many ways. I mean, look at tonight. You must have spent hours preparing this for us."
Her lips grew in a wide smile. She reached out and took my hand in her warm hand, her fingernails digging into me slightly as she shifted it. I squeezed her hand tightly, and my heart swelled slightly. I could feel my love for Moon radiating throughout the room, and she could feel it too. We just sat there for a few minutes, holding hands, and looking at each other with smoldering lust in our eyes. An impulse overtook me. I considered it for maybe a second, thinking about the ramifications of what I was going to say, and then discarded all my concerns. I brought Moon's hand to my mouth, kissing it. She chuckled and wriggled in her seat, leaning closer to me.
"Moon, will you marry me?"
Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open in shock. After she sat bewildered for a second, she snapped her jaw back up and her mouth widened in a huge grin.
"Oh, Janet, of course I will!"
We both stood up at the same time and rushed to each other. I enveloped her in a tight hug. Tears of joy filled my eyes, and they overflowed as I buried my head in Moon's shoulder, kissing her and choking words of love. She sniffled, too, and held me tighter.
"I know it's a little unconventional, but..."
Moon shushed me, whispering into my ear, "We'll talk about it later. Let's just enjoy the mood now."
I laughed and lifted my hand up from around Moon to wipe a tear off my cheek. We stood there, holding each other, for about five minutes. Finally, I broke free of the embrace to give her a light kiss on the lips. She wrapped her hands around my waist, pressing her body against mine, as her lips grew more needy and hungry for me. I surrendered to her insistent kiss, my hands finding her waist. I slid my hand down her waist, feeling her firm, warm skin through the silky opalescent fabric. I trembled just the slightest, moaning quietly into Moon's mouth when she ran her hand up my body and cupped my breast. I arched my body into her hand in response, and moved my own hand to her stomach, feeling the soft pad of flesh briefly before dipping my hand low to her mons. I stroked her pubis gently, working my way slowly down to her clit. I massaged her clit slowly, feeling the hard nub roll under my fingertips. She gasped at the touch and kissed me harder, her fingernails digging into my arm.
I pushed her towards the bed, lowering her supple body onto the soft mattress. She scooted up, laying her head down onto the pillow, and I got up on top of her, pulling my skirt up so I could straddle her lower stomach. She put her hands on my buttocks, squeezing my cheeks in passion. I ground my pussy against her just a little bit, and leaned down to kiss her again. She lifted her hands from my ass, and moved her hands to my breasts, squeezing them before taking hold of the spaghetti straps of my gown and pushing them down past my shoulders. I sat up for a moment, shaking the straps down past my arms, and the dress became a silk heap around my waist. I frowned and got to my feet, bending my knees so I wouldn't fall over on the mattress. I lifted my arms, crossing them, and then took grip of the spaghetti straps and carefully lifted the gown up over my head. Then I tossed it over the side of the bed, letting it fall on the floor. She smiled at the sight of my nude chest and slim-cut panties, and reached up to my bare nipples, her nimble fingers massaging them with excruciating slowness. I gasped and sank down into her arms again, my skin rubbing against her silken dress.
I kissed her again, letting my tongue dart out to taste her lips before I left her lips to kiss her on her neck. I nipped at the swell of her neck, my wet lips caressing her warm skin. She moaned deep in her throat, her rumble of pleasure reverberating into the skin of my lips. I worked lower, licking and kissing the hollow of her neck between where her shoulder blades met. I followed the curve of her shoulder, and then returned to my original path. Her fingers tightened on my nipple, and she sighed blissfully when I kissed her on her upper torso. I stopped there -- I had to, her dress was still on. She cupped my breast and lifted her head up to kiss me on my neck. I pulled away from her, urging her body up with mine. I reached my arms around her and found a zipper, pulling it down with a zrrrrrp! sound. She swayed her body from side to side, letting the dress slip down around her waist. She also wasn't wearing a bra, and I touched her stiff nipples longingly. I lifted my body up from hers so she could push her waist up, allowing her to push her dress down past her hips and kick it off uninhibited.The dress flew across the room as I dove down, kissing her with an eagerness and passion driven by the slow buildup of the past few hours.
I fondled her breasts gently, feeling the soft curve of her full breasts, reveling in the way the curves sloped out quickly and met at the puckered nipples. I dropped my head down to her chest and put my mouth on her hard nub, running my tongue around the circumference of the stiff tip. My fingers teased her stomach gently, working their way slowly to her pussy. She groaned again and put her hands on my head, pressing me harder to her areola. I clamped my teeth down on her nipple, suckling it greedily.
"Oh, Janet... Touch my pussy..." she breathed, her voice laced with desire. I did as she bade me, running my fingers down her fleshy, bare mons. I nibbled at her breast one last time before leaving it to travel west, kissing and nibbling along her chest. I let my lips wander down her belly, licking her teasingly. She moaned as I let my wet tongue probe inside her belly button and travel still lower. I opened my mouth wide and devoured her mons, letting my tongue flick back and forth. Her moans were louder now, and she thrust her groin up at me, her body begging me to continue. I rubbed her clit softly, letting the slow fire I knew was burning inside her build as I licked and sucked at her mound, getting closer and closer to her clit. She writhed in pleasure beneath my tongue, her moans loud and insistent.
I licked at my fiancée's hot clit, the dizzying aroma of her pussy making my own damp. I let the tip of my tongue tease her clit, flicking it back and forth, when suddenly I let my tongue go off of the end of her button into her lubricated slit. I moaned softly when I tasted her sweet nectar. I made the tip of my tongue rigid, and slipped it into her slit. I worked my tongue up and down, slowly massaging her. When I'd reach her pussy hole, I'd start to force the tip inside. Moon would moan and grip my head tighter, and I'd relax my tongue and leave her hole, continuing to massage her slit.
"Oh, God..." She wailed when I let my teeth cover her clit. I rubbed her clit between my teeth and ran my tongue along the tip. I made my lips form an O around her clit and sucked softly, with a rhythm that matched the bucking of her hips. With each thrust she made, I'd intensify the suction that my lips made, until finally, she shuddered and shouted my name out. Her legs went up into the air as she lifted her body up off of the bed, sitting almost straight up. Her head was tilted back and her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she went into convulsion after convulsion.
"Oh, Janet, oh God, oh, ohhhhh.."
Her cries grew weaker and her body lowered to the sheets, inch by inch, until she finally collapsed, her mouth still open and her eyes closed. I licked her cum from my lips, savoring the sweet taste. I lifted my face off her, and moved up on top of her, straddling her again. I could hear her breathing hard through her mouth. She gave one last groan before she rolled her head to look at me. There was a satiated smile on her lips, and she lifted her arms to pull my body down for a kiss. Her tongue flicked out on my lips, tasting her cum. The kiss only served to make the warmth that was spread through my belly heat up drastically, and I moaned into her mouth, thrust my pelvis against her body. I wanted her to know how much she turned me on.
She drew away from me, and ran her fingers through my hair. She kissed me on my cheek and whispered into my ear, "I love you, Janet."
I smiled. "I love you too."
She nibbled and sucked at my ear and released her fingers from my hair, letting her hands drop down to my thighs. "I've got a surprise for you, Janet..." she said in a seductive voice. "I got it at the strip club outside town."
My excitement mounted, and I ground my pussy against her once more. "I'm intrigued."
She giggled. "Open the bedside table middle drawer.. no, the other side... Yeah. It's in the shoebox."
I rummaged through the drawer for a few seconds, frowning when I didn't find what I wanted. Suddenly, my hand hit cardboard, and I lifted the lid off the shoebox. Inside was a pair of... black rubber panties?
I lifted the panties, and a dildo fell out. I moved my hand to catch it, but it hung suspended in the air. My eyes narrowed in puzzlement until I realized that it was a strap-on dildo, attached to the panties. My jaw dropped, and I widened my eyes in realization.
"Oh! Moon!"
She gave me an evil smile and reached up to tweak my nipple. "It's a trip, isn't it?"
I nodded. "Hell... this has been a fantasy of mine for so long. How did you know?"
She shrugged. "I figured you'd be interested in exploring that particular avenue. Besides, I wonder myself what it's like to have a beautiful girl riding your 8 inch cock."
I erupted into helpless laughter, and couldn't stop. I said, giggling between words, "Ok, hang on, I'll put it on."
I started to get up off of her when she stopped me, pulling me down close to her. She kissed me hard, and said, "No, I'll put it on. You deserve an orgasm after what you just did to me."
I leaned down again to brush my lips against hers. Her tongue licked my lips, and I relaxed my body against hers, savoring her sweet taste. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close as she kissed me. Her hand moved up to rub my nipple. My flesh hardened against her palm, and I groaned, arching my body against her. She broke the kiss, urging me to move up, and I did. When my breast was in range, she covered it with her mouth, her tongue soft and relaxed against my stiff nub. She swirled her tongue around my entire areola and I felt the heat at my groin intensify suddenly. I gasped and pushed my pussy against her mound, my clit undulating against her firm body. Her mouth was gentle and soft, slowly drawing me into the warmth of advanced arousal. My mouth was open and my breathing hard, and I uttered a slow moan as I felt her hand travel down my stomach and mound, and her fingers find my clit and rub it with excruciating slowness.
She drew her hand away from me when I uttered lustful sounds, and her lips left mine. She sat up and took the rubber panties and dildo that were still clutched tightly in my hand from me. I rolled off of her so she could put them on. She slipped them over her feet, and pulled them up to her hips, wriggling and squirming to have them on all the way. Finally, they were on, and I couldn't help but laugh when I saw them. A hard plastic cock protruded proudly from her sex. It was nearly nine inches long and two inches thick. Rivulets and veins ran along it, meeting at a mushroom head at the tip. I rolled over again to kneel between her legs, and reached out to touch it. The dildo felt smooth and cool under my fingers, and I shivered to myself when I thought of how it'd feel plunged into my depths, being driven in and out by Moon. Smiling teasingly at her, I licked my lips and leaned over, kissing the dildo, and slipped its mushroom tip in my mouth. She put her hands on my head, her fingers weaving in my hair, as I slid half of the dildo's length in my mouth, bobbing my mouth up and down on it. I traveled up to the head, running my tongue around the tip quickly before letting it fall out of my mouth.
Scooting up to put my breast in her mouth again, I felt her put her hands on my ass as she accepted my nipple. She made her mouth into a tight O ring and sucked my nipple with an unerring rhythm, and then she moved her hand down to my pussy. Her fingertip brushed against my clit, and a shiver of electricity passed through my body when she pressed against it and moved her finger from side to side, massaging it. She let her finger travel to my slit, and a slow sigh of bliss escaped my mouth when she swirled her finger in my wet juices. I gripped her nipple between the fingers of one hand and squeezed the dildo in the other. She slid her fingertip into my pussy and nibbled my nipple harder at the same time, and I moaned her name.
I felt as though I were on fire, and I twisted against her, trying to get her to finger me harder. Without warning, she took her mouth off my breast and removed her finger from my twitching hole. She held my hips with her steady hands, pushing me up slightly. I understood what she wanted, and straddled her, the dildo pressed between our bodies. I pulled apart my pussy lips and spread them across the dildo, groaning at the pressure that it gave my bare sex. She gripped my ass tightly as I slid back and forth on the dildo. She caressed me, squeezing my breasts and running her palm over my mons, before she reached under me and tugged at the dildo. I lifted my body up and she held the dildo up at full mast, positioning it at the entrance of my love tunnel. I gasped, leaning over to take Moon's nipple in my mouth. The hardness of the nipple only inflamed my desire as she slid the dildo inside me. I pushed myself down on it, eager to take all of it into me. She rocked her hips upward, the dildo working in and out of my pussy with every thrust. I groaned, the sensations of the dildo pushing against my bones and stretching my skin working together to push the pleasure, which had been building for the last hour, closer and closer to the edge of orgasm.
She moved her hand up from the base of the dildo to my clit and played with the hard nub of need. She massaged me, moving her finger from the edge of my clit at my snatch's entrance to the edge of my clit at the bottom of my mons. Her fingers worked back and forth as she drove her piston inside me, until finally she bottomed out inside me. I sat there for a few minutes, my pussy clutching at the hard mass inside of me. I tilted my head back as I started to ride her with a slow rhythm, accumulating speed with every harmonized thrust we made.Her mouth was open, and she was breathing hard, turned on by my gyrations. Shock waves of pleasure coursed through me as her digit worked harder at my clit and the dildo pushed into me deeper.
"Oh my god, Moon..." I cried, squeezing my eyes shut as my orgasm thundered closer and closer to me.
She fucked me harder, slamming her hips against me, and squeezed my ass cheeks as she moved me back and forth on her. Suddenly, the world exploded in pleasure, and I screamed as my orgasm overtook me. My body stiffened, and I arched my back, gasping her name. I was so absorbed in pleasure that I couldn't rock back and forth on the dildo, so she did it for me, synchronizing the thrust of her dildo into my pussy with the thrust of her finger against my clit, flying me to higher plateaus of sweet orgasm. Finally, my trembles and shudders ceased, and I felt the fire drain out of my body in the same manner that the juices from my orgasm were trickling out of my body.
I gave a moan of post-orgasmic pleasure, soft and long, and collapsed into her arms. Her hard breathing tickled my ear, and I turned my head to kiss her on the cheek. Her face was beaded with sweat, and I realized that our bodies were slippery with the moisture from the heat of our lovemaking. I listened to my heart pound in my ears as she wrapped her arms around me and whispered into my ear that she loved me, and we fell asleep that way, our bodies one.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke, my body still mounted on top of hers and the dildo still embedded deep inside of me. I sat up on her and withdrew the dildo from my pussy, shivering slightly at the sensations that it made as it rubbed against my walls on the way out. She stirred and opened her eyes sleepily, stretching against the blankets. I admired her smooth body in the dying candlelight -- only a few of the candles were still alight, most of them burnt out as their wax had been melted away.
"What you wake up for?" she murmured, tugging at my forearms.
I leaned down, and she kissed me, her hands running down my body, pausing to squeeze my flesh in a few select areas. Her lips were warm in contrast to the cool breeze that wafted in from the window and washed over our bodies. It was silent, the only sound being the soft chirping of crickets in the night.
"My fiancée," I whispered to Moon, kissing her again. She smiled and turned on her side to face me, stretching her arms and legs. She took my hands in hers and held them close to her, pressing them against her chest. She bent down to kiss my forearms.
"How are we going to do this?" she whispered, her eyes wide.
"I don't know. I've never been to a lesbian wedding," I replied, frowning. "I'm not sure how we'd arrange it."
"I have," she whispered back. "My aunt, when she remarried. They did it like husband-and-wife style, with my aunt dressed in a tux and my aunt's wife dressed in a gown."
I laughed. "So who's wearing the tux?"
"I want to wear a wedding dress," she replied, looking deep into my eyes, almost asking my permission to wear a gown.
"You can wear a dress, hon, that's no problem. I'd like to wear one too, though."
She lifted her head up, a broad grin taking over her face. "We can both wear one."
"Okay."
We lay in silence for a few minutes, looking at each other. I released her hands and reached up to cradle her face, stretching my neck to kiss her.
"Janet?"
"Yeah?"
"You don't think we're too young?"
I didn't answer for a second, then I opened my mouth to speak. "I don't think so. We're 17, but we're graduating next week, and we'll be living together on our own, so..."
She frowned, her big brown eyes searching mine. "I'm kind of scared. It won't be legal, and your mom will refuse to go."
I sighed and drew her close to me, holding her to my chest. "It'll be all right. I love you. Everything will work out fine."
She snuggled closer to me, letting me comfort her. A thought occurred to me. "Moon?"
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Were Iris and your aunt like... officially married?"
"Not legally. I guess they considered themselves married in spirit. They were together for 11 years."
I frowned, doing the math. "Your mom and dad have been divorced for 13 years."
She nodded in response.
"And your mom and aunt have been separated for...?"
"Two years."
"Oh. So your mom was with her before she left your dad."
"For a year."
I started to giggle, and said between titters, "I can just imagine Iris saying, 'Hey honey, I'm divorcing you, would you like to meet my new fiancée?' and your dad saying, 'That dirty bastard! I'll...'"
Her face grew dark as she followed a distant thread of thought to the edges of her mind. "My dad fired a shotgun at my mom when she divorced him."
I winced. "Oh. He wasn't happy."
"He was drunk."
She had a gloomy look in her eyes for a second, and then shook it off with a chuckle. "He's always drunk." I laughed with her uneasily and squeezed her arm, offering my reassurance.
"I don't really believe in divorce, so if I was your dad, I would have been like, 'I'll let you go on _one_ condition... Ménage à trois!' You know, might as well get as much out of it as you can!" I joked, nuzzling her nose. She grinned at me broadly.
"There's an idea."
"What?"
"Threesome."
I frowned, the corner of my mouth betraying my mask of indifference as it trembled upward into the beginnings of a laugh. "You want to have a threesome? Why? Men are disgusting," I joked.
She blushed and darted her eyes away from mine. "Never mind."
I rolled the idea around in my mind, tasting it and feeling it in my brain. "Maybe. I heard that they can fuck up relationships."
"Just forget it," she whispered to me, pulling a tendril of hair toward her face. I followed, and her lips greeted me in a giving kiss. I forgot about it as she moved her kiss to the edge of my mouth, letting the gentle moistness of her full lips caress me where my mouth met my face. Her breathing was soft and steady, and the slow rhythm calmed me.
I caressed her slowly, letting my hand run over the slopes and hills of her body. She shivered slightly in my arms, and I reached down past my ankles to pull a thick quilt that was folded at the foot of the bed over us.
Underneath the blanket, I pulled at the band of the rubber panties that rested on Moon's waist, and she helped me pull off the strap-on dildo. Her skin was hot and sweaty where the panties had been, and I ran my hand along it, feeling the abnormal smoothness of her skin. I laughed softly in her ear and nibbled the lobe. She sighed and stretched her body along mine, kissing me along my jawbone. I could hear the soft swelling rhythm of her breathing, and I rolled off of her to put my head on her chest just above the swell of her breast. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, and if I listened hard, I could faintly hear her heart beating. My eyes fell closed as the steady beat of her heart faded into my subconscious, and we slept holding each other until the next morning. | 4 |
3,631 | Ghostlight | "Meg! It isn't working! You need to fix it!"
The costume mistress walked over to the 19-year-old actress as she tugged at her bodice. The seams were about ready to give and still weren't providing any support. "She's an awfully buxom girl to be playing Kate in 'Taming of the Shrew,'" Meg thought. If Meg had known that's what the director was looking for, she would have auditioned herself.
"I can't have my dress fall apart on stage, you have to have it done by tomorrow!" the girl demanded.
"We still have a week until we open, I'll get it done when I get it done."
Meg's voice was a little sharp, and the director's head popped into the women's dressing room.
"Is everything okay in here? Meg, when can we expect that dress done?"
"I'll work on it tonight," Meg answered in a resigned tone. "If I leave now, the fabric store might still be open. I need to buy more boning to reinforce the bodice."
"I don't want this to be uncomfortable, can you make it so it's more comfortable?"
The costumer glanced at the director, holding the biting retort at her lips. "Meg would turn into the shrew in this show if she wasn't careful. Actors!"
"I'll do what I can, Amber."
When Meg returned from the store, the actors were gone and music filled the theatre as the technical crew took over. The lighting crew was behind because the original lighting designer, who the director discovered was incompetent, quit the show and Jason was called in to start from scratch. Community theatre can be that way. Jason was on the board of directors and had been with the theatre since high school. He was a classic techie-- quiet, lanky, rumpled. And Meg wanted him. She was always turned on by competent, unassuming men.
The costume mistress looked around and found the lighting designer of her fantasies perched on a tall ladder, focusing an instrument.
Meg shouted to the ceiling, "Hey Jason, how late do you think you'll be tonight?"
"I don't know, midnight.. one.. I'd like to get as much done as I can tonight. How about you?"
"Well, if you're going to be here... I'll stay as late as I can. I don't want to be here alone."
"Aw.. I'll leave the light on for you... They don't call it a ghostlight for nothing!" Jason proceeded to make scary noises, "Buwahahahaha!"
"Oo, I'm so scared! Protect me Jason! I'm sooo helpless!"
"You're helpless? Yearite, Meg! You're gonna give me a boner talking like that!"
"Bite me, Jason," Oh please, let me give him a boner, I know just what I'd do with it, thought Meg. Just hearing Jason use the word 'boner' in front of her got Meg's pussy clenching. At the same time, though, her heart was sinking. Jason was just fooling around, and Meg didn't have a clue how to make her feelings known.
She climbed up to the dressing room and took Kate's gown off the rack. Meg had bought some heavy duty elastic as well as plastic boning to reinforce the bodice. The woman sighed, realizing she'd be best off taking it apart and starting from scratch. Why the director insisted that Kate/Amber go braless was beyond her. Also, if she could convince Amber that she was a DD, not a C cup... Meg was the same size as this girl, she knew what she was talking about. Hmmm... Meg was the same size as the young actress... Meg could fit the bodice to herself, which would save a lot of time... She let out a sigh of relief, the world wasn't out to get her after all. The costume mistress got to work.
It was about 12:30 that night when Meg finished the bodice. She hadn't yet sewn it to the skirt, Meg wanted to make sure it fit first. She looked outside the dressing room and all was dark, except for the ghostlight. Meg felt another stab of disappointment, Jason had left. The purpose of the ghostlight, usually a bare bulb on a tall stand, was to illuminate the stage so that the last one to leave or first one to enter does not step off the stage and into the orchestra pit. He did say he would leave the ghostlight on for her. Oh well, she thought, I'll manage. Meg considered whether she wanted to continue working or go home. Jason would have locked up, she was safe there...
Meg pulled her sweatshirt over her head and unhooked her bra. There was no need to take off her jeans, since she was only fitting the top. As she walked over to the makeup counter to pick up the garment, the door opened.
"Oh god, I'm sorry Meg! I should have knocked, I was just .. uh .."
Meg for a moment was just so thrilled that Jason hadn't left, that she merely turned and hugged his lanky frame, not even bothering to cover herself with the stiff fabric in her hand.
"You didn't leave me here alone! Oh!.. um.. I thought you weren't here, I'm just fitting this... I saw just the ghostlight, so I thought..."
Meg realized what she had done and pulled away from Jason, trying to cover herself. She felt the heat rise in her face as she tried to turn away. But this was the dressing room, full of mirrors, Meg couldn't escape Jason's image. Jason tried to hide a smile.
"I set up the ghostlight as soon as everyone left. I was in the lighting booth, did you really think I would just leave you here?"
Meg felt herself melting at Jason's voice, "I guess not. I'm sorry."
Jason looked puzzled, "Sorry? For what?" The tall man grinned, "If you're fitting that, aren't you supposed to put it on?"
"Bite me, Jason," Meg snapped, "It's been a long day."
"I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone."
"No wait! Uh.. I'm going to need someone to lace me up... please?"
"Sure, you want me to turn around or something?"
"If you would."
Meg would have loved to have been more bold and let Jason watch, but she was never the type to throw herself at a man. It's not that she didn't have exhibitionist fantasies, she was in theatre, for Pete's sake, but Meg wouldn't do that with a man of whom she wasn't absolutely certain. The young woman laughed, she'd probably get laid a lot more often if she did. Meg slid her arms into the sleeves and pulled the bodice up onto her shoulders, slipping a hand down the front to bring each breast up and out. She looked at herself in the mirror, the bodice looked ridiculous while it was unlaced. Her breasts were not going to stay up long with just the friction against the fabric to hold them up.
"Okay Jason, you can turn around."
"So what do I do?"
"It's just like lacing a new pair of Converses, just start from the bottom."
Meg watched Jason in the mirror as he began to thread the laces through the metal eyelets, a look of deep concentration on his face. Her lower back was very ticklish and she tried to take steady breaths to avoid involuntary shudders from Jason's touch. Meg's groin began to ache and she felt a liquid ooze between her legs. Jason tugged on the edge of the fabric, grazing callused knuckles across Meg's back, shudders cascaded up and down her back.
"You okay?" Jason asked.
"Ticklish," Meg was finding it difficult to breathe.
"Am I making this too tight?"
"No, it's supposed to be this way, you could probably go tighter."
"I don't want you to pass out."
"If I did, it would be historically accurate," Meg laughed.
"You want me to do something?"
Take me, right here, on the floor! Meg cried out in her head. "Rub my back, with the flat of your hand, to get the tickles out, please?"
Jason stepped closer, Meg could feel the heat of the man's body, his breath on her exposed neck.
"Maybe I don't want to get the tickles out, maybe I like them where they are," Jason smiled, but didn't look back at her in the mirror, but appeared to be looking at her shoulder.
"It's up to you, I guess," replied Meg. Jason looked up and their eyes connected for a moment, and he looked down.
"I'd better finish lacing this up for you... it's getting late."
Fuck! I blew it, Meg thought. I don't know how, but I blew it.
"Wait, let me do some adjusting before you strap me in all the way."
Jason stood back and Meg slipped her hand into the front of the bodice, lifting her breasts and arranging them so that they were 'lifted and separated.' Jason got an amused look on his face.
"Do all women adjust themselves like this?"
"I don't know about all women, but I have to, or I'd look ... well ... lumpy. Okay, you can finish lacing me up."
So finally, she was strapped in, just like the scene from 'Gone with the Wind.' Meg moved and jumped and twisted, making sure that nothing would pop loose when Petruchio tamed Kate. Jason watched. Meg felt the electricity again, knowing that Jason stayed and watched."Well, it looks like it works. That's a relief, do you think you can help me take it off?"
Jason didn't answer, but very carefully untied the laces. Meg felt the heat again as he stood behind her. She wasn't sure if it was the running and jumping or Jason that made her breathe heavily, but her breasts were heaving over the tight bodice. Jason's hands stopped for a moment, and Meg watched him in the mirror as he looked down at her. The look was unmistakable, and Meg felt her nipples crinkle against the stiff boning. Jason's hand touched lightly at her waist as his head dipped down. The man behind Meg kissed her neck just below her ear, smelled her hair... and returned to unlacing the damned bodice!
"Forget the bodice!"
"No, it's late..."
Meg wanted to cry. She wanted him so badly, and he was going to slip through her fingers. Meg let her head droop and her shoulders sag, indifferent to her nakedness as Jason lifted the bodice over her head. She picked up her sweatshirt as he put the historical garment on a hanger and replaced it on the rack with the other costumes. Meg began to pull the sweatshirt over her head.
"What are you doing?" Jason asked.
"You said it was late..." Meg replied.
"It is late... Oh," Jason smiled. He tilted Meg's chin and looked into her dejected little face. "Do you know why I didn't let anything happen?"
"Because you don't want me?"
"Because I didn't want to destroy the bodice. Same reason that sex is forbidden in the lighting booth. You would have hated me in the morning. Forgive me?" Jason slipped a hand underneath Meg's sweatshirt, taking one full breast in his grasp.
Meg wrapped her arms around Jason and kissed him deeply.
"Bite me, Jason." | 4 |
3,658 | Into Care Part 2 | "Strip, boy, or do you want Joe to hold you while Matron takes your clothes off for you."
Hastily, Nicky removed his clothes and then stood to face the principal. He made no attempt to cover himself with his hands. He remembered how such demonstrations of modesty had annoyed Brian, and he assumed that Mr. Adams would be similarly affected.
"Fold those clothes up neatly, boy. This is my study, not a rubbish dump."
Watched by the three adults, Nicky had to kneel on the carpet and tidy his clothes up. When he was back on his feet, Mr. Adams turned to the Matron.
"It is my intention to give this boy twenty-four strokes of the cane, twelve this evening and twelve tomorrow morning. In your professional opinion, Matron, is the boy in a condition to take twelve strokes now?"
"He's a perfectly healthy little animal, Principal. In my opinion, you could safely inflict all twenty-four strokes on him now. But you are always very kind to the boys."
"I think, Matron, it would be as well to postpone half the punishment until tomorrow morning. It will give the boy something to think about overnight. It will keep his mind clear of unhealthy thoughts."
Mr. Adams took a cushion from one of the easy chairs and placed it at one end of the desk.
"Now, over the end of the desk there, boy. Bottom right up in the air. I want the skin nice and taut. Put your hands out along the desk. Matron, if you would be good enough to hold the boy's hands. Thank you."
"Now, boy, you can see how considerate we are here at Ovingdean House. Most people, when punishing a boy, require him to remain in position until the end of the punishment or face having the beating start from the beginning again. But I know very well that I'm going to hurt you so much that you would not have a chance of staying down by yourself. You should be very grateful to Matron for her kindness in holding you in place. Again, it is usual to require the boy to count the strokes and to say 'thank you, Sir' after each one. I don't require you to do that because I know that long before I've finished thrashing you tonight, all you will be capable of doing is feeling pain and perhaps screaming."
Nicky lay across the desk, his bare bottom raised and taut, ready for the cane. It was a position with which he was all too familiar. His dad and, increasingly, his mum had often required him to offer his bare rump for punishment. But although the position was a familiar one, the terror and humiliation he now felt was altogether greater. He loved his mum and his dad, even if he had come also to fear them a little. He knew that they cared for him and that they hurt him because they cared for him. They had told him so often. Sometimes they hurt him a great deal, and he would cry and whimper as the cane raised weals across his bare flesh, but even as he suffered, he knew that when the punishment was over, he would be forgiven. He would be cuddled and comforted. His tears wiped away. His nose blown and wiped clean.
This time was different. These people cared nothing for him. Mr. Adams was going to beat him, not because he cared about him, but because he thought of him as an animal to be tormented, hurt, and broken. Joe had been cruel and unjust to him on the journey down, and he was sure would be so again. As for the Matron, with her strange, unfeeling, staring eyes, who had looked at him as though he was not a life-feeling creature but a slab of meat, he knew he would look in vain for cuddles or sympathy from her.
He felt the touch of the cane against his bare flesh. He tensed. Mr. Adams was measuring his distance. It would not be long before he began.
"Hold that boy's hands tight now, Matron," the Principal ordered.
The cane hissed down and cracked across Nicky's unprotected flesh. The pain drove the breath out of his body. He fought for air as the man stood over him, waiting for the spasm to pass.
A second time, the cane slashed down. Nicky screamed as the pain tore through him. Another pause.
"You always make them scream really loudly, Principal," Matron remarked admiringly.
"Yes, I want his cries to be heard all over the building. It has a good effect on the other boys."
The beating resumed. The sound of wood striking bare flesh, the screams of the tortured boy, the drumming of his bare feet on the floor as he leapt and writhed in his agony filled the room. Mr. Adams worked his way steadily from the top of Nicky's bum downwards to the top of his thighs, each stroke placed neatly parallel to the preceding one. At last, the beating was almost over. The man stood back to admire his work. He was, as he often remarked, a craftsman and took a pride in a job well done. The boy's backside was covered with bruises, scarlet blending into deep red and deepening to purple and dark blue.
Slightly changing his stance, he delivered the final two blows diagonally across Nicky's already ravaged flesh. The boy's screams reached a fresh crescendo.
"I doubt if there's a boy in the place who didn't hear that," Mr. Adams said with satisfaction.
Matron let go her grip of Nicky's hands. The boy sank sobbing to the floor at Mr. Adams' feet.
"Joe," Mr. Adams said briskly, "get that disgusting little animal out of here. Put him in the reception dormitory."
"Matron, I want him here tomorrow morning at nine-thirty sharp to receive the balance of his punishment."
Joe grabbed Nicky by his arm and hauled him to his feet. He half-marched, half-carried the whimpering boy from the room, across the great hall, through a green baize door, and along a dark, cold corridor.
He stopped outside a plain wooden door with a heavy metal bolt. He swung it open to reveal a small, windowless room that smelled strongly of stale urine. On its stone-flagged floor was a thin mattress with a couple of brown, grubby-looking blankets. The only light came through the open door.
Joe pushed Nicky down onto the mattress and roughly spread the blankets over him. Without a word, he turned and left the room. He slammed the door shut, leaving the boy in total darkness. Nicky heard him shoot the bolt home.
Nicky lay there, crying quietly. Perhaps the man was right. Perhaps it was all his fault. Perhaps he was an evil, wicked boy. Why else was he here and been treated so cruelly? "How my bottom hurts," he thought, and then, "I've got the same again tomorrow." He cried with redoubled vigor.
Nicky was awake. Huddled in the blankets, he could feel the mattress damp underneath him. He had no idea what the time was.
The door swung open, and daylight filtered into the squalid room.
"Come on out of there," Joe shouted. "You've got an appointment with Mr. Adams in an hour, and you've got to be cleaned up before then."
Joe came right into the room and wrinkled his nose.
"God, you are filthy little animals, the lot of you. Come on, dirt, get up when you're told."
The man kicked the mattress on which Nicky lay.
The boy pulled himself painfully to his feet. Joe grabbed him by the arm above the elbow, gripping him so hard that he cried out.
Once again, Nicky was marched along a series of comfortless corridors. Every now and again, they met young boys, all dressed in the home's uniform of thin T-shirt and shorts, all appearing cowed and frightened, all pressing themselves back against the walls to allow Joe to pass.
Eventually, they went down a flight of concrete steps into a large room. Down the center stood a double line of baths, while along both walls were a series of showers.
Joe switched on one shower and pushed Nicky under it. The boy gasped as the hot water stung his skin. Joe produced a block of soap that smelled strongly of disinfectant and ordered Nicky to clean himself up. The man stood watching as the boy soaped himself down.
"And your bottom too, pig shit," he ordered.
"Sir, please, Sir, it's sore," Nicky pleaded.
"'Sir, please, Sir, it's sore, Sir,'" Joe imitated the boy's voice derisively. "It's going to be a bloody sight sorer in short order, and it'll be sorer still if you don't clean it up. Mr. Adams won't tolerate a boy who presents him with a dirty bottom for punishment. Now, come on - or do I have to get in there and clean it for you?"
Gingerly, the Nicky obeyed.When at last Joe was satisfied, he took the still damp boy back through the house. They passed through the clean baize door, and Nicky realized he was back in the hall where he had first entered the house the previous evening. It was a vast room, dimly lit by mock gothic stained glass windows set high in the walls. In a line along one wall, next to the door to the Principal's study, stood half a dozen boys. All stood facing the wall, hands by their sides. All wore the regulation Ovingdean House T-shirt and nothing else. Some of their bottoms Nicky could see seemed to be unmarked, but most bore the marks of recent beatings.
As they approached, the boys remained staring at the wall, although Nicky thought he detected a ripple of apprehension pass along the line.
Joe led the boy to the end of the line furthest from Mr. Adams' study.
"Stand there, face the wall, don't look round. Matron will be here in a few minutes, and then the fun will begin."
He landed a hard slap with the flat of his hand on the boy's sore rump, causing Nicky to squeal.
Eventually, Nicky heard the sharp clip of a woman's leather-soled shoes approaching. Two of the boys began to cry. He cowered against the wall, his gaze fixed resolutely forwards. Matron passed him without pausing.
"Stop that stupid caterwauling," the Matron ordered as she went into the Principal's study. "You will all have plenty to cry about soon enough."
A minute or two later, she came back out into the hall.
"All right. Into the study and line up facing the desk."
Mr. Adams was standing by his desk, the cane in hand. Nicky noticed the pillow was already in its place on the edge of the desk.
"First boy, step forward."
A dark-haired boy from the far end of the line came forward to stand beside the desk. He moved slowly and clumsily, as if only partly in control of his limbs. Nicky could see even from where he was standing that he was trembling.
"Sims. Principal," the Matron said, reading from a black notebook she held in her hands. "Sheets found to be stained this morning."
"Abusing yourself, eh? Filthy little beast. All you boys are the same; just animals, animals the lot of you; no brains, no self-control, nothing. Well, I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget. It's no good trying to appeal to your conscience, to your sense of right and wrong. You boys are trash, you don't have consciences. You can't tell the difference from right and wrong. But you've got backsides, and I'm going to write such a lesson on your backside that you'll remember it to the day you die."
"Please, Sir...it was an accident, Sir."
"It was self-abuse. If I say it was self-abuse, it was self-abuse, you insolent brat. I shall give you twelve strokes now and twelve strokes this evening."
"Matron, make a note. See that Sims is here again this evening for twelve further strokes."
"Get down, boy."
"Matron, hold Sims tight. I'm going to flog him hard."
Nicky watched, horrified, as Mr. Adams raised the cane high over his right shoulder and brought it crashing down across the boy's defenseless bottom with sickening force.
The cane rose and fell with remorseless regularity as the boy's shrill screams increased in volume and urgency.
Nicky glanced down the line of watching boys. Fear, horror, and excitement marked their faces.
At last, Sims's flogging was over. The sobbing boy was sent back to stand in line with the other lads. One by one, the boys were called forward to suffer the consequences of their juvenile faults. Running in the corridor, loitering in the corridor, idleness, slovenliness, impertinence - none seemed too serious. All were punished by beatings of the utmost ferocity as Mr. Adams labored at his self-appointed task of seeing that the agonized screams of his victims should penetrate to the furthest recesses of Ovingdean Hall.
Finally, it was Nicky's turn once again to bend down across the desk and feel the cruel bite of the rod. Numbly, he moved forward.
"Ah," Mr. Adams said. "While I always prefer to see the results of my handiwork as a beating proceeds, there are occasions when aesthetic considerations have to give way to practical ones. I do not wish, on this occasion, to split the skin of this boy's bottom. Matron, soak a napkin in cold water and spread it over the brat's rump. That should prevent my bloodying it and will not appreciably diminish the pain that it is my intention to inflict on him."
Nicky started at the feel of the cold, damp cloth against his bare skin. Mr. Adams measured his distance carefully. Nicky tensed himself in readiness for the first cut. He knew there was no escape and no point in pleading for mercy. All he could do was to suffer, and suffer he did. He soon ceased to be able to distinguish between the pain of the different strokes as the cane cracked down across his bottom. All he was aware of was an agony that seemed to consume his whole body. Vaguely, as though at a great distance, he heard the sound of his own screams echoing in his head.
Then he heard Mr. Adams saying "Get up, boy" and found himself being pulled to his feet by Matron.
"Boys," Mr. Adams said, "that is all for the moment. I hope you are all duly grateful for the time and effort I have spent trying to teach you obedience and respect for your betters. I have no doubt that I will be obliged to give you all similar lessons again in the not too distant future."
"Sims, I would remind you that you have another appointment with me this evening."
"You will all now go immediately to your appointed duties. I will personally flog any boy who is caught loitering."
"Matron, I believe you have a further procedure to inflict on that brat you're holding."
"Dismissed."
The whimpering boys jostled each other in their eagerness to escape from Mr. Adams and his cruel cane.
Matron led Nicky to a door marked "Sick Bay". Inside the room stood a uniformed policeman.
"Good afternoon, Sergeant Nicholls," Matron said.
"Afternoon, Matron," the man replied. "This is the new boy, is it? I heard you had a fresh boy here, and I just came down now to have my usual word with him."
"Well, Sergeant, I was just about to complete his induction process. You know we like to see the boys have all their sordid outside associations destroyed before we admit them fully into the community. We want them cleansed physically and, if at all possible, mentally. This boy has been bathed, and now it is time to clean him out internally. If you would wait just a second while I administer the enema, you can talk to him while he holds it in. You won't take more than five minutes, will you?"
"No, not more than five minutes. I must say, the efforts you and Mr. Adams and the other staff here make to bring discipline and control into these boys' lives always impresses me. It must often be a thankless and difficult task in view of the low caliber of the boys."
"Yes, sweepings of the gutter is what we get here," the Matron said grimly, "invariably mentally, morally, and physically degenerate. Take this one, sent here for protection from his father, but you know what that really means - the brat's a natural little whore. Led the man on."
As she was speaking, Matron busied herself placing things on a small table that stood by an armless, hard-backed chair. A strange syringe-shaped object with a metal nozzle, a jar of Vaseline, and an enamel bowl which she filled with warm soapy water. She pulled on a rubber apron and sat down on the chair.
"Come here, you," she commanded Nicky. "Face down over my knees. Quick now. Legs apart. Relax, would you. I'm quite prepared to do this without the Vaseline if you don't co-operate. It won't hurt me."
"Now stay like that. For heaven's sake, what a fuss. In it goes. There we are."
"Now back on your feet and listen to what Sergeant Nicholls has to say to you, and don't let a drop out till I say you can, or it'll be another session with Mr. Adams and his cane."
She tipped Nicky back onto his feet. She smiled as she saw the boy, no doubt feeling the pressure inside him, clench his little bottom as tight as he could.
"Right, boy," the Sergeant said ponderously, "I just want you to know that we all round here fully support Mr. Adams in the way he runs this home. You boys are all delinquents and need strong discipline, and I'm glad to see from the bruises on your bottom that you've had a taste of that already. Why are you fidgeting about, boy?"
"Sir, please, Sir, I want to go to the toilet, Sir. Please."
"You'll have to wait until I have finished speaking to you. Now, let me see, where was I? Ah, yes. Don't think you will get any help or sympathy if you come to us with any complaints about your treatment. If any boys complain - and boys have been foolish enough to do so in the past - we simply inform Mr. Adams and leave him to deal with the matter. I don't think any boy has complained more than once. Do you know of an instance, Matron?"
"No, I do not, Mr. Nicholls. Do stop fidgeting about like that, boy. Pay attention to what the Sergeant is saying."
Matron noticed that Nicky was now holding onto the back of his bottom with both hands. She smiled to herself. This was the part of the induction process that she always found the most entertaining.
"Furthermore," the policeman continued, "should you run away from this place, you can be quite sure that you will be caught and returned to Mr. Adams. Even if you get outside my police area, the police force that does finally apprehend you will return you to us, and we will pass you on to Mr. Adams. Do you understand, boy?"
"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, can I go to the toilet now, Sir? I can't hold it in much longer, Sir."
"You'll have to ask Matron, boy. That's her business, not mine."
"Matron, please, Matron?"
"Yes, go on.""Use the toilet over there," Matron said, indicating a doorless cubicle in a corner of the sick bay.
As Nicky dashed towards it, he heard the two adults laughing at him.
"Come on out of there," Matron called after a couple of minutes, "this isn't a holiday camp."
She had ready for Nicky the shorts and T-shirt which formed the uniform for the boys of Ovingdean House.
"Could you do me a favor, Mr. Nicholls?" she asked as the boy hastily dressed himself. "Take this boy down to the lodge and hand him over to the Head Gardener. He's to start off working for him."
"Matron, please, could I have something to eat, please?" Nicky whined. "I haven't had anything since... Ow."
The woman landed a ringing blow on the side of his head with her fist.
"You talk when you are spoken to and not otherwise," she snapped. "You'll get some food when you've earned it. The rule here is no work, no food. Now please take him away, Mr. Nicholls, before I get really rough with him."
Half an hour later, Nicky was busy weeding a rose bed. Anyone looking at him would have thought that he had accepted his fate. But as he worked between the bushes, he was trying desperately to think of a way to escape. All he could think of was to get to a telephone. If he could do that, he could telephone his Dad, he knew their home number off by heart, and he was sure Brian would come and help him. But he hadn't noticed a telephone anywhere in Ovingdean House. Almost certainly, there was one in Mr. Adams's study, but he didn't think it was likely he would find a chance to use that. He just had to wait, try to keep out of trouble, and keep his eyes open.
Brian was sweating. It wasn't the heat, although the small office was warm enough with the three men crowded into it. It was fear. He couldn't understand what was happening. Perhaps, on reflection, he had been a little too rough with the two boys, but he had never done anything else but discipline them. He liked them both, but it was no more than the perfectly proper affection that a father felt for his sons.
"I tell you," he said desperately, "I never touched Nicky in that way."
"And I tell you, Mr. Roberts," Detective Inspector Samson replied grimly, "that we have two independent medical reports that state Nicky has been sexually assaulted over a long period of time. If it wasn't you who was responsible - who was it?"
"The other boy? Adam," Brian suggested reluctantly.
"No boy did what's been done to your stepson," Dr. Butler said.
"Look here, Mr. Roberts," the policeman said, leaning forward and speaking earnestly, "I'm not pretending we have a cast-iron case against you. If we did, we would not be having this conversation. You would be in the cells awaiting trial. For one thing, Nicholas will not say who has done these things to him. However, the circumstantial evidence is strong, and if you give us no choice, we will prosecute."
"If we do and fail to get a conviction, your reputation will be tarnished. I think it unlikely that your wife would be able to stand the heat, and we would anyway see that Adam was put on the at-risk register, so that you and she, if she remained with you, would be subject to constant supervision. That is the best-case scenario from your point of view."
"If we succeeded in our prosecution, you would face a prison sentence of about six years, and paedophiles do not have a pleasant time in jail. Again, I would think it likely your wife would leave you. You would certainly lose any contact with Adam. Furthermore, when you came out of prison, you would have to place your name on the sex offenders register, and we in the police would keep a close watch on you and would consider it our duty to inform your neighbors wherever you may move of your conviction, as under the law we are authorized to do."
"Our primary interest in this case is the welfare of your stepson. It seems clear to us that it is in his own best interest that he is removed from your care. In view of the comparative weakness of the case against you, we are prepared not to prosecute if you will give us your written agreement to his being taken into care."
"I just haven't touched the boy in that sort of way," Brian said unhappily.
"Mr. Roberts," Dr. Butler intervened, "if you did not abuse that boy, somebody else did. That boy knows you are under suspicion, but he chooses not to clear you by naming that other person. There are two points I would put to you. First, in that event, would it not be as well to get Nicholas away from whoever is abusing him, and since we do not know who that is and he will not say, would not the sensible solution be to have him taken into care? Second, if he prefers to protect the man who is abusing him to clearing you from a very grave suspicion that could lead to you spending a considerable time in prison, do you really want to risk your liberty and reputation to bring him back here?"
"It just sounds so unlike Nicky," Brian protested. "Well, I did not abuse him, so someone else did. As you say, perhaps it would be best for everybody if he is kept away from here. Where's that document you want me to sign?"
"It simply says," Detective Inspector Samson explained, pushing a single sheet of A4 across the desk to Brian, "that you accept that Nicholas's best interests are served by his being taken into care. It in no way incriminates you."
It was Brian's intention to sign the paper with a flourish and storm out of the office. Like so many dramatic gestures, it didn't quite come off.
"Can one of you lend me a pen?" he asked.
Nicky knelt on the damp earth, his knees and hands caked with mud, his fingers and bare feet numb with cold. It had been raining for a long time. Precisely how long Nicky did not know, for he had lost track of time. His days had become a long round of hunger, exhaustion, abuse, and fear.
He heard footsteps behind him. Since it had begun to rain and the boys had had their plimsolls taken away from them to avoid them getting spoiled, footsteps meant only one thing: staff, and staff meant, unless you were very lucky, bullying and blows.
The footsteps stopped just behind him. He did not dare to look round, to do so would be to invite trouble. So far as he could judge, there were two people standing there. He continued to work at turning the earth between the rose bushes with his trowel. His work was simple and heartbreaking. For days now, he had been weeding this flower bed. He had worked his way from one end of it to another over and over again. He hated and resented every second he spent there groveling in the damp earth, but he did not show it. He nursed to himself his plan: to get to a phone and to call his Dad, and took comfort in his absolute certainty that his Dad would come and save him.
"That's the boy," a vaguely familiar male voice said behind him.
"He's pretty dirty," another man spoke.
"Just mud. They'll clean him up before he's brought to you. Want a closer look? Boy, you boy, come here."
Nicky pushed the trowel into the ground and stood up. Two casually but warmly dressed men sheltering under a large golf umbrella stood on the gravel path looking at him. One of the men he recognized as being the doctor who had examined him at the police station. He moved closer to them and stood facing them, his hands by his side, his head slightly bowed.
"Well, what do you think?" the Doctor asked.
"Quite nice, I suppose," the second man replied. "I must say it's handy how the rain makes his clothes transparent.""No need to have the brat strip in order to see everything he has to offer."
"Yes," the doctor agreed with a laugh, and then to Nicky he snapped, "Turn round, boy, now quick."
Nicky obeyed. He knew better than to show any of the resentment he felt at being made to stand shivering in the rain as the two men inspected and discussed him from the shelter of their umbrella, although he felt the humiliation keenly.
"I think he'll do," the second man said.
"Good, good. Well, get back to your work now, boy. Quick now," the doctor snapped. | 4 |
3,686 | My Life - In a Nutshell | "I had never seen a guy's dick before," started Mia.
"Oh, this is good," said Devon. Jennifer gave him a dirty look. I rolled my eyes.
"Shut up, Dev, or you're not going to get the rest. Anyway, I woke up around 6:00 AM because I was suddenly very cold. Our buddy Cal here had stolen the blanket, and there was a wind howling in through the window. The blinds were crashing around and everything, and this big lug is happily sleeping away, wrapped up in the entire comforter like a little baby."
"Be nice," I said.
"So I go over and close the window – there's rain coming in – and climb back into bed. I was still freezing, so I decided to steal the comforter back. After a couple of minutes of tugging and him going, 'cut it out,' I managed to steal the entire thing back from him. So now, he's the one shivering. Then I fell asleep again."
"Blanket thief," I muttered.
"Shut up. About an hour later, I wake up again. He's kicking me."
"I still don't believe you."
"Who's telling this story? I made him stop though."
"How?" asked Jennifer.
"Kicked him back. Square in his ass. He stopped," said Mia with an evil grin. "Then he rolls over and tries to steal the comforter back."
"I was probably cold," I said.
"Whatever. Anyway, I wouldn't let him have it, but he's rubbing up against me, trying to stay warm or something. I noticed he had a hard-on, so I decided to investigate."
"Ha!" snickered Devon. | 3 |
3,701 | 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 | 3 |
3,711 | Deja Vu | "Connie, honey, wait!" Johnny called out as he leapt off the couch after her. "I'm sorry, I got a little carried away! Please don't go!"
The words were coming out of his mouth as fast as he could think of them. He wasn't really aware of what he was saying. Anything to keep her from getting dressed and walking out that door. With his hands on both her shoulders, he began to lightly stroke her arms and pour on the charm.
"Why should I stay?" Connie asked him as she looked into his bright blue eyes.
Johnny looked deep into her eyes as well. He could see the combination of lust and anger reflected there. It was like a scale perfectly balanced on the edge. His next words could cause her to go either way. He had to say the right thing or lose her forever. She was that angry.
"I'll tell you why..." He said after taking a deep breath. "Because next month, the Bluecoats are going to get an audition with RCA. And if they sign us, and I really think that they will, then we'll be on our way. Then it'll be you and me, right to the top. 1956 is going to be our year."
"Oh Johnny!" Connie gushed as she dropped the pile of clothes and threw her arms around his neck. She covered his face with kisses and kept telling him how much she loved him and how happy she was going to make him. How she was going to stand by him every step of the way and when he won that first gold record she would be standing right next to him.
Returning her kisses and playing with her breasts, Johnny considered trying again to get her to try it with her mouth. He wanted it so badly. She was so excited that she might change her mind. But he finally decided to take what he was sure of getting. If he got that recording contract like he was sure they would, then there was no way she could refuse to try it then. If not, then there were sure to be lots of other girls on the way to being a star.
"I want you Connie," Johnny panted. "I want to love you, I want to love you right now."
"Oh yes, Johnny." Connie babbled on. "I want to love you too. I want to be with you forever, I want to be with you now!"
Johnny eased Connie to the floor, atop the soft pile of her clothes. She suggested that they move to the bed to be more comfortable, but he said that he didn't want to wait a moment longer. Her panties were gone in a flash and he parted her legs. Looking down, he got his own first good look at the small dark triangle he had lusted after for so long.
Johnny could feel Connie tense up as he laid on top of her and positioned his hard cock at the entrance to her pussy. He shifted his weight and she eased up a little. Moving to the bed now seemed a good idea but he couldn't stop now. The bed would be good enough for a second try.
Connie grunted a small cry as he forced his cockhead between the lips of her maidenhood. Despite her previous lubrication, it still hurt as the membrane began to stretch.
"Don't you have to wear something?" Connie suddenly asked, now immensely aware that however slightly, he was now inside her. "So we don't make a baby."
"Don't worry about that," Johnny said reassuringly. "You can't get pregnant the first time, didn't anyone ever tell you that?"
Connie thought about it for a second. True, her mother hadn't actually sat down with her and given her "The Talk", but she and her girlfriends had talked about guys and sex a lot. She remembered Tina Marie once saying that she had once heard that too. Also that she should make sure she drank a lot of coca cola the next morning. Something about it preventing babies too. After all, Johnny wouldn't tell her that if it wasn't true. And even if something did happen and she somehow did get pregnant, it wasn't a problem. Johnny and her were in love. They'd just get married.
"Oh yeh, sure." She replied as she ran the name Mrs. Connie Coravelli over and over in her head.
Another jolt of pain shot through her as Johnny pushed forward a little harder. This time, Connie bit down on her lip. She didn't want Johnny to think she didn't love him enough to do it. The pain eased up as Johnny slid his cock back. Then ripped through her like a hot iron as Johnny grabbed her ass and thrusted forward as hard as he could.
Connie yelled at the sudden pain as she felt her hymen rip. Tears formed at the edge of her eyes, born both of pain and happiness. Despite the hurt which was already fading, she was now a woman.
Freed from the barrier of her virginity, Johnny began to pump in and out of the young woman as hard as he could. He put such force into each thrust that he lifted her ass off the floor each time. He could feel his heart racing like a jackhammer as his breath began to come in shallow gasps.
"Oh God, you're so tight!" He yelled as he drove in her once again.
Laying spread open on the floor, unsure what she should be doing while Johnny pushed in and out of her, Connie couldn't help but wish he had yelled out something more in the lines of how much he loved her. She also felt that she should be doing something other than just laying like a piece of meat for his satisfaction. But no one had ever discussed that with her. She had assumed Johnny would guide her, yet except as an object to satisfy his raging lust, he now seemed almost oblivious to her presence.
Eventually, even as she just laid there, Johnny's persistent thrusts began to feel pretty good. It had started as just a nice feeling that had replaced the initial pain. Now it resembled a rising tide that brought waves of delight washing over her body. It resembled the feeling she got when she played with herself, yet at the same time it was different. Still, it was getting better with each passing minute.
Suddenly, Johnny stopped and his body seemed to stiffen. He uttered a loud groan and Connie felt a new sensation between her legs, centered in her new womanhood. She really didn't know how to describe it, but she was sure it had been the result of Johnny's having climaxed.
A thought that was confirmed was Johnny slid out of her and rolled onto his back. He wasn't even looking at her, just staring up at the ceiling.
"That was so great," He said.
"That was it?" Connie asked herself. "That was the great IT?"
The young girl, now a woman, felt a great sense of disappointment. She couldn't believe it had been such a letdown. It hadn't even been as good as when she masturbated.
"Maybe it's just because it was the first time," She said to herself as she sat up. "That must be the reason why. It couldn't always be like this."
"Oh what a mess," Connie said as she looked down and saw Johnny's now limp cock covered with a mixture of cum and blood.
"What?" Johnny said as he too sat up. "Oh gross!" He exclaimed as he saw his blood smeared cock.
Grabbing the first thing he saw on the floor, Johnny began wiping his cock clean. It overtook a moment for Connie's bright white panties to become a blood-stained rag.
"Hey!" Connie cried out. "I need those."
But it was too late as Johnny wiped himself once again with the only clear part.
"Sorry," He said sheepishly.
"Forget it," Connie replied, the tinge of disappointment still in her voice. "I have another pair in my purse.
As she grabbed her bag and the pile of clothes off the floor and headed for the bathroom, Connie was sure her mother never considered this situation when she always told her to carry an extra pair of panties in her purse in case her period came unexpectedly.
By the time she had finished cleaning herself up in the bathroom, Connie had reconciled herself to her rather uninspiring first time. True, it had fallen far short of what she thought it would be, but what was done was done. The important thing was that she and Johnny were going to be together. And in just six weeks he was going to have a recording contract and they would be on their way.
"Johnny, would you be a dear and get me my shoes and socks over by the couch," She called out from the bathroom. Her voice had a sort of instant maturity to it.
Johnny handed her the shoes and socks as she walked back into the living room. He really hadn't cleaned up, he just pulled his pants back on.
"Are we going out tomorrow night?"Connie asked as she slipped on her shoes, trying so hard to act as if losing her virginity was the most natural thing in the world. Something that happened every day.
"I don't think so," Johnny said rather evasively. "There's going to be a special about Rocky Marciano's retirement on tomorrow night. All the guys were going to go over to Vito's house to watch it. His family just got a television."
"That's okay," Connie said. "We can always go out later in the week."
"I think we're going to have to play it by ear right now," Johnny said with a forced smile. "I'm really going to have to spend a lot of time with the band over the next couple of weeks. What with the audition and all coming up. We want to be at our best, right?"
"Sure, right," Connie replied cautiously.
For the first time, Connie now noticed the quirk in Johnny's voice. Was something wrong? Had he found the experience as disappointing as she had? Had there been something wrong with her? Was there something she should've been doing to have made it better? But he had said it was great. She was considering asking him right out what was wrong but couldn't bring herself to do it. It was silly she knew. After all, look at what they had just shared, the most intimate thing a man and woman could share. How could asking a simple "what's wrong" be so hard?
In her heart, she knew the answer. It was because you were afraid of the answer.
Before she could steel herself to ask the question she knew she should, the lights of a car pulling into the driveway flooded the room. It was followed a few moments later by the beep beep of a car horn.
"It's my brother picking me up," Connie stated. "I asked him to when you told me your car would be in the shop. But he's over an hour early."
"That's okay," Johnny said as he pulled his shirt back on. He didn't want Connie's big brother to see him without it when he walked her to the door. As athletic as Johnny was, big Jim Esposito outweighed him by 60 lbs and was a star halfback for State. He didn't want to think about what that bruiser would do to a guy who'd just fucked his 16-year-old little sister.
"Hi Jim!" He called out as he and Connie stepped out the door into the driveway.
"Hey there, Johnny!" Came the reply as he waved. "Looks like I wasted the trip," He added as he pointed to the green Ford in the end of the driveway.
Johnny's eyes followed Jim's pointed hand until they came to his car just sitting there. He had forgotten that he'd told Connie that his car was going into the shop. Nothing was wrong with it, but he had figured saying there was would make sure they spent the night at his house rather than going out.
"It turned out to be a quick fix," Johnny replied. "Looks like I lucked out."
"Hey, if you want to take Connie home, I don't mind," Jim offered.
"No, it's okay, you're here and all," Johnny countered.
Connie looked at him in renewed disappointment. If he had driven her home it would've given them a chance to talk. Now she couldn't even do that.
"I'll give you a call as soon as I can, okay?" Johnny said to Connie as he leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"Okay, sure," Connie replied, now even more confused by his platonic action. "And it better be soon," She thought to herself because we definitely have to talk."
With that, she ran to the car where her brother was waiting with the door open. Connie stared at Johnny while Jim closed the door behind her and walked over to the driver's side.
Watching Jim get into the car and put it in gear, Johnny thought Connie might have found his goodnight kiss a little strange. But there was no way he was going to let her suddenly throw her arms around him and give him a lover's kiss. Not when that might leave her big brother with exactly the right impression.
Looking out the back window as the image of Johnny standing in the driveway faded in the distance, one thought repeated over and over in Connie's mind. They were definitely going to have to have a long, long talk.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Oh Johnny," Connie murmured as she opened her eyes and took in her surroundings in a half-daze.
She realized that she had fallen asleep in her chair. The morning light was already filtering in through the windows. It was already Saturday morning.
Wiping the last of the sleep from her eyes, Connie looked down at the picture in her lap. It had been a long time since she had dreamed of that night.
"We never did get to have that talk, did we, Johnny?" She said to the image of her long-lost love.
No, they never did.
Four weeks after that fateful night, Connie was devastated when it was announced that Johnny had married Susan Marziatto. She'd seen Sue hanging around the band at several performances. They went to the same high school and were only five months apart in age. Seen the way that flat-chested hussy had looked at Johnny and the other Bluecoats, like a lost puppy.
At the time, she couldn't understand how Johnny could've done that to her. How could he have betrayed her love and married such an unremarkable girl as Sue.
Six months later, she had her answer with the birth of Mario John Coravelli. Sue had been three months pregnant when they'd been married. The birth of their son also closed the final chapter for Johnny and the Bluecoats.
Johnny Coravelli had made many mistakes in his 19 years, but none greater than knocking up the daughter of Jim "The Banker" Marziatto. The local hood may have been forced to accept Johnny into his family in order to preserve his daughter's honor, but having his reluctant son-in-law continue as some god-forsaken Rock N' Roller was too much for the old Sicilian.
Within two weeks of the wedding, Johnny was informed that he was now working for the family's legitimate lumber business. Given the option of several broken limbs or giving up his career, Johnny had made the choice that kept all his body parts intact. It had been made clear to the young man that now that little Sue had a wedding certificate and a last name to go with the baby, a live husband was no longer an important consideration.
Johnny's marriage had lasted less than two months after they buried the old man in early 1960. By that time, Connie was herself the mother of a sixteen-month-old son, having married Vinnie D'Angelo in 1958. Like Susan Marziatto, she had raced the stork to the altar.
Unlike the Marziatto's, The D'Angelo's had a happy marriage that lasted 24 years. A life Connie wouldn't have traded for a room full of gold records.
The chimes of the wall clock struck eight, and Connie rose from her chair. Time to start the day. Leaving her mementos where they lay, she tied the sash of the bathrobe she had been wearing the night before and headed for the kitchen. A quick breakfast of coffee and muffins followed. Her daughter Angela had once suggested that Connie should think about hiring a woman, someone to do the cooking and housecleaning. But Connie had quickly put a stop to the idea. She was far too independent and set in her ways.
After clearing the breakfast dishes, Connie headed for the master bathroom for a quick shower. She was about to turn on the water when she changed her mind. Her back hurt a little after spending the night in that chair. A bath would feel better than a shower. She had plenty of time, the guy from the agency wasn't due until after lunch.
Five minutes later, Connie eased herself into the oversized sunken tub that had been a birthday gift from Vinnie many years ago. The heat of the water felt good as it penetrated her body. The tub was wide and long enough that she could stretch her whole body out.
After a few minutes of just soaking, Connie began to wash with a large bar of perfumed soap. The hot water felt good as it splashed across Connie's breasts. She ran her soapy fingers across her large mounds, playing with her nipples. As always, it felt good.
Connie slid the bar of soap down between her legs and began rubbing the wet mound. Letting the yellow bar float free, she slipped a finger inside herself, uttering a soft moan as she did. A second finger followed, and then a third. Soon she was furiously pumping them in and out. While the warm water and her fingers caressed her love canal, her thumb played against her clit. Four decades of familiarity with her own body bought her quickly to the edge of bliss.
The 54-year-old leaned back against the soft plastic cushion built against the head of the tub, her eyes closed, lost in the moment. Her thoughts again began drifted back to that warm June night 39 years before. Of love lost and desire unfulfilled.
It wasn't long before Connie's body began to tremble as her orgasm was upon her. Her mouth formed a silent O as her legs and arms grew weak and repeated waves of delight rippled up and down her naked form.
For long moments, she just drifted there, even after her body quake had ceased. She just listened to the twin sounds of her heartbeat and the gentle flow of the water as it bounced off her. Those first moments after an orgasm were meant to be relished. As Connie had grown older and come into her sexual prime, she discovered that her climaxes had become more and more intense. Even now, years later, they still were.
Eventually, the water began to cool, and Connie lifted herself out of the tub. Dripping water, she stepped up and out of the marble tub and onto the carpeted floor. She retrieved a large batch towel from the wall bar and began to dry herself.
Enjoying the sensation of the soft cloth against her nipples, Connie stopped for a moment and took a long look at herself in the bathroom's full-length mirror.
For a woman of 54, Connie D'Angelo had little to complain about as far as her body was concerned. 5'7", she still weighed pretty much the same as she did after Angela was born.Oh, there were certainly more wrinkles, but far fewer than she had seen on other women of her age. Her large breasts sagged some, but that had to be expected. It wasn't like she expected to be a firm, trim teenager all her life. In fact, the extra pounds she had gained over the years gave her a more full-figured look that she actually enjoyed. Her nipples were dark and attractive against her very white skin, as it had been many years since she had sunbathed topless. Her stomach was reasonably trim, with her weight distributed pretty evenly around her body.
In fact, if someone had to guess her age by just looking, she didn't think she was being too egotistical by thinking they would say mid to late forties.
In fact, the only thing that the woman really disliked about the image reflected back to her was the grayness of the small triangle between her legs. Once, many years ago, she had let one of the more discreet beauticians attempt to color that gray as well. Her skin in that area had proved to be much too sensitive and had produced a small but painful chemical burn. That had been the end of that idea.
There had also been a time when she considered shaving it off completely. Then that idea also flew out the window when she saw a 50-year-old at the spa who had done just that. Connie decided it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever seen - a grandmother looking as bare as a pre-teen girl. The final compromise had been to just keep it as closely trimmed as she did now.
Finishing drying herself off and taking care of her daily toiletries, Connie walked into the bedroom, still stark naked. That was one of the advantages of living alone; she didn't have to worry about such things as false modesty.
The weather report had called for another warm day, rising up to the mid 80s. From the warm breeze coming through the large bay window, Connie figured they were being conservative in their prediction.
Selecting a light sundress and laying it out on the bed, Connie reached into her dresser for a clean bra and panties. The panties were white and rather plain, but these days she selected them for comfort rather than how they looked. Not that she didn't have a few special pairs in the bottom drawer that she saved for special occasions.
Like the panties, her bra was designed more for function than form. But surprisingly, it combined the best of both. When she donned the light green dress and looked in the mirror, she had a very ample view of the valley between her breasts.
"Might as well give young Mr. Ross a good view," she laughed.
A noise from outside the window drew her to it, and she looked down into the backyard. Standing there among a pile of patio blocks and sand was a rather tall, tanned, muscular young man. He was stripped to the waist and clad only in a pair of cut-offs and sneakers.
From the look of the patio, the boy must've come earlier while Connie was in the bath, and, getting no reply to the bell, gone right to work. She had to admire his dedication. The work looked like it was almost finished.
"Well, I'd better get down there," Connie thought.
She stopped by the kitchen, making a large iced tea. If that young man had been working out there in the hot sun for any amount of time, she was sure he'd appreciate it.
"Good morning!" she said as she stepped out the back door onto the patio.
The dark and curly-haired young man reacted to her voice and turned. A wide smile filled his face. Taken aback by his youthful, sweat-covered form, it took a second for Connie to realize she knew the worker.
"Hi there, Mrs. D'Angelo," he said, his smile growing broader.
"Jack?" she replied, surprised to see the face of Jack Marziatto.
"I hope I didn't wake you with all the noise," Jack said. "Ross got sick and asked me to take his place. I was glad for the work. The only thing was that he forgot to tell me what time he was supposed to come by."
Connie didn't hear a word he said. She was too busy looking him over from head to toe. It was almost like Johnny had come back to life, new and improved.
"So I took a chance and came by about nine. When I got no answer, I figured you might be sleeping in. So I started work and tried to keep it as quiet as possible."
Jack stopped when he realized that Mrs. D'Angelo was staring at him. He wondered if she was angry because he had started the work without talking to her first.
"Mrs. D'Angelo?" he asked.
"Oh, sorry," Connie replied, snapping out of her fog. "You were saying?"
"I said I hope I didn't wake you."
"Oh no, of course not," she said, her face genuinely beaming. "I admire a young man who gets right in there and gets the job done. And from what I can see, you're just about done already."
"About another hour or so," Jack answered. "I was just about to take a little breather."
"Oh, this is for you," Connie said, finally remembering the iced tea in her hand. "When I saw you out here working, I thought you could use it. Unless you'd like a beer or something?"
"No, iced tea is fine," Jack said as he took the glass. "Thank you."
Connie watched in fascination as he drained the tall glass in one continuous gulp. A small drop of tea splashed across his chin. She watched, enthralled, as it slid down his neck and continued across his well-developed pecs.
"That was good, Mrs. D'Angelo," the athlete said as he drained the last drops and handed back the glass. "Thank you again."
"It was the least I could do," Connie replied. "Tell you what, since you're probably going to be here about lunchtime, why don't I fix us both a little something? That is, if you don't mind eating with an old lady?"
"That'd be fine," he replied as he held the shovel in his hand. "And I'd hardly consider you old. In fact, when Jenny introduced you last week, I was really surprised that you were her grandmother."
"Oh, really," Connie laughed. "Let me guess. You thought we were sisters, just like that old TV commercial."
"Well, no," Johnny answered. "Actually, I thought you might've been her mother. The way the two of you had been chatting and all. You definitely don't fit the image of what most people think of as a grandmother."
"I'll think you're a talented liar," she retorted. "But I'll take that as a compliment just as well."
Connie grinned, showing that she hadn't been serious about him being a liar. True be told, she was very flattered. She had been only 38 when Jenny had been born; she could've been her mother. In many ways, she had been.
"Well, let me let you get back to work," Connie concluded and headed back into the house.
Jack had watched her walk back across the patio to the kitchen. Thankfully, she hadn't noticed him checking out her tits. The college boy had always had a fascination with large breasts, and the fact that this pair belonged to a woman a great deal older than him really didn't make a lot of difference.
Most of the guys back at the Gamma Tau Ceti fraternity wouldn't have thought there was something really weird about that. After all, who'd want to look at some old lady when there were all those 18 and 19-year-old coeds bouncing around? There was a time that Jack would've agreed with them. But that was before he'd had a short affair with the landlady of the house he stayed in before he pledged Gamma Tau.
Except for an impressive chest, she wasn't really a whole lot to look at - just a rather ordinary-looking, divorced, 41-year-old. Jack couldn't even remember how it really started. They were just talking one night, and one thing led to another. At first, they both were embarrassed to have wound up in bed with each other. That soon faded. She had taught him things that none of those coeds would learn for many years. Stripped of all the stupid mind games, it'd been the most incredible sex he'd ever had. So good, in fact, that he was a little reluctant to move out and into the frat house. But she had insisted. What they'd had been great, but it was only a transitory thing. He had to move on.
By noon, the temperature had risen to 92. Connie had replaced the light sundress with a one-piece bathing suit. After lunch, she planned to take a cold dip in the pool.
Carrying a tray of finger sandwiches and cold drinks, Connie once more walked outside. Jack was just packing away the last of his tools. He was dirty and sweaty, a condition the older woman found very erotic.
"You look like you could use a shower," Connie said as she placed the tray on the wooden picnic table. Stepping under the shade of the wide yellow umbrella caused the temperature to drop a few degrees.
"I'd hate to track all this mess into your house," Jack replied as he stepped up and picked up one of the small bite-sized snacks.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Connie answered as she also nibbled at a sandwich. "There's an outdoor shower over there by the pool shed. You can wash up there."
"That's perfect, Mrs. D'Angelo," he said as the last morsel disappeared into his mouth. "If you'll excuse me, I'll wash this muck off before I get it all over your clean chairs."
"Certainly, but if we're going to have lunch together, I insist you call me Connie. Mrs. D'Angelo sounds so old."
"Okay, Connie it is," Jack smiled. The same devil-may-care smile she had seen in her dreams. "I'll be right back."
Connie tried not to be too obvious as she stole glances in the direction of the pool shed. The small wall around the showerhead only covered the area just below shoulder level down to your knees. She wished she had the nerve to stroll over there for some reason and take a peek. Watching Jack toss his dirty shorts over the wall, Connie felt a warm flush.
Five minutes later, Jack stepped out of the shower, clean and fresh. As he walked back to the table, drying his hair with a towel, Connie was surprised that he now wore a pair of red swimming trunks."I hope you don't mind my borrowing these," he said, indicating the shorts. "They were just hanging back there. The fit is a little snug, but they're a lot more clean than the pair I came with."
"Not at all," Connie replied. "They must've been left over from the pool party Jenny had before she left. If no one's claimed them by now, they're yours. You look good in them."
The reason being, Connie thought to herself, that they were such a snug fit that they very clearly outlined his hidden assets. | 5 |
3,758 | Sasha (part 3) | "Five, completely awake now."
What was that? I tried to remember what the waitress had just said, but she was walking away with a little sway of her hips, humming to herself. I tasted lipstick for some reason. And the table was a bit damp, as if someone had just cleaned up a spill. But my coffee cup was full, and warm.
There was something in my hand. I stuffed it in my pocket and got up to pay for my coffee. I was feeling a bit tired -- might as well go back to my room.
I had a bit of trouble finding my way back to my hotel room. The door that I went to first was not the room number I remembered, and when I got to my hallway, it looked oddly unfamiliar. And then my key didn't work in the lock. I checked the room number -- no, this was definitely my room. I decided to knock and hope my roommates would wake up, and would forgive me.
Sasha opened the door.
"Hi! Come in! I thought you'd never get here," said Sasha. "Would you like some coffee?"
"Um... I thought this was my room," I said, stepping inside.
"Nope. You're in 223, remember?" Sasha replied, shutting the door behind me and bustling over to the coffee pot on the dresser. "You told me that earlier."
"Yeah." 223 was the room I had gone to first. Why had I thought that wasn't mine?
"But you're welcome to sit down and stay awhile," she continued, handing me a mug that said it had been stolen from the cafe downstairs. "How was your panel?"
"Oh, it was interesting. It was on massage. Want me to show you what I learned?"
"Stop right there. You want to spend a long time caressing every inch of my body and lavishing me with devoted, skilled attention? No way, buster."
"I'm sorry. I--"
"Hee! Just kidding! *Please* throw me into that briar patch!" Sasha interrupted, leaping onto the bed. She stretched out on her belly and purred, in a voice an octave lower than normal, "Do me, baby."
So I gave her a massage. She made enthusiastic moaning noises whenever I hit a spot or a technique she particularly liked, which made it very satisfying to massage her. I tried to ignore how much it was also turning me on.
The room made a nice setting. Sasha had turned off most of the lights and lit small clumps of candles on the tables and dresser, and draped filmy scarves over the otherwise-tacky paintings hung on the walls. A faint smell of incense floated in from somewhere, and mingled with Sasha's perfume.
Eventually, she signaled for me to stop, and lay limply sunken into the comforter for a moment. "Mmm... that was lovely," she said. "Now it's your turn."
"My turn?"
"Yes, I have to return the favor, don't I?" she replied, sitting up and stretching languorously. Then she looked me straight in the eye. "Lie down."
I lay. Thinking to myself that if she kept speaking in that tone of voice, I would probably do just about anything.
But she was quiet. Instead, she trailed her fingers very lightly over the back of my hand, and up my arm. My whole arm went limp, tingling as it had before. She did the same to my left hand and arm, which also went limp. It was a pleasant tingling, but still very strange.
"Did you wonder when I would do this to you again?" Sasha breathed softly in my ear. "Did you wonder what it would feel like, if I touched you like this... everywhere?" Then she sat down on my butt, pulled my leg up at the knee, and started untying my shoe.
I was trying to wonder about things, but actually it was getting difficult to get my thoughts to go in a straight line. My arms felt really... nice. And the thought of exactly which parts of Sasha were rubbing against my butt was very distracting. It had barely occurred to me to wonder why she was untying my shoe when she pulled it off and started gently brushing her fingertips over the bottom and top of my foot, my ankle, my calf...
As the tingle spread up my leg just as it had in my arms, she removed my other shoe and did the same thing to that leg.
"You're losing control of your body, aren't you?" Sasha said, as her shivery touch trailed up the back of my thigh. "Everywhere I touch. Such a delicious, tingly feeling, isn't it? Like your body is filling up with some strange gas. You can't move your arms, or your legs, but they float away lightly at my touch. I can do *this*--" and she did something to my arm... I felt it sliding over the sheets like an air-hockey puck. I was turning into a helium balloon.
Her hands trailed over my butt, and my back. The tingling, airy feeling felt strange in my crotch... my cock would have been rising up in the air already, without that, if it had room to. As her fingers and the tingling rose up my back, up my torso, I felt as if I were wading out into deeper and deeper water, about to get my shoulders under...
"Do you wonder what will happen when my hands reach your face? Will you lose all power of thought and speech, or will you fixate on my voice and give up control of your body to me completely, placing yourself in my hands, letting me mold and pose you as I like? Will your thoughts float away with this airy tingling, or will every word I say echo in the hollow emptiness of your head, settling there like your own thoughts? Do you wonder what will happen," her fingertips were dancing up my neck, "NOW."
And my head felt empty, hollow, like a balloon. I was no longer wondering about anything... I was just listening to her.
"I've always wanted a blow-up doll of my own," said Sasha, smiling. "Let me prop you up against the wall and take a good look at you. You're so light, I may need to hold you down to keep you from bouncing against the ceiling." She gave a tug, and suddenly I was standing.
She sat back on the bed and looked at me appraisingly.
"Not bad... though that shirt has got to go." She stepped up and pulled my shirt off, first making my hands float helpfully above my head. Afterwards, she pulled my hands back down and stuck them to my sides.
"Hm... still something missing. I know!" She unbuckled the spiked black leather collar from around her neck, stood up, and fastened it around mine. Despite the tingling that pervaded my body, I could feel her nipples softly brush against my chest as she stood close to buckle the collar behind my neck. I could feel the soft skin of her arms touching my chest and shoulders. I could still be aware of being turned on by this... even if I couldn't hold any coherent thoughts about it.
She clipped a long chain to a ring at the front of the collar, and fastened the other end to the frame of her bed. "Now you won't float away," she said, grinning. "My blow-up doll. Now, let's see how well inflated you are. Looks pretty good from here..." She unbuckled my belt and unzipped the front of my pants, and slid her hand inside.
"Mmmm... not bad. What does your girlfriend think of this? Hm?" Sasha's face appeared in front of me. I was floating into her eyes, floating away... "What does Meg say about your cock?"
I'm not sure what I would have said in answer to that. But I couldn't answer anyway. I tried very hard to speak, whatever I would have said, but just thinking about trying to speak seemed to take a lot of effort, and I got nowhere... Eventually I gave up.
By then I had floated onto the bed... somehow. I was floating over the bed... no, I was tied to the bed to keep from floating away. I felt vaguely grateful to Sasha for tying me down to keep me from floating away. And now she was holding me down with her body, too. She was kneeling astride me, her legs pinning my thighs down. My pants were gone, somewhere... I could feel her naked legs on my thighs, under her skirt, pinning me down to the bed.
Sitting back on her haunches... on *my* haunches, she had one arm folded and her chin resting on her other hand. Considering me.
I lay sprawled on the bed underneath her, naked, wearing only her spiked collar. I wasn't sure where exactly my arms and legs were. But I was sure my cock was sticking up as straight as it could for her.
"I like it," she announced. Leaning back slightly, she pulled her shirt off over her head and tossed it away.
Her breasts were very perky.But then, that's the first thing I had noticed about her, wasn't it? She had perfect fist-sized breasts, small but happy, drawing more attention to her alert nipples, and the rings running through them, silver against her pale flesh. Sitting astride me with her shoulders thrown back, she had a fabulous silhouette against the candlelight.
I was too lightheaded to do more than stare, but my body appreciated the sight well enough. And now my cock was feeling even stiffer, and...
And turning into rubber. She was rolling a condom onto me, and it felt wonderful.
"It's so hard to tell where one thing ends and another begins, isn't it? You should be covered in latex, my blow-up doll. Can you feel it spreading from my fingers, covering your skin? Can you feel me slide against it?" Grabbing my hips, she pulled herself closer to my condom-covered penis, which strained to meet her.
I could feel her thighs sliding along mine... it did feel as if my legs were covered too. And my belly. A strange numbness and warmth was spreading over my skin, like the tingling before.
"And now you're safe for me, and totally helpless. My playtoy." She was rubbing my cock between her legs, using me like a dildo. All I could do was stare at her body, and feel her using me. I felt a slight touch of cold as she dabbed my cock with lube from somewhere, and then she took me inside her and leaned forward, riding me, clutching my body and pulling me deeper inside her, tearing the soft rubber of my skin with her fingernails, clutching me tighter and tighter and grinding her hips into me until she came, yelling, eyes closed and head thrown back, moaning a sound that pulled at my insides. "Ohhhhhh!"
She lay breathing heavily for a moment, still clutching me between her thighs. Then she leaned forward. "You *are* a fun toy. Don't worry, we're not done yet." She placed her hand on my forehead, over my eyes. "Sleep."
The rest of the weekend, I remember only in bits and pieces, and I'm not sure what was real and what I may have dreamed or imagined. I think Sasha did take me out of the room a few times on a leash, with me desperate to be tied down at all times for fear of floating away or something. She may have showed me off to Veronica. I hope she didn't really enter me in the costume contest as an inflatable sex toy.
At some point she must have let me go back to my room, because I remember settling up with my roommates on the last day of the con, and packing up the small amount of luggage I'd brought. As I carried it out of the room, I caught sight of Sasha down the hall, and hurried over to say goodbye to her.
"Hey! You know, I never got your address and stuff to keep in touch with you. Where do you live?" I asked.
"Shoot! I never got that stuff from you, either. Here, here's the flyer that came with my free coffee mug, you can write on the back of it."
I scribbled my address, phone number, and email on the paper she offered. Then I dug in my pockets for another scrap of paper for her to write on. My fingers touched something I didn't recognize. "What the... oh, hey, Veronica gave me something I was supposed to give back to you. Here..." I pulled the lump out of my pocket. It was a long gold-colored chain with a red crystal pendant dangling from it. It looked very pretty in the light... I couldn't take my eyes off it.
"John, go into trance for me now."
I was standing in the hallway... what had I been doing? Oh, right, heading off to the car. I picked up my bags and left.
I was halfway home before I started remembering... | 4 |
3,771 | The Adventures Of Ultra Woman And Mega Girl | "If you don't need me for anything else," the blond young man said as he picked up the small pile of folders off his boss's desk. "I'll put these away and take off."
"Of course, Tim," Jacqueline Kirby smiled. "Enjoy the weekend."
As the 22-year-old assistant closed the door behind him, Jacqueline leaned back in her chair and pulled a magazine out from the top drawer of her desk. It was the latest issue of "The Adventures of Ultra Woman and Mega Girl", a book she'd looked forward all day to kicking back and reading.
At 26, Jacqueline had been reading comics for over 20 years. Not surprising since her Uncle, Michael Kirby, had founded Creative Comics in the mid-1960s. Since then, the company had enjoyed moderate success, but never came close to challenging the industry leaders. Not until four years ago, that was.
Fresh out of college, Jacqueline, or Jackie as her family called her, had gone to work for Creative. It seemed the natural thing to do at the time. After all, she'd been working there part-time since she was 16 and had learned the business from the ground up.
Then, four months after she'd started, Mike Kirby had a major heart attack and decided to retire. As the majority stockholder, it was his decision that Jackie replace him. He'd worked too long and hard to hand 'his' company over to someone outside the family.
For the first year, Jackie made few real changes. After all, some of the people now working for her had been in the business when she was in kindergarten and didn't readily appreciate interference from a 21-year-old who inherited the job.
All that changed, however, the day Joanna Simon showed up in the outer office. Jackie remembered that day well.
In her ten years as the receptionist for Creative, Karen Wilson had seen too many young men and women like Joanna to take her too seriously. A portfolio under her arm, the 17-year-old had patiently waited all day for a chance to "show her stuff". Dozens of hopefuls showed up every year, especially towards the end of school. They made the rounds of the major comic companies, and then tried the smaller ones. Each was convinced that they held in their case the next Superman or X-Men.
One of the few changes Jackie had made when she took over was that these aspiring artists and writers not be given the bums rush that too many companies gave them. Even if their ideas were worthless, what could it hurt to take a few minutes to look them over and offer some advice. After all, these were the people who brought your product. Also, one day you might actually strike paydirt. You never know, she always reminded them.
The problem was that Joanna, or Jo as she liked to sign her work, had come by on the worst possible of days. A good part of the office had come down with some sort of virus, and everyone who was left was scrambling to take up the slack against a rapidly approaching deadline.
Karen had suggested that she come back another day, but Jo insisted she would wait. She had used almost all of her savings for the bus trip to New York City and was sleeping on her cousin's couch. She couldn't afford to come back next week.
So she'd sat quietly in her chair, watching people rush in and out of the Editor-in-Chief's office. Mid-morning soon gave way to afternoon, and then it wasn't long before the clock on the wall neared six. Karen began to pack up her things for the railroad ride home and then remembered the young girl.
"I'm afraid you're not going to be able to wait any longer," Karen said with as much sympathy as possible. "Maybe you could come back Monday when it's not so hectic?"
The look of disaster on the young girl's face touched a soft spot in the older woman's heart. She looked again at the wall clock and thought she could always catch the 07:10 train home.
"Wait one more minute," she said. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll try."
Instantly, Jo's face lit up with a thankful smile.
Stepping into the inner office, Karen explained the situation to Jackie. How everyone was so busy today that she hadn't even been able to get the young girl ten minutes with any of the editors. She hated bringing the matter to Jackie but hated even more telling the girl to come back Monday. Especially if she did, only to be told that her work really wasn't as good as she thought it was.
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Jackie said as she signed her name to the last of the pile of papers on her desk. "Give me five minutes to clean up, and I'll see her myself."
"Thank you, Ms. Kirby." The 46-year-old said. Karen had never been able to get used to calling her boss by her first name. Even though she had two daughters older than Jackie was.
Truth be told, Jackie was dead tired. Getting everything out before the 5 o'clock deadline had been a real struggle. Still, she agreed with Karen, they couldn't simply send the girl away. The thought that if her last name hadn't been Kirby, she wouldn't get past the front door was never far from Jackie's mind.
The five-foot-seven brunette took three of those five minutes to use the small private bathroom. It was one of the few luxuries that her Uncle had allowed himself. Running her hand through her long shoulder-length hair and then across her neck, Jackie thought that running this place was a lot harder than Uncle Mike had made it look. Competition was fierce, and some of their major titles were beginning to lose some of their popularity – with the resulting drop in sales.
At times it seemed like the job required a 20-hour workday. She was an attractive woman, she reminded herself as she looked into the mirror. When was the last time she'd gone out on a date? Probably just a month less than the last time she'd been laid, she answered herself.
"Hi, I'm Jacqueline Kirby," Jackie said with a smile as she reached out and shook Joanna's hand. "Why don't you have a seat, and we'll take a look at what you've got?" she added as she guided the younger girl to the conference table.
Joanna was a half-foot shorter than Jackie with short strawberry blond hair. She still carried some of the baby fat of her early teens, as well as braces that showed when she smiled. She was dressed in what Jackie guessed was her very best dress.
"Joanna Simon," the young girl said. "My friends call me Jo."
Her nervousness evident, Jo sat down and emptied her portfolio out onto the table. Jackie had to hide a smile at the girl's awkwardness. In many ways, it was like looking at a reflection of herself only a few years ago.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Jackie asked, trying to put her at ease. "Some tea, or maybe a Coke?"
"A Coke would be nice," Jo stammered, remembering that she hadn't eaten since breakfast.
Jackie produced two cans of Coke from the small refrigerator behind her desk and placed one in front of Jo. She also laid out some of the leftovers from lunch. Taking a sip of her own soda, she told Jo to help herself as she sat down and began to spread out the storyboards on the table. She really hoped the girl had enough talent that she could let her leave with some words of encouragement. | 3 |
3,774 | Passing | "Mmm. Pretty titties."
Theresa turned suddenly, jolted by the voice from behind. Three men sat on a green park bench, their backs turned, their heads moving in slow synchronization as they watched a woman approach. Theresa rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the book in her lap.
"Excellent complexion," spoke another voice in a controlled whisper, "healthy tan, slight curves. Probably a runner from the tone of her legs."
"Look at those legs," said the first man, rather excited. "Imagine those mams wrapped around your waist. I do believe she needs a ride on Mr. Johnson." He chuckled lewdly.
"Hair's a tad dark, and I think her breasts are a little flat. I like a perkier bosom."
"Fuck, Ed, all they need's a good suck. I'd make those boobies percolate."
"Nice top, but I don't like the shorts. No hug."
"No way, Ed. You can't tell me you care about her clothes. The whole idea is to get them off anyway."
"The clothes she picked out to wear tells me things about her. It all goes into the calculation, Brian. She's wearing shorts, better than pants, less than a skirt, conservative cut which subtracts from her tendency to let loose, running shoes, ankle socks with a little pink ball at the back. I think she has an athletic bra on, which would account for the flattened breasts."
"I'd fuck her silly."
"Eight point three," Ed said with an air of finality.
"Fuck."
"Tight-assed bitch," said the third man. "Look at that shit. All she thinks about is her fucking body. You can't talk to a woman like that unless you want to converse about shin splints and the high you get from torturing yourself for twenty miles."
"I don't want to talk to her," said Brian. "I just want to fuck her."
"All right, you've got a point Richard. Take her down to a seven point nine."
"Shit. Do yourself a favor and let her run that little butt away."
Theresa shook her head, unable to continue reading. She leaned back to feel the blaze of the sun warm her face. The leaves beyond the slope of hillside rustled with flickers of green silver.
"Out!" screamed the high-pitched voice of a child.
"No way!" retorted another child. Theresa smiled and stole another glance at the three men on the bench. The young one, Brian she supposed, pushed a lock of his sandy-colored hair away from his face, drawing Theresa's attention to his forehead, gleaming beneath a receding hairline. Theresa smirked.
"By a mile!" squealed an angry child.
Theresa noticed a handsome man coming down the path, tall and lean with a full head of dark curls cascading down to his broad shoulders. She sighed as he turned off the black asphalt and sat down to lean against the thick trunk of an old oak. Theresa stared as the young man unzipped his blue satchel and withdrew a thick volume.
"Do overs!"
"No way!"
"Wow," said Brian. Theresa turned to see. A small woman with huge breasts came bouncing over the crest of the hill. "Momma."
"Too big," said Ed.
"No such thing," said Brian. "Tell me you don't dream of sucking titties like hers. Squeeze them together and titty-fuck the girl."
"Ugh," said Richard. "She's a whiner."
"I knew this one chick, Missy, with big bazooms like those and she loved having her titties fucked. Pointy nips. She always wanted me to shoot my wad on her face. Big eyes."
"Six six."
"With an ass like that?"
"Six five."
"Ed, look at that ass. I'll bet she's a wicked witch in the sack."
"And I'll bet you've got a little dick," said Theresa under her breath.
"She could be my ex-wife's sister," said Richard, disgusted. "Big hairy snatch and no imagination."
"You're twisted, man," said Brian. Theresa smiled, considering the understatement.
"We pick Tad," said a child on the field below.
"Kristen," said another.
"Terry."
"Chris." Giggles erupted into rollicking laughter.
Theresa watched the man beneath the oak as he turned a page of his book, wondering what he was reading. The book was cloth-bound, no dust cover, just a pale blue volume with a glimmer of gold embossing. Theresa felt her nipples tighten, deciding the book was probably fiction, hoping against spies or adventure. Horror would be all right, although she preferred something with a vampire. Maybe something classic, rich with allusion and poetry. Theresa stretched her lean legs out, tickling her bare thighs with the thick carpet of grass. A warmth flowed between her legs, watching him read.
"Mommacita," said Brian.
"Beautiful, beautiful skirt. Look at those hips gyrate."
"She is fucking hot. I can smell that pussy from here. I'll bet she's not wearing panties."
"You're dreaming."
"I'm telling you. No bra, either. Look at that jiggle."
"She's a slut," said Richard.
"My favorite flavor," said Brian.
"Nine point two."
"Twelve point twelve, with a bullet," countered Brian.
"She could be prettier," said Ed. "Her face, I mean."
"You don't fuck a face," said Brian. "I do, but you don't." Brian fell off the bench, laughing. "Your wife still won't give you a blowjob?"
"Like Mags is going to change."
"That marriage would be over, if I were you."
"Yeah, well, there's more to it than getting your dick licked."
"I don't know," said Brian, sitting in the dirt, tossing up dust clouds with his hand. "Living with a chick is hard enough."
"Harder than you know," said Richard.
"Shit," said Brian. "You just need a woman who knows how to satisfy. The rest is words and sleeping."
"Right," said Richard. "I'll ask you about that in ten years, boy."
"I'd die smiling after ten years of that twat."
"After your ten minutes of love, she'd be off looking for another guy and you'd be snoozing in dreamland."
"Shit."
"Ha!" said Richard.
"Michael's on our team," said a child in the field.
"Then we get Jerry."
"I'm not playing on Cindy's team."
"Who wants you?"
"You know what I like," said Richard. "A woman who can just hang, you know, spend some lazy time doing nothing, like this. The women in this city are all looking for something. I've got to get out of this up-tight place."
"I'm going to LA," said Brian. "This fall, a buddy of mine is moving down there and I'm going to stay with him and find a job."
"Worse," said Richard.
"Wait," said Ed. "What about that one?"
"Where?" asked Brian.
"There," said Ed, nodding toward the south. Theresa watched as another woman came into view.
"You're kidding me," said Brian.
"Oh well," said Ed. "She looked good for a moment."
"You guys are so full of shit," said Richard. "Like you can tell anything about a woman half a mile away."
"The whole package includes the wrapper," said Brian, "and if she doesn't fire my afterburners, what's the fucking point?"
"What is the fucking point?" asked Richard.
"Hell if I know," said Brian, "but I have to get my rocks off."
"Don't get married," said Ed. "Seven three."
"Shit," said Brian. "Don't marry Mags, you mean."
"I'm telling you. But don't mind me. You'll find out."
"I know better," said Brian. "You just have to score the right babe."
"No such thing," said Richard. "I knew one I thought was right, but then she married an accountant and moved to Jersey."
"Bitch."
"Andy was fine."
"Accountant? Head for numbers, eh?" Brian laughed hard. "Giving head for numbers," he sputtered.
"Yeah, yeah. I got stupid when she dumped me and I married Jackie on the rebound."
"Did she give head?" asked Brian.
"Nope. I wouldn't let her. Nasty woman."
"You were stupid."
"We all are."
Theresa picked up her purse and dusted a few blades of grass from the red pattern embossed on the back of her thighs. She shook her head as she glanced at the men on the bench and started up the slow incline of the hill. The children below laughed happily as they kicked a red rubber ball over the dusty diamond. Theresa took slow steps toward the oak tree. Nervousness spread through her breast as she tried to feel casual. She tried to talk herself out of continuing, but something pushed her forward.
"No way!"
"It was out of bounds!"
"You're out!"
"No way!"
"Excuse me," Theresa said as she drew near the handsome man. He didn't even look up. "Excuse me," she repeated. Sultry blue eyes finally glared at her, seemingly annoyed by her intrusion.
"Hmm?"
"Do you have the time?"
"No," he said abruptly, frowning and looking back at his book.
"Oh," said Theresa, blushing deeply. "Sorry." He said nothing.
Theresa made her way back to the asphalt path and deliberately walked toward the bench. "What does he know?" she asked herself. "Stiff." The three men sat quietly, watching her.Theresa looked at the soft, bubbling clouds above the distant horizon, avoiding the eyes fixed on her approach. A few crude terms drifted softly through the breeze, and Theresa felt herself smile. Richard sat stiff and cocked his head sideways. Ed, a large man, his white oxford clinging to the sweaty bulge of his male breasts, seemed to be turning numbers through his head. Brian almost drooled, talking obscenely. Theresa felt each step as she walked past the three judges.
"What pretty titties."
"Nine point seven."
"Almost," said Richard. "Almost worth the heartache."
"Fuck them all," Theresa said with a smile, strutting proudly. "Fuck them all." | 4 |
3,792 | Female Slaves | "M'lord, this is Stephanie."
You gesture towards an attractive woman standing beside you. I look her up and down slowly. "So, you wish to pleasure me?"
"Yes, m'lord."
"Well, you certainly come highly recommended." I look at you and you smile at me, nodding your head in agreement.
"But," I continue, "I'll have to check that out for myself. Both of you come with me."
I lead you and Stephanie into the kitchen. "Strip."
You both look at each other for a quick moment, then you each peel off your clothes until you eventually stand naked before me.
I gaze over you both, taking in the fullness of your breasts, the curve of your bellies, the triangles of your sex. Already I feel my cock twitching, but it is not yet time.
I tell you to get up on the table, lie down and spread your legs. Once you've done as you're told, I pull you forward so your legs dangle over the edge. I order Stephanie to lie on the floor under the table. She does so.
Now I drop to my knees, my cock and balls hanging above her face. "Suck me good."
As Stephanie's mouth begins to suck and lick on my cock, I bury my face between your thighs, thrusting my sex deep into your cunt, tasting the sweetness of the raspberry juice you'd already placed there before arriving. I lift your legs, put them on my shoulders and plunge my tongue into you, then licking across your labia, through the folds of flesh to find the tiny bud of your clitoris, circling it, pushing against it.
And all the while, I feel my cock enlarging as Stephanie continues to draw it in and out of her mouth, then each of my balls in turn is sucked upon.
I feel your body bucking on the table as my licking and thrusting tongue brings you to a climax, and the heels of your feet thump against my back.
As your orgasm fades, I order you off the table, tell you to get on top of Stephanie. You position yourself in a sixty-nine fashion. "Eat her," I order you.
Your mouth opens and your tongue begins to lave her cunt even as I did you.
Now my cock is fully erect. I pull it from Stephanie's mouth, thrust it into your cunt. "Continue, Stephanie," I command. And as I begin to pump my hard rod in and out of your sex, holding onto the table for support, I feel Stephanie's tongue flicking over and across my balls, then sliding up to stab my anus, then back again. I feel her hot breath blowing against my testicles, the muscles of your cunt sucking at my cock.
And as you thrust your tongue into Stephanie's cunt, as you lick and nibble at her clit, she suddenly begins to writhe beneath your body as she climaxes, her breasts heaving upwards against your stomach. The feel of her body against yours, the ramming of my cock deep into your cunt causes you to orgasm again and you cry out in ecstasy.
Then I too begin to climax, shooting the first streams of hot semen deep into your cunt, then pulling out of you, it spills out over the opening of your ass and cunt, then continues spurting onto Stephanie's face and breasts until there is nothing left in my cock to ejaculate.
I lower it to her face once more, and she sucks it in, her tongue licking the final drops of semen from its tip.
Then you turn around, your own mouth joining hers as you lick and suck my balls, then the shaft of my cock already wet with sticky cum and the juices of your cunt and Stephanie's mouth.
You look up at me. "Did we please you, Master?"
"Yes, very much so. I look forward to further pleasure from you both." | 4 |
3,795 | RAPIST'S LAMENT (No explicit sex) | "She screamed when I took her. A terrible sound. But I didn't care. God, what a body she had! She tempted me with it, flaunted it in front of my eyes. Well, I had to take her. I had to! But her screaming!"
He looked at the speaker, a bald-headed, misshapen form of manhood. He knew the type by heart — a loser. He'd always been surrounded by losers. This wretch hadn't stopped babbling since they brought him in, early that day.
"She pleaded with me. 'No, don't, please! You're hurting me!' Well, how did she think I felt all those times she'd parade in front of me in her skimpy underthings. Taunting me! No, it was too late for pleas of mercy. I was too wound up. I had to have her! But I hadn't counted on the screaming. God, I didn't know she could scream so much! There she goes again! Asking me to stop! Tell her I can't stop, will you? I did stop. I didn't mean it. Honest. If I knew it would end this way, I wouldn't have let it start."
"She lorded it over me, you know. She knew what her sexy walk was doing to me, bending in front of me and showing me her tight little ass in the silk panties. Daring me to touch, to feel. Day after day, until it became too much. I couldn't take any more. Jesus, I got so annoyed that I took her. Took her by force! I had to teach her, you see. You do understand?"
His head was reeling. This conversation kept going around and around in his head. The justification for the action. The talking, talking, talking giving him a splitting headache. But the drone kept on and on and on — steady and endless, on and on.
"If only she hadn't tried to scratch my eyes out. That's what she did. I had her down. I could feel her silky breasts on my chest, I could taste her hot breath on my mouth and then she tried to scratch me! That's when I got mad. That's when I decided to fix her. Fix her but good!"
It can't be happening, he thought. It is just a dream. Close your eyes and it will go away. But no, there it is. A singular drone that slices through the mind's barrier. That drone again. Steady as a clock ... on and on ... endless. Please! Somebody, turn it off! Please!
"I hit her hard. That's what I did. And I took her panty hose — you tired or something? I mean, you have your eyes closed — yeah, well, I took her panty hose and ripped it in two and tied her hands behind her with one half. She struggled but I sort of liked it, the feel of her soft body against mine. It made me more determined to have her. I tore off what was left of her dress. She was naked now but still fighting me. She was screaming, calling me bad names. But I kept doing what I had to do. I was on fire now. I couldn't stop. But when I entered her, she started pleading with me to stop. Screaming at me to stop. Like she is doing now! Tell her I have stopped! Tell her. Tell her I was afraid her screaming would get us in trouble, that's why I put the other part of the panty hose around her neck. I told her to be quiet but her mouth kept spewing out sounds like a siren, calling for help. I tightened it around her skinny neck — amazing that such a small neck could hold such a large voice box."
Oh God, won't somebody turn off the talking? he asked. Steady talking now for — let's see — Oh God, it seemed like forever. And still his voice droned on and on. Steady as clockwork: on and on. Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! he shrieked.
But he could not break the droning.
"She kept screaming even though her eyes began bugging and her face turned purple. She was flopping around and I was riding her and I couldn't stop myself. I felt the explosion coming. Then, she slumped over and was still. Peace! Peace at last, I thought. But then she started screaming again. Even after she was gone and they brought me here, her screaming continued. Like now. Please, somebody, make her stop!"
Then give me peace, his soul begged as the sound crashed against his ears as the pounding seas crash against the rocks.
"But she won't stop screaming. Even now I still hear her. She keeps asking, 'Why did you do that to me?' As if she didn't remember all the temptations she put in my path. She knew. She knows so please tell her to shut up."
His eyes focused on the wretched being facing him. My God! He could be taken for my twin, he thought. And still the drone kept on and on. Not making sense now, though never making sense, yet going on and on and on. Steady as a clock, Almost like a water torture: drip, drip, drip. Only this was an endless babbling in his ears, throbbing in his temples until his whole body ached with the pain.
"I thought death would stop her but no. She kept on. Her mouth refused to stop, I can see it now. I can hear it now! And out the words tumble, one after another, accusing me. I didn't mean to kill her! Do you hear me? I didn't mean to kill her. I only wanted to love her. I told them that, but they wouldn't listen to me. They hear her screaming and accusing me. That's who they hear. They won't listen to me.
"Poor me! Here I am, not even able to get away from her voice. If I stop talking, know what happens? She starts. On and on she'll go. Accusing me. That's why I can't stop talking."
Oh, God, why me? Why must I bear the burden of this man's guilt? Spare me the details! Turn off his voice. Please, please stop, I can't stand any more. Please stop. Please! Please! Please!
I'll kill him if someone doesn't stop him. Stop! Stop! Stop!
"Here she is again. She's threatening. Stop talking. I didn't do it. Don't accuse me. Listen to me! Stop, stop, I implore you to stop. Stop mouth! Shut up mouth! I'll kill you, mouth! Mouth! Mouth!"
Silence — what was it like? What is it like to sink into the deep depths of your mind, where only your own peaceful thoughts can penetrate? Desist, foul mouth, with your senseless babble. Yes, that's right, be firm, Stop it now. Silence! Quiet! But the voice interrupted and droned on and on.
"I can't stand it any more. I'm going crazy, Talk, talk, talk. I can't take it any more. Shut her mouth. Please stop her talking. I order you to stop talking!"
It's got to stop, he agreed, looking at the man's throat, pale under a red face but soft and inviting. I'll kill him, he thought. Wrap this shirt around his neck.
Ah, there is peace, coming slowly in the darkness ... quietness is settling over the room.
At last, real peace.
The doctor looked down at the body, before they wheeled it away. The forty-year-old man looked at rest now. He had been brought in for questioning in the rape-murder of his wife's stepdaughter. He denied killing the voluptuous woman.
So they left him here in the interview room by himself. He had been looking at himself in the mirror when he must have taken off his shirt and strangled himself, the doctor thought as they took the body away. | 4 |
3,798 | The Punishment Fits The Crime | "My object all sublime, I shall achieve in time. Is to let the punishment fit the crime, the punishment fit the crime." Gilbert & Sullivan
The Crime
My wife, Rebecca Gooding Wharton, aged thirty-seven, mother of Jennifer 18, Julie 17 and Jason 15, stood quietly in the center of our den. Her head was turned down in submission and humiliation, but her big brown eyes peered up at me from under her long lashes. You know that look, that "I am in deep trouble but I will seduce you out of my punishment" look.
She was wearing a long dress in a floral print design which covered from her beautiful, long neck to her dainty, elegant feet. It was a classy, expensive, and demure dress, but she still looked like a wet dream. From the tightness of the dress around her breasts, I guessed she wore her "nuclear bra," as she called the push-up delight which maximized her already significant natural endowment. She probably wore a pair of shocking pink thong panties, if she wore any panties at all.
She knew I loved that dress because I knew what she looked like without it. I knew that dress hid from the gaze of others a dynamite, beauty contest winning, figure covered by soft, touchable skin, both of which she pampered constantly.
She was wringing her hands, twisting the white lace handkerchief in them, and the tension was evident in her voice and face.
"What are you going to do, Charlie?"
"I should divorce your adulterous ass!"
"Please! Never! Oh, God, Charlie, I could not think of life without you!"
"You should have thought of that before you fucked Harry."
"Please, Charlie. You know you still love me."
She turned now to face me, raising her head to look me in the eye, brushing her long light-milk-chocolate colored hair from her face. The dress suggested her flat stomach and her hourglass shape as it clung to her. She took a step toward me and began to cry. Slowly, she collapsed to kneel on the floor, knees demurely together, hands still clinched around the handkerchief with which she daubed her eyes.
"I know you love me, just as I love you. We have loved each other since we were six years old, Charlie. Remember first grade, when I pledged undying love to you and you ran in horror?"
"I had good instincts even then. I should have listened to them."
"Oh, Charlie, please don't say that. We have had a lot of good years. Remember? From then on, it was Charlie and Becky, Becky and Charlie. Who first held my hand? Who gave me my first kiss? Took me to the prom? Took my virginity? Filled my stomach with his seed giving me our children? Who, Charlie?"
"Were you thinking of those things when you were sucking Harry's cock?"
"Please, Charlie. This is hard on me, too."
I noticed her legs had parted now, her knees shoulder-width apart, the demure dress tucked tightly around her delicious thighs. Man, what thighs! Thighs to die for. Thighs that when you crawl between them you enter paradise. She was trying to arouse me.
She did not have to try hard. I got aroused just looking at her, thinking of her, smelling her, touching her. I always had, and, damn my soul, I always would. I knew that, and so did she.
Our problem was Becky had an affair. She was seduced by Harry, the tennis pro at the country club. That is nothing new. If men realized seventy-five percent of their country club bills were directly attributable to their wives fucking the help, half the clubs in America would close.
Harry videotaped them together. He tried to blackmail her with the videotape and did receive four payments. But, then I found out. He was in jail and probably would get sent away for five to seven years, but the tape had been reproduced and sent to all our friends.
I had seen that tape. The porn industry wished they could make something that hot. There she was, my Becky, in all her naked splendor, fucking Harry. She was hot, sweating, vocal, whimpering, her delicious body oscillating, her hands holding him. That body. The one that had been mine.
I always knew she was a hot little slut. We had joked and laughed about it. But, she was hot only for me and only I knew how hot she was.
Now, she was hot with Harry and everyone knew. I would bet you a year's wages every man in town had beat off to that tape. I knew they had seen it because they had told me. And, if they saw it, they beat off.
"Charlie?"
It was the voice she used when she said "Charlie, let down my hair" or "Charlie, come lay with me." That voice.
"Charlie, I think you have an erection. Were you thinking of me?" A toying, teasing voice.
"I was thinking of the tape."
"Don't think of the tape. Think of us! Think of that first time in your parent's bedroom. Remember how frightened you were when I bled? Think of the nights in Acapulco, by our private swimming pool at Las Brisias when we fucked in the water. Think of the week we spent at Sanibel Island, just us in that big condo. Oh, Charlie, think about all our great times together. We could have another great time right now. I can do something about that problem in your pants."
God, she was sexy. Her body language screamed "fuck me" with her shoulders slightly bowed to offer her breasts to me, her pouty lower lip extended, her eyes flashing, the skirt now so tight over her pubis I could see it protruding.
"Why are you coming on to me?"
"Please, Charlie. I love you more than life itself. I want you and me to be one again. I will do anything to get you to take me back. Anything! I am going to fight for you, Charlie. I will not accept a divorce. I will not go quietly. I will fight with everything I have. But, what weapons do I have? All I can fight with is my love, our memories and my sexuality."
"Memories? I have a tape full of memories that plays in my head. How can we generate positive memories now, in this town? How do you expect to live here after what you have done? How do you expect me to live here?"
"Please. We will find a way. As long as I have you, I can live with anything, any shame, any horror. But, I must have you, Charlie."
She was inching forward, now within arm's length. I stood and walked away. If she touched me...
"Running from me?" she said. Now, it was the voice she used when we played a bondage game and she was the dominant one, the voice which said "I own you and I will make you beg me to stop fucking you before I am through with you."
"Look, you stupid slut. I love and want you, too! If you touch me, I won't be able to resist you."
"Is that so bad, Charlie?" she said, in a sultry, teasing tone. "Remember. You like touching me. My skin. Here. Next to my pussy. Smooth. Or, here along my sides where my waist narrows. Under my breasts. My back."
In one graceful movement, her long skirt was above her waist. She was panty-less, her pussy shaved as it had been for years. I could see the honey dew glisten. She touched between her legs and held her finger up to me.
"Here, Charlie. This is what happens when you touch my pussy. I am all wet for you. Would you like it?"
"Dammit it, Becky. Cut it out! This is serious."
"I know it's serious. But, it is not fatal. It will be all right if we are together. Oh, I want to be with you, Charlie, I want you in my arms, between my legs. Please."
"Why should I stay with you? Why should I live with an adulterous slut? Why should I endure the humiliation of a cuckold? Why?"
"Do you really think I am a slut? Do you? I am almost forty and there have been two men who had their cocks up me. One was a sonofabitch who fucked me six times in a two week period. The other was you. How many times have you been up me, Charlie? How many times have I opened my legs to you since that first time twenty-one years ago?"
"Is he the only one? Or, have there been others?"
"Oh, Charlie, how could you?"
She began crying again. The skirt again covered her. Her eyes ran and her lip quivered.
"Sorry, Becky, but I had to ask."
"Why? You know me so well. You knew about him the first time but were afraid to ask. You knew, Charlie. I could see it in your eyes. There never has been another man but him."I wish to God I could take back those two weeks, Charlie, but I can't. I will live with that the rest of my life."
She straightened her back, gathering her resolve.
"Look, Charlie. He fucked me six times. I sucked his cock eight or nine times. That is all. He never held my hand. He never walked with me on a beach on a summer's day. He never toasted me with wine on our anniversary. He never stroked my hair as we danced in the moonlight. We never lay in bed with our baby child between us, holding hands in joy over our little one. He never curled against me in the morning and told me he loved me."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Please, Charlie. Don't ask. Don't make me say it."
Why did I ask? I must be some kind of masochist. Anyone who saw that videotape knew she enjoyed it. That is what made the tape so special. A very special woman was wildly enjoying sex. No Hollywood actress. No put on. Real pleasure. Real sex. Sex like only I use to have with her.
"Becky, even if I could take you back, something else is weighing on me."
"I know. Everyone in town knows I did it. They all know. Oh, it won't be easy. Those bitches at the club will gossip behind my back. They will look down their noses at me. But, I can take it if you are there for me. You and the children."
The children were very aware of what their mother had done. Some so-called friend of Jennifer had shared the tape with her. She sat in a group and watched her mother being fucked by someone other than her father until she ran screaming from the room. Now, all three had seen it. Teenagers are very aware of sex and of shame, of status and of humiliation, which they see hiding behind every tree.
Our children had been humiliated as we had. They showed no signs of forgiving their mother, cursing at her if they deigned to speak at all.
"What do you want me to do, Charlie?"
"I don't know. I need time to think. No man likes to think of his wife with another man. Particularly me, Becky. And that is only half of it. The children. The community."
"I know. May I continue to live in the guest house?"
"Yes. Of course."
"Please, speak to the children for me. I...."
She broke out in tears again, curling into a little ball of sobs kneeling on our floor. How I wanted to hold her, comfort her, take her cares away. And, yes, I wanted to fuck her, too. I wanted to fuck her so hard I would drive Harry from her mind and pussy and soul forever. And, I wanted to fuck her gently as I often did, sharing love with her.
I knew then what my answer would be. I knew that somehow, someway I would work it out for us. She knew, too, for we knew each other so well.
So, my problem was to find a way to vanquish her guilt allowing her to exorcize that devil, create sympathy for her in the children and the community, restore my status in the community as a man by removing the cuckold stain from myself. In short, I needed to do something that would restore harmony and balance.
No small task.
*****
The Punishment
It had been four long and lonely days since Becky and I talked. Four days of pure hell! She stayed away from us as if she were serving solitary confinement. I was exhausted, my nerves frazzled, my emotions shot. The children were in as bad shape as I was.
Becky was calm and serene.
"I can only trust in you, Charlie, and, I do trust you. I will abide by your decision, unless it's divorce. Then, I will fight like hell to stay with you."
It came to me as I lay in bed, in the dark of our bedroom which now felt so lonely and cold. I ran from the house in my underwear, threw open the door to the guest house. She was asleep in the chair, wearing her thick, terry cloth robe.
I explained my solution to the riddle.
She threw her arms around me and kissed me hard.
"Oh, Charlie, you are such a clever man. What a brilliant solution."
"Thank you," I replied smugly.
"Charlie, it will work. Our problem will be solved."
"Well, not solved, but mitigated."
"Oh, Charlie, can we make love again? It has been too long for me."
"I don't think."
I was stopped, my words frozen in mid air, as the robe slipped to the floor leaving my Becky naked.
"Take me, Charlie. Please, take me and fuck me until nothing else in the world exists but your cock in me. I need that. I need you so."
"No."
I turned away, fighting for control of my own needs, my own cock.
"Please, Charlie. Fuck me. You know how hot I am, how good. I need you, and you need me, Charlie. You need to be in me, loving me."
She was pressed hard against me, her breasts burning a hole in my back, one hand through the front of my shirt caressing my chest, the other on my cock.
"No, Becky. Not until you are punished."
"But, you are punishing yourself, too, by denying yourself me, Charlie. Me. My body. My legs around your waist. My hot pussy wrapped around your cock."
"No."
Showing more strength than I knew I possessed, I pulled her hands off me and stepped away. I could not look back as I left. I did not have that kind of control.
We invited four couples to see Becky's punishment. We considered inviting the children, but decided against it for obvious reasons as you will see.
Jim and Peggy were our closest friends and had stood by us. Only Jim of the males in my crowd had not made remarks about the video, although I knew he had seen it. We invited Marsha and Dick and Jason and Rachel. The last couple, Matt and Janie, were not close friends. But, I knew Janie would rather gossip than breathe and what transpired would be all over town in less than twelve hours.
They all arrived about eight and I led them into the garage. No drinks or hors d'oeuvres were served. It was not that kind of occasion. The guests were seated in folding chairs set up on the cement garage floor.
"Has everyone seen the video?" I asked.
The women twittered and blushed. The men looked away. But, they finally admitted it. They had all seen it. I wondered then if they had all beat off watching it.
"Becky is to be punished for her indiscretion. You are here to witness it. Afterwards, I wish all of you and everyone else would realize she has been sufficiently punished and forgive her. Forgive and forget. Move on with our lives."
"No real man would forgive a wife for what she did. I am surprised you are even thinking about staying with her," Janie whined in her most imperious country club bitch voice.
"A real man, a man confident in his own masculinity and strength, a man loving and caring of his wife, would punish her appropriately and forgive her. He would forget her adultery and remember all the good times they had together. That is what I intend to do. Punish, forgive and forget. And, I want you to forgive and forget, too, Janie. Becky has been a good wife and mother for twenty years. Two weeks are unimportant."
"Well, maybe, if the punishment was harsh enough. What do you think, Rachel?"
Yes, Rachel, what do you think? The rumor was Rachel was Harry's little playmate before Becky.
"Yes. We should all forgive even without punishment. And, if the punishment is severe, well, Becky would have suffered enough."
Soon, as I had hoped, all were in concurrence. If the punishment fit the crime, forgiveness would automatically follow.
"Becky!" I called. My wife had been waiting impatiently outside the garage. When I called her name, she entered, her terry cloth robe draped around her and slippers like ballet shoes on her feet. With her head down in shame, she walked to stand by me.
"Tell them your punishment, Becky."
"I am to be..."
"Look at them and speak clearly."
She was beet red as she fought to bring her eyes to theirs. Tears formed and slid down her lovely cheeks. The audience was silent, appearing not even to breathe, as they stared back at her.
"I am to be stripped here in front of you and whipped. Then, I will wear a chastity belt the rest of my life to prevent further adulterous behavior."
"No," Peggy gasped, bursting into tears over her friend's punishment. All were stunned, their faces showing true shock.
"Sit," I commanded and Becky sat.
I had prepared a broomstick, cutting grooves in it and using rope, to make a device to hold her legs spread. She raised each leg in turn to allow me to put the slip knots over her slender and delicate ankles, holding her legs more than shoulder width apart.
I helped her to stand and maneuvered her in front of the group. She was facing them, her robe still covering her. I retrieved the chastity belt from its box. It was impressive looking, with its shiny, stainless steel belt to fit around her waist and its matching plate to fit over her pussy and lock to the belt. I let each of them see it and handle it.
Oh, they wanted to ask questions. Red faces and embarrassed expressions gave way to insatiable curiosity, with questions starting at "where did you find such a thing in this day and age." Finally, I answered the question they wanted to know but were afraid to ask.
"When she has it on, nothing can penetrate her and she can masturbate, but not easily."
After asking them to sit, I returned to Becky. I wrapped each of her wrists five times in a soft, white rope and tied it off securely. I crossed her wrists and bound them together. Then, I lowered the chain on the electric hoist I used for my work in the garage, attached her and raised the hoist until her arms were over her head and she was stretched with her back to the audience.
As I prepared her, I observed my little group of witnesses. My guess was at least two of the four couples would do a little B&D as soon as they got home.
The robe had been draped over her shoulders. I undid the belt and pulled it off her. They gasped. I will have to admit my Becky is something to gasp at. She was not naked but wearing a thong bikini which, as you know, covers little in the back, which was their view.
I pulled the whip from its container and showed it to the audience.It was not a severe whip. It would not cut or maim her, but she would know she had been whipped.
"Anything to say, Becky?"
"Thank you, Charlie, for giving me this punishment and forgiving me. I am sorry for what I did and I love you."
I laid the first lick on the cusp between her ass and thighs. She jumped and gasped as did all the witnesses as if they had been struck also. I will not describe every blow, every time the whip found her tender flesh. Nor will I describe in detail how she struggled in her bondage and her skin turned red and mottled from the punishment, or how she finally reached a breaking point and I stopped.
"Now, the belt."
I fastened the chastity belt around her waist and hung the key around my neck on a chain before draping her with the robe again.
"Sufficient punishment?" I asked them. They concurred as I expected, removing stains from her honor and mine.
"Please leave now. I want to be alone with my wife."
Becky was naked except for the belt as we stood in our bedroom. It was the first time we had been together there in far too long a time.
"You were magnificent! God, what a man. First, you plan it. Then, you execute it to perfection! Oh, Charlie, they thought you were punishing me with that whip. If they only knew how I love it, how hot it makes me. Oh, Charlie, I really need you right now!"
I was busily removing my clothes as Becky spun happily, dancing around the room.
"How did you do it, Charlie? You kept me right on the edge of orgasm the whole time. If I had not been tied, I could have cum. Wouldn't that have been something? And, your little touches. The tampon to keep my pussy juices from running down my leg. The oil stain remover to hide the smell of my pussy. Charlie, you are really something. Hurry!"
I was naked now. She lunged at me, throwing her delicious body into me, covering me in kisses as she jammed her steel-covered cunt into my cock.
"Come on, Charlie! Get this damn thing off me! I need your cock in me really badly!"
"Becky, the belt stays. The whipping was not a punishment for you. You loved that. The belt is your punishment."
She stepped back, a stunned expression on her face for she could not believe what I said.
"Charlie, I agreed to wear it forever but only when you were not around. You are here. I want you to take off this goddamned belt and fuck me! And, I want it now!"
"No."
"You bastard! You sorry bastard! I have never been this horny. Charlie, I cannot stand it!" she yelled, pummeling my chest with her closed fists in frustration.
"Try begging instead of screaming. That might work."
She dropped to the floor prostrate and kissed the top of my foot.
"Please, master. Please fuck your worthless slave who needs you so desperately."
"Keep begging."
She balled her fist and hit me on the top of my foot. As I danced around, she stood and reached for the key around my neck.
"No. Bad girl," I said, slapping her hand away.
She spread her legs, put her hands on her hips and thrust her pelvis out defiantly.
"Charlie, I am still the best piece of pussy in the whole damn state. Why deny yourself me? Don't you want me?"
"Yes, I want you and only you. But, I want you to know I am serious about this. This has devastated me!"
Tears in her eyes, she put her arms around me and held on tightly as I did the same to her. She felt so good in my arms.
"Oh, Charlie. I am so sorry. I do love you so much."
I took the belt off fifteen minutes later to make wild, passionate love to my wife.
I had committed no crime.
And, I had already been punished way too much. | 5 |
3,800 | I Wish it Did | "Fuck me, do it now," I asked as I guided his cock-head into the warm, moist petals of my nether lips, aching to feel it plunge into me, wanting to draw his body into mine, feel his cock pulse and thrust within me like a tamed wild animal straining at its leash, snarling, purring as it gently licked me. My body tensed as I felt it press against me, opening the petals, feeling the ridge of its head slip through and flare out to hold itself within me. I wanted it to stay within me until my passions had died and my body had consumed his seed. My soul waited for him, my hips lifted, my breasts waiting to be pressed between our chests, my mouth waiting for his lips and tongue as he slowly became one with me. I gasped as he withdrew and sighed as I felt him penetrate again and flare within me once more. I could feel him inside me now, his cock head separating, smoothing, caressing the inner folds of my cunt as it slowly glided in; then emptiness as he withdrew and renewed excitement as he entered me again...again and again. Each penetration a new beginning and a deeper ending, the exquisite pleasure both given and received by those so perfectly designed members increasing as each thrust drove his cock ever upward toward my heart until my cunt was filled with his cock and my soul was filled with joy. I gripped his cock and held it within me, wrapping my legs around his thighs to hold us fully joined as I savored the pleasure of our coupling, smiling as I thought of what was still to come.
He lowered himself onto me, playfully rubbing his nipples against mine as we came together and our lips joined and our tongues intertwined. I felt his pubis press against my protruding clit as he tilted his groin toward me, felt the fire of my orgasm light as his coarse hairs caressed my tender clit.
I only felt the fullness in me now, the memory of the filling subsiding as we lay together. His cock moved within me, slight but still felt; a pulse like a clinch of my cunt. It stiffened and swelled against my inner flesh again and I squeezed back, giggling as we fucked without moving. His pubis massaged my clit again and then, sudden emptiness as he withdrew all but his cock-head. "No," I whispered as I lifted my hips up to him. "Yes," he hissed as he lunged against me, his cock-head rippling through the folds of my cunt, the padded flesh of our mons coming firmly together, his pubis against my clit, and then emptiness again. If only I could stay filled, but it was the filling that was the pleasure, that delicious feeling of his cock rippling through the folds of my cunt, massaging its flesh; not restful like that of his fingers on my shoulders and back but exciting, indescribable, more like a scratched itch deep within me, raising the heat of my passion.
The pleasurable tenderness of my clit changed to pure pleasure as each stroke caressed it, his caresses not hard enough now; pressing back against him to make them felt and last. The loneliness of the emptying of my cunt forgotten, replaced by the anticipation of the filling; noticing the pleasant feeling of my cunt closing in behind his slowly withdrawing cock-head, the pause as it rested for a moment to kiss my nether lips before plunging into the depths of my body again.
The air cooled my sweating breasts as he released my lips and raised up on his arms to thrust harder and deeper. I opened my eyes to watch his cock slip into me, see my breasts jiggle as he came hard against me, watch him caress my burning clit before his glistening cock slowly appeared, paused, and then suddenly thrust into me again. My eyes closed and my head tilted back, faint cries of a woman being fucked by her lover coming through my parted lips as he came against me; "uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh," sweet bliss that I wished would go on forever but could not, "uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh."
Something happening inside me, in my mind, a need for more of him in me, all of him into my womb to be born and nursed. I pulled him down to me, my fingers digging into his back, my tongue thrusting into his mouth. My heart raced as my orgasm built, carrying me toward that plane of euphoric ecstasy that would cloud my mind with incoherence, incoherence that would blot out all but the pleasure of the consummate union of a woman with a man. My hips thrust my vulva against his crotch as my legs pulled him to me, my cunt gripping his cock as it glided into me; each stroke faster, harder but no greater depth achieved. The center of my sex took over my body, the contractions of my cunt that would draw his seed from him sending waves of joy rippling through my body to shake it, sting my breasts and release the cries of my climax from my soul, "ah, ahh, aahh, aahhh, aaahhh, ahhhhhhh."
Blissful peace as he moved to his side and held me to him, caressing me and kissing me while I slowly returned to reality; longing to return to that plateau from which I was reluctantly falling. Perhaps in a little while. | 4 |
3,822 | Honeymoon | "Aren't you going to carry me over the threshold?"
"This isn't our home," I answered. "Just a weekend cottage."
"Still..."
Still.
And so, I picked her up and carried her through the doorway, across the threshold and into the cottage. Well, maybe cottage is a bit misleading; really, it's more of a small mansion. My parents, however, had always referred to it as the "cottage," and who was I, now that they had passed away, to say any different.
"Uhmph..." I groaned as I carried my young bride down the entrance hall.
"Oh, stop it," she frowned, feigning anger. "I'm not so heavy as all that." She wriggled out of my arms and put her feet on the floor. She was right. Kate was a slender girl; not heavy at all. "Of course," she added, grinning, "you *are* an older man. Don't want to cause a heart attack."
"You..."
With a giggle, she took off down the hallway. I gave chase, but held back a bit, aware of my dignity. Perhaps too aware; Kate was always teasing me about being too stuffy. Well, easy for her to say. Kate was in her early twenties, over twenty-five years younger than myself. She was a master's student, doing her final year in history at the university. I had met her at a fundraiser for the university museum. One of my companies was a regular donor. We had started talking and, well... one thing led to another.
And here we were.
She let me catch up to her at the bottom of the stairs. "Old man," she laughed as I put my arms around her and drew her to me for a long, passionate kiss. When we finally broke apart, her breathing was shallow. "Hmmm...," she whispered, running her tongue along her lower lip. "Maybe not so old."
We kissed again.
I really can't say what she saw in me.
As I said earlier, I'm quite a bit older than her. Not old, exactly, but *older*. And Kate, well she was as beautiful a girl as I'd ever met: tall, slender, elegant... there weren't enough adjectives to do her justice. With her long, blonde hair, blue eyes and exquisite features, she could have been a model. I think that she could have had any man she'd wanted.
And she chose me.
"I have a surprise for you."
She raised her eyebrows. "A surprise?" She gave me that lopsided grin I'd come to know so well. "I love surprises."
I gestured towards the stairwell. "Upstairs," I told her. "In the spare bedroom."
"Mmmm..." She began walking up the stairs. I followed close behind. "I *love* surprises," she repeated.
I must admit, I was more than a little nervous as we walked across the landing towards the closed bedroom door. Kate was sexually adventurous - *god*; no one knew that better than me - but I wasn't sure whether I'd gone too far with this particular surprise. Kate also - and once again, I knew this better than anyone - had a vindictive streak in her. She was slow to hate, but when she did hate... well, it ran deep.
And so...
"C-Carl?"
"I believe," I said quietly, trying to sound more confident than I was, "you know Andrea."
For the first time since I'd met her, Kate was at a loss for words. Maybe that's not too surprising, given the sight that awaited her in the spare bedroom.
It was Andrea Cross.
Or, rather, Professor Cross.
Of course, Kate knew her. Professor Cross was - had been - a teacher in the English department at the university where Kate had begun her master's degree in English and history. She had been Kate's tutor, and the single major reason why Kate had dropped the English component of her course. For some reason, the woman had taken it into her head to do everything she could to make certain that Kate failed out: unbearable course load; unreasonable schedule; impossible assignments... the works. Kate had borne it as best she could until halfway through the spring term before dropping the English courses. I tried to talk her out of it. It seemed like such a waste, particularly with Professor Cross going on sabbatical the following term, but Kate, in tears, had had enough. 'She couldn't,' she told me, eyes red, 'bear another moment with Cross.'
Well, maybe.
Professor Cross - no, I really should call her Andrea, I suppose - was in her late thirties, only six years younger than myself, but she really didn't look it. From Kate's description, I had expected some cranky old battleaxe, and the first time I saw her - crying and struggling wildly as her clothing was cut away in the back of a moving van - I had been more than a little surprised. She was a slender woman, with small, well-formed breasts and rich, shoulder-length auburn hair. If it hadn't been for her face - she had one of those thin-lipped, severe faces - she might have been beautiful.
I had seen her a number of times in the month since she had been taken: naked with her arms tied high above her head and her small breasts shining with sweat, striped red with the whipping she had just received; kneeling in front of one of Mistress Angela's guards, heavily made-up lips wrapped around his cock while having her naked ass caned; squat-fucking herself on a massive dildo which had been stuck on a sawhorse, all the time rubbing her small breasts and moaning in simulated passion that she was a 'slut' and a 'whore' and that she needed to be fucked... but the sight of the woman as I entered the room behind Kate took my breath away once again.
Mistress Angela had outdone herself.
Andrea was on the bed, lying on her back. She was almost naked, wearing nothing but a leather collar, nylons held up with garters, and a pair of bright red pumps (at least six-inch heels) strapped onto her feet. Well, that's not entirely true; she did have a thick leather strap around her middle to which her wrists were cuffed, but I don't know if that really counts for clothing. Her legs were spread, held apart by a spreader bar to which her ankles were attached. I noted that Mistress Angela had cut Andrea's hair quite short, in a spiky punk style, and dyed it a bright red. Nice touch.
Oh, I suppose I should mention the small, gold nipple rings to which a pair of cheery little bells had been attached. Mistress Angela had thought it a bit early for them, but I wanted everything to be perfect.
For Kate.
Andrea looked over at us as we entered the room, but didn't say anything. Her face, however, reddened when she recognized her ex-student.
"Oh my god... Carl." Kate walked slowly forward, her hands clenched together in front of her mouth. "What have you done?"
"Do you like the surprise?" Was it too much for her? Nervous, I walked past my new wife and over to the side of the bed where the bound woman waited silently. "She's perfectly trained." I reached down and put the back of my hand to Andrea's mouth. She flushed an even deeper red, her eyes darting between Kate and myself, but the training held. Hesitantly at first, but then with more enthusiasm, she extended her tongue and began to lick my hand.
An obedient dog.
Kate just watched, her blue eyes wide.
After a few moments, I extended my middle finger. Andrea stopped licking my hand; instead, she took the finger into her mouth and began sucking on it while making quiet moaning sounds. I watched Kate, but I was completely unable to gauge her reaction. Was she angry? Horrified? I couldn't tell. She just stood there, watching.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
I reached down and unzipped my pants. "She's spent the last month in training," I explained to my silent bride. "Being turned into the perfect slut. She's now not only able, but willing to satisfy a man or woman with any part of her body." On cue, my penis fell away from my pants, long and hard. Andrea let out a quiet moan and raised her head, straining her neck for a chance to taste it. I obliged, kneeling on the side of the bed. The bound woman twisted her upper body and took my cock in her mouth. I reached down, grabbed a handful of red hair, and pulled her head forward until her face was buried in my crotch. "See." I looked over at Kate, who still had not said anything. "She's been trained to have no gag reflex; she can take a cock almost all the way down her throat." I looked down at the top of the professor's head.Mistress Angela had recounted to me the countless hours of cocksucking practice Andrea had been subjected to before she had gained this skill.
It had been worth it.
I released her head and she slid her lips down my cock, all the time sucking and working her tongue. It was exquisite. Practice had indeed made perfect.
Still, Kate had said nothing.
Worried, I pulled my cock away from Andrea's mouth. A line of drool connected us for a moment, but then fell loose across the woman's chin. She fell back to the bed as I stood up and replaced my cock in my pants.
What was Kate thinking? Had I gone too far? Perhaps I had misjudged her; I had thought that she would be delighted to see her former tormentor brought so low, but maybe...
"Kate?"
Finally, she spoke. "Why," she asked quietly, "doesn't she say anything?"
I turned back to where Andrea lay on the bed, staring at us. "She's been trained to keep silent," I told her. "Slaves don't speak unless they've been given permission."
"Slave." Kate turned that word over in her mouth, trying it out; tasting it. "Sla-a-ve."
I stood in silence, waiting for Kate's reaction. For the first time, I felt a wave of real fear pass through me. I didn't want to lose Kate. I couldn't...
She turned to me.
Her eyes were shining.
Tears?
"Oh Carl," she said, her face turning into one big, lopsided smile, "this is wonderful." I let out a loud sigh; I hadn't realized it, but I had been holding my breath. "Can I try her out?" She turned back to the bed. "Can I use her?"
"Of course," I answered, smiling myself. "That's what she's here for."
Kate immediately reached down and pulled up her skirt, giving me a view of her long, stocking-clad legs. She grabbed ahold of her panties, pulled them down and slithered out of them, letting them fall to the floor. Then she clambered up onto the bed and swung a leg over Andrea, straddling her new slave with her thighs. Grinning, Kate reached down and took one of Andrea's breasts in her hand. She fondled it for a moment, paying special attention to the ring and bell. Then she gave it a vicious pinch, eliciting a small cry from Andrea. "Oh, you bitch," my wife growled. She shook back her blonde hair and then shifted her body so that her panty-less crotch was positioned over the mouth of the bound woman. "Suck me, bitch," she ordered, grinding her crotch downward and letting her skirt fall over Andrea's face. Andrea must have obeyed, because Kate immediately got that dreamy look on her face as she slowly rode up and down on the other woman's mouth.
My mind went back to the first time Andrea had been forced to service another woman with her tongue. Mistress Angela had used Cynthia, a fat black woman, to train Andrea in the art of pussy sucking. It had been about a week into her training; Andrea had been pretty much broken and obedient by then, but it still took a solid caning before she would stick her tongue in her trainer's pussy.
I had been present for the first time, and remembered Andrea, tears streaming down her cheeks, nuzzling her face between the black woman's heavy thighs, sucking and licking for all she was worth. All the while keeping her reddened ass stuck out for the cane in case her black mistress detected a lack of enthusiasm. Cynthia had come, after a while, but had been far from satisfied with her student's performance. She had given Andrea a stern lecture and then forced the university professor to do it all over again, all the time calling out instructions, orders and threats.
I'd left soon after. According to Angela, it had taken almost two weeks of pussy and ass sucking, and, ultimately, toilet duties, before Cynthia had grudgingly admitted that Andrea had developed any facility at satisfying another woman.
That long hours of hard work had clearly paid off, as my lovely bride's cries and moans demonstrated. Professor Cross clearly knew her way around a pussy. Kate was now bucking up and down, riding her ex-teacher's face like it was a bucking horse.
Excited, I walked forward and ran my hands along the inside of Andrea's thighs. Andrea's legs were held apart by a spreader bar, and her pussy was clearly visible. It was, of course, completely devoid of hair. On Mistress Angela's recommendation, I had ordered that she be shaved, both in front and in back, and then subjected to electrolysis. Andrea was now permanently hairless.
I reached down and slid a finger into her exposed pussy.
Wet.
I smiled. Mistress Angela had done her job well. Slave Andrea was as helpless to control the humiliating reactions of her own body as she was to refuse the commands of her owners. It was perfect; her mind was still her own - she must be hating every moment of her subjugation and slavery - but her body couldn't help but react like a slave.
Since she was getting so excited, I decided to help out. I walked across the room, picked up a large banana from a bowl of fruit and returned to the bed. Kate was about done now, bouncing up and down on the bed as though it was a trampoline. I reached down and slowly slid the banana into the teacher's sopping pussy. She clenched her thighs, trying to prevent the penetration, but was helpless to stop it. I kept pushing, and managed to get it completely inserted, with only the tip sticking out, when Kate came.
I stood back and watched as my gorgeous bride bounced and screamed on the bed, her head thrown back and long, blonde hair flying all over the place. I'd never seen her come so hard, which was a little disconcerting, but I resolved not to be insulted. I had, after all, been responsible for placing this woman at her control. It must be more than a little satisfying for her to have control of the woman who had caused her so much anguish over the last year or so.
"Oh gawd, that was intense."
Kate brushed back a lock of blonde hair from her sweaty forehead as she pushed herself up to her knees and slid off the bed. Andrea gasped for air as her face appeared from under Kate's skirt. Her features were red and shiny with the younger girl's pussy juice.
Kate stood beside the bed, grinning down at her former teacher and readjusting her skirt. "Carl... how did you do this?" She turned towards me. "This bitch is supposed to be on sabbatical."
"That's what made it so easy," I told her. "She's supposed to be travelling in Europe. No one expects to see her for the next few months. It was dead easy to pick her up for... training, I guess you'd call it." I looked into my bride's shining blue eyes. "I know how much pain she caused you over the last year. I wanted to give you the perfect gift."
"Oh Carl..." Kate skipped forward and hugged me. "It *is* perfect; there are so many things I want to do to her!" We kissed. When she broke away, she dropped her hand to my crotch and felt the bulge. "Oh," she giggled, "but I'm being selfish, looking after my own needs while my husband goes unsatisfied." She looked over at where Andrea lay on the bed. "Does she suck cock as well as she sucks pussy?"
I smiled, thinking of the countless hours Mistress Angela had forced Andrea to practice her cock-sucking, first on dildos, then men, slowly training her to deep throat. In fact, I remembered the very first time. Andrea had to be strapped down and fitted with an O-gag so that she wouldn't bite. The trainer had crouched over her face and slid his huge cock into her mouth through the gag. Andrea had moaned and thrashed about, the tears streaming down her cheeks, but couldn't stop him from fucking her mouth until he came, shooting ropes of sperm all over her face and upper body.
She had come a long way since then.
"Oh, I think that she can manage something of that sort."
Kate laughed.
Within a few moments, we had Andrea kneeling on the floor. Her bonds were unchanged; we had just pulled her down and over the foot of the bed, so that she was kneeling with her legs spread. The banana slid out about an inch or so, causing Kate to laugh again.
"You've shaved her," she noted, looking at Andrea's bare crotch.
Andrea's face turned red again. "It's permanent," I told her, once again unzipping my fly. "It'll increase her resale value."
Kate looked puzzled at that, but didn't say anything. Instead, she ran her long, cool fingers over my rapidly hardening penis and then guided it into Andrea's waiting mouth. Then she stood back and watched as her ex-teacher sucked hungrily at my penis. I didn't use my hand to hold or help her; I just stood there as she moved her mouth up and down on my penis, alternately sucking and then running her tongue up and down its length.
Once again, the practice had paid off.
She was a wonderful cocksucker.
Kate just watched for a few moments, making only the occasional comment regarding the technique displayed by her ex-teacher. I must say, I was right about her being able to hold a grudge.
"You said something about 'resale value'?"
"Yes." I fell silent for a moment as Andrea's tongue did the most exquisite things at the base of my penis. "It costs a lot of money to train a slave, particularly when they're not entirely... well, willing, to be blunt." I slid my cock back and she teased the tip with her lips. "Once they're trained," I continued, "however, there are a lot of people willing to pay good money for them."
"Who? Where?"
"Well, the Middle East is always good; there's always room in a harem for a well-trained white woman." Andrea moaned in fear. "There are a number of establishments in Mexico - well, two I can think of off the top of my head - that pay for new 'employees'." I looked over at Kate; her hand had dropped to her crotch and her face had taken on that dream-like quality I knew so well.
She was really enjoying this.
"And there's always South America.I understand that there are any number of drug lords or heads of state who would enjoy a new 'mistress'.
Kate let out a small moan. She walked around behind where Andrea was kneeling at my feet, threw her arms around my shoulders, and ground her crotch into the back of Andrea's head. This forced the bound woman to take my cock all the way into the back of her throat just as Kate brought her lips to mine for a long passionate kiss. We kissed for a few moments, and then broke apart, breathing heavily; Kate continued to grind her crotch against the back of her ex-teacher's head, causing the bound woman to slide her lips up and down on my cock in time with the pressure. No more of that wonderful technique, but by then it didn't really matter. And, of course, the feel of Kate against me more than made up for any deficiency in the cock sucking department.
Not that Andrea wouldn't be whipped for it later.
Of course.
"Where else?" Kate whispered, biting my ear.
"On the other hand, there's no need to leave the U.S.," I answered, breathing heavily. "There are plenty of buyers available. I understand that there's a string of men's clubs that 'purchase' strippers to whore for them at their various clubs across the country." My thrusts became more violent as I approached orgasm. Caught between my penis and Kate's crotch, Andrea was helpless to do anything other than ride it out. Her nipple bells jingled in time with our movements. "There's also a certain 'Club' in California that's always looking for new talent." I began to move my hips faster now, thrusting forward as Andrea ground down. The bells jingled steadily now. Almost...
"And, of course, there are the usual bikers or pimps who would be more than willing to take this slave off our..."
I could hold it no longer. With a groan, I jammed my penis down Andrea's throat and held it there as it stiffened and then released jet after jet of sperm into her mouth. Just as I did that, Kate let out a loud moan, and stiffened, all the while frantically running her crotch up and down along the back of Andrea's head.
"Oh gawd..." My beautiful wife wrapped her long legs around behind me and shoved hard with her crotch, pushing Andrea's face even further down onto my penis, if that was possible. Kate hugged me close, and we engaged in a long kiss as we both orgasmed while Andrea gagged and gasped for air.
It seemed to last forever, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or so before we broke apart, both of us panting like we'd run a marathon. Kate unwrapped her legs and put them back on the floor. We stood like that for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes.
I loved that woman so much...
I felt a continued sucking at my penis and looked down. Andrea, red-faced with the effort of holding her breath with my cock jammed down her throat, was still sucking at it, cleaning it. As she had been taught.
Kate let out a short, vicious laugh.
"Darling," she said quietly, toying with my hair. "I know it cost a lot of money to train her and everything, and I really like the thought of her being sold like you said... but... but, can we keep her? Just for a bit? We can always sell her later."
I smiled.
I had sort of been expecting this.
"Of course," I answered. "She's my honeymoon present to you. You can keep her for as long as you like. I've had the kennel fixed up in the basement so she'll have a place to..."
Kate cut me off with a long kiss of thanks.
This was one purchase I wouldn't regret.
Afterwards, I pulled my cock away, and Kate stood back, leaving Andrea kneeling on the floor, her legs spread on the bar and hands still fastened to her waist belt. I turned to Kate to say something, but then...
"P-please."
It was Andrea. I looked down sternly. She had spoken without permission. Well, Mistress Angela had warned me that she wasn't fully trained. The slave would, however, be punished for it later.
"If you have something to say," I told her, "address it to your new mistress." I gestured towards Kate.
Kate grinned. "What is it, sla-a-ve?" She was still enjoying the word.
"Please, mistress," Andrea begged in a small voice. "Please. Can I... c-come?"
I looked a little closer and saw that the banana that I had inserted in her pussy was now three-quarters out and rested partially on the floor. Andrea was trying to spread her legs further so that she could press downward and create pressure on her clit. She was attempting, in short, to fuck herself with the banana.
Kate and I both laughed.
Here was Professor Andrea Cross, clad in a leather collar and bound on her knees with her hairless pussy exposed to the world, small bells jingling as they hung from the nipple rings on her naked breasts as she gasped for breath, her face shiny with pussy juice, sweat and sperm... and was she begging to be let go? To be released from her humiliating bondage? No; she just wanted to come, and was trying desperately to squat fuck herself on a banana. Mistress Angela had done a splendid job; in one month she'd turned a university professor into a whining, crawling slave slut.
I'd have to make certain that there was a bonus included with the final payment.
Kate walked forward and ran her hand through her slave's short, red hair. "I don't think so," she said, kneeling down so that her face was directly opposite Andrea's. She reached down and slid the banana back up into her ex-teacher's sopping pussy. "I expect you to keep that banana in your cunt until I tell you otherwise. And you don't come until I say. Do you understand?"
Andrea whimpered, but managed to stammer out a "Yes mistress."
"Good." Kate smiled. She brought her hand up and began toying with Andrea's breasts, cupping one in her hand and then letting it fall free. The bells in Andrea's nipple rings jingled whenever she did this. "We have lots of things to discuss about last year," Kate said menacingly.
"Yes mistress."
Kate stood and turned to me. "And as for you," she grinned, "it occurs to me that we haven't consummated our marriage yet. And this seems like the perfect time and place."
She patted the bed.
I stared at her, flustered. "But... I don't think..."
My bride just grinned. She walked up to me and gave me a long kiss. "Don't worry," she whispered, "I'm sure you'll be 'up for it'. Under the right conditions."
And do you know, she was right.
THE END | 4 |
3,832 | The Tribunal (humil, FF, FM, Fdom) Part 6 : The End | "Fine, then you may leave for the day as it's nearly 5 o'clock anyway," Miss Locksbridge said. "You will be using the local Hilton this evening while we make several alterations to the inside of your house. Here is your room key; everything you need will be there for you. See you tomorrow."
"Mistress L, may I take a piss and clean up before I leave?" Angela asked desperately, realizing she'd not been for a piss since before they were caught fighting earlier and that the stream of cum running down her legs was not yet stopping.
"Of course you may, slut," replied Miss Locksbridge. "Feel free."
Angela moved for the door.
"No, she said 'feel free,' not 'leave the room.' If you want a piss, then feel free, but you're not going anywhere," insisted Sam.
Angela wanted to protest, but after considering her options for a second, she began to squat down to take a piss on the floor, right in front of the two women.
"You need to learn a little more quickly, slut," said Sam impatiently. "Now stand up and ask again."
"Mistress Sam," Angela said slightly confused, "may I take a piss and clean up, please?"
"Of course, Angela," replied Sam. "If you need a piss, feel free. Have one now, right now, as you are."
Angela then knew what she meant. She would have to do it, right there where she stood if she was going to do it at all. She bowed her head slightly in humiliation and said, "Yes. Thank you, Mistress."
She parted her legs slightly and relaxed the control of her bladder. After a second's pause, the warm urine began to gush from her. As it flowed, the huge amounts of cum she had in her began to flow with it. Angela stood for over half a minute pissing for her mistresses, the warm liquid running over her legs. Load after load of cum oozed out of her and down her lush legs. When she was finally finished, the floor was awash with urine and cum. Angela couldn't believe that amount of sperm had been inside her, and at the same time knew she must have nearly the same amount in her ass.
"Is that better, slut?" Miss Locksbridge asked.
"Yes. Thank you, Mistress L.," replied Angela, her head still down.
"Fine, now get out," ordered Sam. "Oh, if the bell boy at the hotel wants a tip tonight, let him fuck your ass, and if the maid wants one when she does your bed tonight, offer to eat her pussy. OK?"
"Yes, Mistress L.," answered Angela as she closed the door behind her.
"Have you rung Paul and Sarah at the hotel?" Sam asked Miss Locksbridge when the door closed.
"Yes, they're both going to make sure they get Angela's room on their shift tonight. Paul's going to really test her resolve, I think, and Sarah is going to be interesting for her too," she replied.
Angela lay in bed that night, exhausted and aching after her exploits. The bell boy had pulled the vibrator roughly from her ass before fucking her with his huge cock. It wasn't as long as the vibrator, but it was a good inch wider. She couldn't believe how unlucky she was to get someone with a cock like that. She thought she would split in two as he sawed in and out of her battered asshole, but she came heavily despite the pain as he shot yet another load of cum into her.
When the maid had finished making the bed, Angela had hoped she'd just leave and wait for a tip the next morning. She was not to be put off, though, and Angela did as she was ordered.
"You want a tip?" she asked. "Well, let me do something for you instead."
With that, she just went for it. If the maid ran off, she'd done her bit anyway. But the maid never moved as Angela dropped to her knees in front of her. Angela pushed her skirt up, slid her panties completely off, and dived straight into her nicely trimmed pussy.
Thirty minutes later, Angela was starting to grow tired. This woman had moaned and groaned, wriggled her ass around, and oozed juices all over Angela's face, but just wouldn't cum.
"Fucking hell, don't you ever cum?" gasped Angela.
"My mistress told me I couldn't cum until you told me to, but not to tell you that unless you asked," the maid explained.
"Who's your mistress?" Angela asked.
"Mistress L.," she replied, and then it all fell into place.
"Oh god...look, you can cum now," Angela said, feeling totally defeated.
Angela began to lick the maid's cunt once more, and she came within seconds, flooding Angela's face with cum and groaning loudly. With that, she picked up her panties and walked out of the room.
As Angela fell asleep, she considered just how much control Mistress L had over the maid. Simply telling her not to cum had stopped her from submitting to the orgasm she had yearned for since 5 minutes after Angela had started. Her last thought was that this was the same control Sam would have over her in no time at all...and even though she was showered and rested, she fell asleep with a damp pussy.
Angela awoke after a night's sleep full of erotic dreams of bizarre bondage at work, gang-bangs in an office, and fucking the hotel staff. She was amazed at how vivid they'd been too. She thought a little more about them as she dressed quickly in the only outfit in the wardrobe. No underwear today, she thought, as she realized that she'd not got any with her. That wasn't unusual for her, nor was her presence in the hotel they used when they had early morning shoots. What was unusual was a blouse like this; it was a little brazen, and the fact that she couldn't remember what the shoot was that morning. She was sure that Tracy would tell her when she got to work, though. Tracy? Wasn't she in that dream somewhere? She rushed from her room and straight to the office, amazed that her asshole still hurt after letting that male model do her in the rear last week. She was sure it had been getting better.
"Morning, Tracy," Angela said with indifference.
"Oh good morning, Angela," replied Tracy from behind her desk, a little too enthusiastically, Angela thought.
"Can you tell me what I've got on this morning?"
"Well, you've got a busy day today. The first thing you can do, though, is come round here and help me with this," Tracy said, turning her chair to the side.
"What?" asked Angela impatiently. "What do you need help...oh god!"
Angela rounded the desk and watched as Tracy hitched her short skirt up to her waist, showing off her stockings and a lack of panties.
"Oh fuck! It wasn't a dream!" croaked Angela.
"Well, it's a dream come true for most of us, you whore. Now finger your pussy and eat me 'til I cum, slut," laughed Tracy.
Angela fell to her knees in submission, finger buried in her moist cunt, and began the first day in her new job. Company Slut.
The End - Probably...
B. | 3 |
3,861 | "Stocking Filler" | "It'll be brilliant. A real laugh," he'd said, and I had to agree with him, though I had my reservations. My husband, God bless him, was going to go the full Monty this Christmas and dress up as Santa.
"You know the boys are old enough - and savvy enough - to stay awake to try to catch him this year. But as long as I'm disguised in the full regalia when the little buggers leap out of the wardrobe, the Christmas mystique'll be preserved to the hilt. You can't say that's not a great idea."
It happened that a colleague of James had a Father Christmas outfit he was prepared to lend out. His own kids had grown out of Santa. James assured me that this was not only *an* outfit but *the* outfit, an extremely high-class job with stage-quality whiskers and real red velvet.
So why wasn't I brimming with enthusiasm? Well, it was my husband's happy and ever-present knack of ballsing up simple domestic tasks - fixing the shower attachment so the only thing that got wet was the ceiling, managing to weld his toecaps together... Little things like that.
"OK, sweetheart. You know how soppy I am about Christmas and the kids. It's a great idea. Very thoughtful. But no trying to come down the chimney. Don't forget the work we had done when they put in the new boiler!"
With many promises of seemly conduct, my chirpy robin redbreast of a husband set off for the office on Christmas Eve, promising to knock my socks off with a superb bit of costuming at the witching hour.
Well, I had plans of my own, but they'd have to wait. Wait while I wrapped stocking fillers, baked gingerbread, peeled vegetables for tomorrow's feast, entertained small boys and hid dozens of packages. We live in a big old house, but it's amazing how soon you run out of hiding places....
Seven o'clock came; supper time for the boys, and my beloved staggering home at last after battling his way through commuter hell: white, tired and carrying a large parcel. It's been a long year for both of us. He collapsed with a stiff drink, the Christmas TV guide and a marker pen.
Two small boys to bathe, to read to and tuck in. I gaze at them fresh out of the bath: perfect limbs, chubby feet, silky blonde hair, sparkling eyes. They look unfeasibly angelic. "Now be sure to get to sleep straight away. You know Father Christmas won't come if you're awake."
"Yes, mummy!" comes the chorus. Far too perky for children due for imminent sleep. Ah well, this year we have a secret weapon. Or two.... I smile to myself.
Oh, well, onward and upward. Mummies don't stop. A happy, tiring evening for me - icing the Christmas cake to look like snow and arranging the traditional porcelain Santa on top, baking a few last-minute mince pies, ironing tiny best clothes for the morning (bringing as it would the witness of the grandparents' relentless video cameras...) James slumps in front of the box, soaking in my quiet domestic bustle. He likes housework. Could watch it for hours...
James is looking forward to watching a late thriller. I lie to him. I have some final preparations before midnight mass, I say. If you do the stocking delivery when your movie finishes, I'll see you in the living room around 1am... I give him a little wink. He grins back. We're already planning a little celebration of our own, but I want to conceal the time I'll need for my secret additional preparations for this erotic appointment....
But I'm not going to church. At midnight, I slip upstairs through the shadows and into the upstairs bathroom with a couple of expensive-looking bags. I light candles in the wall sconces, run myself a long, warm bath and produce my present from myself from the first carrier. I've bought myself a complete set of Chanel 19 products, and lollop glorious scented oil into the water with a lavish hand. I pile my hair on my head and slide down into the milky water. Half an hour of luxurious drifting. Lying in the perfumed steam, I stroke my pussy lips, squeeze my breasts, flick my nipple tips...
Sensing myself drift into drowsy sexual reverie, I pull myself together and clamber out, relishing enjoying the warm but bracing snowdrift of our best towels. I've got things to do, and I'm too tired to relax. If I'm going to be ready to surprise James, I must at least keep awake! Weaken once, and I'll be out like a light 'til morning...
Gleaming in the candlelight, I smooth body lotion up my legs and body, paying special attention to my breasts and thighs. None between my legs, though - strong perfume and pussy don't mix - not unless you fancy hopping about on one leg for ten minutes.
Sitting on the loo with my feet on the edge of the sink, I paint my toenails scarlet. While they dry, I stick false ones in the same shade on my fingertips. Used to be I had lovely hands, but nowadays, with my lifestyle, elegant nails have become something I have to buy.
Now for makeup. The whole works. James doesn't go for the natural look. "Slap it on, girl!" he always urges. "Let glamor be our watchword." I smile to myself, because James has no idea of my secret. He's expecting passion, yes, but he's expecting the housewife with her tousled allure - not a full-on temptress under the tree.
Dusky eye-shadow, lashings of mascara, glitter highlights on the browbone, eyeliner to provide that Bambi look. A startled fawn for my big buck. Lastly, the lips. I outline them carefully with crimson, filling in with a brighter red and polishing off with gloss. A mouth as red and shiny as holly berries. A cock-sucking mouth. I'll stripe him like a candy cane. Poor bugger won't know what's hit him.
Now for the second bag. I open it and peek in, relishing the monogrammed tissue paper. This was a very expensive treat. The bag is extremely light. Silk *is* light, after all. And when I slip the items one by one from the bag, I am certain James will be only too pleased to find the bill on our credit card statement.
Scarlet garterbelt, split-crotch panties, tiny lace bra and a gauzy wrap. Obvious, yes, but saved from sleaze by the sheer quality and cut of the garments. Besides which, they don't make flimsy bras in my size at the cheaper end of the market. At least that's my excuse.
I've bought stockings too, sheer black with a proper seam at the back. Fantasy stockings. I already have the shoes. Tiny red peeptoes with a four-inch spike heel. Of course, I can't actually walk in the damn things - but then I didn't buy them for that!
As I put on my new lingerie, I study myself in the mirror. Leaning forward to settle my heavy breasts properly in the cups, I grin at my reflection. I'm not the slim girl James married. Time, my own good cooking and pregnancy have seen to that. But I'm deliciously feminine. My breasts aren't as high as they were, but - my, my - *aren't* they full now! As for my nipples, they're outrageous - jutting, dark and assertive. My wider hips are compensated for by the still-narrow waist, and my legs are long and elegant.
Certainly, my husband's demonstrations of affection haven't lessened over the years. He likes to use silly Victorian expressions - "demonstrations of affection". He likes to tease me about how I can still get him hard with just a look.
Straightening up, I adjust my stockings one last time, slip the robe over my shoulders and loosen my hair. The thick dark waves fall down my back. I've tweaked a couple of white hairs out of my hairline during the past year, but otherwise, I still look pretty good. I know James will think so, anyway.
I gaze at myself questioningly - at the finished effect. I think I look gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as I did ten years ago, but still gorgeous. I know James will show his appreciation with immense and varied dedication..... But I wonder to myself if he'd really desire me as much if he didn't love me so deeply. Just how attractive am I these days? James sees me with the eyes of love, and I see myself through his eyes. But what would a stranger think? Would he see an overweight middle-aged woman? Past her best?
Morbid thoughts. Christmas is a time for morbid thoughts - that's why the suicides, the family break-ups, the traditional ghost stories. Literally, I shake off my doubts.As I toss my head, my long hair shines and ripples under the candlelight.
I love James, and he loves me. We have two precious little ones sleeping down the landing. At least in theory they're sleeping. I won't check, though. If they're not asleep, my appearance will trigger a whole new round of requests for drinks, stories, or teddy-retrieval. But we have love in this house, and I shouldn't doubt it. "Don't be silly, girl," I order silently.
It's 12:45 now, and James will be up to do the stockings soon. Yes, I can hear his tread on the stairs; there's one that creaks. I blow out the candles. Now he tiptoes past the bathroom door, and I can hear him creeping along the corridor towards the boys' rooms. He must be round the corner by now. Santa Claus is coming to town.
Sneaking the door open silently, with my slut-wife shoes clutched in one hand, I slip out of the bathroom and am down the stairs like a scarlet ghost before James can spot me. I'll be waiting in the living room for him. I grin to myself at the thought of his face when he sees me. He loves me dressed up.
I creep into the living room. Deserted, as I hoped. There are no logs in our huge stone fireplace. There never are, these days, thanks to clean air regulations, but the gas fire is beautifully warm. Turning out all the other lights, but leaving the tree ones to sparkle multicolored on my flesh, I skip over to the hearth and lie down in front of the fire. We've got a couple of diehard old sheepskins inherited from my parents. The fleece is still thick and soft. A couple of cushions off the sofa make a comfy couch, and, slipping on my slut shoes, I snuggle down in Christmassy expectation.
I'm all ready to surprise my own darling Santa on his return from a successful mission. The dark corners of the big high-ceilinged room are hung with evergreens, and the scent of tree and leaf fill the air with aromatics. It's so quiet.... So warm, so quiet - so blissfully peaceful. The only sounds are the whisper of the fire and the faintest patter of needles falling off the Christmas tree....
Blinking, I gaze at Santa. I must've dropped off. Hardly surprising: all that peeling and baking would wear out an Olympic athlete, not to mention wrapping two dozen stocking fillers.... Still, he's here now. And it is a good costume. In fact, it's a bloody good costume. Admittedly the light's poor, but his own mother wouldn't recognize him. James is Father Christmas to the life.
I stretch and sit up, smiling. "Happy Christmas, darling. What did Daddy say when he caught Mummy kissing Santa?" OK, it's corny, but then I'm corny.
I recline on the rug again, stretching like a cat to flaunt the opening in my panties. "Come here and try a taste of this," I invite.
"Not bloody likely. Look what it's done to your knickers!"
It's James's joke, but it's not James's voice. It's richer, fruitier, a touch of an accent. He's playing a game. He's going to stay in character. I always feel awkward playing a part, but I'll give it a go.
"Have you got a present for a good little girl, Santa?" I breathe, all Marilyn Monroe.
"Sure have, sweetie," he replies. "Come here and have a feel in my pockets."
Clambering to my feet, I sashay over to him (can't not sway in these shoes) and wrap my arms around his waist. Not very far round, though. James must be wearing padding. OK, he's no longer slim (my cooking again, I'm afraid) but he's quite a bit slimmer than this. It really is a very good costume. The velvet is thick and luxurious. I slip a hand into his pocket as Santa leans down to kiss me. Our lips meet as I sink into his dear embrace.
"HOLY SHIT! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"
I'm electric with panic. This isn't James. No way is it James. For one thing, there's a difference between the perfectly honed kiss that comes from ten years of practice with the same person and the velvety expertise of a great kisser you never met before. For another, there is no pocket in Santa's suit. It just goes straight through to warm naked flesh - and there's a lot more flesh there than James has ever possessed. Loads.
In a split second, I've realized I'm cuddling a strange man dressed as Father Christmas. A strange, very fat man dressed as Father Christmas. Where is James? Are the kids OK? Are they alive! What the fuck's going on?
With a small shriek, I pull away, staring in horror at the stranger under my Christmas tree.
He smiles at me like sunshine, his big brown eyes crinkling gloriously, his broad grin nearly hidden under his snowy mustache and beard, his white prawn eyebrows dancing. His smile is as sweet as a child's kiss, his eyes as full of fun as a baby's laughter. He has a lot of James about him - but he isn't James. On the other hand, surely this is no psychopath? Though aren't the worst ones supposed to laugh innocently as they fillet you?
The stranger is having a weird effect on me. This old man's whole being floods merriment and sexual energy into the room, into my flesh. Half-fearful, half-delighted, I stand staring at him, tingling with excitement.
"Happy Christmas, honey!" he carols, and chuckles. And as he chuckles, I hear the distant sound of jingling bells. "You've been such a good girl all year I thought I'd give us both a special treat."
I am trying to remain stern. I am trying to remain worried. But such is the power of his merriment, the vibrancy of his shining eyes, that I feel myself soften. Soften and warm.... Warm? Bollocks. I'm getting hot.
Mentally pulling my adult authority around me - not easy in a flame silk negligee - I square up to the intruder.
"And who the hell are you? I warn you, my husband's upstairs, and we've got a top of the range security system. The police will be here in a couple of minutes."
"I'm Santa Claus, sweet stuff," the old man replies. "As imperceptible to both husbands and security systems as pixy dust. Your babies are snug abed complete with the best stockings they've ever seen. And I'm here to bring tidings of comfort and joy, among other things..." His infectious, joyful grin contains an edge of mischief. "But you modern girls are such sceptics. Tell you what...." and he vanishes.
For a moment, I stand, baffled, in an empty living room. Then I hear scrabbling and thuds behind me and, as I spin round, down our chimney pours an avalanche of chubby scarlet trimmed with black boots and white fur. Santa Claus springs to his feet in our empty grate (where's the gas fire gone?) and, dusting himself off, comes springing out onto the rug. Behind him, a huge log fire manifests in the fireplace, already in full blaze, crackling and filling the air with the scent of apple wood. The smile is even broader now, and the twinkling of his eyes puts the Christmas lights to shame.
"Santa Claus at your service, ma'am!" he chuckles. "Or Father Christmas if you prefer. Some of my lady friends like the Father C bit - gives it that naughty incestuous edge!" and, roaring with merriment, he holds out his hands.
I will not go to him though. Even if he is Father Christmas. And he is Father Christmas, I'm sure of that. For one thing, where did that all too real fire come from? For two, even the most skillful of burglars couldn't slip down our chimney.
Not since we had it bricked up last summer.... This is magic.
But magic or no, I am no adulteress. At least, not in the flesh. Dreams don't count. Not even that one about 12 Axel Roses and a double-decker bus. This big jolly stranger may be Father Christmas - he might be the man in the moon for all I care. Makes no difference, what matters is that he isn't James. Because I am married to James - and I plan to stay that way. I stand firm.
"Ah, but it doesn't count, sweetheart," he chuckles.
"What doesn't count?" I stare, nonplussed.
"Goodness, angel!" he twinkles his eyebrows at me.
"Frankly, for a writer, you don't have a lot of imagination," Santa teases. "Surely you should have worked out for yourself that I'd have to be able to read minds. How else could I fulfill the dreams of millions of little hearts? And surely you realize that this isn't happening in real time? Or perhaps you have a logical explanation as to how I visit so many precious children in one enchanted night? Let alone the refreshments I get through!" And he gives another fat chuckle. I know that voice, somehow, but I can't place it.
I stand there with my mouth open. But I am an arm's length away from him, still uncertain.
"My darling Christmas angel, I am Santa Claus - he of a million smoking chimneys. And hot sex with Santa Claus can't possibly count as real-time infidelity. After all, you never worried about being had up for sacrilege, did you?"
I can feel myself blushing from my thighs up. All those wicked priest fantasies and me not even a Catholic. Even James doesn't know about those. It's all too shamefully true. I'm having to repress a hysterical desire to giggle. It would make novel graffiti, anyway: 'Father Christmas is a telepath!'
"Come here, you scarlet woman," he urges. "No, I'm not trying to seduce you, silly creature. I just want you to see something. A little surprise I laid on for you. I know you'll like it!"
"Come to the window," he coaxes. "I've got something to show you."
In a dream, I float towards the curtains. My negligee flutters in the draught, but somehow I'm still toasty warm. Santa Claus waves a large hand, and the curtains are open. The scene before me makes me gasp with pleasure. I feel like a child.
Anyone could set up the sleigh. At least anyone motivated enough to seduce me - and people have gone to extremes in the past. And the reindeer wouldn't be impossible. Difficult, but not impossible.
What convinces me, what carries me right over the edge, is the snow....
This, after all, is the Home Counties - nearly London. Four inches provides a year to remember.... Snow, that is.But as far as the eye can see, my familiar landscape is covered in a thick, sparkling Disney coating. It's more than white. It's more than snow. It's pluperfect Technicolor dazzle. Artistic icicles hang from every conceivable horizontal. Scatters of luminous sparkle hang in the air. My Christmas dream. Santa Claus is humming "Walking in our Winter Wonderland" as I turn and slip into his arms.
It's ages since I was this close to a fat man. And even he (naming no names) wasn't as fat as this. It's ever so cozy. Santa and I are snuggling on the hearth rug. We're doing some good old-fashioned Christmas necking. It's ages since I did this, too. Mouths - faces - in the dark, connecting - flexing, pouting. Lips parting, rippling, quivering... I run the tip of my tongue along the inside of his top lip, he tickles my palate with his... The beard's fun, too. I'm not used to beards. His mustache must be getting a bit damp though. Good thing it's real.... Play havoc with stage whiskers, I'll bet.
We speak in tongues, sometimes playful, sometimes hot - demanding. He floods my mouth with warm saliva, pumping his narrowed rigid tongue tip in and out in tiny imitation of our imminent fuck. Obvious. But sexy..... I like obvious but sexy. My body is filled with the pleasure of his nearness. Jolly bugger sends out waves of festivity - or something.....
I'm so enjoying just this kissing. James and I kiss, but not for hours. And it seems like hours, though I suppose time has been suspended. Of course, it's an additional kick that each time we part - for breath, to gaze into each other's eyes - the darkness between is hung with starry colored glitter, for all the world like cartoon magic dust.
But I'm beginning to speculate about what 'next' will be like. Because next is going to be soon.... My breathing is chaotic. Santa's is deep and even. But not crisp. He's not rushing the pace. I'm so liquid, so lustful - it looks like I'm going to have to....
New styles for new people. Santa's too fat for what James and I usually do. I'll have to go on top. Putting a hand on each shoulder, I push him gently back. Lying on his belly, head by his heart, I push a hand into each of his pockets. Warm, soft hairy flesh inside. I'm moving my hands down and together, though my scope for maneuver is limited.
"Holy fuck, Santa! What's that?" Stupid question. It feels a lot like the biggest cock I ever felt in my life. I can't get hold of it properly. Each hand can only just reach his shaft, huge and pulsing against my fingertips. I slide off him, sitting up, skidding to unbuckle that big silver buckle, wild with excitement. Strange to say, he's not laughing. Just a big, slow grin and those brown eyes full of glee...
Wrench the black belt undone, unbutton those thick velvet trousers.... I'm unwrapping Santa. Both hands diving in, like a kid in a lucky dip. He grunts as he raises his mighty buttocks off the rug so I can pull his trousers off. Must've wriggled out of those boots while we were snogging. I wouldn't have noticed if the house had burned down.
It's the biggest, most velvety, hardest gorgeous great dick I ever saw in all my wild life. "Oh, Father Christmas!" I breathe. "What a lovely surprise!"
"I call him Rudolph," Santa Claus says modestly, and giggles.
I'm one of nature's cock worshippers, so I can't help but suck it. Can't get the whole head in my mouth - impressive if frustrating - so confine myself to licking it, gripping it, hefting his huge balls in my hand. Dipping my head, I tongue the little dripping mouth, running my tongue-tip round the underside of the head, rasping the rough underside with the very edge of my bottom teeth.
I twist down between his thighs, running my tongue up his taut scrotum. Peppermint. Warm furry candy. "And visions of sugar plums danced in her head," whispers Santa.
It's a miracle. A weird, sexy miracle. I'm not rushing. After all, we have all the time in the world. I keep drawing back slightly to admire the sheer size of his beautiful cock. He's circumcised. That's a novelty, too. "I didn't know they went in for circumcision in the frozen north," I remark vaguely. Silly thing to say, really. It's not as if I know a lot about anything to do with the frozen north. "Don't tell me Father Christmas is Jewish!" I giggle.
Then I get it, the full "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Every fold bounces with mirth. His cock bounces and swoops. His eyes crinkle and tears roll down his cheeks. I'm laughing too, though what at I'm not sure. All I know is a sense of total happiness. I cuddle and giggle. We rock and nestle until gradually the great rollicking chuckles subside.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he grins at me.
"Honey, I'm American. And heavily influenced by Hollywood. Surely you've noticed the cartoon peripherals. Love 'em myself!" And he gestures to demonstrate the luminous spangles that follow his fingertips. "Pixy dust. Constant source of pleasure. And the elves. Reduced the workload - and the isolation. Oh yes, I'm largely American in my current manifestation. Invented by Coca-Cola. Thought a lady of your education would have all that at her fingertips."
Now he mentions it, I do remember something about it. "Oh yes, the red outfit and all that," I say. "But aren't you our English Father Christmas - and Saint Nicholas too?"
I feel him change. Just a little. There's still an immense warmth emanating from him, but now it is perhaps a fraction less cozy, a fraction more untamed.
"Yes and no, darling..." At last I recognize the accent. He sounds exactly like James Stewart. It figures. Oh, yes, it figures.
"I'm a Coca-Cola figurehead, and your own Father Christmas, and I'm Saint Nick who gave gold to poor girls to save them from prostitution. Nothing I hate more than commercialized sex. Sex needs freedom like wild swans need freedom. Sex is sacred to Santa Claus... Because though I may be a dozens myths in one, it helps to remember my first incarnation."
"And what was that?" I ask, chastened.
"The ancient green-coated wizard of the North who flew by night. The man of power. The life bringer. I'm a pagan. And I can be very pagan indeed..."
He grips me in his huge velvet-covered arms and the world turns over. Suddenly weightless, I am high over him as he lifts me up across his belly and lowers me onto his cock head. I gasp and cry out as the smooth rounded heat stretches my cunt. His hands are on my shoulders, gently but inexorably bearing me down on what feels an impossibly large hard-on. An image of Egyptian priestesses riding the great stone phalluses by the Nile flicks across my mind's eye. It may feel impossible but it also feels incredible. I'm going to fuck this cock if it's the last thing I do. Doesn't seem likely to be the last thing I do, though. In fact, as he forces me down and I urge myself to open to its mighty breadth, it seems as if this is the first of a million things I might do. All things are possible. I am flushed with power, with dark green shoots of vitality.
Oh yes, give me your cock! Gimme it all!" I beg. Either I am slighter or he has grown. He seems seven feet tall as he gazes up between my braced thighs. Riding his broad belly stretches me like riding a horse, and his huge, hot cock pillar feels like a tree within me - a python, twisting and growing, hot and flowering.
Flexing my thighs and calves, digging in with my heels, I jam myself down on him with a fury. I feel impossibly full, but the stretching is making me come. God, it's making me come...
The muscles deep in my cunt ripple sideways across his shaft, stretching, gripping, appreciating his godhead. My breath is deep and quiet as moonlight, my cries are far away. My back arches, the muscles in my belly ripple and shift. I can feel my hot juice all over his balls and under my arse. I have reached a stage where orgasms pump cumjuice out of me like water, where my breasts harden and my nipples ache with arousal.
Which he has noticed, and with one bound they are free. Very slick, the way he pushes both hands quickly up close to my ribcage from beneath, toppling my swollen gleaming breasts out of my bra cups in one deft motion. My nipples rage out in front, big crimson raspberries of excitement. He has both in one hand, while a sideways thumb slips down to press against my soaking mound where the root of my twanging clitoris is sealed against his cock and belly.
His palm and fingers are clenching, jerking, hard yet just right, on my nipples. I feel the rush down to my clit, where his thumb exerts a pressure that is making me buck and scream.
Just when I thought I couldn't come any harder, I am avalanching sensation. My cunt beats like a heart, holds him in a death grip. Heat consumes us, my eyes are screwed up, I pant like a dog. I am possessed as orgasm shakes me over and over again.
In a moment of white-heat clarity, my face unravels and our eyes meet. His are now as green as glass, as wild as wolves, as loving as a mother's heart. He grips my hips and arches up as I ram myself down with all my tenacity. I feel his cock in my head now, I feel my pleasure in my bones.
I shove my own hands under my breasts, jutting them out more. "I've got the whole length now. It's right up there. Every last fuckin' inch. Now you can really give it me. Go on, give it me!"
His size doesn't hinder his movements. He has me safe and tight against his huge chest and flips us over in an instant. I am flat on my back with my ankles round his ears. I'm right, he has got bigger, though he'll not crush me. His beard flows over my breasts, gentle on my hot skin. Vaguely I notice he still has half his clothes on. So do I. Not that it's any handicap....
And then he takes all his weight - and mine - off the floor and rocks us both deeper together. There is no strain, just an easy opening of my liquid pelvis wider than I dreamed possible. How can so much go so deep - feel so immensely good?He starts to fuck me, hard and deep. All my force and skill fly up to join him. His strokes are controlled but growing steadily more assertive, more insistent. I love that moment when the control goes. It has to be my favorite moment in the world. And it's coming, it's coming....
"Yes! Fuck, yes. Oh yes! Please, oh please! All the way. All the way..." I am urging him to give way, and he is teetering on the precipice and he is lunging that long, smooth, incredible stroke that breaks control and his cock slides into me faster and faster until, in the most beautiful, exquisite way, the force takes on a life of its own and slams to a beat that pumps repetitively, unmistakably, savagely.... Christmas is coming.... Oh yes, Christmas is coming.
I lose myself in that endless drenching moment but I swear that in that fleeting mystery his red velvet shoulder turned to green....
We are wrapped in each other's arms. My eyes are closed, happy tears on my face. Say what you like about muscles and so forth, fat men are so deliciously cuddly. So warm. My heart is full of candlelight. I feel newborn. I have never felt so marvelous. I could do anything. At least I could probably do anything in a little while, after we've had this nice cuddle.....
"I've got to go, sweet," he whispers tenderly and kisses my forehead. Regret and love breathe in his words. "So many stockings and pillowcases to fill, so many dreams to fulfill... So many snacks to consume..." The giggle is returning to his voice.
"Of course you do." I am returning to my own self too. No small child shall be deprived for my wild Christmas Eve. I cannot ask him to stay. But I am not sure what to say.... How to part.
The fire he created is embers now. He stands and is immaculately dressed in a second. Yet another plus point of magic I think, with some amusement. A handy trick. Very handy. Specially on school mornings. Ah well, we mortals must accept our limitations.... I am still half-sprawled on the hearth rug, drenched in sex, stockings askew. Heaven only knows what my makeup looks like now. But then, who cares?
He smiles down at me, wrapping me in loving kindness. "Happy Christmas, my good girl," he grins. "Though precisely whether you're naughty or nice is quite beyond me!"
Laughing, he steps into the fireplace. The fire roars up around him and glossy green leaves surround his wild, joyful face. "Happy Christmas!" he roars, huge, radiant and suddenly majestic.
"Why, you're the Green Man, too!" I cry.
"Knew it would come back to you eventually!" he thunders, his triangular grin splitting his beard. And the laughter grows and the flames blossom and he is gone.... Just a ripple of laughter and a distant jingling.
"Wake up, sweetheart. The kids'll be up in a minute!" I am being jiggled.
"Where.. What?"
I am on the hearthrug. My body tells me it's early morning. James is rocking me gently, his face creased with affection and sleep.
I grab my senses round me urgently. What's happening? Who's here? What've I done?
We are cuddled together in front of the gas fire. It's so warm and stuffy we must've been here all night. My Christmas lingerie is rumpled, sweaty, stained. My hair is damp. A creased Santa Claus suit, including beard, lies in a pile under the tree. James is naked, his sweet self.
So we gather up all the evidence and creep up to our chilly bedroom to set all to rights before the excited squeaks of children make the dawn chorus of our Christmas morning. Once decent in Daddy-type pajamas, James sneaks down to make us both coffee.
Grabbing the necessary bits, I whisk silently into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I've got to move fast to remove my smeared makeup and swap my sexy rags for a cheery floor-length tartan nightdress. Want to be in bed like something out of Little House on the Prairie when the kids rush through to show off their surprises.
But first I catch my own eye in the mirror and give myself a long slow appraising look. Dear, sweet Father Christmas. Pagan sex god maybe, but also kindly old gentleman. He's given me an out, a little unspoken message. "You don't need to feel guilty. After all, 'twas but a dream."
Was it fuck! He can set the scene all he likes but he's forgotten to remove the fairy dust that permeates the silk of my wrap and still sparkles on my breasts. He's also forgotten that good old joke, which I now know to be plain - and sticky - fact. "Christmas comes but once a year. But when he does he fills your stockings!"
It'll have to be a very long hot shower. Grinning, I start my day. | 4 |
3,874 | Grandma's Story | "Wow, what a night," Little Eddie smiled. "Thanks for everything." I hugged him to my breasts and told him good night. "Can we come back again, sometime?"
I smiled back, feeling genuinely tender at the pleasure he had given me, too. "Of course, sweetheart, I think we should do this again sometime if Jeff will let us!"
Jeff was just finishing the table, "Hey, I'm Mr. nice guy, here, I got left out of everything!!! When do I get my turn?"
"Jeff, you're my Grandson, after all!!!!" I protested with mock horror.
But in my heart I secretly wanted to hold him close and teach him. I had noticed how lean and wonderfully strong he looked as he lost hand after hand. "I wonder," I thought, as we closed the door behind the boys and I felt Jeff's arm around my waist...........
She had gone off to her room and Jeff to his with a cheerful "night Gram, hope you enjoyed the party??!! No regrets, I hope?"
"No, ... no regrets ...." She replied slowly. She rolled her eyes at him. "I hope it was OK with you, sweetheart ..."
"Oh, sure, .... It was ... fun. ............. You were a big hit, you know. Wonderful. I enjoyed just watching you. You really looked wonderful and young, if that's what you are wondering! I found you very ... desirable ... I can tell you that.!!!" He smiled at her with the usual affection. "Night."
She sat looking into her mirror, unsnapping her bra and letting the cups fall away from her large pear-shaped breasts. "Well, what do you really think of yourself?" she muttered, fondling her tender breasts, tender from the assault of the lips and tongues of those three eager young men. "Well, Isabel, you have been well and truly fucked, tonight!" She smiled a little at her language and the little pride that had crept into her thoughts in spite of herself. "I don't know what to think, but I do know that it was fun while it was going on."
She thought back of Billy's large black cock stretching her and stretching her as he excitedly pressed it into her. Her hand rubbed the tenderness between her legs, now matted with the combined juices of her first night of multiple lovers. "Oh" dear, it really felt good, though." She thought to herself. She slipped her panties off and down the silken path of her thighs, then loosened the garterbelt and stripped off the Christian Dior stockings all in one motion, dropping them in a tangled heap on the bench beside her.
The brisk hot water of her shower refreshed and relaxed her as it streamed down between her breasts and then cascaded off the silk covered pubic mound. She soaped between her legs, feeling the happy massage of her pussy lips. They too were a little tender from the attention they had enjoyed all evening. She bent over to examine their redness, her finger teasing her clitoris again.
She toweled off and padded down the hall to say one more good night to her grandson. Opening his door without knocking, she surprised him just coming from the shower – naked as the day he was born. Jeff started to hide himself with the towel, then decided against it, exposing the raging hard-on to his Grandma's gaze. "Oh, ... sorry, Jeff, ... I should have knocked." She shrieked and backed out the door. "Just wanted to say goodnight!"
Isabel went back to her own room. A smile escaped her lips as she thought of how proudly he had stood there completely exposed and how terrific he looked with his bulging cock standing so erect from the patch of pubic hair at his crotch.
Jeff came down the hall, wrapped in his big fluffy terry cloth bath robe with a sheepish grin, he said, "Can I come in?"
"Oh, sure, honey come on in. I'm sorry about that."
"Well, quite an evening, Gram, eh?"
"Yes, ... Quite and evening. I couldn't help noticing ... that it left you ... a little aroused, should I say."
"A little!!! That's not the word for it!" Jeff admitted. "But you've always excited me, you must know that."
"Well, yes, I guess I did. All those years. I probably even lead you on sometimes. That wasn't fair, was it?"
Jeff's hand had fallen on the heap of silkiness of her stockings lying on the bench. He jerked away self-consciously. Then put his hand back flat on the pile, feeling the silky smoothness of the nylon still clipped to the garter belt, and stared at his beautiful Grandmother sitting on her bed, her hands fiddling with her hair. Her breasts were lifted by the position of her arms and seemed to point directly at him through the thin robe she wore. The robe had parted and gave him a view of her thigh and the darkness between her legs.
"Just throw my clothes on the floor if they are in your way, dear."
"No, actually, I kind of like the touch of your silky things. Drives me crazy sometimes. Really did when I was a kid!!"
"Oh, yes, I remember now. Sometimes my underwear drawer would be a mess!" Isabel smiled at him. "It's natural enough for boys to be fascinated and excited by the mystery of all those lacy things, I think, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so, but no matter if it is or not, I can tell you it was always exciting to find that you wore something so sexy. To be honest, I would sometimes find them laying around where you left them in the bathroom ...... now that would drive me off the end! The scent of your body still clinging to them, you know."
"Aha," she smiled, "that explains some of the unusual stains I'd find in my panties, sometimes. That was you, was it?"
"Guilty," he replied, a little unhappily.
"Well, that's not so bad, Jeff, because, when that happened, I could smell your body or your juices on them. I confess to enjoying that, too. So, we're even. OK?" She stood and moved over to him hugging him to her breasts. Jeff's arms circled her. His arm low on her hips, feeling the round warmth of her.
"You know, I guess, it hasn't been fair, that you were left out of the game tonight. ............. I don't quite know what I mean. But, I know it wasn't fair to you. What can we do, though. It probably isn't right, ......... but, ........would you ... want to sleep in here ...... tonight ..., with me? I don't want to do anything which will ruin our relationship, ..... . What do you think, Jeff?"
Jeff thought about the ramifications of the question. He took a deep breath. "I think it would be great. ..... I think it would be OK, Gram, ..... I really do. How do you feel?"
Isabel rubbed his back, fondling him and feeling the warmth of his cheek against her breasts. Her nipples were responding to him already. "You know, I think we can do it. At least this once." She said at last. "Would you like me to wear some of those things you used to admire?"
"Would you? Yes, that would be great, too."
"Sure sweetheart, you pick them out."
"These would be nice for a start," he said holding her nylons and garter belt up to his cheek. He was soon rummaging in her panty drawer while Isabel added a little bath powder and a dab of perfume between her breasts, along her thighs leading to her pussy and a dab at the top of the cleft of her pussy lips. She jumped as the alcohol in the perfume stung a little in the sensitive slit.
Jeff's robe was open now displaying his hardness under a bright blue pair of bikini shorts as he handed her a matching panty and bra set. The panties very sheer and decorated with a little lace to frame her pussy, the bra also sheer, but with embroidered flowers surrounding the cups with one larger one centered where her nipples would nestle.
"Oh, good, those are pretty," she smiled at him. "So are these, by the way," stroking his shorts lightly.
She leaned over, letting her breasts fill out the cups of the sheer bra, pulling it up on her shoulders and snapping it in the back. She slipped her fingers under the band and shrugged her tits into a comfortable position. She watched Jeff's gaze taking her actions in, with an eager, unblinking stare. He licked his lips, in excitement. She loosed the stockings from the clips and then sat down to slip them up her legs. Isabel liked the feel of their silkiness on her legs. She clipped the garter belt to the stockings, slipping the straps under her panties so the panties could be slipped off later.
And last, Jeff handed her a full-length slip which slipped down to a comfortable fit on her hips and covered her jutting breasts in lace. She blinked out the light and taking his hand, she led him to her bed.
Jeff stared at her hips moving easily over her hips, lining the edge of her panty legs across the expanse of her buttock. He reached to trace the panty line across her softness.His breath was coming in short bursts.
They sat a little self-consciously on the edge of the bed. Isabel lit a candle and turned out the last light. She turned to him and, looking into his eyes, she kissed him tenderly on the lips. Jeff tasted the bright red lipstick with pleasure. "Mmmnnnh!" was all he could say as his arms surrounded her and her breasts brushed against his bare skin.
They lay back on the bed, deep in an embrace, and then Jeff lifted her legs up onto the bed, admiring the silkiness of the nylons tight on her calves. His hand teased her foot, feeling the old-fashioned seam which ran from the top of the stocking all the way down to the tip of her toes. He played with her toes under the nylon for a few moments, letting her legs extend, and he ran his fingers along her nyloned legs, and his cock became tight with his desire. Parting her knees, he kissed the hollow behind her knee, smelling the perfume she had placed there for him.
His hand was at the edge of her slip now. He looked at the delicate lace and then at his hand as it slipped under the lace to grasp her thigh flat against his palm. He felt her spread her legs slightly to give him a free range.
His hand found the top of her stocking, and his mind reeled back to how the darkness at the top of her hose looked in contrast to the thigh underneath. He moved higher, touching the smooth skin above her stocking leading to the center of her body. Jeff moved himself between her legs, his hands splitting her legs, the nylon making a shiver run down his spine.
He noticed the candlelight flickering shadows across her breasts and the swelling of her stomach above the mound of her pussy. The slip slid up her thighs before his hands. He felt the clasps of her garters under his hands and heard the sharp intake of her breath as his lips touched the curls of her pubic hair under the sheer white panties. The contrast was delicious, slightly obscured, but revealing and inviting at the same time. His tongue touched the top of the cleft. The wetness from his tongue made the fabric cling to the shape of her pussy lips, joining now with her own moistness. His tongue ran up and down the slit between her legs, his nose resting on her mound as his tongue tasted her at last. The smell of her that he remembered as a child standing there with his nose pressed against the panties she left for him after her shower. The smell was the same, but warmer, and more pungent with her perfume now. His cock was throbbing with need.
"Oh, Honey," Isabel coached, "here let me help." She slipped the crotch of her panties aside. "There, sweetheart, now you can have my real taste. Does it taste the same as you remember?"
"Oh, yes..." His tongue flicked out to delve into the copious wetness he found there, now thickly coating his tongue and his lips. Her scent and juices surrounded his mouth and cheeks as his tongue reached deep into her pussy.
"Oh, that feels... Just wonderful... Ohhhhh, ahhh... Yes, sweet..."
Isabel's hips were forcing her cunt against his burrowing tongue.
She reached for his hands now fondling the nylon-covered cheeks of her ass and pulled them to her breasts. He lay prone between her legs, his tongue licking her pussy and her clitoris, his arms along the silkiness of her body all along her sides to reach her bulging breasts through the soft silkiness of the slip and bra. Isabel felt her nipples harden against his palms as he squeezed her breasts.
They lay that way for a long time, Jeff fondling and tasting her, not wanting it to end. Her relaxing and feeling the longing in her young grandson, relaxing and enjoying the sheer pleasure of his fondling and licking of her body.
She reached for his head, moving it from side to side, spreading her legs as wide as she could, using his tongue to tease her clitoris, then pulled him up to her lips. Their tongues entwined. She could taste the bitterness of her own juices on his tongue, thick and rich.
She pulled her slip over her head and sat between Jeff's legs, looking down at the bulge in his shorts. She gently pulled the front down, and his cock stood up eagerly for her gaze. "Jeff, you are so beautiful." Slowly she wrapped her hand in the material of her slip and caressed his striving cock with its silky folds. "How's that feel, sweetheart?" she breathed.
"Great..." Jeff wheezed. Then he pulled himself around so that her pussy was again over his lips. His mouth sought her through the now wet, wet panties. Jeff felt the heat of her breath on his cock head first and then the hot warmth of her mouth as she slipped her lips around the glans of his dick, sliding it deep into her throat.
"Oh, wow..." Jeff was overwhelmed. The wetness of her throat, her tongue teasing the head of his cock, then surrounding him as she took his entire length, making her choke a little and recoil along his length. Her weight pressing against his face was a pleasure of wetness, heat, and the scent of pussy.
"Oh, Jeff, hurry," he heard her say urgently.
Quickly now, Jeff reached for her panties.
"Leave them on, if you like, honey," Isabel said. "If you like the feel of them against your cock."
Jeff laid the length of his cock along the length of her pussy lips, the wetness of their mingled juices feeling hot against the large vein down the underside of his cock. The nylon covering the wetness pooled there between her legs was a luxurious, sensual feeling better than anything he had ever felt.
"Oh, Jeff, that feels lovely. How about you, baby?"
"Yes, yes," his lips found her nipples through the thinness of the bra, pulling on the large, long, hard nubs. His cock rubbing against the softness of her pussy lips under the nylon, his lips on the nylon-covered nipples had him in ecstasy. He felt himself near cumming and rested there in the chasm of her warmth.
"Now, sweetheart, now," she urged.
Together they pulled aside the crotch of her panties to make room for him to slip into her love tunnel. He could tell it was there, open, waiting for him, waiting for him to fill his grandmother, waiting there with its warmth, its slickness, waiting for his exploding cock.
Jeff felt the head of his cock pass the panty leg, felt her pull it further aside. Felt her hand close around him and move his cock head against her clitoris, then down the slippery valley leading to her center, to her cunt tunnel.
She positioned him at the opening. "Now, sweetheart," she whispered. "Now, let's... Ohhh." He slipped quickly inside, two inches at first. Then again, he reached into her. "Ohhh..." She whispered again. "Yes, dear, that's it."
Isabel's hand pressed against his ass, urging him deeper.
Jeff felt the heat of her surround his cock. Felt her lips part and then hold onto the shaft, following the head of his cock into the dark, wetness and heat of her pussy. Gratefully, he sank his shaft all the way into her waiting, grasping, clinging cunt. He could feel the folds of her vagina surrounding him, he felt the end of her cunt channel at the tip of his dick. Her muscles surrounded him, massaging his big dick.
"Sweetheart, I had no idea... you had got so BIG! You're splitting me," Isabel whispered into his ear. "You are tearing me apart, you're so huge."
Jeff was excited now, he began stroking into her deeper and harder. His hands found her bra, and he found himself pulling it apart in his hands. Her breasts sprang free from the constraint into his hands. He grasped them for leverage as his cock pounded into her hot cunt, his balls slapping against the cheeks of her ass. He could feel the silkiness of her panties against them.
"Harder... hon... that's it... that's it!!!! ...more, more... That's it, that's it, that's it... Ohhhhh, fuck me, my big boy, fuck me, fuck me."
Jeff found it surprising and exciting that his grandma was urging him on with these blunt words. His cock raging now, slammed deep into her in rhythm with her chant. He felt his juices welling up in his balls, ready to explode deep into her pussy. "Ohhhhhhh," he heard himself scream.
Isabel was waiting for this. She felt him surging into her, their pubic bones slamming together. She reached to hold his balls in her grasp, pulling him to her. Her feet slammed against the mattress, urging her hips up to meet his thrusts. "Yes, darling, yes, darling, cum now for me, darling... Give it to me... Give it to me... Harder, darling, harder. Shove it in, shove it in, shove it in, baby. Shove it into me."
Jeff heard her and felt her hand on his scrotum. His hips thrust wildly into her as she splayed her legs even wider to get every bit of him into her grasping cunt. "Arggghhhhh!" He felt the sperm come fountaining out into her cunt, first one hot spurt, then another, then another, another, and then just a little spasm, as Isabel wrapped her nyloned legs around his ass to keep him in her.
She woke as Jeff struggled to disentangle himself from her and from her clasping pussy. "Wait," she said quietly. Jeff saw her struggling under the sheet covering her curves. "Here, honey, a souvenir of tonight for you!" She smiled up at him as he bent over her to plant a tender kiss as she slipped her panties into his hand.
"Thanks, Gram. Nice!" he replied. Jeff held the damp garment close to his face and inhaled with a smile as he made his way down the hall and into his room. | 4 |
3,886 | 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's 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....
The kiss Yolanda planted on Kathryn's soft lips was like that she would give her sister. A light peck denoting tenderness and affection. Then she kissed her again - this time with passion. Kathryn felt the press of her tongue against her lips and opened to receive it. Sparks erupted as she felt Yolanda's tongue brush up against her own.
Yolanda reached up with her hand and cupped Kathryn's breast through the thin material of her sundress. It felt so nice to the younger girl, sending another surge of emotion through her. Now it was Kathryn's turn as she put her arms around Yolanda and kissed her with all of the desire she could gather.
Kathryn and Yolanda sat there on the small couch kissing like long-lost lovers. Every time she felt Yolanda's tongue slip through her lips, Kathryn's heart skipped a beat. She hadn't been this excited since the first time she'd done it with Eric. Unlike Eric, Yolanda's lips were soft and sweet, the taste of cherry evident each time they pressed against hers.
Another thing vastly different was the scent of perfume that filled her as she pressed against Yolanda. So unlike the smell of a man, it was soft and gentle. It was also highly intoxicating.
"Why don't we get you a little more comfortable?" Yolanda asked as she kissed Kathryn one more time.
With that, Yolanda pulled the zipper of Kathryn's dress all the way down, exposing the lacy strap of a thin yellow bra. With no objection from Kathryn, she pulled the flowery print down across her shoulders and then began to pull it further down toward her waist.
For a moment, Kathryn felt very exposed, which was strange since she had no real phobia about being nude. Yolanda made her self-conscious about her body in a way that no man ever had.
Yolanda began to kiss her way down Kathryn's neck, running her tongue across the recesses of her throat to the soft flesh of her collarbone. Her green eyes opened in appreciation as she reached the pale white mounds cradled by the sheer lace bra. The contrasts between her breasts and the deeply tanned skin around it was highly erotic.
"Your breasts are so beautiful," the black-haired woman purred as she planted a soft kiss on the top of each of Kathryn's enclosed globes.
A gentle tug on the thin material exposed the bright pink nipple beneath it. The erect tip was only visible a brief moment before it vanished between Yolanda's lips. She wrapped her lips around the entire areola as she painted a path with her tongue across it. Then her lips closed as she sucked hard on just the now erect nipple.A loud sigh erupted from Kathryn as she felt the 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 darted 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 its 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 natural color and a proclivity for nude sunbathing. Her large nipples and wide areola were a dark brown, several shades darker 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. It 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 lamplight, 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. | 4 |
3,889 | Celebrity Hypnotist Chapter 7 (3/5) | "Man!" cried Bart, realizing the story was over, "How long did that take?"
"Hours," I replied, "I had to implant my insurance policy, make sure the memories were pushed into the short-term memory, and that everyone believed it to be a particularly potent fantasy in the first place. I regretted not getting a tit-fuck from Debbe, although I did feel her up and suck on them for a bit before I deprogrammed her... she was the last after all, and I was tired, I felt I needed something for my troubles."
Bart grinned and nodded, "And how'd the actual film go down?"
"The client loved it, according to The Head," I replied with a grin, "They kept some of the audience footage in and he... or she loved it, they thought I'd captured the sitcom feel perfectly... also he got a good look at Debbi's tits from the various angles we used."
Bart smiled, and sipped at his beer. I was drinking water myself, and I had noticed Bart managed to drink large amounts of beer seemingly without any of the negative effects.
"I was thinking," he said as I sipped some more water, "I'd like to go for Liv Tyler next and...."
He stopped as I sat forward and sprayed the water from my mouth in an admirable spit-take. I coughed and thumped my chest, trying to catch my breath.
"What is it? what's the matter?" he asked.
"Not...hak hak...not Liv Tyler," I grunted.
"Well why the hell not?" he returned, looking pissed off at my reaction.
"Her father is a high ranking member of The Organization," I said, calming down, "Also a rather prolific customer and most especially a very protective Father. He's let it be known that if anyone so much as thinks about perhaps maybe considering the possibility of perhaps at some point in the future doing anything to his girl he'll see to it they end up with both legs rammed firmly up their ass, feet first and shoes on."
Bart looked a little disappointed.
"But you can make it so she doesn't remember, can't you?" he asked.
"I'm not taking that chance, not for you, not for anybody," I replied simply, "You can have anyone else, but not her."
Bart was on the verge of saying something, but seemed to think better of it. However, I could tell that the aspect of forbidden fruit was now in the back of his head and it was maybe not the last I had heard on the subject.
"Okay," he said, "How about this, I had an idea the night after I fucked Jennifer Love Hewitt, it involves a couple of ladies with connections to her. You know Neve Campbell and Sarah Michelle Gellar?"She nodded, not quite sure she understood but knowing enough to follow the gist of things.
We chatted for a while after that, and I was able to drop enough keywords and repeat them enough so that I could be sure she wouldn't tell anyone about the private reading I had organized.
Saying goodbye and shaking her hand, so that the hangers-on in the cafe who had been watching us in the hopes of selling an exclusive about our secret romance to the tabloids would realize it was purely a friendly meeting or business lunch.
I walked past a familiar face, but decided not to say hello. Since she had become pregnant, my infatuation with her had dimmed somewhat. Fickle of me, perhaps, but what did I care? Not long after I got back home, I'd forgotten I'd seen her.
Lisa Kudrow, however, did not forget she had seen me.
The next day I also 'bumped' into Sarah Michelle Gellar, and basically repeated the same conversation I'd had with Neve. This time, however, we wanted her to spoof her role as Buffy The Vampire Slayer, crossing it over with spoofs of shows like La Femme Nikita and Xena: Warrior Princess.
She was a little lukewarm at first, but after bombarding her with a mixture of my own charm and subtle hypnotic abilities, she became eager to spoof her own image.
Again, it was a shake of the hand, although this time no one in particular seemed to have noticed us. As I left, I noticed someone else I knew, but this person was linked to me through the Organization, and I didn't want to create a public perception of a connection between us, so I just nodded slightly.
And Kevin Spacey nodded imperceptibly back.
The eleven of us sat around the table: Sarah Michelle Gellar, Neve Campbell, Bart, seven writers, and myself.
The writers were actual writers, but hypnotized by myself to think the script in their hands were the ones they had written.
Neve and Sarah were chatting away, Bart was pretending to be a writer, and he was talking easily with the other writers. He had the kind of personality that forced people to like him. I guess I would have to if he hadn't forced himself into my life like an unwanted relative.
"Okay," I said, "We'll do a read-through of the scene where La Femme Buffna: Slayer Princess meets Sydney Prescott, who is being stalked by yet another killer with a tenuous connection to the seventh sequel... he was the water boy during filming or something. Neve, your Sydney, of course, Sarah, you're La Femme Buffna, I'll be the killer, Bart over there can be innocent victim #3, and the rest of you guys can be the unaware diners on the other side of the window."
Everyone nodded, and we began. I had already been doing my little tricks all morning, ever since Sarah and Neve had arrived, and the hypnotized writers and Bart also used every opportunity to talk to them and use the dropped inflection and repetition I had drilled into them. Now, as we began the read-through, each and every line Bart, the writers, and I read was used to worm into the subconscious of the two beautiful young stars.
It was a five-minute scene, which was probably stretching the attention span of today's MTV Generation to the limit anyway. However, we planned to have several different scenes with both the stars and have them run into other scenes as well, and we also repeated some scenes so we could 'make sure we had it set'. So, all in all, we read through almost 30 minutes where every line not spoken by the two women was designed specifically to bring them into a trance where their subconscious minds would be open to my control.
When it was ready, I took the two women aside and began to make my commands, setting my orders and placing the plot into their brains.
Bart was watching me carefully, taking everything in, and I began to suspect he had plans to begin hypnotizing people himself. This would never do; it's one thing to know how to do something, another thing to actually do it.
Pushing that aside, I went to work on Sarah and Neve. Sarah was as easy as anyone, which was no indication of her intelligence, as when it comes down to my skill, it is very rare that someone can resist my talents for very long. Neve was also coming along nicely when I ran into an unexpected roadblock.
"You then remove your clothes..." I was saying when she moaned lightly.
I raised an eyebrow, Bart looked as surprised as I felt.
"No," she muttered under her breath, "No nude scenes, it's in the contract."
My eyes narrowed slightly.
"Neve, it's not a movie, you're dreaming, you're dreaming you are Sydney Prescott and...."
"No," she said, louder now, "No nude scenes."
I sighed. I had heard that during Wild Things, she'd made it clear she wouldn't be doing nude scenes.
"Okay," I said, "This is going to take a long time. Bart, you might want to take a break."
"Nah, man," he replied, "I wanna watch."
He wanted to learn the tricks of the trade, all right.
Over the next two hours, I slowly drove Neve into the mindset that she was not Neve Campbell, but Sydney Prescott, survivor of attempted murder from three maniacs, one her boyfriend, the other her boyfriend's best friend, and the third the mother of her own late best friend. I was forced to create false memories of a childhood that did not exist, going into enough detail that it would stick but not so much that she would be stuck with the memories for the rest of her life.
Finally, I sighed with relief and went back to my original programming.
"Okay, Sydney, so you take your clothes off and..."
The Next Day.
Neve came awake with a start.
She looked about, not sure where she was or what was going on. She was sitting in one of the small chair/tables in a darkened school classroom. She could make out the words on the blackboard only barely.
"YOUR LUCK JUST RAN OUT BITCH" it read.
"What the fuck?" she muttered. She was dressed in a tight white shirt with a brown leather jacket and tight jeans. She had no bag with her, and looking out the window of the class, she could see it was just getting dark.
She stood up, her muscles protesting. She must have been sleeping at the desk for hours, but she couldn't remember getting there or even how she had arrived.
"This is my old high school?" she said, confused, "The history class, what am I doing here?"
"Sydney," whispered a voice quietly, almost imperceptible, it came from a microphone set in the shelves of books at the back of the class.
"Who's there?" she asked, looking about.
The door came open to the class, and she heard footsteps running down the corridor - Bart.
She rushed out into the corridor, but Bart was gone from sight.
She looked about wildly. The corridor seemed to stretch out further than she remembered. Looking down, she saw the double doors that led out into the outside world.
"Sydney," came the whispered voice again. She spun about and let out a gasp of panic.
Standing at the other end of the corridor, which she stood in the middle of, was someone in the costume of Father Death, the costume worn by the murderers in the original Scream movie... except she thought at this time she was actually Sydney Prescott. Father Death was holding a large red container, and even in her fear, she recognized it as a gasoline container.
"No," she cried, and twisting about, she began running towards the doors.
As she got closer, I (it was me in the Father Death costume, of course) began running after her.
She was nearly to the doors when suddenly another Father Death (Bart) stepped out in front of them.
"GAH!" she cried and slid to a stop on the linoleum floor, her eyes widening in shock.
She twisted about, seeing that I was still there, rushing towards her, gasoline canister swinging at my side.
She turned back, and the second Father Death was gone. She decided not to question this and rushed the doors. They were, of course, locked.
She turned about, back pressed against the door as if she hoped to melt through it.
"Wha... what do you w.. want?" she stammered.
I simply stared at her through the blank eyes of my mask, breathing heavily from running after her. I noticed her chest rising and falling, her breasts heaving up and down from a mixture of fatigue and fear.
Before she had time to react, I grabbed the gas canister's handles in both hands and threw the contents of it onto her. She gasped and then had to fight the reflex to retch as the fumes of the gasoline were pulled up into her nostrils and mouth.
Then her eyes flared open in shock as she saw me light a match.
"NO!" she screamed, she lunged forward and knocked me to the side (as planned) and took off down the corridor.
"Sydney!" I moaned in a hollow, dull voice, "Come back."
She rushed around the corner and slid into the girls' changing rooms, hoping I'd run right past.
Inside the changing room, being filmed without her knowledge (we were using a real high school, set up because it would be empty over the weekend, the caretaker having been hypnotized into taking the day off), she quickly began stripping off her clothes, knowing that the smell of gasoline would lead me right to her, and as long as she was wearing them, she was in danger of being burnt to a crisp within a second. She pulled the leather jacket off, grabbed her shirt, and pulled it up over her head. Pulling her belt away, she quickly shimmied out of her jeans until she was only in her bra and panties.The door to the changing rooms slowly opened, creaking ominously, and I stepped through, my robes dragging along the ground.
"Sydney," I whispered.
"Get away from me," she growled, stepping back from the pile of gasoline-soaked clothes.
"Sydney," I whispered, "You must die."
"No," she cried, "Who are you?"
"The demon," I whispered, "The demon trapped in HIS story."
"What?" she was still afraid, but she wasn't really sure what was going on.
"HE writes the stories," I whispered, "And I take the form of HIS monsters, they contain me, keep me from being free."
"I don't know what you're talking about?" she replied, although a dim flicker of recognition passed through her eyes.
"Freddy Kreuger, Father Death, all forms I've been forced to take in the prison of his stories."
"Wes? You're talking about Wes Craven?" she asked.
"He writes the stories, I'm forced to take the form of his creatures, his monsters.... he mocked me in New Nightmare."
Neve remembered, in the movie New Nightmare Heather Langgencamp, star of the original Nightmare On Elm Street had faced off against the demon contained in the form of Freddy Kreuger.
"You want to kill me to be free?" she asked.
"Yes," I whispered, "You must die."
This was the focal point, at this point I had come forward closer and closer, now I stood right in front of her. My hand reached for her throat and instead brushed against her breasts. I paused, my mask tilting to indicate that I was looking down at her near-nude form.
She took the opportunity presented to her.
"You don't have to kill me," she said, reaching up she grabbed my hand in hers and pressed it against her breast, "I can ease your suffering."
I hesitated, then she stepped back. Reaching behind her, she took the clasp of her bra and released it. The straps of her bra released, then slowly peeled away, falling to the floor. The difference between this and the movies was that this time we actually got to see her breasts in film and in real life.
Her tits were magnificent, they were large and plump, they didn't stand firm and high which indicated to me they weren't implants, rather they sagged slightly on top, fuller and rounder at the bottom. They were quite frankly incredible.
I stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulder, my hands came up, I wore no gloves so I was able to feel her warm breast under my hand as I squeezed it.
"Yeah, that's right," she said, "You like that?"
"Yes," I hissed.
I felt up her breasts for a second, then my hand slid down and pressed under the waistband of her panties. I cupped her hot cunt-mound, one of my fingers pressing up between her cuntlips, feeling the wet pussy inside.
"Nice," she moaned, her eyes almost fully closed, she seemed to have forgotten just who it was doing this to her.
I pressed the knuckle of my thumb against her clitoris as I continued to slide my finger in and out of her cunt. She moaned happily, grinding her hips forward. I had implanted the command in her mind to take any sexual excitement and focus on it rather than anything else that was happening. So it was that the feel of my skilled fingers working on her cunt. The hand gripping her shoulder had slid down and was kneading one of her tits, fingers sliding around her erect nipple.
I slowly moved her towards one of the lockers in the changing room, once her ass pressed against the cool metal I slid my hand free from her panties, released her breast and stepped back. Getting down onto my knees, I grabbed the waistband of her panties in both hands and began to pull it down past her thighs, exposing her trimmed pussy hair.
Once past her knees, her white, silken panties fell to her ankles and she stepped out. I slid my hands between her thighs, spread her pink pussylips with the index and middle finger of my right hand, then raised my left hand and pressed the index and middle finger of that hand up into her parted pussylips.
"Huuuh!" she moaned as my fingers pushed up into her pussylips and pushed up to the 2nd knuckles in her vagina.
Soon I began pushing in and out, my fingers sliding in and out of her cunt, faster and faster, her juices coming quicker now as she quickly became aroused. Her mind was instructed to increase the pleasure she received, and since it was already focusing entirely on the sexual pleasure, all she was really aware of was the extreme pleasure she could feel.
Her body began giving little jerks, punctuated by cries of pleasure as I finger-fucked her cunt and she approached a quick, unexpected orgasm.
"Uhhh, yes.... oooh! Good..... huhhhh, yeah!" she moaned as I rammed my fingers in and out, in and out.
"OH WOW!" she cried and then juices burst from her cunt, female cum running down over my fingers and into the black cloth of my robe. She ground her hips forward, pressing my fingers deep into her cunt as erotic sensation drove throughout her body.
Pulling my fingers out, I then stood up, grabbed the hem of my black robes and flinging them up and around my legs, so my naked legs and crotch could be seen. My cock was hard and erect, ready to shove up the young celebrity's cunt.
I grabbed her by the thighs, spreading her legs and then lifted her up, her ass sliding against the locker. Once her cunt was slightly above my crotch, I moved forward, because I was holding her up I was forced to press my cock forward unguided, and it took me a couple of probes to hit her fuckhole. However, once I found it, I pressed forward and groaned happily as I felt her cuntlips spreading open and her vaginal passage opening to all my cock entry. It was a groan echoed by Neve as she felt my cock push up into her cunt.
Her juices were really beginning to flow, her body reacting to the feel of my cock cramming forward into her cunt. My cockhead was lubricated by the slick juices from her orgasm.
She was moving her hips, pushing down so she could get more of my cock into her eager snatch. The sensations which would usually be causing the pleasure centers in her body to buzz must have been going off as the intensity was increased by my hypnotic programming.
"So good!" she moaned, "Fuck me, fuck me!"
I moaned happily, her cunt was hot and tight around my cock, and it was almost regretfully that I began to pull my cock back after I'd gotten as much into her as I could. I also lifted her body by the thighs as I pulled back, so my cock pulled away quicker. Once only the head of my cock was in her tight little snatch, I released the added pressure in my arms which dropped her back down to where she had been before, my cock slamming back up into her cunt again.
Because I had elevated her, I was able to get a good look at her tits, and I moaned in a mix of disappointment and pleasure since I wouldn't be able to suck on those magnificent breasts which jiggled and jumped as I fucked into her. I could have removed my mask but that would have shown Neve my face, and for the plan to work Father Death had to remain anonymous. So I had to be content to seeing what no one but her boyfriends had seen, the magnificent tits of Neve Campbell. I rammed my cock in and out of her cunt. I didn't bother to lift her up with each back stroke, happy to make short, hard thrusts for now. I knew that once we were both on the edge of cumming, we'd both be lifting and thrusting with little care for muscle fatigue, and for now I was more interested in the feeling of her cunt gripping onto my cock as I slammed in and out of the Party Of Five and Scream's star's cunt.
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" she squealed happily, "Give it to me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck!!!"
I did just that, ramming into her with my hard cock as I felt her grind her cunt down against my cock.
"YES!" screamed Neve, "My cunt's on fire! FUCK ME!"
Her cunt clasped my cock every time I pulled out, then it would spread wide to accept my cock as I shoved it back in. Her legs had lifted up wide, she was able to do so because I was still holding her by the thighs. So it was that her legs were spread out wide to either side, her head tilted to the side, thrown back as far as it could with the locker behind her, eyes scrunched shut as she squealed excitedly, loving the fuck she was getting.
She slammed her ass down, desperate to keep her cunt crammed full with my cock, not wanting me to pull out but loving it anyway when I did and my cock rasped along her clitoris.
I fucked her harder, getting turned on by her high cries of desire and lust. My hips plunged up and down, forward and back, slamming up into her cunt which gripped down harder and harder with each stroke.
"YES!" screamed Neve, grinding her clit hard down against the base of my cock and I knew she was going to cum very, very soon.
Her face was screwed up in desire as she reached around and gripped my asscheeks, trying to force my hips forward and push my cock deeper into her cunt. Her body was shuddering and her body was jerking and her body was going to cum or she would explode.
Her cunt squeezed down hard around my cock and I found it almost impossible to keep on thrusting in and out of her. But I did and it felt even better.
Neve threw back her head and squealed out a high-pitched, animalistic scream of erotic release.
"YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!" she squealed and juices exploded out from around my cock, which was buried deep into her pussy.
"Jacknife!" I yelled and moaned in pleasure as I felt myself cum, even though I didn't cum. It felt like I was shooting several streams of cum deep up into Neve Campbell's gripping, squeezing cunt and I loved it.
"Yeah! good," I moaned.I lowered her onto the ground, and she sat still on her ass with her legs spread, cum seeping from her cunt, her arms hanging limp as her breasts rose and fell, sweaty straggly hair hanging over her face.
"Back soon," I whispered, then turned and walked out the door of the changing room.
A moment later, Father Death re-entered, but it wasn't me in the costume this time. | 3 |
3,907 | Debasement of Donna Ff F/f bd sm ds PART 2. | "Hmmm, you're quite a good little fuck. For the rest of the night I'm going to tie you spreadeagle to my bed and continue to screw your slutty little-brains out."
"OH! Mrs. Lowens!" I gasp as she quickly gets up and lifts me up in a bride-like manner. Holding me in her strong arms, one arm is under my back, the other cradles under my knees. I feel a wonderful sense of safety, being held in her powerful arms. I am small and precious as she holds me. She lifts my face to her lips and kisses me softly.
"Ready to be fucked again, sweet cakes?" Mrs. Lowens asks me softly looking down at my face.
"Yyyyess!" I hiss back to my new lover.
She carries me through her living room, down the hallway and into a large bedroom. The walls are Robin's-egg blue, with tasteful recessed lighting and wood floors. The far window looks out over New York City at night. In the middle of the room is a king-size futon bed with dark bed-sheets and pillows.
Mrs. Lowens sets me gently down on the futon bed. The bed sheets feel cool and soft against my naked butt.
"Okay, sweety, spread 'em! I want you on your back with your arms and legs straight out."
I comply with Mrs. Lowens' request, stretching out my arms and legs and looking coyly up at my new lover's face.
"Oooh," I gulp as Mrs. Lowens pulls out a leather cuff from the bottom of the bed near the left corner. She quickly attaches it to my ankle. In no time she has both my ankles and wrists securely fastened to each corner of the bed-frame.
"And this little chain tightener on each cuff will pull you nicely taut," Mrs. Lowens tells me as she fiddles with the chain on each cuff. Soon my body is pulled taut in the perfect spreadeagle position.
What an unusual feeling it is to be bound spreadeagle to this woman's bed. Pulling at my arms and legs, I realize Mrs. Lowens has left me very little slack. The dark blue bed-sheets feel smooth and cool on my back. I'm naked and completely exposed to this older woman. I have very little freedom of movement. The leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles are actually quite soft to the touch, but incredibly strong, holding me firmly in place. Being bound and totally at Mrs. Lowens' mercy really turns me on.
She sits on the edge of the bed and softly strokes her fingers along my legs, my tummy, arms and breasts. Mrs. Lowens lays down alongside me on her bed. The slight jostling of the bed causing my legs and arms to stretch against my wrist and ankle cuffs, reminding me of my bound predicament.
This older woman..my new lover lays on her side next to me and casually tweaks and caresses my tits and plays with my nipples (which are now quite hard).
"Oh Donna, I'm going to have a good time with your sweet body. It's so tender and firm. Just the way I like it." Mrs. Lowens pinches both of my nipples simultaneously. I groan with desire and pull at my bindings. Her strong fingers treat my breasts like soft bread dough.
"Hmmmm," she says while closely examining at my poor breasts. "I think it's time to make you into a nice tittie-snack."
Mrs. Lowens lays fully on-top of my spreadeagle form. Her well-toned body and smooth skin feel warm and slightly moist as she slides down against me. Her powerful thigh and hip press directly against my pussy, her other leg clamps against my right leg, grinding her own hot pussy into me. Her hands hold the side of my body, right under my armpits as she brings her mouth up to fully engulf my right breast. I look down in amazement as the older woman's lips stretch around the base of my breast. Her mouth feels soft yet tight. She brings her tongue to play along my nipple.
"Oooh, hmm, ooooh! mm-Mrs. Lowens that feels very nice, y-you make my nipples really feel good." I pull against my wrist and ankle cuffs, trying to push up my chest into her mouth, but Mrs. Lowens has me bound too tightly to her bed for much movement. I tilt and roll my head backward in mounting frustration. Mrs. Lowens gently bites into my hardened nipple.
"They are special, deary, quite special," she says looking up between mouthfuls of my breast. "And they're mine, completely mine!"
With that she arches her back up and takes hold of the base of each of my breasts, squeezing, pulling and kneading them with more force than before.
I moan and whimper at her increased frontal assault. The soles of my feet tingle and curl with pleasure. Her hip and thigh snake and rub against my pussy and open bound legs.
Still holding my breasts in her long warm fingers, she brings her wide open mouth to my right breast. Her mouth and lips engulf about half my breast this time. She sucks up mightily on my nipple and plays her tongue along the top of it. I groan and pull against my bindings, that's all I can do. She's squeezing the base of both breasts now, causing my tits to 'pop-out' slightly. She goes crazy biting, pulling, sucking and licking my nips, switching frenetically from breast to breast.
I roll my head back moaning, my hips bucking up against Mrs. Lowens.
"Okay, I think I've snacked enough now." Mrs. Lowens stops her assault. Letting go of my breasts, she holds herself over me.
"Aaarh, ooh, ooh, Mrs. Lowens, please, please don't stop now." I pout and squirm under her firm body, pulling and testing my bindings. Our bodies shared a sheen of slippery warm sweat.
"Is my poor baby all hot and bothered now?" She says smiling down at me while sliding her mature tits against my own. She softly kisses my neck. I whimper and groan in response. Our breasts slip and glide deliciously together.
She kisses me fiercely on the lips. I moan and open my mouth as Mrs. Lowens inserts her tongue into me. She breaks her kiss and looks down at me, inches from my face.
"Donna, I had no idea I would have so much fun turning into my complete Bottom. You're really quite a little slut, aren't you?"
"Y-yes," I whimper looking up in her sharp angular face. Her long blonde hair cascades down her neck, tickling my bare shoulders. The older woman is fully on top of my bound spreadeagle form. Her legs and hips wedged between my open V legs, her breasts squashed into my own. The inside of my thighs are pressing into her own muscular thigh. I tremble with desire and lust.
She kisses the side of my face and slowly licks behind my ear.
"Well, my little girl-slut, I think it's about time I put on one of my favorite strap-ons and fuck your sweet young brains out."
"Oh!"
She suddenly gets off my bound body. The shaking of the bed causes my legs and arms to stretch out slightly. From a nearby drawer, she pulls out a good size strap-on dildo. I gasp, not so much at the size of the thing, just at its sheer perversity. The plastic phallus is jet-black and thickly veined. The tip is a wide mushroom-shaped head.
Mrs. Lowens comes back to the bed with the dildo in one hand. With the other, she feels up and down along my pussy and clit.
"Mmmm, seems like my baby is ready to take my plastic friend here. I call him 'Johnny.' Great for drilling little sluts like yourself. The other end also gives me a lot of clitoral action. Now stick out your tongue, deary."
I do as Mrs. Lowens asks me. She runs the black plastic phallus, from base to head along my outstretched tongue. It tastes a little salty.
"That's it, baby, get a good taste of all the lovers that come before you."
Uck! I can't believe she's making me do this. But I'm too far gone to really care. I just want her to fuck me!
Mrs. Lowens attaches the obscene dong to her hips. The older woman gets on the bed and kneels between my bound open legs. She positions the wide head of the dildo lightly on top of my pussy. I whine and groan as she looks down on me, smiling.
"Well Donna, aren't we in a hurry today!"You really want me to fuck you with this thing, don't you, my little whore?
"Oooh, Ooow, yes, yes...please Mrs. Lowens..."
"I want you to admit that you're a total slut now, who belongs entirely to me!"
"I...oh, ohh, oh!"
I can barely talk. Mrs. Lowens takes short stabs into my pussy with the dildo, and withdraws quickly.
"I...OH!...I..I'm a total slut and belong completely to you, Mrs. Lowens..Ooh!"
"Just one more thing, every little slut like yourself has a hidden, nasty fantasy. I need to know yours NOW! Or I'm simply have to put poor Johnny away."
I'm going out of my head with desire! I twist and squirm around in my bindings, trying desperately to impale myself on Mrs. Lowens' teasing phallus. But it's no use, my movement is too limited!
"Oh, OH! Pleaaaze! Mrs. Lowens, Please!"
"Tell me now Donna, or we'll call it a night and I'll see you at the office tomorrow."
"OH!"
I blurt out my deepest, darkest fantasy to my tormentress.
"Hmmm, very nice, quite nasty! Well now, are you absolutely sure you want me to slip this thing into you? How about it slut-face?"
"Ooooh, oooh, oh, ooh please..." I'm crying, I'm shaking with desire. This woman is driving me crazy! Here I am, spread-eagle on my back, tied to her bed. She's naked, kneeling between my outstretched legs, her warm knees press firmly..oh-so-firmly against the insides of my open thighs, her strap-on is firmly in place. I feel delirious, out-of-control as this older woman lords over my prostrate body.
"All right, sweetie, my little honey of a lesbian twat, here it comes!"
Looking down along my bound body I see a depraved sight. Mrs. Lowens moves her hips forward, her thighs press into mine. The wide mushroom head of the dildo slowly enters into my pussy, finally! The plastic dong feels truly wonderful as it moves up inside me. She goes very slowly. I can hear, and feel a wet squishing sound as the phallus moves deeper into my body. I arch my hips downward so the plastic dong will rub against my clit.
A warm, tingling sensations spreads outward from my pussy. Whimpering with desire my head shakes back and forth on the bed, pulling against my secured legs and arms. I'm in heaven.
Mrs. Lowens ever-so-slowly pulls out of me. I whimper in disappointment. As if in response, the tall blonde inserts the dong back into me. Then out again, and in. She begins pumping me with a slow steady rhythm.
She closes down and top of me while maintaining her steady thrusting. I can't believe I'm doing this! Mrs. Lowens has played me very well, I'm completely turned on now, countering each thrust back with my own hip movement up. Our breasts rub together as she gets down on her elbows over my bound form. She kisses me harshly on the lips while looking directly into my eyes.
With each thrust I can't help but let out a little moan. I'm so close to the brink. Mrs. Lowens slides her hands under my waist, holding our bodies tightly together, still maintaining her in and out, in and out. This allow her to thrust more deeply into me and gives us full body contact as she fucks me.
My orgasm blossoms out intensely from my tummy, causing me to tremble all over and against my lover. My pussy tingles, my breasts jut up proudly against the older woman. Mrs. Lowens stops thrusting into me. She body feels great on top of me, her tongue is deep is in my mouth, her thighs press wetty against my own. I'm completely impaled by her dildo and it feels wonderful.
She gets off me quickly and takes off the strap-on and gets back on the bed. Standing directly over me she sits down gently on my breasts, with most of her weight on her knees at my side.
"Donna, sweetie," she says softly. "It's time for you to learn how to lick and suck my pussy, right now! It's very important." Mrs. Lowens brings her wet muff forward, towards my mouth.
"Oh, I.." I still feel somewhat dazed. "I never really.."
"Well, there's no time like the present, now is there." She grabs the hair in the back of my head and presses my face directly between her legs. I'm suddenly overwhelmed by her scent and wetness. Somewhat shakily I stick out my tongue and lick, tasting her pussy. It's not too bad. I can't believe I'm doing this!
"Oooh baby. That's the way.."
Over the next three hours, still bound spread-eagle to her bed, Mrs. Lowens carefully instructs me on just how to please her with my tongue. She cums on my face a number of times.
She finally undoes my restraints. We take a nap curled up together, totally exhausted. We get up a little while later, I'm floating on air. We clean up and get dressed. On my way out Mrs. Lowens wants to show me something.
"Come over here, sweetie," Lisa waves me over to a corner of her plush living room, "I want to show you a few things"
Lisa shows me her special 'equipment.' Inside a slim cabinet she takes out an impressive array of strap-on dildos, short fat ones and spiky long ones and all kinds of leather cuff restraints and what looks to me like a horses harness.
"Donna, I had a wonderful time tonight, but here is where my heart really lies. If you decide to come back tomorrow night I will freely use this devices on your young sweet body without restraint."
"Oh Lisa, I will..."
"Hush my young one, I want you to think about what you're getting yourself into here. If you decide not to come over tomorrow night, I will remember this wonderful night always and we'll continue our friendship. The choice is yours, I don't want you to give me an answer now, but think on it."
"Okay, Lisa, I think I understand." My mind is already made up of course.
Lisa pulls out a what looks a small foot and a half tall, two feet wide and three feet long platform for the corner. The top of the platform is covered in a thick soft-rubber matt, strange round metal 'eyelets' were installed on the front and back and along the sides.
"This is my little piece of resistance. It's a 'pleasure table.' I can attach my slaves to it in a variety of amusing and accessible positions. If you come over tomorrow, I will secure you, bound and naked, to this platform. As you can see, it won't be a polite 'diner-date' like tonight, if fact you should eat before you come over, because I will not be server food, do you understand Donna?"
"Umm, yes Lisa, I understand." I say as I stare, transfixed at the 'pleasure table' before me. I become excited just imagining myself attached to it and what Lisa would do to me.
"Donna, you still live with your parents, right?"
"Yes, Lisa, I do," I reply in a somewhat embarrassed admission.
"Well, if you do decide to come over tomorrow is there any way you stay the full night, into Sunday? I don't care how you do it or work it out, I just don't want anyone to get worried."
"Oh, don't worry about that, I'll just tell them I'm staying over at Ashley's, it'll all work out just fine."
"Great," smiles my beautiful, older lover. She gives me a full, but soft, kiss goodnight.
I go home that late that night as if in a dream. I feel a constant level of excitement in the pit of my stomach. The next morning I'm pacing my bedroom and going out of my mind with anticipation. I just have to tell someone, so I call Ashley, my best friend since High-School.
"Wow, Donna, I can't believe you! She bound you to her bed, and you completely ate her out?"
"Yup."
I tell her the whole story and about my next meeting with Lisa. I think she's duly impressed and even a little jealous of my new sexual experimentation.
I work everything out, Ashley is cooperative about the phony sleep-over. Lisa can have me until Monday, if she wants.
Standing in front of Lisa's door I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can't believe I'm actually going through with this. I'm wearing a light mid-length dress with tasteful 'cute' pumps.
Lisa opens the door with a big smile and an intense look in her eyes. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun. She's wearing a silk bathrobe and killer high heels.
"So, you've come back for more," she says pulling me into her apartment. She quickly closes and locks her door. Lisa holds me to her and pumps her long tongue into my mouth, I gurgle in surprise and try to respond to her kiss. One arm goes around my back and presses me to her, her other hand roughly palms and squeezes my pussy, bunching up my dress between my shaking legs.
Wow, this is happening so fast! I tilt my head back, sucking up and down on her tongue. Her hand comes up to fondle and pinch my breasts. Just as quickly she brakes off contact on wheels me around, into her living room. I feel my nipples harden and a wetness develop between my legs just from that quick contact.
"Ow, Lisa, we're not wasting any time tonight, are we?"
"No, sweetie, we're not, just a few things before we begin," she tells me as we stand in front of her over-stuff couch. Memories of the night before flash into my mind. As Lisa's talking she takes off the robe to reveal black lacy panties and a tight black push-up style bra. I almost giggle, but she does look great!
"Umm, Sure Lisa, what is it," I say nervously shifting my weight from one legs to the other.
"Well, to begin with you must do everything I command you to do tonight. This is totally necessary for the scene we'll be creating, do you understand?"
"Yes, Lisa, I do."
"One more thing," Mrs. Lowens says as she spins me around and begins to unzip the back of my dress, "I will probably be the most dedicated lover you'll ever meet, but you mustn't be possessive of me. Just like I won't be possessive of you. If you want to kept your boyfriend that's fine, you want to become the biggest cunt-licker in mid-town that's fine too. You may see me with other woman from time to time, this doesn't mean I love you any less. It's just that I need to be free to do my thing. Understand me sweety. | 4 |
3,915 | On French Soil | "M'lord de Valence!"
Catherine had barely licked the last of Edward de Valence's seed from her lips when she heard someone yell outside Edward's baggage wagon. Sir Edward de Valence, her captor, heard it too, and with wolf-like speed, he grabbed a piece of cloth and forced it between Catherine's lips, gagging her.
For Edward, there was no time to waste upon making Catherine D'Astier comfortable. If anyone knew he had taken a prisoner to ransom without the King's permission, his very life may be forfeit. He shoved his prisoner down and quickly pulled a wool blanket and tapestry down over her. The bulk of the tapestry seemed to cover her little struggles, and he could barely hear her screams through the gag.
"Sir Edward de Valence!" the man called again.
Edward pulled on his hose quickly before stepping out in the grey morning. A fine, misting rain greeted him coldly as he stood in the doorway. At the edge of his camp, Richard Corfe, Edward's best man-at-arms and sergeant, walked his horse through the mud, escorting another man, the King's Herald. Richard still had the grime of battle ground into his skin, and his armor was well-worn, while the herald, mounted on a light grey horse, looked as clean as any bishop.
"M'lord de Valence?" the herald asked, a grim look about him.
"Yes."
"His Majesty, King Henry the V, wishes your council immediately. You may find him in St. Martin's church."
Barely had the words left the herald's lips than the man wheeled his horse around and started back toward Harfleur. The two men were silent until the herald was swallowed by the misting rain.
"How now, Richard? Why such a grim face?" Edward asked.
"I could not pry any words out of that man, m'lord. His bearing is not good, and I fear what news you may hear," Richard replied, his clear blue eyes now red with the burden of war.
Edward nodded, "The men taken care of?"
"As well as can be, m'lord. We have a roof over our head and a bit of wine we found, but they were as starved as we are."
Edward again nodded, "Water the wine down with this rain water. I fear that the devil may have pissed in the river. See what I can fill our bellies with so long as it hasn't crawled from the sea. Take a few of our archers afield and see what fowl you can put on the spit."
"M'lord."
"And see to it this wagon is dragged to a suitable site within the walls. I will not have some errant French lick-pizzle steal what little comforts I have. Guard it well and let no one inside save me."
Richard nodded, wiping his soggy, blonde hair out of his eyes.
"Now I will see what the King has to say."
Catherine struggled once again at her bonds and once again was frustrated by their effectiveness. She was on her back once more, and the rough wool against her skin felt like thousands of fleas crawling over her breasts, belly, and legs. The cold wood she lay upon was rough and chafing, and with her wrists bound as they were behind her back, made her even more uncomfortable.
But even more than that, Catherine felt an itch between her legs that she could not sate. It troubled her in many ways, chief amongst them was the idea she was wanting of Edward's manhood despite his ill-treatment of her. He had not respected her station. In fact, quite the opposite, as if she were a common slattern. However, no matter how she was treated by the English and how detestable it was, there was no turning away from the fact that her quim was wanting his touch.
The wool was rough against her nipples as she squirmed. Each movement, a little blissful agony sparked within her womb and heated the embers there.
Catherine strained her hands down and her legs apart, knocking about the empty bottle of wine Edward and her had shared, but her fingers could not solace the need rising in her. Her position and bindings worked against her.
Then Catherine heard something and froze.
Even beneath the blanket and tapestry, Catherine could hear the muffled voices of men outside and their thumps against the wagon. The thought of them finding her both horrified and thrilled and sent her passions rushing through her like a wild fire. Struggling, Catherine tried to assuage her need with the heel of her foot but found that it would not but brush her swollen lips, teasing herself.
Catherine rocked her shoulders so that her nipples would enjoy the friction against the wool. Total rapture was so close yet still unreachable, like a delicious quince hanging just at the fingertips' touch. The smell of her own natural perfume hung in the cloistered air beneath the blanket like an exotic incense, exciting her more. She rocked her hips and tried to rub her thighs together, but to no end.
Then Catherine felt the wagon jolt. Her own mewls of need had drowned out the sounds outside and left her isolated. The wagon was now moving, and she was now very aware she was not alone.
The rocking and jolting of the wagon across the muddy ground caused the bottle to roll beneath Catherine's splayed legs. She felt its slender neck against her thigh like the prick of an ardent lover. Before the bottle could roll away, Catherine trapped its base between her feet, aiming its slender neck at her moistened quim.
The baggage cart jolted again. The bottle slipped from her grasp.
A moan of despair erupted from Catherine's lips as she sought to entrap the bottle again. She felt its cool, smooth surface upon her thigh and began to squirm around, hoping to roll it back to her grasping feet. Undulating and writhing, she felt the bottle roll toward her tied ankles. With grunting effort, she trapped the bottle again and tried to slowly point its neck towards her quiff, holding the bottle firm over the larger bumps.
The effort took great concentration, but Catherine now had the lip of the bottle against her own moistened lips, a prize so tempting she could not refuse its blissful invasion. With one quick push, she rammed the bottle neck inside herself.
The bottle filled Catherine, her slick muscles bearing down upon the glass phallus as if she were possessed by a daemon. Using her heels, she pumped the bottle in and out of herself, fanning the fires within her, building her pyre of ecstasy until it consumed her in rapture...
The destruction wrought on Harfleur by the English engines and cannon was even more apparent in daylight. This was the first time Edward had been within the town walls since the night of Catherine's capture. His charge was the guarding of the siege artillery, and as the town surrendered, Edward had to maintain his vigil until all the canon were safe behind the city walls.
The smell of smoke still clung to the air, even in the misting rain. Charred timbers of homes and stores poked up through the rubble like ribs of a burnt carcass. But most of the town was spared ruin.
St. Martin's bell tower stood like a lone sentinel over the town. The roof over the chancel had collapsed, but the tower stood firm. It was here that King Henry had walked barefoot to give thanks for his victory, and it was here that he made plans for the future of his France.
The men-at-arms bowed slightly to Edward as he mounted the steps to go into the church, their faces grim. He remembered the look on the faces of the men-at-arms in England when he escorted Sir Thomas Grey to his audience with the King. The guards seemed to know what was to happen to the traitor Grey. They had the same look as the guards he just passed.
John Duke of Bedford greeted Edward with a slight smile.
"He awaits you in the tower," Bedford said in barely a whisper.
The stairs were steep, and each step made Edward's knees ache. The cold, misty rain seemed to bring out a man's infirmities, Edward thought to himself. He wondered if these thoughts crossed the minds of men walking up to the gallows.The door to the tower was unattended, and with a hesitant hand, Edward turned the latch to open it.
"Come, gentle Edward de Valence, and stand with ourselves and advise," King Henry spoke as he stood before the open arches and peered out over Harfleur cloaked in the mist.
"My King," Edward bowed and moved beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke but looked out at the rain and the rooftops and the men below. The King had a great cloak about him as he stared. This man was a soldier first and King second. The heated lust for battle still glowed in the man's eyes.
"'Tis a cold and piercing mist, Edward, as cold as a blade. Winter is to come soon, I fear, and We must show France how to kneel."
"Yes, my Lord."
"To do this, France must take Us to her bosom like a mother. France must both love Us and fear Our resolve. France must abide by God's and Our will. How shall we do this, Edward?"
"Our swords must have lead points but sharp edges, my King."
"Mercy will be our sword, Edward, but not without profit first. France is coffer enough for all, Edward."
"Indeed."
"Our debt to you, Edward de Valence, is great. Or so my exchequer tells. Your service to Ourselves and England is great."
"Thank you, My King."
"So We will forgive any looting that you may have done despite Our commands. But you will remain here to watch over Our new prize until next spring when We shall begin anew. Ourselves will march to Calais and then to England."
"Thank you, My King."
"There is still much to do, Edward. The towers on the sea have not bowed to Us and England. You must remedy this. You are well versed in the art of siege, I am told and from what I have seen. My brother Bedford will detail Our plans for Harfluer. You may go."
Edward bowed again and started to leave.
"Edward?"
"Yes, my King."
"As a man, was she worth the price?"
Edward paused.
"There is no price on vengeance that is not high."
The house was near the town square and overlooked the Leure as it wound its way through the port. Edward's baggage cart was in front as were two of his men-at-arms. Their faces were set against the cold of the drizzle.
"As soon as I survey the quarters, we'll get this baggage in and gather around a fire," Edward said, patting one of his men on the shoulder.
The first floor was set slightly into the ground, and the large doors in front belied the building's purpose. As Edward stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the damp darkness, he saw that any stores this place had were gone, and only the lingering smells of tanned leather and suet remained. The store window was barred, and there was but a broken stool and some scraps of leather left. Even the fireplace was dead.
"First thing, Talbot, is to get a fire started in this place! I am sure there is enough wood in those wrecked buildings to build a decent one. The cart will go over there, and our stores of powder and shot will fill this up well."
"Yes, m'lord," the man-at-arms answered tiredly.
They made their way toward the back and up the narrow stairs to the second floor. Already his men had started dropping their personal gear and picking their spots to lay. The windows let in the cold, grey light, and there was a small, sputtering fire in the chimney. Two of his wounded men lay on the floor near it, huddled in their cloaks and sleeping their pain away.
The second-story rooms themselves were well-maintained and whitewashed. There were two benches and a table as well as an oil lamp. Through the windows overlooking the grey-brown Leure, Edward could see his challenge towering over the bay, curls of smoke and mist enwrapping it like a vampirish wraith.
However, Edward's thoughts were upon the girl still bound in his baggage wagon. | 4 |
3,937 | At Home | "Mommy!"
"Just a minute," Diana said, putting aside her coffee mug and rising from the floor. I rolled my eyes and sighed.
"Mommy!" the young voice wailed from the other room.
"I'll be right there," Diana shouted, her voice erupting from the depths of her lungs, startling me with the sudden burst of sound.
"Mommy," the young boy repeated monotonously, seemingly oblivious to his mother's emphatic promise of attention. Diana left me to attend to the matter.
"Thomas?" she said, bending down toward the small boy. Diana's voice had shifted in a matter of seconds to the reassuring lilt of an adoring mother. Stretched out on our family room floor, I leaned back on my arms, watching my pretty wife kneel down to adjust the wooden railroad that vexed our youngest son. Her pigmented blue jeans filled out roundly as Diana bent low to the carpet. My appetite for her had been growing apace since my playful sleepmate awoke me with the brush of a bare breast on my slumbering lips, and I felt my hunger thicken by degrees as I stared at the blue moon of her well-lifted bottom.
"All right, now," the young mother said, rising again from the floor, her fingers gently brushing down the white rings of soft hair on the small child's head. A grin crossed my face. How gladly I would tickle hers, those diminutive wisps of gold curled against her lap. Diana teasingly raised her brows as she caught my gaze, easily reading my lascivious thoughts. Her hips swayed playfully as she walked. Sunlight sparkled in golden streams through her hair when Diana strolled past our kitchen window.
"Everything back on track?" I asked, suddenly distracted by the bulge of her fluid breasts bouncing in andante my way.
"Behind schedule," Diana said, smiling, "but on line."
"That's no way to run a railroad," I insisted dogmatically as my wife sat down beside me. I turned to kiss her, bumping her coffee as she lifted it up. An amorphous drop of the tepid liquid splashed onto her cotton sleeve. "Sorry," I said, wiping her arm with a small grey sock that had been hiding partly under the sofa behind us. Diana smiled.
"It's all right," she said sweetly. "This blouse is already a mess." Diana pointed out the smear of chocolate on her shoulder and the brush of red mud below her left breast. "I'll gladly trade a stain for a kiss," Diana said with a coy smirk that often accompanied her elegantly forward approach. I leaned forward again, more carefully and touched my lips to hers.
"Mommy!" another boy hollered. Diana looked back toward the train station. I lifted myself off the floor, rapidly anticipating her next move.
"My turn," I said. Diana nodded and took another sip of lukewarm coffee.
"I need to heat this up," she said and followed me into the kitchen.
"Daddy," the older of the boys whined, seeing me approach.
"Curtis," I said as I knelt by the track. "You can't do that without one of these." I reached into a large cardboard box for a small piece of track. "You see?" I asked, pushing the grooved wooden flat into the gap, finishing the circle of track. "Better?"
"Play with me?" Curtis asked. I mussed his yellow-blonde hair as I stood.
"Maybe later, buddy. I'm trying to play with your mother right now."
"Mmm," said Diana as I turned around and into her arms. She looked up into my eyes. "I'm so glad you stayed home today." Diana paused with an expression of concern. "You won't get in trouble for playing hooky will you?" she asked. I tickled her waist.
"You weren't much concerned about getting me in trouble when you teased me into staying home," I chided. Diana flashed a familiar, blue-eyed "who me?" gaze. "Don't give me that," I said, tickling her with greater ferocity.
"Stop," Diana laughed.
"You knew what you were doing. Don't deny it." I squeezed her bottom with a rogue's hand and brought her body close. Diana shut her eyes to kiss me.
"I don't want you to get into any trouble," she said softly, touching her lips to mine.
"I do," I said, lifting her slightly to meet my hungry mouth. "I love trouble." My hands quickly roamed, finding the softness of her stained left breast as I turned Diana against the kitchen counter and kissed her hungrily.
"Daddy!" Thomas said from the other room. I selfishly ignored the child's plea. "Daddy!" he wailed again and walked in behind us.
"What do you want, Tommy?" I asked, a little exasperated by the intrusion.
"Popsicle?" the toddler asked, smiling sweetly.
"Curtis? Do you want a Popsicle, too?"
"Red one," said Thomas. "Red one, red one, red one, red one."
"Green one," said Curtis, walking into the kitchen, "green one."
"Sorry Curtis," said Diana, pulling the thin box from the freezer. "I have red and purple."
"Red one!" said Thomas.
"Red," said Curtis. Diana stripped the white paper wrapping from the two rocket-shaped shards of colored ice and handed one to each of the boys. Taking hold of the yellowish stick, Curtis touched the cherry-red treat to his cherry-red tongue.
"Mmmm," he said, taking another lick.
"Stay in the kitchen with those," said Diana in a serious voice. I wandered back toward the family room, hoping to lead my wife astray. She quickly followed, leaving the boys to their frozen pops. "It never ends," Diana said, folding her leg under as she sat down on the sofa. I took the place beside her and rubbed her denim thigh.
"It doesn't matter," I said.
"I just get so frustrated," said Diana, laying her head back as my fingers travelled her jean's stiff folds. "I can't even steal a moment for myself."
"Mmm," I said, still stroking her lean thigh. "I can help." Diana frowned for a second.
"You do help," she said. "I don't know what I want. Just a moment to indulge."
I squeezed the muscle of her leg. "So tense," I said.
"Oh," Diana murmured. I let my fingers drift down to tease the tight band of her calf. "That's sweet."
"What you need," I said, slipping off the sofa so that I rested just below my wife. "What you need," I repeated and I softly kissed the lap of her jeans.
"What I need," Diana said faintly.
"Mom!" screamed Anna from the top of the stairs. I wrapped my arms around Diana's waist and kissed her nipple through several layers of clothing. A stiffness developed below as my lips nibbled the gentle curve of flesh. "Mom!" our daughter yelled again.
"What?" called Diana in reply. I pushed myself away from my wife reluctantly. Anna appeared in the doorway.
"Can I have . . . ," she began to ask, stopping before she reached the point.
"We're going to have lunch in a minute," Diana said.
"But why did the boys get Popsicles?"
"I know," said the girl's mother, standing and moving out of my reach. "But I'll fix some macaroni. How's that?"
"Yeah!" said Anna with sincere delight. At seven, she seemed a perfect reflection of her mother, transported through time. Long golden hair flowed past their shoulders like July sunlight, while a glance from either girl's limpid blue eyes took away any semblance of control I pretended to exert. Though perhaps master by title, I am only a pawn to my queens.
"Let me fix lunch," said Diana apologetically to me. I nodded in understanding and watched my wife move while the pans clattered and the water ran.
Lunch proceeded like the feeding at a circus, the kitchen echoing with childish growls, squeals, barks and howls. I ate my sandwich calmly, helping to oversee the small beasts while they fed, keeping them perched on their chairs with their food sloppily shifting from plate to fork to face. Diana walked and turned and walked again the circle of six steps from sink to stove to table to refrigerator and back again a thousand times while the cubs asked for one thing after another. I laughed aloud when they finally excused themselves and left me alone for an instant with my wife. We sighed relief in the short lull in our constant storm. The squall quickly returned.
"Mommy!" each called out in turn for no apparent reason other than to interrupt my story. I shooed them away. Finally bored with the game, Anna and Curtis went next door to play. Thomas fell asleep on the sofa, watching some simple childish show on the television. I left the table as the first real moments of silence struck.
"Come here, pretty," I whispered lecherously, crooking my finger at Diana and I started up the stairs.
"Sure," said Diana, pushing in a chair and picking up the basket of clean clothes she had left on the landing. She put the laundry at the foot of our bed and leapt onto the comforter."Listen," I said, crawling beside Diana and nonchalantly fiddling with the button atop her jeans. She fell back onto the bed, readily exposing the brass nub to my awkward manipulations. I worked the metal piece through the thick denim crevice, unleashing the waist of Diana's jeans. "Do you hear that?" I said, cocking my head.
"What?" she asked, pushing her head up again, concerned.
"No kids," I said, pulling at her zipper. Diana giggled and wiggled as I kissed her soft belly, gently yanking down on her pants. She lifted her bottom as I peeled the denim skin past her hips and along her lean thighs. Black satin covered the valley between. I teased the slick fabric with a stretch of my tongue, kneading the furrows below with familiar blindness. "Time for dessert?" I asked, pulling at the waistband of her panties, kissing her golden floss.
"Lick the plate clean," Diana purred. My tongue tickled her lips as I nuzzled in close, pressing her legs wide apart. I indulgently drank in the musk of her damp cunt, teasing her pink swelling lips with a thick swipe, pausing to watch as the water seeped from within. Diana's clit pushed upward to beg my attention, lifted full against my mouth from below. I cupped the firm swells of her ass in my hands, pulling her hard against my warm tongue. Diana moaned and lifted her shirt to fondle her rigid brown nipples.
My prick ached as I stepped up the rhythm of licking, excited to taste her cunt's river bed, taking guidance in the force of her breath, the arch of her back, catching glimpses above as she squeezed her tits hard. I fingered her ass easily, the path drenched with her juice, and Diana twisted to provoke more excitations while I licked her clitoris wet after a long dip in her well.
"Mmm," she said, probably biting her lip. I heard a faint call from outside and below. I hurried; licked her cunt harder, drove deeper, pushed faster, digging my short nails in her fleshy ass cheeks, anxious to finish the act before the curtain came crashing down. Diana squirmed and moaned lowly, bucking the beat. I licked fiercely, frightened by the sound of soft steps methodically mounting the stairs. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Diana shouted, grabbing my hair, pulling me nearly into her widened cunt. I licked desperately and with a sudden nervous howl, the shudders within Diana played over my buried fingers.
"Yes," Diana cried out, pouring slick lust over my jaw.
"Mommy," a small voice called.
"Yes," Diana squealed, letting my tongue take one more long slip along her deep gorge.
"Mommy," the young boy yelled. The door knob rattled.
"Yes," she said pleased, pulling me up to her smile for a sloppy kiss. Diana scooted off the bed and I watched as she quickly squeezed her ripe ass into the blue denim shell.
"Mommy," Thomas groaned painfully. Diana opened our door to discover the distraught child. She gave the child a hug.
"It's all right," she said, in a soothing sweet voice.
"Juice," he whined mercilessly. "Orange juice."
"All right," the young mother said, lifting her son up in her arms. She offered me a wry smile. My prick throbbed painfully as she vanished down the stairs.
"Someday," I said, picking myself up. "I'll go crazy."
"Mom, we're home," another voice called as the front door burst open.
I sat up, my heart still thumping. I licked my damp lips, savoring the lost moment's memory and then with a sigh of resignation, I tried to turn my thoughts toward other things; of ships and strings and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings. | 4 |
3,940 | Jemma: Photo Session | "Let's fix your hood, Jemma. You have such pretty hair, we want to see it," Bill said while adjusting my blindfold under my hood. Then he pulled the hood off.
"Try this one on her," another voice said. "We can pull those cute ponytails through it." It fit like a loose ski mask with a slit on either side. They pulled my pigtails with the purple angora ribbons through the holes. I could flip my head back and forth and make my pigtails fly around to my nose.
"This looks really cute, Jemma, with your hair sticking out the sides of your new hood. Let me help you get dressed now, sweetie," said the other voice. "Sit down while I help you put these thigh-high hose and high heels on."
"But I'm not wearing any clothes," I reminded them, "and besides, I have trouble walking in high heels."
"Let me help you with this nightie, Jemma," said Bill. "Your tan lines will show up great through the sheer material."
"What am I supposed to do, Bill?" I asked as he helped me get into the nightie. It was open in front, came down almost to my waist, and seemed to have a ruffle around the edge. Bill told me it was white to match my hose.
"Jemma, all you have to do is walk around. The photographers will get lots of pictures. Don't worry about what to do. They might tell you how to pose and when to take off your nightie," he explained.
"This is a perfect size for you," Bill said, kneeling in front of me. He traced his finger across the tops of my legs from hip to hip, to show how far down my nightie went. It didn't even reach down all the way to the top of my slit. It was about two inches above it. "Your little white slit is perfect, Jemma. This outfit will drive the judges crazy. They're gonna love watching you wobble around in these high heels with your pointy white breasts showing clearly through your nightie. Your tan lines almost make it look like you're wearing panties, except they will see your tight little lips. Let's go."
We walked out onto a stage. I could see flashes as I wobbled out holding onto Bill's arm. He let me go, and I continued wobbling around. They had me hold open my nightie, which was tied at the neck, and walk around again.
"See if you can squat down on your heels, Jemma," said one of the judges. I did this quickly and almost lost my balance because of the high heels. We all laughed as I recovered. "Such a beautiful little slit, isn't it?" someone commented. "Her tiny pink inside flaps are so small and delicate."
"Perfect," said someone else. "So pink. I'm going to sign up for her 'tasting.'"
"Want me to show you some of my cheerleading exercises?" I asked, eager to please.
"That's a great idea, Jemma," said several of the judges and photographers. I could stand and touch my toes even with the high heels. I did various standing and sitting stretches, feeling complimented by the flashing camera lights. They especially liked the hands and knees stretch when I extended one leg at a time out, up and as high as possible behind me.
"Stay on your hands and knees and see how far you can lower your head," the directions continued. "Put your knees a little farther apart. That's it. Good girl, Jemma. Your little fanny is so cute. Your hole is such a light pink, we can hardly see it."
"Maybe I could stretch it open a little bit wider so you could see it better. Want me to try?" I asked.
"Good idea," said one of the judges, obviously pleased.
With the lights flashing through my hood, I let my shoulders rest on the floor and put my hands on my fanny and pulled my cheeks apart even farther. "How's that?" I asked.
"Excellent!" said several men.
"Take off the nightie now, Jemma, and do some more stretching."
After a few stretches, I asked if I could take off the high heels and do some jumps. They thought that would be fine.
I did cartwheels, jumping jacks, side twists, jogging in place, and some of the other exercises we used to practice. I sat on the floor with legs straight and wide apart, with palms together over my head. I leaned to touch one foot at a time. "You getting all this on the video, Mark?" someone asked. "I love the way her firm, little, white titties are bouncing."
"Every cute little move, jiggle, and stretch. Wouldn't miss a minute," answered Mark. "She should get a whole video of her own when we edit this."
I felt so proud of myself.
"Want to stretch some more on the table for us, Jemma?"
"OK, sure. What do you want me to do?" as they led me down off the stage and lifted me to a padded table. I laid on my back on a towel, surrounded by the judges.
"Go ahead and touch yourself now, Jemma, like you want to make yourself tingle inside," suggested one of the men beside me.
"Like this?" as I began massaging my own breasts. More flashes.
"Here's a challenge for you, Jemma. See if you can touch your front hole and back hole at the same time," dared one of the men by my elbow. "Bet you can't do it."
"I bet I can, because I've done that at home. I could even put a finger in each one at the same time! Want to see?" I said, accepting their dare.
"Yes!" said most of the judges who were crowding around me.
"First I want to put my finger in my mouth to make it slippery. OK?" and not waiting for permission put my right forefinger in my mouth, coating it with lots of spit. I rolled over on my tummy, lifted my hips, spread my legs about a foot apart, put my right hand over my fanny and began making little circles on my fanny hole. My left hand went under me, between my legs and right into my slit, going into the front hole about an inch. Now my back hole was wet, and I pushed my wet finger in almost all the way. "I'll show those guys," I thought to myself, plunging both fingers in and out. Flashes of light told me they were impressed.
"Her little fanny is almost a foot off the table," someone noted, appreciating how limber I was.
"I know another way to do it, too. Want to see?" I asked into the towel.
"Oh, Yeah." "Please do." and other words of encouragement.
I pulled out my fingers and rolled over onto my back, lifted my legs and went on up into a shoulder stand. Then I slowly lowered my legs till my knees were almost next to my head. I put my arms between my legs with elbows on the backs on my knees in a yoga-like posture. Then I put my right forefinger into my mouth again to get it really wet, reached up between my legs, and slid it into my 'back hole,' as they called it. It went all the way in in this position. As I slid my other finger into my now wet pussy, I heard the judges shuffling around by my head for a better view. "Let the camera get closer," someone said as I continued to finger myself, beginning to enjoy the stimulation, as well as the attention.
"She's gonna love the Vibrator Table." "I'll bet she likes the Anal Catch Game." "Can't wait to taste her. Look how juicy she is already." "It's going to be fun massaging her on the Oil Table," and more stimulating comments which were getting me even more excited, and looking forward to the rest of the 'Contests.'
"The tan lines make it look almost like she's wearing panties. Doesn't it Fred?" "And those firm little titties stick straight out in any position," and more comments with each change of position.
Those men made me feel so pretty."We're going to check your muscle tone, Jemma," added a familiar voice, although I didn't know his name. "And your skin tone, after we sprinkle powder all over you." Several of the judges seemed to be following me from contest to contest.
"We're going to put you up on this table, Jemma, on these soft towels. Then we'll sprinkle powder all over and lightly tickle every square inch of your skin, to test the tightness," added Bill as he helped me up, along with other helpful hands. "Stay on your hands and knees for the first part."
Without any further directions, several men started sprinkling powder and 'tickling' it all over me. They covered every square inch, like Bill said they would, but of course, some of my square inches got lots more testing than others! I was noticing the different "touch" of each of the judges - their hands felt different on me - surface roughness, size, degree of gentleness, etc. I liked them all. Each one felt great. One judge was new - big calloused hands with such a light touch. He liked to stand behind me and knead my fanny like it was bread dough.
After about ten minutes, the powder had worked into me - or rubbed off - whatever. Anyway, I only changed positions once - from my hands and knees to flat on my back. They even did my face. Each of the judges took turns kissing me to determine the firmness of my lips. They put my legs straight up in the air and tickled them up and down - toes to fanny, while I held my legs up with my toes pointed.
I hardly talked at all during this contest, just enjoying the sensations. If this was like getting a massage, like they talked about on TV, it was great.
Nobody put fingers 'in' me during the powder part of this contest. Everybody gave my skin tone a score, as if I was in a diving or gymnastics event. "10" "8" "10" "9" and so on.
Then they helped me back to my hands and knees and began putting oil on me - long, squeezing motions - sometimes closer to pinching. It felt good, too. Bill asked me if I was OK since I was quiet. "It just feels so good," I told him.
With all the oil on their hands, they began slipping their fingers deeper and deeper into me. At first I thought it was accidental when they massaged over my pussy or anus, but each time - a little deeper. I noticed that I was leaning into the pressure of their fingers and not leaning away. They must have noticed, too, because I heard some whispered comments like, "She's gonna like the next contest." "Look how she leans back onto my finger. Must like it." I didn't care. They didn't know who I was, as Bill pointed out between each contest, encouraging me to just enjoy the evening.
I almost drooled when the big callused finger slid into my bottom while someone else's finger was all the way in my pussy and two other men were massaging my breasts. The hands and knees position gave them all access and made my breasts more pliable - pointing down - two inches - towards the table top. "Ohhh," I moaned quietly, as the big finger slid slowly into my bottom.
All too quickly I had to lay flat on my back again, which always seemed to make my breasts lose what little definition they had. This time I put my knees up so they could reach more of me. It still felt good, of course, but was not as sensuous as the hands and knees position.
Bill said I got excellent scores on the skin tone and muscle tone event as we left. | 3 |
3,953 | House | "Oh, I ought to have an apartment like yours," said Gwen. I'd been staring at her house, and apparently she'd been reading my thoughts: kind of big for just Gwen.
"It's lovely, and it *is* nice to have your privacy," I replied, politely. It was a typical old city house, certainly dating from before World War II, possibly a hundred years old. But it *was* an attractive house, looking well kept.
"Well, I don't know about the *privacy* part. Would you like to see it?" I'd been dropping her off after our shopping. I wasn't in any hurry, so I glanced at her to assure myself she really would be happy to have me in.
"Oh, sure, I'd *love* to," I replied, judging that she wasn't just being polite.
"Oh, good! We can have tea."
Tea. It *would* be pleasant just to sit and talk some more. Gwen and I seemed to be on the same wavelength, and sometimes I felt we could just talk forever. I turned off the engine and followed her in.
"I *did* tell you that I rent out some rooms," she said as we approached the porch. That's kind of interesting. I wondered what that would be like. She *was* somewhat close to the university. A couple of graduate students, or maybe an instructor or two?
The living room was nicely done, the furniture wasn't new or anything, but the room felt comfortable and she had knickknacks around that, well, if not like I'd choose, they were nice enough. A *man* walked into the living room as soon as I'd gotten a look.
"Hi, Ms. Sanders," he said. Well, he was a boy, actually. I judged him to be twenty or so. He looked happy to see Gwen, and stood there in front of us.
"This is Jimmy," Gwen said to me, then turned to him: "Hi Jimmy, this is Ms. Billings. We were shopping and she just stopped in for a little while."
"Hi Ms. Billings," then clearly addressing both of us, he said "Come in the kitchen: I'll make you tea."
"Why thank you, Jimmy," she answered. I must say I was a bit surprised: this Jimmy seemed more polite and obliging than *anyone* I remembered running across in a long time. We followed him through the living room. "He *is* just a doll," said Gwen to me as we followed him, again evidently reading my thoughts. He took us through a dining room and into the kitchen. Gwen and I sat at a nice kitchen table and Jimmy started heating water and getting out tea.
"We have Earl Gray, Constant Comment, and some flavored varieties," he volunteered, holding a couple of boxes.
"Any preference?" Gwen asked.
They all sounded good to me, but naturally I had to say something: "Constant Comment sounds good." I looked at Jimmy turning to work. He was dressed in shorts and a tee shirt and was barefoot. Average height, but looking fit and his face was nice. Kind of a hunk, really. Definitely an undergraduate. *Gwen living with a hunky kid!*
Another man came in the back door. Well, a *boy*, if you want to call him that. "Hi, Ms. Sanders," he said and Gwen ended up introducing him as Billy before he sailed on by.
Gwen renting rooms to college boys! It was the last thing I would have guessed: they seemed *real* nice and it was easy to imagine it would be very pleasant if you got the right tenants, but still, it was amazing to me. Then Jimmy was bringing the tea over.
"Need anything else?" he asked, standing there, like a waiter, for God's sake.
"Thank you very much," I said.
"No, thank you Jimmy, that'll be all," Gwen added. Jimmy went out the back door.
I looked at Gwen and I know my face was registering amusement. "Like my boys?" she asked, obviously picking up on my thoughts.
"Are they the sons you never had?" I asked.
"Oh, they're just dolls, every one of them," she answered.
"How many do you rent to?" I found myself asking. I didn't want to be nosy, but curiosity had caught me up.
"Nine right now," she answered.
"Nine!? Oh, I'm sorry," I said, feeling embarrassed at the way I'd blurted out. She giggled.
"Like them? Wouldn't you want lots of 'em around?" She had a very sly look on her face.
"Well, do you have much privacy?" I asked.
"Oh, we're like a big, happy family. I'd hate living in a big house like this if it were all empty." She was right about that: the house was quite generous.
"I'd think they'd be coming in and out all night: do they bring friends over?"
"Well, I have to say they're very nice to me: they're very considerate about not being out too late or making too much noise. Want to see the rest of the house?" I assented, and then followed her back toward the front hall. "Their girlfriends are such *nice* girls: I don't mind having them over." We'd reached the stairs and a boy was coming down. "Randy's girlfriend Jenny is *really nice*, isn't she, Randy?"
"Yes Ma'am," he answered. He went on back toward the kitchen and we started up the stairs. At the top was a hallway and several bedroom doors. The hall had a nice, if old oriental carpet and an old chest and was quite attractive.
"How do you keep things so neat with all these males around?" I ventured. Yes, I'd had brothers.
"Oh, I told you, they are nice boys. Come see one of the bedrooms." We peeked in the room: it had two beds in it and was in perfect order. I heard footsteps behind us and glanced back to see a boy walking by dressed only in underpants! He disappeared into the bathroom, glanced at us and shut the door, but I stood there in shock, staring at the shut door.
"Oh, that was Stewart," said Gwen. "We're casual about dress here."
"I should say so!" I replied. Someone was coming up the stairs: it was Randy.
"The boys don't mind if I see, do you, Randy?" The bathroom door opened again, and Stewart walked back to his room, still in his underpants: briefs in fact, and they certainly showed his bulge!
"No Ma'am, Ms. Sanders," Randy replied and he walked into the room we had just peeked into.
"He *is* cute, isn't he?" she said to me, in a lower voice. We were just looking at him through the door. He certainly was hunky: muscular looking and a cute face. "Come here," she added, walking into Randy's room. I just followed. Randy, who had been doing something at a desk in the corner turned around and looked at us inquiringly.
"Randy, take off your shirt and show Ms. Billings your chest." I had to catch myself to keep from gasping.
"Sure, Ms. Sanders," he said, and started pulling his tee-shirt off! I just stood there watching, not believing what I was seeing. Soon he was right in front of us, his bare chest exposed. She put her hand on it softly, then looked at me, smiling.
"Nice, isn't it?"
"Uh, yuh," I kind of mumbled.
"Go ahead, touch it," she said. I didn't move a muscle, then she took my hand and quickly put it on his chest. My heart was beating like it was going to jump out of my own chest. It wasn't just that he was handsome, it was just the *audacity* of the whole thing! "You have a nice chest, don't you Randy?"
"Thank you, Ms. Sanders." He was so cheerful about it!
"You don't mind showing it off for me, do you?"
"No, Ms. Sanders." She sat on the bed that was behind us, and managed to get me to do it, too.
"They're really nice about it: don't mind a bit," she added. "Take off your shorts for Ms. Billings, Randy."
"Gwen!" I said, suddenly shocked. He started doing it, without a word.
"Oh, he doesn't mind," she answered. And there he was, standing in just his underpants! I tried not to stare at the bulge. "Come here, Randy." He approached closer. This was getting too wild. Then she reached up to the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down to his knees! Then she grinned at me. "He's got a nice penis too, doesn't he?"
"Gwen!"
"Oh, relax, he doesn't mind, do you Randy?"
"No, Ms. Sanders."
"He really is a nice boy," and she took his cock in fingers and lifted it! I don't see penises that often, but it looked big to me, though not hard at all. She held it one way and another, then pushed his testicles sideways a little with her other hand, letting them swing. "Here, see what it feels like," she said.
"Gwen, no."
"Oh, come on," she said, and took my hand and put his cock in it. I stood there, like a statue, with that boy's cock laying in my hand. "It's nice and big, isn't it?" I didn't answer. "Oh, don't worry, the boys don't mind, do you Randy?"
"No Ma'am."
It was weird. I ended up lifting it up and encircling it with my fingers. The last thing I ever expected to be doing. "He does have a nice one. And Jenny certainly agrees, doesn't she Randy?"
"I hope so, Ma'am.There had been footsteps on the stairs, and I'd quickly withdrawn my hands, dropping his cock back to its normal position. "It's nice when it's erect, too," added Gwen. And someone walked in the room!
It was Jimmy who had made us tea. He didn't react at all to us, just walked over to his closet and got out some sneakers. "Show us how you make it erect, Randy," Gwen went on.
"Yes, Ma'am," he responded, ever polite, and he put his hand around his cock and started stroking it back and forth.
"And his *behind* is nice, too; turn around and show us, Randy."
"Yes, Ma'am," and he turned, still stroking his cock. She immediately had her hands on his buns, cupping them. They *were* rather good looking. Then she ran her finger up the crack of his rear, pressing in, then gave me a knowing little smile.
"So how did you get such a cute little rear?" Gwen asked him.
"I don't know. Thank you, Ma'am!" He was still stroking.
"OK, show us that hard penis!" He turned, and she got him to stop when he was sideways to us. It was somewhat erect, sticking out on an angle. She smiled at me, then lightly touched the underside. It jumped a little. Then she gave his rear a playful little pat.
"They all have cute rears, but I think Randy's is the best, and I'll bet Jenny agrees with me. Jimmy," she said, turning toward Jimmy who was tying his sneakers, "come over here."
He jumped right up and came over: "Yes, Ma'am."
"Take off your clothes for Ms. Billings."
He didn't answer, but quickly pulled off his sneakers that he had just been putting on, as well as his shorts, t-shirt, and underpants. "Jimmy has a nice penis too," she said as soon as it was visible. He was standing right next to Randy. "Make it hard for us, Jimmy."
"Yes, Ms. Sanders." He stroked it, and I watched it grow.
"Randy, go get the K.Y. jelly," she said then. He was off out the door and back in a few seconds with a tube.
"This is *really* cute," Gwen said privately to me. Jimmy was still stroking his cock, which was getting harder and harder. She had the tube in her hand and was opening it.
"OK, turn around, Randy, and keep your penis erect."
"Yes, Ma'am," and he stood there, his buns to us, stroking himself. She started putting the jelly in the crack of his rear! She pushed gobs of it in!
Then she told Jimmy to stop stroking himself, and she spread it over his cock!
"OK, Randy, lean over the bed," and he leaned over it, resting on his straight arms. "OK, Jimmy, put your penis in his rear."
"Yes, Ma'am," and he got behind Randy and started guiding his penis in.
"You see a cute rear like Randy's and you just *have* to see *this*, don't you?" she said to me. That really wasn't what I would have thought of!
"Are they gay?" I asked. Duh.
"Do you like having the penis in your rear, Randy?"
"No, Ma'am."
"They're just nice boys. They really are obliging. And do you like putting your penis in Randy's rear, Jimmy?"
"No, Ms. Sanders."
"So why do you do it, Jimmy?"
"For you, Ms. Sanders. I don't mind."
"Do you like girls, Jimmy?"
"Oh, yes, Ms. Sanders."
"Now come for me, Jimmy."
"Yes, Ms. Sanders." He started moving harder, and Gwen reached over and started stroking Randy's partially hard cock.
"How does that feel, Randy?"
"It's OK, Ma'am."
"Does it hurt?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Does it make you feel filled up?" She still casually stroked his cock.
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Do you want to come?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Why, Randy?"
"I... you made me hard, Ma'am."
"Well, we wouldn't want to mess up the bed, would we?"
"No, Ma'am." Suddenly, she leaned over and took his cock in her mouth! She kept stroking him, and Jimmy kept pumping in. Soon, it looked to me like they were both coming. Gwen just kept her head on his cock, and I could see her swallowing. Then she sat up and looked at me, smiling.
"Did you like that, Randy?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Even with the penis in you?"
"It was OK."
"OK, you two go to the bathroom and clean up," she said. They left, and she picked up their clothes and carefully laid them on the bed, and smoothed the bed where he had been sitting. "Let's go see the rest of the house," she said, "and you have to stay for dinner."
"Uh, I don't know..."
"Oh, listen," she said. "You don't have to be embarrassed: they really don't mind. You heard them say so."
"Gwen, this is weird."
"Come on, you took me shopping; I'm going to feed you."
"Uh..."
"Oh, come now. You watched them play for us; what's a little dinner? I'm not going to let up until you agree!"
I was in a bind. Even though I'd stood there watching, it was too much: I needed to get out. Randy and Jimmy came back into the room and started dressing.
"Boys, tell Ms. Billings she simply has to stay for dinner."
"OK, I'll stay!" I said, a little hasty. I don't know what made me suddenly give in, but I felt nervous about continuing the conversation with the boys. They were both dressed.
"Jimmy, are you going out?" Gwen asked. He'd put on his sneakers again.
"I was planning on it, but if you wish, I could stay."
"That's all right, Jimmy, run along. It's your class, isn't it? I don't want you boys to miss your classes!"
"Yes, Ms. Sanders," he answered and headed down the stairs.
"Oh, and Randy: could you show Ms. Billings the rest of the house? I'd better check on our supper plans."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"And Randy, I'd like you to do anything Ms. Billings wishes."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Then she said to me in a low voice: "He licks wonderfully," and she was gone. And I was left there alone with Randy, standing there.
"Do you want me to lick you?" asked Randy.
"Uh, no! I'd better be going," I answered, deciding I shouldn't have said anything about staying.
"If you'd prefer, I can just show you the rest of the house," he said.
"No, that's OK," I said quickly, and started downstairs. Gwen was at the bottom.
"Supper's about ready," she said, a bright smile on her face.
"Well, thanks for having me..." I started.
"Nonsense! You're staying for supper. And you've got to meet Jenny."
"Some other time. I have to..." But I didn't finish. The front door opened, and in came two young women.
"Here they are now!" said Gwen. She was looking excited, like a child at Christmas or something. I thought she'd clap her hands next. "This is Jenny, and you must be Carla!" Jenny was attractive, with a thin face, wavy (almost frizzy) brown hair reaching her shoulders, and a slender build. The girl she guessed was Carla was black and similar to Jenny in height and build. They were both in jeans and sleeveless tops and both looked like very pleasant young women.
"Yes, Ms. Sanders," said Jenny.
"How do you do, Ms. Sanders?" added Carla.
"Why fine, thank you. You're such a lovely girl; Jenny has told us so much about you." Carla looked a little surprised, but didn't say anymore. "And this is my good friend, Ms. Billings," she added.
"Hello, Ms. Billings, it's so nice to meet you," said Jenny.
"Yes..." added Carla, a little uncertainly. She looked a little confused.
"Well, the boys say dinner is ready!" chimed in Gwen again, "so let's get it while it's hot." I found myself walking in with them.
The dining table was huge, and I found myself sitting with a bunch of boys: at least eight. At least three more were serving. I sat next to Carla. Besides her and Jenny, there was one more girl, whose name was Brenda and who had short blond hair and, well, a big chest.
Dinner was a feast, and was quite pleasant even if the conversation seemed stilted. Gwen would say something, and whoever she was addressing would say "Yes, Ms. Sanders" or "Yes, Ma'am". Carla, sitting next to me, mentioned it.
"This is so strange," she said to me in a low voice. I looked at her inquiringly. "The way they all talk," she added. "You're the only one who seems sane. Jenny isn't usually this way."
I stumbled a little on what to respond, but finally came out with: "I know what you mean: Gwen just invited me in, and I was leaving when you came."
"I think I'd like to go, but Jenny drove and I know she means to stay."
"I can drive you back: to school?"
"That would be great: I'm in Smith Dorm."
"Let's leave as soon as dinner is over."
"Oh, thanks! You're a life saver!"
We didn't talk anymore about it, but we caught each other's eye a bit when Jenny or one of the others came out with a polite, but flat, robot-like response.
After dinner, I was sitting in the living room. Carla had gone upstairs to the bathroom, and after looking at a magazine for a while, I realized she'd been up there a long time: twenty minutes or more! I looked around: a couple of the boys were sitting in the room, studying. Earlier, I'd heard the sounds of cleanup from dinner, but that had settled down. Everyone had left me pretty much alone, which was fine, but I began to wonder about Carla.
Finally, I wandered up the stairs. Once I reached the upstairs hall, I realized that the bathroom door was wide open and the bathroom was empty! I glanced around: the bedroom doors were also open, and there was no one around.
Except for one door: it looked like it might be a bedroom door. I didn't hear anything, so I quietly tapped on it.
"Carla?" I asked quietly. No answer. I cautiously opened the door.
Randy and Jenny were standing in there. "Oh, I'm sorry," I gulped, and started to back out.
"No, wait!" Jenny responded, coming my way. And Randy was over in a flash and grabbed my upper arm. Not really hard, but I didn't want to pull away. "Come on in, Ms. Billings," added Jenny. I realized that her *no, wait* had had more expression in her voice than anything she'd said so far, but now her voice was that same flat politeness.
"Uh, have you seen Carla?" I asked.
"No, Ms. Billings," Jenny replied.She then proceeded to shut the door and lock it with an old-fashioned key, putting the key in her pocket.
I stared. As soon as she'd done that, Randy let go of me.
"You stay here with us, Ms. Billings," said Jenny. "Ms. Sanders told us to entertain you." I stared at her but didn't say anything.
She approached Randy and looked up at his face for a moment. Then she started unbuttoning his shirt. He just stood there, looking down at her while she did it. When she had it unbuttoned and pulled out of his jeans, she undid the front of his jeans, then untied his sneakers.
"Take off your shirt," she said to him. Once again, her voice didn't have that flat politeness she'd been using before: she almost sounded *angry* at him. He immediately took it off.
"And the tee-shirt." He did it. And she kept naming articles of clothing, and he kept taking them off until he was standing there, entirely naked. Then she walked around him and gave his rear a hard slap. She looked at me and giggled and said: "A cute boytoy, eh, Ms. Billings?" She had this sly look. He just stood there, looking straight ahead.
"On your knees," she said. Her voice now actually sounded harsh. He was immediately kneeling. She walked over to me and gave me a smile. Something about her look made me nervous.
"OK, let's do it," she said, still looking right at me. Then suddenly she was behind me, holding me. And then Randy was kneeling right in front of me, undoing *my* pants!
Then he had them down and my underpants down and was licking me! I was pulled into leaning against Jenny who had her arms tightly around me. Then she was taking my blouse off!
Then he stopped! I realized I was completely naked, Jenny holding me standing.
"OK, on the bed," she said. Immediately he lay on the bed, face down. Jenny shifted to my side and walked me to the bed. We looked down at Randy's back and rear. "Want to touch it?" asked Jenny, as we stood there. I didn't say anything, and we ended up just standing there. "OK, turn over," she finally said, and Randy turned himself over. His cock stood straight up.
"Want to ride that thing?" Jenny whispered in my ear. I just stared at it. Then she was at the night stand and came back with K.Y. Jelly and covered his cock with it.
"OK, up on the bed," she told me. "Stand over him." She literally climbed up to standing on it, pulling me up with her. She positioned us so we were both straddling him, me standing right over his cock. She stood in front of me, facing me, over his head. We just stood there, and she took off her clothes.
I stared at her body. "OK, down you go," she said, and started pressing down on my shoulders. I murmured a *no* or something. I started getting down on my knees: she was pressing harder and harder. "I'll bet it's been a while," she said. Then I was kneeling, right over his cock. She took it in her hand and held it straight up. "OK, do it," she said. When I didn't move, she just sat there, waiting me out.
"It's waiting for you," she said in a whisper. She was kneeling over him, facing me, still straddling his head. I lowered myself. I felt it touch. She started feeling me, and positioned it. "Now, down!" she said, a little louder than a whisper. It was touching me, ready to go in. I was scared to do it, but the feeling of it touching me like that was too much. She smiled at me. She knew what it felt like. "Feels good, doesn't it?" she said, proving the point.
"Yes!" I said, and started to lower myself. It was going in exactly right. *Exactly right* isn't the word: it was driving me crazy!
"You are *very* patient," she said. "I'd be bouncing like crazy by this time." Then she leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, hard. And pushed me all the way down.
Then she broke the kiss. I was bouncing, getting it to go in and out. And I realized that she'd finally lowered herself right on his face. I could see that he was doing something, and she was suddenly not looking at me at all, but up above my head.
Then suddenly, she seemed to 'come to', and gave me another sly grin, and grabbed my breasts. She touched them and fingered my nipples. I still bounced up and down on his cock. Then she leaned over and tried to get one of my breasts in her mouth. She managed to lick it a couple of times.
Then she grabbed my head, stopping my bouncing, and pulled me into another kiss. Her tongue was in my mouth. Then her lips were at my ear and she whispered "Come, you little slut!" Then she was kneeling upright again, but her fingers darted to my clitoris and started fiddling with it.
I couldn't take it. I bounced and bounced and came and came. I watched her clamp her thighs harder over his face, and she got that far-away look again, and I could tell she was coming too.
Then we were in a heap. The three of us on the bed. I found myself on one side of Randy, with Jenny on the other. None of us moved.
I'd lain there a while and no one had moved. Then it was like I'd *come to*: I wondered how I'd allowed this all to happen! I got up and looked for my clothes.
I couldn't find them! I would have sworn they'd have been right on the floor.
I looked some more. The two of them were still lying on the bed, snuggling. I thought maybe they were both asleep.
I was in a panic. Where were my clothes? I found a bathrobe and put it on. Then I looked in Jenny's jeans and found the key. I unlocked the door and peeked out.
I didn't know what to do. I went out in the hall, no real plan having come to mind. I explored the hall a bit more, and found that another door was to a back staircase! I went down. It came out in a little hall next to the kitchen. No one was in the kitchen, but another staircase to the basement was there, and I heard talking down there. I quietly went down.
There were a bunch of them there. Carla was standing in the middle of the room, naked, and one of the boys was kneeling in front of her, also naked, his face right to her. Another naked boy was standing right behind her, almost pushing her into the kneeling boy. She didn't look at me even though she was generally facing my way: she just had this distant expression.
Grace was down there too, sitting on a table watching them. She was dressed in a blue one-piece swimsuit. She looked at me, and then hopped off the table and walked over in her bare feet. "Isn't she doing nicely?" she asked, standing next to me, facing Carla. I looked down at Grace's hand. She was carrying a huge whip. And the basement: it had stone walls, almost like a dungeon, but even more so: two of the other boys *and* the other girl, Brenda, were all chained to the walls! They were naked, chained flat, spread-eagled, facing the walls. I noticed that they were all blindfolded.
"I think she's ready," Grace said. The kneeling boy stood up, and with the boy who had been behind Carla, got on each side of her, and walked her to another set of manacles on the wall. She just walked with them, seemingly in a daze. When they got there, they started fastening her to the wall like the others. Grace, who'd just watched them, started swinging the whip around. "She'll do just fine," she said. I turned around and ran up the stairs.
I reached the kitchen and still didn't know what to do. So I continued up. The upstairs was deserted too, so I looked at the door that I'd come out of. Randy and Jenny were probably still in there. I quietly opened it.
They'd been lying on the bed, but both immediately sat up: "You left," said Jenny, sounding as if I were a complete traitor.
"I.. need my clothes," I said.
She stood up, but she came over and pulled on my arm. "Come back here," she said. I don't know why: I was so shaken, and she seemed so much saner than I felt. I just followed her lead.
She took me back to the bed. Soon I found myself lying between them. And naked again. She turned out the light by the bed and the room was dark. In the dark, she pressed her body against mine and kissed me. And I found myself on my side, sandwiched between them. I felt his cock slip into me from behind. Afterwards, she turned around, and the three of us spooned.
It was light and I awoke to find them sleeping soundly. I looked again for my clothes and found nothing. I settled on the bathrobe and slipped out, leaving them still sleeping.
In the kitchen, a couple of the boys were busy at the stove. Gwen was there, and so was Carla. "Good morning: breakfast will be ready soon," said Gwen. "Do you want coffee?"
I spoke to Gwen in a low voice: "Gwen, I have to go. I can't find my clothes."
"Nonsense! Not before breakfast! Say good morning to Ms. Billings, Carla."
"Good morning, Ms. Billings." She had that flat, polite look and voice. And she was dressed in a very short nightgown with matching panties.
"She's doing very nicely, isn't she?" said Gwen. "And she's so cute. Show her your breasts Carla."
She lifted her nightgown to above her chest. I stared. Gwen reached over and started fingering and pushing around one of her nipples. Then the other. I stared as they grew hard. "Do you like this, Carla?" she asked.
"I don't mind, Ms. Sanders," she answered. Gwen looked at me and grinned. | 4 |
3,955 | JayCee | "It's a girl's bathing suit," he said. As I'd suspected and assumed.
"Do you think she's been trying to tell you something? You want to look nice, don't you? You've been a boy who's ashamed of his breasts. Now be a girl and be proud of them. Go. I'll wait for you."
He was still uncertain. I had to use Petey's dumb line. "You promised, remember?" I sounded reasonable and confident. The fact was, he didn't have a choice. He went in.
A few minutes later, he came out wearing the bathing suit his mother had selected. It was an iridescent blue Maillot with flowery front panels, one piece with supported cups - and he really did need them - and a draped detachable skirt gathered to one side. With the skirt clipped on, I couldn't see how his male parts or his female-shaped buttocks fit the suit's bottom, but one thing at a time.
"Now you're decent. Stop trying to hide your breasts by slumping - it won't work. Be proud. Shoulders back. That's it. Whether you're a boy or a girl, be proud. It's easier for girls." I decided to go further. "And you're a very pretty girl, Marianne. Let's swim some more, and then we'll see what kind of a girl you can be when you really try. So far you haven't been trying. Another time maybe I'll help you become the best boy you can be, though I'll be frank, you don't look much like a boy to me. Then we'll be able to see which one of you is more you."
I stood up and walked over to the edge of the pool. He did the same, a little awkwardly. I decided he was going to learn to walk with mincing little steps, like some cutie pie who's a little timid but thinks her rear end is made of candy. That would be attractive. A bimbo walk is always reassuring to guys who are unsure of themselves. I watched him unhook the skirt and drape it over a chair. His bathing suit was severely high-cut, and it left bare the lower globes of his rounded rear end. They were gorgeous. I saw that he needed a bikini shave, and added that to my agenda for later this afternoon. I also saw that whatever grew there between his legs barely disturbed the neat V-line of his bathing suit's crotch. His genitals weren't very consequential. They'd tuck, and a sanitary napkin would give him a smooth mound, and then any boy could grind his groin into him while dancing, or could feel him up during a heavy petting session, without suspecting anything. As long as the boy doesn't try to dig his fingers in.
Off and running, at $225 a week and expenses, and my college money pretty much assured. I began to think about which expensive private colleges attract the most expensive boys, boys who like doing things girls ask them to do, boys who can afford to indulge girls that way. But first things first.
I was careful to keep him out in the hot noonday sun and the broiling early afternoon sun too. We splashed, and lay around, and talked some more. I showed him how to sit down on the side of the pool and pose, and stand up again, and lie around, without ever spreading his legs or being caught looking awkward, how to keep his elbows high when he reached behind his neck with both hands to lift his long hair off his back, and how to spread it over his breasts to dry. I decided that we'd both take the two-week modeling course being offered at the high school next week, so he could learn more girlish poses, and how to walk like a lady. He reluctantly agreed. I didn't tell him that posture was only part of what they'd teach him, that makeup and appropriate clothes and attitudes toward boys was much of it, not only "Tips on Travel" but also "Manners and Men" it said in the catalogue. I expected that ten days of enforced sociability with girls who thought he was a girl would have its effect on a lonely, ungainly, embarrassed boy. I figured he'd come out of it happy for the companionship, glad to be one of them. He was so desperate to belong!
By mid-afternoon, his scoop back and bra top and V-shaped bottom were outlined in a pretty pink sunburn. When his mother saw those shoulder strap marks, there'd be no question I'd earned my money today, I thought to myself. But we had more to do yet. Though we'd talked about this tryout lasting only a few weeks, I wanted to set things up so there'd be no turning back. So he wouldn't want to turn back.It was cunt or nothing, probably nothing when girls saw that pitiable thing. He had no future as a man.
Which returned me to my earlier idea. The more I thought about it, the better I liked it. In fact, I *loved* it. I'd do it! It was past time. Here was a prick ideally designed to take my virginity.
But fucking me had to be a reward for obedience. I went into my lingerie drawer. "Here, put these on," I told him, handing him my prettiest bra and panty set, the bra size larger than any I usually wore, and underwired for support. I'd been keeping it in a kind of hope chest, though my own figure hadn't changed much during the past year. It would fit him, I figured, and once dressed in my undies, he'd feel he was mine in a way, sort of gift wrapped.
"I can't," he said. "These are girl things!"
"Well, duh!" I said, and turned to find him a blouse and a pair of shorts. I took out a full-cut white satin blouse buttoned along one shoulder, draped from the neck and sure to cling and then drape from those boobs of his. Perfect. And I found shorts with elastic to fit him at the waist, flared way out at the legs to look practically like a mini-skirt. And thin-strapped sandals, delicate looking.
When I turned back holding his new outfit, I saw he'd slipped into the panties, but otherwise he hadn't moved. "Marianne, you need dry clothes," I told him firmly. "You can't walk down the street wearing that soaking wet shirt. And your bathing suit's wet too. And you can't walk bare-chested! It wouldn't be decent! With that body you'd stop cars!"
Before he could object, I slipped the bra over his arms and clipped the band snug behind his back, where I knew he couldn't reach the catch. Boys never can. It'll take him a while to figure out how to get it off without cutting it off, I thought.
"Well, OK, but why this? Why a brassiere?"
"Tuck yourself into those cups," I told him firmly. "So you don't bobble. Because girls with titties wear brassieres, that's why. And boys with titties should too. It isn't healthy to have those things jouncing around loose. After a while, they'll sag." I paused. "And besides, girls who don't wear bras always seem to be asking for something. If you go without a bra, everyone will think you want to get laid. Do you want to get laid?"
He blushed and looked down, reaching for some flaw in my argument but unable to find any. I suppose he never noticed that yesterday, when we first met, I wasn't wearing a bra. He knew he needed one, but he had to put up one last rear guard defense.
"I stick way out, JayCee," was all he replied. His voice sounded a little mournful. "How'm I supposed to look like a boy sometimes if I look like this?" He was staring down at what were now obviously a great pair of knockers held firmly supported far out in front of him. I didn't answer. There was no answer. "JayCee, these'll stop cars too," he then said. And he flashed me his first smile of the day. A joke! It was so utterly endearing. Then he added, "I bet I could charge money if anyone wanted to cop a feel!"
Well, that was true enough. And before I could say so, he stood up wearing only his bra and panties -- his now, though he didn't know it yet -- and struck a girly-girly pose with one hand tucked into the hair at the nape of his beck, and the other planted on his hip. He waggled those great breasts and his round tush and added, "I wonder how much?"
I smiled back. I understood. He was scared. His identity as a boy was slipping away. So he was getting a grip on his fear by joking with me, by pretending to be a loose woman. He thought he was joking. I smiled even more broadly as I wondered seriously whether to include a week as a real streetwalker in his summer's curriculum. A week spent patrolling the freight station area would teach him more about being a girl than any of us knew, for sure, including his own mother. No, I thought. When school begins there'll be plenty of guys hitting on him, and we'll deal with those problems then. He was now moving down the track his mother had laid out when she'd started feeding him those knockout doses of vitamins: if his body looked like a girl's, and it couldn't be changed, then he shouldn't be ashamed of it. As I'd been telling him, he should accept that he looked like a girl, and he could begin to work out for himself what kind of girl he'd like to be.
"How does the bra feel, Marianne? Nice? It doesn't bind or pinch?"
"Better than I thought it might," Marianne said, a little uncertain. No, it was a little shy. "I like the support. It's like being held and hugged, and when I move my chest doesn't seem so...floppy."
"Well, wait till you feel this on your skin." I handed him a satin blouse.
When he slipped on the blouse, there came another moment of truth. If anything, the shiny fabric draped across his breasts in a way that accentuated them. Now even his nipples jutted way forward. In fact, they stiffened and poked through to form two pointed tips accentuating the effect. He looked sexy, downright provocative, indecent.
"I can't wear this," he said. "Don't you have a loose shirt?"
Not for him I didn't. "No," I said. "You look fine. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
He was looking down again, and his manly pride struggled with what I'd just said. Not to feel ashamed. But I was reminded again that he was no fool. He just said very quietly, "JayCee, now I do look like a boy with breasts. I look like a freak."
"No," I said. "You look hot. No one will ever believe you're a boy." I eyed him, and realized that with that cute face and those globes on his chest, that was true. Was I myself responding to him as a boy or as a girl? Why worry about it?
"Just wait," I said. I saw now that I could move very fast. "Put these on and sit down," I said, handing him his flared shorts. He did quickly, without noticing that just off his hips they swirled out to form a cute, flirty mini. Then in no time at all I had his hair pinned up into one of my Betty Grable styles, and he'd slipped into those delicate sandals with just a little heel, and before he realized what I was doing I'd given him just a touch of mascara and lipstick. When he saw the lipstick in my hand coming at his face he tried to object, but I just ordered him to stop fussing. I was thinking to myself that from now on, for the rest of his life, he'll be wearing at least this much makeup, because that's what girls do, and that's what he was. Another first.
And that's all it took. "Now you don't look at all like a boy with breasts," I said. I gave him my hand mirror, and busied myself as if with other things. But I kept an eye on him.
"No, I don't," he said, as he stared at the face staring back at him from the mirror, obviously uncertain what to think. He couldn't quite say what he saw, a passable teenage girl. So I said it for him.
"You look like a girl with breasts. Enjoy it! A girl should be what she can do. From now on those knockers of yours belong to the world, and that face over them. They're your best features. No more trying to hide them! Bras and a little makeup from now on!"
"Are you telling me I should look like this from now on?" he asked, as if somehow I hadn't just said it.
"For the summer," I said. "That's the deal. After that, it's your choice. You can look like a pretty girl, or like a freaky boy with breasts. I'm telling you nothing. You figure it out. But for the next few weeks anyhow, you're what you see. Now sit down on the bed. I want you to know there are certain advantages."
He sat down on the bed. He seemed a little resentful, still trying to think of someone or something to blame that the boy he'd thought he was was getting more difficult to locate. I sat down next to him, and before he could realize what I was doing, I reached for his nearest hand, and placed it squarely on my naked breast. It felt warm on my cool skin.
"Feel this," I said to him. "What do you feel?"
'Your breast, JayCee." He turned very quiet, very solemn all of a sudden. I guessed mine were the first he had ever touched, apart from his own.
"A girl's breast, Marianne. Like yours. Caress them, please. Kiss them, please. Both of them."
I lay back and he leaned over me, bringing up his other hand too. Now each hand held one of my breasts for a moment, cupping them underneath with the fingertips fondling my nipples ever so lightly. I began again to feel a stirring down under, probably like what he was feeling under his panties and flared shorts at this moment. I reached for his breasts as he leaned over me, and began to touch and squeeze his jutting nipples in their satin enclosure, and run my fingers around them, and stroke them. He shivered.
"Oooohhhhh" he said in a delicious, high-pitched sigh. He closed his eyes, though his hands were still busy on me.
"Kiss them," I whispered. He did. Tenderly, one kiss on the nipple of each. Then gently he put his mouth over one and began to suckle on me, lapping the tips of my nipples with his tongue. "Mmmmmmmm" he sighed again, in that same flutelike tone of voice. I reminded myself to train him to use that voice from now on. It was so very seductive! I cupped both his breasts and then again gently tweaked each nipple. Each grew stiffly erect inside his bra and blouse. His mouth now firmly planted on one of my boobs, he started to breathe more rapidly.
"These are mine now, aren't they, Marianne?" I said in a tense voice.
He wasn't sure which pair I meant, of course, but he was in an exquisite trance and he wanted to stay there."Mmmmmmmmm," he moaned again, and his lips took in more of me more ferociously, his tongue tip now flicking my nipples, first on one breast, then on the other, then back to the first.
"You'll wear a bra until I tell you it isn't necessary," I continued. "And you'll feel proud of your breasts, always!" I began kneading them with my thumb and forefinger, delicately pinching the tip of each. "Because they're beautiful and they're a woman's breasts. And because they're mine and I'm proud of them. Promise me!"
"Mmmmmmmmmm!" was all he said. My nipples are small, much smaller than his, but he was slurping and sucking on the one in his mouth like a starved infant. His first since he'd been an infant, I suppose.
"Promise!" I repeated. I stopped moving my hands for a moment.
He lifted his head. "I promise!" he whispered intensely, and began to lower his head again.
"Promise what?" I asked.
He raised his head and held his face just above mine, and looked into my eyes. "I promise not to be ashamed of my breasts, JayCee," he said quite seriously. His breathing slowed down. "Because they're a woman's breasts. And because they're yours."
Such a lovely boy! Already my lovely girl! It was time to raise the ante. I knew I hadn't made a mistake about him earlier!
I smiled up at him, looking deep into his eyes. "Now take off your shorts and panties, Marianne. Then lie back down on the bed. Right where I am. It's all warm and snug right here."
I slipped to one side and stood up, and he stripped and replaced me on the bed, his little prick pointing straight up, stiff as a clothespin, swollen thicker than I'd thought it could get, but really not much longer. Long enough. I quickly hopped back onto the bed and straddled his crotch, my wet pussy now an inch or two above that jutting boy-cock of his. It would never get bigger.
"I've never done this with any boy," I told him. "You'll see I'm telling the truth. And I won't do it again until I meet the boy I'll marry, if I ever do. But I want to do it with you. You're special. You're not a boy. You're a girl who can put her cock into me and fuck me. Aren't you?"
He drew in his breath sharply and nodded, obviously unable to believe his extraordinary luck. It was happening! At last! He closed his eyes and held his breath, unsure what to expect next.
I was about to lose my cherry too, and not just as a figure of speech. But I'd had lots of chances before, so it wasn't as big a deal for me. I started to fondle his breasts and his nipples again, and he let out his breath in a sweet sigh. He was already in paradise!
"Say it," I said. "Aren't you?"
"Yessssss!" My fingertips were rubbing the tips of his satin-tipped boobs again, and he could think of nothing else. He lifted his chest into my hands, ecstatic.
"Yes what? What are you?"
"I'm a girl who can fuck you, JayCee," he whispered, distracted from his pleasure by the need to speak, eager to relax into those delicious feelings. I let him.
"Yes," I repeated. "You're a girl. You're my girl now." And I lowered my pussy until my outer lips touched his little cock. He felt them and held his breath again. I lowered myself a little more, and felt myself gripping his cock head. Just like my small vibrator he felt, but a lot warmer! He lifted his hips as high as he could and held himself absolutely still. I lowered onto him a little more and felt more of him inside me, and finally felt his prick press on an obstruction further in. I stopped for a moment.
"Look at me, Marianne!"
He opened his eyes. They were filled with so much happiness they glistened! He was such a darling dear! My very first boy! With his hair piled on his head, and his mascara'd eyes, and traces of lipstick still on his lips, and above all those women's breasts rising high over his chest, he was also my very first girl! So wonderful! I looked tenderly and steadily into his eyes as more tears welled up in them, smiling at him, and he smiled back. "My sweet girl!" I whispered when his eyes looked just right, and I felt just right, and it all felt just right, the two of us felt clasped intimately by each other in full sight of each other. Then I closed my eyes and thrust my pussy all the way down on him.
There wasn't much left to go on that prick, but enough. I was very tight, and I'd felt him pressing on me on all sides, but then something inside me popped with a sudden sharp sensation, not really a pain, and suddenly I felt much more wet than I'd been. Blood, I decided. My virginity was gone. And, I supposed, that was the moment we could say he lost his too.
"Are you all right?" he whispered. I opened my eyes. He was looking at me, worried that my face had suddenly gone serious. I smiled.
"Yes," I said. "My darling girl. I'm just fine. Come when you can, my sweet darling girl. I won't this time. Some other time!"
He closed his eyes, and I resumed caressing his breasts. He reached for mine, and began to roll his hips. I rocked with him, and decided not to ride up and down on him. Even so, after a minute or maybe less, he reached up and pulled my body toward him, and sucked one of my breasts into his mouth as it deep as it would go, and pushed his little cock into my pussy with a single great thrust upward as far as it would go, and I felt him suddenly begin to pulse. It felt odd but delicious, better than a prick pulsing in my ass, and suddenly I felt very wet! Really slippery! He was breathing almost frantically.
When his breath steadied down, I raised myself off him and tucked a towel between us, to blot up some of the blood and semen I was leaking all over his groin. I leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. He raised his chin to meet my mouth, and kissed me. Our tongues tangled. So tenderly. There was no question here who was the dominant partner. From the way he nibbled on my mouth I knew he felt like a shy, compliant young girl who has just been fucked and feels humble and grateful. He'll be easy to break in for boys to use, I thought. Even now I bet he'll kneel down and blow any stud who has the good sense to caress those breasts of his first. I allowed Marianne another moment to grow softer in me, then slowly climbed off him.
"There you are, my girl," I said. "I've used you. Now you're a sex object. A fallen woman! We just gave each other our virginity, didn't we? So we've just used each other to become two fallen women, haven't we?"
He nodded, overwhelmed by the enormity of the gift he'd just received.
"Now you're a lesbian," I went on. "Your little clit has been inside a girl. You've been kissed and caressed by a girl. Some day you'll be kissed and caressed by a boy, and that'll feel nice too." He nodded again in his trance, eyes still shut. I bent over and kissed him on his sweet mouth. Did he understand what I'd just said? He kissed me back ever so gently, only his lips moving.
Then more briskly I said, "Now into the bathroom and clean up, sweetheart, then put your panties and shorts back on. Look at that! You didn't even take your sandals off, you were so eager to put out for me! What a slut!"
I grinned at him, and after a moment he opened his eyes and grinned back. His eyes were beautiful, with those long, dark, wet lashes, and they were gleaming. He glanced down at the pink splotches on his groin.
"JayCee, you've made me so very happy," he tried to say, and he finally got it out the third time. Then he started to cry.
"I know," I said. I felt moved too. "But hurry, my mother's due home about now." | 5 |
3,984 | The Woods | "I must say, Jonathan, I've just had such a wonderful time today!"
"Me, too," echoed Sarah. "And you're such a dear to see us home from the party."
"My pleasure, ladies. I couldn't see you riding home alone in the dark."
Claire giggled mischievously. "My sister and I just lost all track of time tonight! We were supposed to leave a couple of hours ago so we could ride home in the light. I'm afraid that Daddy's going to tan both our hides when we get home so late."
Sarah gasped at her sister's comment, and Jonathan blushed and clucked at the horse to hurry up a bit. He had tied his own horse behind the Wilson girls' carriage, and he sat between the two lovely young ladies as they glanced at each other behind his back and giggled.
"Now don't you worry about that, Claire. I'm sure your Daddy will be happy that I escorted the two of you safely home. Besides, we can take a shortcut through the woods and you'll save over an hour's time."
"Oh no!" gasped Sarah. "Those woods are HAUNTED! There's all kinds of stories about people going in there and never being seen again! I think I'd rather face my Daddy's belt than those woods."
"Oh, nonsense!" Jonathan waved his hand in dismissal. "That's a lot of hogwash. I've been in those woods before, lots of times! There's nothing to be afraid of. Besides, you've got me to protect you!"
"Well, since you put it that way..." Claire snuggled up to Jonathan.
"No, please!" continued Sarah. "I'm really afraid. I've heard some awful stories about those woods. They say there are creatures who live there who eat people that they catch. I'm scared!"
"If we go through the woods, we'll still have some daylight. It'll be fine, honest. It'll be much safer than riding home the long way in the dark."
"Well, maybe... but I'm still afraid."
Jonathan put his arm around Sarah and squeezed her shoulder. Both women huddled against him, and he almost shivered himself, though not from fear. Their softness and the smell of their perfume made his hands tremble, and he shook the reins to hide his shakiness.
Claire and Sarah Wilson were two of the prettiest young women around. All the other guys would have given anything to be in Jonathan's place right now.
Claire was the older of the two. She was nineteen. Her sister Sarah was a year younger and a lot more reserved. Claire was a bit on the wild side. Many a young man would have liked to rope her in, but she seemed to enjoy being single, even if it meant living with her parents and her sister. This wild streak caused her to look forward to the excitement of riding through the haunted woods with Jonathan. This would give her an excuse to cuddle up and squeeze him, all innocently of course! She knew the effect she had on men, and she loved teasing them just a bit. She giggled and gripped his arm tighter as the carriage turned and headed off the road and into the woods.
The three of them rode on in silence as the sun cast long shadows about them. Claire and Sarah moved even closer to Jonathan, who took every opportunity to squeeze the frightened girls and whisper encouraging comments.
Claire began talking about the party they had just attended and giggled as she talked about some of the dances she had had. She was trying to cheer her sister up, but Sarah was obviously still frightened. Jonathan seemed a little jealous when Claire mentioned some of the other young men, but she smiled at him, and his ears turned red from embarrassment.
They had been travelling through the woods for about fifteen minutes when it finally dawned on them that it was VERY quiet. More quiet than it should be. There were no animal noises. No birds. It was, in a word, spooky. The sun was close to setting, and the eerie silence about them was broken only by the sounds of their own horses and carriage.
Suddenly the carriage horse reared up and whinnied, frightened.
"Easy there.... easy...." Jonathan tried calming the animal, but it continued rearing and whinnying.
"What's going on, Jonathan? Why did he stop?" Claire gripped his arm tighter. Sarah's hands were shaking. The carriage had come to a stop, and the women were trembling in fear as Jonathan continued trying to calm the skittish horse. All of a sudden, Jonathan's horse, which had been tied to the rear of the carriage, broke free and galloped off into the woods.
"Ginger! Come back!" Jonathan called out after her, but she galloped away as if someone were chasing her.
"Damn!" Jonathan cursed. "I hope she makes it home okay."
As the three of them were watching Ginger gallop off, the carriage horse broke free of its harness, reared up, and ran off ahead of them.
"Star! Come back here!" Claire and Sarah both yelled out. Jonathan jumped out of the carriage and ran after the swiftly disappearing horse, but it was no use. He walked back towards the carriage and the women who were huddling together on the seat. Jonathan looked at the leather harness lying on the ground, then picked it up.
"My God!" he whispered. "This has been cut! How in the world..."
Just then, he caught some movement under the carriage. A small, grotesque form crawled out and stood up, grinning at him. At least, it looked like some kind of a savage grin. It stood only about three feet tall, and its mouth was filled with pointed teeth, which made it look like it was grimacing. Its ears were slightly pointed, and its eyes, which were red as hot coals, glared menacingly at him.
Jonathan heard the women scream and point behind him. He also heard a slight sound, but before he could turn around, he felt a sharp pain in his head, and he blacked out...
When he came to, his hands were tied behind his back, and he was sitting on the ground with his back to a tree. He had only been out a couple of minutes, but all hell had broken loose in that short time.
Sarah and Claire were besieged by dozens of grotesque creatures just like the one Jonathan had seen. They were all about three feet tall and hideous. They appeared to be enormously strong for their size and easily overpowered the shrieking women. The creatures were naked, and their skin was covered with a kind of scaly hide. They looked all out of proportion. Their ears were large and pointed, and their faces chiseled. They looked like something out of a hellish nightmare. Their penises were nearly the size of a normal man's, and all were erect. It added an almost comical touch to see them walking about with these huge erect organs, but the raw evil in their faces was enough to make Jonathan gasp and tremble.
"Sooooooo... he waaaaketh. Good. Let him watch..."
The voice Jonathan heard was part hiss, part low growl. He watched helplessly as the creatures swarmed all over Sarah and Claire, ripping their clothes away. They laughed and grunted as they tore the women's clothes into shreds. Sarah was sobbing as they grabbed her nude body and dragged her back against a tree. They put her on her knees and tied her hands and feet behind the tree. Her bare breasts shook as she cried for help. She called Jonathan's name over and over, but there wasn't anything he could do to save her. When Sarah was secure, they turned their attention back to the squirming nude body of her sister.
Several of the creatures were holding her limbs tight as her torso struggled. It was useless, they were far stronger than her, and they now numbered in the dozens.
Claire was crouched naked on all fours. Four of the creatures held her arms and legs tightly while the others were all over her, pulling at her dangling tits and grabbing clumpfuls of her white ass.
"We eat welllll... Yum..." The goblin-like creatures poked her all over. Claire was screaming as they tugged on her soft cunt-hair and began slapping her wildly thrashing ass. Two of them grabbed her asscheeks and pulled them wide apart, their fingers digging in as they stretched her open. Another goblin walked up and, standing, he thrust his penis into her gaping asshole. They all laughed, and the two holding her asscheeks took turns tugging on her cunt as their companion fucked away furiously. When he was through, he withdrew his penis from her, then, in a sickening display, he crouched down and began licking her ass crease from bottom to top. His long pointed tongue paid particular attention to the rosebud he had just occupied.
By this time, there was a line of at least a dozen creatures waiting for their turn at her. One by one, they fucked her ass while their companions held her open and rubbed her cunt.Each one repeated the filthy deed of licking her when he was through. There were roars of laughter from the goblins as she involuntarily squirmed and wiggled.
The others were all over the rest of her torso, grabbing and licking flesh wherever they could find it. "Yummm! It's good!" A couple of the creatures stayed by the tree with Sarah, pulling mischievously on her helpless nipples as they watched their companions climbing all over Claire.
While this was going on, a few of the goblins had been busy gathering wood and small dead branches for kindling. They dug a pit and filled it with coals, then piled the kindling around them. Above the pit, they erected a large spit. When Claire saw the spit, she began screaming in panic, but the goblins just continued plugging her helpless ass.
By this time, the sun was starting to set. The goblins had been at Claire's ass for over an hour. They couldn't seem to get satisfied, no matter how many times they had her. Finally, the leader gave a signal, and the raping stopped.
The goblin leader looked at the coals, which were beginning to turn white, then scurried over till he stood next to the trembling nude body of Claire. Her teeth were chattering, and there was a huge puddle of her own sticky goo on the ground between her legs. He reached out a gnarled finger and poked at her a couple of times.
"Mmmm... Yummm... it's good!" He walked behind her and happily grabbed handfuls of her white ass, grunting in approval.
"Must be more tender!" He slapped her ass quite hard, causing Claire to jump, and the other creatures to snarl happily.
"More tender! <SLAP!> More tender! <SLAP!>" He continued slapping at her ass while the other creatures gathered around her once more. They slapped at her wherever they could, concentrating on her meaty ass cheeks. Dozens and dozens of scaly little hands spanked her as she was held pinned on all fours.
"Leave her alone!" Jonathan struggled against his bonds. Sarah looked on in wide-eyed horror at what they were doing to her sister. The leader walked over to Jonathan and leered at him.
"Keep quiet!" he spat. "Your turn will be next. We'll make you REAL tender... hahaha!"
Jonathan gulped and didn't say a word. He watched the spanking continue while two of the goblins took a pole and laid it on the ground near the besieged young woman. Several of the goblins brought out ropes. They bound her hands behind her and laid her on her back. They then bent each one of her knees back to her chest and used a rope to secure each shin to a thigh. With her lying on her back with her knees bent back and spread wide, she was completely helpless as they prepared her for the spit. Many a young man would have given all he owned for a glimpse of Claire's ripe young body spread like that. Her cunt and ass were wide open and ready to be stuffed. Several other goblins appeared with handfuls of what looked like chopped walnuts and raisins. As they stuffed her cunt and asshole full, other goblins used their knives to cut Claire's long blonde hair close to her scalp. Still others grunted and laughed and clustered about her to happily pluck each golden hair off her pussy while she squirmed and gasped.
By the time they were through, Claire looked like a delicious young chicken, ready for the roasting spit! She was sobbing hysterically as they slipped the spit underneath her and tied it securely beneath her in several places. Each of her bent knees had a rope tied to it which ran tightly around her to her hands behind the pole. This kept her knees spread wide and her bent legs pulled up and back. She was spread as wide open as she could possibly be and secured that way on the spit. Her ass was pointing slightly up, and her anus and pussy could be seen stretched wide with stuffing poking out of them. Another laughing goblin took a pot from the edge of the coals. He had been heating fat in it. It was very warm, though not quite burning, and he used a brush to baste her all over with the warm fat. Sobbing and pleading pitifully, Claire was hoisted up, and the spit set in place over the hot coals. She felt the heat immediately. It was like lying directly in the sun on a very warm day.
"... it not so fast!" The goblin leader said to Jonathan, who was watching the proceedings with shock and horror. His eyes were glued on the nude trussed body of Claire turning slowly on the spit, but he managed to hear the goblin next to him gloat:
"This take long time! Long time! Fire low and spit high. She roast all night, VERY slowly! She beg for very long time. Great fun for goblins!"
Claire was crying hysterically as she hung there from the spit. She felt the heat on her exposed pussy and nipples as she swung down, then on her ass and back as the spit rotated her up. She begged Sarah and Jonathan to save her, but there was nothing either of them could do but watch helplessly as she was slowly twirled over the coals. One of the goblins positioned himself by one end of the spit, and each time Claire's ass was presented to him, he slapped it and yelled "More tender!" Another goblin had a brush on a stick, and he occasionally basted the girl with more fat as she revolved. Night had fallen, and the scene was lit by torches stuck in the ground. The goblins danced and carried on. The sound of their festivities was punctuated by the loud crack on Claire's upturned ass as she was spanked each revolution. Her hysterical pleadings amused the goblins as she was very slowly roasted.
The night wore on. An hour later, Claire's white skin had turned as red as a bad sunburn. A few blisters had appeared on her breasts which hung down closest to the coals. She was still sobbing, and a new goblin had taken over the spanking duties. The warm fat mixed with her own sweat and began dripping off her body. It collected on her nipples, and as it dropped onto the coals, it hissed and sent searing steam up at her exposed flesh. She passed out a couple of times, but the goblins held something under her nose to wake her up. They were clearly enjoying this and wanted to drag it out as long as possible.
At this time, the head goblin trotted over to Jonathan, who was still tied up under a tree.
"She cook all night... your turn next! Get him ready!"
Jonathan struggled helplessly as other goblins grabbed at him. His hands were tied tightly behind his back, and the goblins used knives to cut all of his clothing away. Lying on his back, he tried kicking out at them, but the goblins grabbed his feet, then bent his knees back against his chest and tied them there. They spread him wide and ran ropes from his knees around his back so that in short order, he was tied exactly as Claire had been. His ass and genitals were lifted up and openly presented. He was dragged closer to Claire so he could lay there and watch her turning.
One of the few female goblins crouched in front of him and began massaging his shriveled penis to erection. She laughed and snarled as she saw it grow in her claw-like hands. When he was fully erect, she took a small branch and began lightly rubbing it back and forth along the underside of his shaft to keep it hard. She hefted his balls in one hand and hissed:
"Yesssss.... we want these full. These are besssst part of a man! Veeery Tasty! Must be full and big for roasting! Hahahah!"
As she held his balls and massaged his penis, the goblins began digging another pit next to Claire's and filling it with coals.
"No! Please!" Jonathan cried.
"Quiet him!" the goblin leader snarled. "We can't hear the pretty young female moan!"
A goblin grabbed an apple and unceremoniously stuffed it into Jonathan's mouth. He then used a strip of torn clothing around his head to tie it in place. The female goblin began smacking his ass now and laughing out "More tender! <SLAP!> Hahahah! More tender! <SLAP!>"
She stuffed his anus with chopped nuts and raisins and backed away as the goblins tied him to the spit and hoisted him over his own coals exactly as they had done with Claire. As he hung there, he could look over and watch Claire turning next to him. The coals under him had not had a chance to turn white yet, and the heat was not so intense. He'd be cooking for a much longer time than Claire...
Just as they had done with Claire, a goblin positioned himself at the end of the spit and began slapping his upturned ass on each revolution while another basted him with warm fat. His cock was still rock hard, and the little female goblin stood by and brushed it occasionally with her branch to keep it that way. His balls hung low and full as he swung down. He'd be feeling the heat there first, and also on his widely spread ass.
The two unfortunates twirled side by side, stripped, trussed, and spanked as they roasted. Jonathan cried silently due to his gag while Claire was moaning for the goblins' enjoyment.
Sarah watched all this in complete horror. She couldn't help but be fascinated by the lusty sight of Jonathan stripped and spread before her, but the knowledge of what was actually happening to him and her sister was horrifying. She tried to turn away, but the goblins attending her made her watch while they laughed and fondled her.
The head goblin leered at Sarah and nodded his head in the direction of the pits.
"Soooo, they look delicious, no? We haven't had humans in a long time. They don't come here often. Those two will roast all night..." He licked his lips as he watched them turning.
Sarah cried, and a goblin held her head to make sure she wouldn't look away.
"Not for you tonight! No! Those two are plenty for a while. We save you for our feast next week. Prepare her!"
Sarah screamed as two goblins wheeled up what looked like a small dolly. Basically, it was a low platform on wheels that was pulled forward by ropes. They unfastened her from the tree and laid her on her back on the dolly.She was completely naked, and they lifted her feet up in the air and bent her knees back to her chest. They tied each of her hands to its corresponding foot and then ran ropes down to the sides of the dolly to spread her legs wide open. They fastened the ropes near the head of the dolly so that her ass was lifted up off the wooden platform and spread wide.
"Good! Take her to the cave. Yes, my sweet! Take a look at your friends. Next week is the Moon festival. Then you will be our feast! You will be tied to a spit like your friends and slowly roasted all night in our cave. The young ones will turn you until you are done. You are very tender... yes, but we will make you MORE tender!"
He slapped her upturned ass hard and motioned for the other goblins to take her away. Two of them picked up ropes and began slowly wheeling her deeper into the woods. One goblin perched himself right on the dolly between her widely parted thighs and grinned as he inserted a bony finger into her anus and licked at her horribly exposed pussy. Occasionally he would remove his finger and slap her ass, yelling "More tender!" while the other two grunted and pulled. Sarah couldn't help but buck and squirm. The goblin had found her spot and he knew it! Like a mischievous child, the goblin grinned and kept at her, laughing as she moaned and twisted.
As she was wheeled away, she managed to get one last glimpse of Claire and Jonathan. They both were trussed up like chickens with their legs pulled up and back. She could hear the slaps on their asses and the laughing of the goblins as they slowly revolved over the coals. That would be her in a week! Until then, they would enjoy tormenting her in their cave. The way they had her tied, she knew they'd be at her ass and cunt the whole time, laughing as she moaned and twisted in her ropes.
Was there any hope? The horses would probably be back at their respective homes by now. Would there be a search party looking for them? Even if they were in time to save Claire and Jonathan, they'd never find her in the caves! As she squirmed under the tormenting finger, she knew already that they'd never be found. Nobody would think to look in the woods. Nobody ever went in the woods...
THE END | 6 |
3,991 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Twelve | "That should teach you to have better manners and more respect for the fairer sex. I thought my husband warned you, I can't abide bad manners."
Seven, eight, nine, ten.
He was in agony.
She pushed him off her lap, and he landed on the floor. Instantly, his hands went to his burning buttocks. He was red in the face, and his eyes were watering. He looked like a scolded child.
"Now I want to hear an apology!" she said as she placed the hairbrush on the dining table. Within easy reach, he noticed.
He looked at her still exposed legs, then at the floor. He could not believe he was still lusting after her. Not after what she had just done to him. But he was.
"I am very sorry for my behavior," he said.
The fact that it was all Alice's fault, he did not think would go down too well at this particular moment. Especially as Alice had been giggling at him throughout his ordeal. He would just have to try and keep out of her way. Or maybe he would just be sent away. He felt that was the most likely outcome.
A patent leather stiletto heel dug into his genitalia.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry, I really am. Please forgive me."
But it ground in harder. What did he have to say to make her stop? Then he realized. How stupid to forget.
"I am very sorry, Madam."
Lisa removed her foot, and Jack breathed the biggest sigh of relief of his entire life.
"Get up, you pathetic excuse for a man," Lisa sneered.
Jack stood up and started to pull his pants up.
"I think it would be better if I left now. I wouldn't want to offend you any further," he said.
"Nonsense, Jack, I would not think of letting you go so soon. I still have to punish you for wanking in my bathroom."
That did it. He bent down and tried to raise his pants. Clutching them at half-mast, he headed for the door as fast as he could. He knew he looked totally ridiculous.
"Where are you going, Jack?" Lisa inquired, "not outside, I hope. The dogs won't like it."
Jack's shoulders slumped. He was at her mercy.
"That's more like it. Now, why don't you just take all your clothes off! You won't be needing them for the rest of this weekend."
Jack let his trousers fall back around his ankles and gave her a look of silent pleading. Lisa's face was totally impassive and unyielding. So, clinging to the grain of hope in her last words, he reluctantly obeyed. If he could survive the weekend, maybe she would let him go on Monday, and maybe, just maybe, he might still get his promotion.
When he was completely naked, she told Alice to put his clothes with the rest of his things. Then she turned to Jack and said,
"Come along, follow me. You will be spending the night in my room, I have a place all ready for you." And when she received no response from the dumbfounded Jack, she clasped his prick ever so gently in her hand and continued, "Well, aren't you going to thank me?" | 4 |
3,994 | Deja Vu | "Oh grandmother, I still can't believe it!" The young blonde-haired woman exclaimed as she gushed with excitement. "Two days from now I'm going to be in Europe."
"Well, it's nothing that you don't deserve." The older woman smiled back. "I'm very proud of you, and all that you've accomplished."
"I don't think Mother would agree with you on that." Jenny D'Angelo replied. "She thinks the entire trip is a colossal waste of money."
"Your mother thinks everything is a waste of money." Connie D'Angelo laughed. "And besides, it's my money that's paying for this trip, so she doesn't have anything to complain about."
With that, Jenny joined in the laughter. She knew she really shouldn't be enjoying a joke at her mother's expense, but she couldn't help it. In many ways, Connie had always been closer to her than her mother. Despite the 38 years separating them, they were more like girlfriends than family.
The trip to Europe had been Connie's idea. She had been so impressed when Jenny graduated from high school a year early and then gained acceptance to an Ivy League college.
In addition to covering all the expenses for three months on the continent, Connie was also buying Jenny a new wardrobe for the trip. Between the two of them, they had two shopping bags full. The rest of what they had bought would be delivered to Connie's tomorrow. Knowing her daughter-in-law would have something to say about all the new clothes, Connie had wisely put her own address on the deliveries.
"It's still early, what say we head over to Kou-feng's for lunch." Connie suggested.
"Great." Jenny responded. "But only if you let me treat you this time."
"All right." was the reply.
An hour and a half later, the two women had lunch behind them and were headed down Main Street. Along the way, both women turned men's heads. An action that they both took so much for granted that neither gave it much thought.
Jenny was 5'5", with long blonde hair that ran to the midpoint of her back. Deeply tanned, she wore a pretty yellow blouse and a short blue skirt. A firm set of breasts pressed against the yellow material, highlighting a youthful, athletic figure. She had been on the gymnastics team in school, and all the hours spent practicing were self-evident.
Standing a few inches taller than her granddaughter, Connie long ago gave up trying to keep a slim figure. Instead, she had concentrated on keeping her body firm and hard. Extra pounds she may have gained over the years, but very little of it was fat. She worked out as much as she could, maintaining a form that most women her age could only envy. Blessed with a more than full-figured bust when still in her teens, she couldn't defy the long-term effects of the laws of gravity. But no one said that she had to submit to them without a fight. What gray that dared appeared in her hair was banished by frequent trips to her hairdressers.
Connie wanted to put as much as she could into this last day she would spend with her beloved granddaughter. She was really going to miss Jenny, but glad she was able to give her the opportunity to travel. She had considered going along with her, but eventually rejected the idea. Better Jenny go with the other girls from her school. It would be a better experience letting her be on her own.
It had taken all her authority as the matriarch of the D'Angelo family to get Jenny's parents to agree to the trip. Stephen, her son, had been more than willing to let Jenny go. He had a great deal of faith in his daughter and knew that he could trust her accordingly.
Stephen's wife Barbara, on the other hand, had been opposed to the trip from day one. It was a waste of money, she'd said. A young girl couldn't be trusted out on her own. Why, when she was her age...
Connie remembered all too well what Barbara, or Babs as she liked to be called then, was like at that age. She was a simple-minded blonde airhead that more than lived up to the stereotype. She was, Connie believed, her son's one great mistake in his life. Try as she could, Connie had been unable to keep him from being swayed by a pretty face and a big set of boobs. Nothing that could have come out of her mouth was going to carry more weight than the things Babs was doing with hers.
So she had reluctantly watched when they married at 19. A year later, she could almost forgive Babs for marrying her son when she gave birth to Jenny. It turned out that Babs, now calling herself Barbara once again, couldn't find the time among all her social activities to give Jenny all the attention she deserved. Over the last 17 years, Connie had been more than happy to fill the void.
"I've copied down all the places you told me to see." Jenny said as they crossed the intersection. "Sometimes I wish you were going with me."
"We've already gone over that." Connie said as she stepped onto the curb. "You'll have a much better time with your friends." She added, wondering if she really believed that.
"Maybe, but I wish......"
"Hey Jenny, Jenny D'Angelo!" Said a strong masculine voice from the right of the two women.
Jenny turned around and saw the tall, dark-haired young man who had called her. He stood about 6'1" and had short, curly black hair. The muscles of his chest and arms were highly defined, and it was obvious that he took exercise seriously. The blue T-shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin. Legs as well developed as his arms stretched out from a pair of red shorts.
"Hi Jenny." He repeated.
"Jack!" The girl exclaimed as she jumped forward and gave him a sisterly hug. "When did you get back?"
"Last week, I'm staying at my mom's." Jack answered.
"It's so good to see you again." Jenny continued, her eyes never leaving his face.
"You too," He replied. "I heard how you graduated a year early. I knew you could do it."
"Thanks." Jenny beamed. "So what are you doing now."
"Football scholarship at State." Jack answered. "But I still need to work during the summer to cover some of the extras." He added as he handed her one of the flyers he had been passing out.
A quiet cough from behind Jenny reminded her of her grandmother's presence. Slightly red at her oversight, she turned and introduced her.
"Grandmother, this is Jack Marziatto." She said. "Jack, this is my grandmother, Connie D'Angelo.
Jenny continued turning back to Jack.
"Jack and I both went to school together, he graduated last year." She continued.
"That's something that your granddaughter deserves most of the credit for." Jack interjected. "If not for her tutoring, I'd have been in the fifth year of high school instead of the freshman year at State.
"You passed the exams." Jenny laughed. "I just helped you study."
"Marziatto, I used to know a Marziatto family a long time ago." Connie said as she looked at the young man's face, a strange look on her own. "They lived over on 10th Street."
"That would've been my grandparents." Jack answered. "They moved over to Bakersville in the early sixties. My parents moved back here about ten years ago when I was 9."
"Come to think of it, I only remember the Marziatto's having four daughters." Connie remarked. "How could you have the same last name?"
"Well, that's a little piece of the family skeleton." Jack replied, the humor in his voice showing that he had no problem dismissing the long-ago scandal as anything but ancient history. "Grandma got divorced after being married about five years. It was such a messy divorce that she had both her son's names legally changed to Marziatto."
"And your grandfather was?" Connie asked, a look of anticipation on her face.
"Johnny Coravelli." He replied. "Why, did you know him too?"
Connie's face now went pale as all the blood seemed to drain from it. She felt dizzy for a second and had to take a moment to compose herself.
"Grandmother!" Jenny called out as she saw her stagger for a moment.
"I'm OK," She lied. "Just felt dizzy for a moment. Getting old can be a real bitch at times." She added with a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Jack." She said as she took a deep breath and regained control of herself."You were saying?"
"His name was Johnny Coravelli," he repeated. "In fact, I was named for him. My dad didn't share Grandma's aversion to his memory. Did you know him?"
"I'm sorry, but the name doesn't ring a bell," the older woman said. "It was a very long time ago, after all."
"I guess so," Jack said. "I'm sure if you'd known him, you'd remember. He was a musician. My dad told me he was quite a character, always getting into some kind of trouble or another. I met him a few times a couple of years ago, and that really set off Grandma. I can still hear her going on about what a good-for-nothing he was. Then, when he got me a tattoo for my 16th birthday, she really went through the roof."
"He got you a tattoo?" Jenny gasped.
"Just a little one," Jack said as he pushed up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing a small blue shark on his upper biceps. "He had one just like it."
"He must've been quite a character indeed," Connie remarked as she stared at the tattoo, trying to sound dispassionate.
"That he was. It's a pity he passed away last year. He was only 57. The doctor said it was too many years of abusing his body with one thing or another."
"Well, it's good to see that you don't take after him in that respect," Connie noted, taking another long, good look at the young man.
"No, I try to take care of myself," he answered. "But that's way too much about me. What about you, what have you been doing?"
Connie didn't seem to hear as Jenny told Jack all about her impending trip to Europe and how she would be going away to college in the fall. The older woman's attention was riveted on the muscular young man. She seemed to be studying every feature of his face, something she hadn't done in a long, long time.
"I guess I've kept you much too long," Jack finally said.
With that, Connie finally snapped back to her surroundings.
"You must have a lot of things to do before your trip, and I've got to get back to handing these things out," he concluded as he indicated the pile of flyers in his hand.
Connie took one of the flyers and glanced at it. It was an advertisement for a small group of college boys, calling themselves "Jocks Inc.," who hired themselves out to do odd jobs over the summer. She recognized the masthead; she had hired two of them last year to paint the guest house. It was a good way for them to raise money for school.
With a smile and a wave, Jenny said goodbye.
Soon they reached the parking lot where they had left Connie's car. After storing the bags in the trunk, Connie slid behind the wheel. No sooner had they pulled out into traffic when Connie turned to her granddaughter.
"A really nice young man," she remarked. "Very good-looking too. Are you sure all you did was tutor him?"
"Well...we did go out a few times," Jenny admitted. "But nothing really came of it."
"Did you sleep with him?" Connie asked nonchalantly.
"Grandmother!" Jenny shot back in a mixture of mock anger and surprise.
It wasn't that Connie had asked if she had sexual relations that surprised Jenny. It was that she had asked about if she had done it with someone specific. Something she had never done before.
After all, it had been Connie that she had come to last year when she had decided that she was old enough to make that decision on her own. Knowing that Barbara's attitude on the subject was, "Well, if she's going to do it, what can I do about it," Connie again took her mother's place.
She'd sat Jenny down and explained to her the pros and cons of being sexually active. Of how she thought she had all the answers when she was Jenny's age, when in reality she had been very ignorant. It didn't take a mathematical genius to figure out that Jenny's father had been born six months after the wedding. That said, she had made an appointment for her at one of the best gynecologists in town and had the doctor help her choose the best form of birth control for her.
"Oh, Jack and I made out all right," she finally replied, enjoying the ease with which she could talk to her grandmother about anything. "But in the end, we decided that sleeping together wouldn't be the right thing to do. I'm really not looking for just a good fuck, I want there to be something more between us. Jack was enough of a friend to understand that. I mean, I'm sure the sex would've been great. But I want to be able to have something else afterwards. Jack's the complete opposite. He just wants to have a little fun, and not have to worry too much about tomorrow. Once we got that worked out, we became great friends."
"I see," was Connie's only reply.
It had only been a week since Jenny had left for London, and already Connie missed her terribly. She had talked to her on the phone a few hours ago and was overjoyed to know that she was having a great time. Yet no sooner had the receiver dropped back on the cradle when she was again filled with an emptiness.
"I should have never given up control of the restaurants," Connie said out loud to herself as she turned off the television. "At least that would've given me something to occupy my time."
Five years before, on her fiftieth birthday, Connie had turned over the control of the three D'Angelo restaurants to her children. In addition to Stephen, she had a second son named Peter who was now 35. Her daughter Angela had just turned 31.
Aside from Jenny's mother, Connie was more than pleased with her children's marriages. Each of her children had been given a share in their own restaurant as well as operational control. Connie, of course, retained majority control of D'Angelo Enterprises. Hers was still the final word. She owed that much to her late husband. Vinnie had literally worked himself to death, suffering a fatal heart attack when he was only 46. It was his dream to see the single family restaurant that he'd inherited from his own father grow into a chain. Connie had made sure that dream had come true.
It was her distrust of Barbara that caused her to hold her shares. Deep down, she believed that her daughter-in-law didn't have the desire for hard work that running the restaurants required. If she had any real control, she would quickly be pushing the others to sell out for a fast buck. Peter and Angela understood that. When Connie died, her shares would skip a generation and be split between the 7 grandchildren. She had arranged for trust funds for all of them. Each would get their full shares on their 21st birthday.
Connie loved all her grandchildren, but it was always Jenny that occupied a special place in her heart. She was more like a daughter than a granddaughter, a reflection of what Connie was like when she was that young.
"When I was that young," Connie repeated to herself. "When I was that young, I definitely wasn't sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself."
With that, she rose from the chair and went looking for her address book. What she needed was a little companionship. Maybe even a little roll in the sack. Connie had hardly been celibate in the dozen years of her widowhood. She'd been actively pursued by a number of men, even taken a few as lovers. But most lost interest when they finally discovered that if marriage was a possibility, any control of D'Angelo's wasn't.
Twice in the last ten years, she'd even had one-night stands with younger men, both times with the summer help that she hired to fill in for her waiters when they went on vacation. The young men never stood long, and no one ever knew. It gave her an ego boost to know she could still satisfy a younger man.
In fact, during her first year of widowhood, Connie had even had a brief lesbian fling with Maria Fortunato, one of her neighbors. It was Maria who had initiated the affair, and Connie had been curious enough to let it develop. Most people thought it was so nice for Maria, a widow in her own right, to spend so much time with Connie during that difficult first year. No one ever suspected what was really going on. When the traditional mourning period finally ended, the men began to call once again, and the affair faded of its own accord. It had been an interesting experience, to say the least, and had helped fill a temporary void in her life.
Connie made a few calls, but had no luck. It was already Friday night, and most of the men she knew had already made plans for the weekend. Those that she knew would be available were available for good reason, and she wasn't that desperate.
Putting the book back down, Connie picked up the light blue advertisement sitting next to it on her desk. It was the flyer she had been given by Jenny's friend. She remembered that she had called them the other day to hire one of the boys to work on her patio deck this weekend. Bill Ross or something like that, was the boy they had told her would be coming. Just as well she stood home tonight.
"Maybe I should have just asked them to send me over a young stud," Connie laughed to herself.
Her laugh filled the room for a few seconds, then silence returned. The house once again seemed very empty.
"You are definitely getting to be a horny old lady, Connie D'Angelo," Connie thought as she dropped the sheet onto the table.
Late that night, long after dinner, Connie found herself unable to sleep. Uneasy with the whole idea of sleeping pills, she instead poured herself a glass of wine. Still, sleep would not come. By the time she was on her second glass, she decided to do a little of that cleaning out of the basement storage she had been doing on and off for the last two months.
Connie carried a box of mementos up from the basement. She hadn't looked at this old junk in almost 30 years. Yet lately, she had begun to feel nostalgic.Sipping her drink, she was surprised that most of it was in such good condition. She had Vinnie to thank for that. He figured that these things would mean something to her someday and had been very careful in packing them away. They were the memories of a young girl named Connie Esposito, and of a time and place far away.
Shifting through the layers of the past, the dark-haired woman found a stack of old 45s. Removing the plastic wrap around them, she smiled as she read off the labels: Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, Buddy Holly, Little Anthony and the Imperials, The Monotones, Fats Domino, and of course, Elvis.
A bright smile on her lips, Connie thought of those long-ago days when she and her girlfriends had visions of passion listening to such hits as "Peggy Sue," "Book of Love," "Blueberry Hill," and "Why Do Fools Fall in Love?"
"I haven't heard some of these in years," she said out loud. "I wonder if they are still good?"
As she placed one of the small records on the entertainment center's turntable, Connie wondered what her grandchildren and their MTV-oriented friends would think of this music? Placing the needle on the first groove, she concluded that they would no doubt view them in much the same way she had viewed her parents' big band albums - as "old fogey music!"
As the sounds of her girlhood drifted across the room, Connie went back to the storage container. Various books were soon piled alongside the case, along with piles of snapshots.
Finally, at the bottom of the box, Connie found what she'd been searching for. Remarkably preserved, it was a framed color 11 x 14 photograph. In it were four young men in blue jackets. It was obvious that they were musicians from the instruments they carried. Standing next to and in front of the quartet were three young girls. The dark blue lettering on the drumhead read "Johnny and the Bluecoats."
Focusing on each individual band member, Connie finally stopped at the tall, dark-haired lad on the far right. He was obviously the leader; you could tell that just from his bearing in the photo. His name... was Johnny Coravelli. And except for his greased-back hair, he could've almost been his grandson's twin.
"Johnny, Johnny," Connie said to herself with a wide smile. "You always were a hunk."
Dropping back into her heavily cushioned chair, Connie reverently ran her fingers across the bottom of the wooden frame. One by one, the names of the other band members filtered through her mind: Vito Rossini, Dominic Laruso, and Danny Giordano. They were on the way up in those days, the early days of Rock 'n' Roll. All they had needed was one lucky break. And for a while, it looked like they might just get it.
Along with the guys were her two best girlfriends in the whole world: Tina Marie Cerani and Jill Barusso. The third girl in the photo, the one hanging on to Johnny, was of course as familiar as the closest mirror. Free of the lines of age and full of youthful exuberance, the face was her own.
Connie chuckled as she looked at her younger self. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, a tight blue sweater, and a poodle skirt. That outfit used to cause her mother to cross herself every time she saw her in it.
Preoccupied with the photo, Connie didn't notice the record had finished. Her thoughts were no longer here in this room. Closing her eyes, Connie could hear the magical music of the Bluecoats. She could see the crowds and feel the excitement of being there on the verge of success. Most of all, she remembered how wonderful it felt to have everyone know she was Johnny's girl.
Her mind began to drift further and further away as her need for sleep and the wine took her back to days long gone. To one special night in particular.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Oh, Johnny," the young 16-year-old moaned as she felt the boy's hand slip under her blouse and cup her naked breast.
"Oh, baby," Johnny replied as he ran his fingers across Connie's nipples. "You feel so nice."
With practiced skill, the dark-haired 19-year-old undid the buttons of the young girl's blouse. She could feel the excitement in his voice. She knew tonight would be the night. Tonight she would become a woman.
"Oh God, Connie!" Johnny exclaimed as he undid the last button and her blouse fell away. Seconds later, her bright white bra had followed the blouse to the floor.
Much to the envy of most of the girls in her class, Connie had begun developing early and had continued to develop after most of them had stopped. The result was an impressive 36C bust. She had let Johnny feel it before, but this was the first time he had been able to fully appreciate it au natural.
Johnny had been planning this night for weeks. His parents were away for the night, having gone into the city to see that new play "My Fair Lady." They had decided to stay overnight in a hotel, and he had the house to himself. It had taken a lot of sweet talk, but tonight Connie was going to let him go all the way.
"Mmmm," Johnny moaned as he kissed Connie's soft breasts.
Running his tongue across her nipples, Johnny reached down and eased his free hand under the folds of her skirt and between her legs.
Finding her panties wet brought an increased hardness to his cock, already straining against his pants. Pushing aside the moist material, Johnny slid his fingers inside her.
"Ow!" Connie cried out at the sudden painful intrusion. "Easy!"
"Relax, I know what I'm doing," Johnny said as he rubbed hard against her clit.
Connie bit down until the initial pain passed and finally began to feel good. Not as good as when she did it herself, though. A fact which confused the girl. She had always heard that it was supposed to be better when a boy did it. Yet no sooner had it begun to really feel good when Johnny abruptly stopped.
Johnny took Connie's hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. She giggled as she felt his hardness. She rubbed it a little, bringing a soft moan from Johnny. It was her way of giving her assent without actually having to say it. It was a silly thing really, but that was the code girls lived by.
Smiling, the dark-haired boy broke their embrace for a moment and undid his zipper, pulling his cock out of his pants. Then he pulled off the pants and let them drop to the floor next to the couch.
Connie looked in fascination at the now fully freed cock. It was erect and pointed up and outward as if it had a life of its own. She had seen it before, of course, but that had always been in the dim back seat of Johnny's old '52 Ford. This was the first chance she had to see one up close and in the light. It was a lot different than the ones she and her girlfriends had looked at during a sleepover at Betty Anderson's house. Betty's father was a doctor, and she had borrowed some of his medical texts. Of course, none of them had been so erect!
Sitting back down next to her, Johnny put her hand back on his cock. As she had done on so many nights, she closed her slim fingers around it and began to pump it up and down. The result on Johnny was immediate and pronounced. A look of pure satisfaction filled his face, both from the effect of Connie's pumping motion and the thought of the prize still to come.
"Ooooh, baby, that feels so nice," the singer said in his special musical voice. "You make me feel so special."
The words of encouragement caused the girl to melt and spurred her on. Doubling the speed of her hand job, she sent new sparks shooting through her boyfriend. This felt so good to Johnny that he temporarily lost sight of the night's objective.
Finally, the familiar sensation that usually accompanied the climax of his own jerk-off sessions brought him back to reality. He had to force himself to ask her to slow down. If she kept going like that, he would have shot his load in another minute or two.
Reluctantly, he guided her hand away from his still eager cock. He had to give it a few minutes to let his body settle down.
"Let's catch our breath for a minute," he said as he took the time to unbutton the rest of his own shirt and dump it on top of his pants. He never wore undershirts and was now totally nude. Connie figured she should get naked as well and began to undo the clasp of her skirt.
"No, let me do that," Johnny interrupted as he replaced her hands with his own.
As he leaned over to slide off her skirt, Connie saw for the first time the small blue shark tattooed on his upper biceps.
"Johnny, you're a Shark?" she asked in excitement.
Johnny turned and looked at the emblem on his skin as if suddenly remembering that he had it. He looked a little worried for a moment and then, seeing her reaction, smiled once again.
"Well, it was a while ago," he grinned. "But as they used to say, once you're a member, you're one to the grave."
Up until a year and a half before, The Sharks had been one of the roughest street gangs in this part of the city. It wasn't that unusual for members to either graduate to the big time, the state pen, or the city morgue. There had been a shooting involving a cop, and even the other local hoods had turned a blind eye as most of the gang members were hunted down. Knowing that Johnny had been part of that seemed to make Connie even more excited.
Feeling very flushed, Connie pulled up next to Johnny once again and cupped his balls in her hand. The fire in her eyes was plainly visible. Johnny knew this was his chance to put the stakes even higher.
"Connie, baby," he asked in his most seductive tone, "do you really love me?"
"Of course I do," she said as she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "What kind of silly question is that? Would I be here like this if I didn't?"
"Well, I was just wondering...." He said hesitantly. "Seeing as we're gonna, ... well, you know..."
Connie nodded her assent, but looked a little confused.She had already decided that tonight was going to be the night and had told him so. So what in the world was he talking about?
"What I mean is... well, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to try that other thing we talked about," he continued. "You know, the thing with the mouth...."
The words had hardly come out of Johnny's mouth when Connie jumped up off the sofa and away from him. She was clearly angry and grabbed her pile of clothes on the floor.
"Johnny Coravelli, how could you even ask me to do such a thing!" she yelled as she stepped away with her clothes now bundled up in her arms. "If that's the kind of thing you really want, then you can go looking for one of those whores down by the docks!"
Both Connie and her girlfriends had agreed that putting a man's cock in their mouth was the most disgusting thing that they had ever heard of. Something that only the nastiest prostitutes did. They'd no more consider doing it than their boyfriends would think of putting their mouth between a girl's legs. | 3 |
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 |
4,057 | 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 |
4,116 | 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 |
4,136 | 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 |
4,163 | 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 |
4,243 | 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 |
4,247 | 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 |
4,283 | 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 |
4,312 | 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 |
4,402 | 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 |
4,438 | 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 |
4,502 | 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 |
4,514 | 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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4,569 | 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 |
4,606 | 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 |
4,619 | 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 |
4,667 | 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 |
4,746 | 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 |
4,885 | 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 |
4,926 | 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 |
4,956 | 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 |
4,961 | 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 |
4,997 | 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 |
5,028 | 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 |
5,046 | "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 |
5,050 | 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 |
5,115 | 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 |
5,119 | 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 |
5,142 | The Birthday Party | "I feel so dressed up," Marie Clair said to Inga and Mrs. Hardman, who had just helped her with all the starched slips under her short ruffled white dress. She was wearing her ruffled ankle socks and 2-inch heels. Her sandy-red hair was combed into two pigtails with white ribbons to match her dress. With her sheer, white, nylon panties and bra, she felt more like a pretty 2nd grader than a 9th grader!
At first, she was disappointed that only 3 adults came to the dinner party. Her disappointment turned to relief after dinner when she saw all the beautifully wrapped presents and learned about the 'game' she would have to play to get the presents - relief that more people would not see her bare bottom. All three of the guests, along with the Hardmans and Inga, would give her 14 bare-bottom spankings for each gift, along with some "directions-following" challenges. They all told her how pretty she was and lavished kisses and good wishes on her. Marie Clair enjoyed being the center of such attention and resolved to go along with their 'games' no matter how silly they seemed.
She wasn't able to follow the instructions for the 'code game' of saying the opposite, like saying 'hard spankings' when you meant 'soft spankings,' but she was determined to try her best.
"Let's video tape Marie Clair's party tonight," Dr. Hardman suggested before they left the dining room, "OK, Marie Clair?"
"Well, ummm, OK, Dr. Hardman. Nobody will see it except for us, right?" Blushing, "Especially since you said I would have to pull down my panties for the spankings."
"Only birthday guests will see it, Dear," Mrs. Hardman replied for him. "Don't you worry. You might think it's funny later."
Then in a whisper into Marie Clair's ear, "I know you'll be getting some pretty little new panties. So don't worry about taking these off." She patted her tenderly on the bottom. "Just do whatever they say."
They all went into the living room while Inga cleared off the table. Everyone was dressed up tonight, and even Inga had on a longer skirt.
"Where are the rugs?" Marie Clair asked.
"We put the Persian rugs away for our party. We thought we were going to have more guests," answered Dr. Hardman.
"First you need to open this one, Marie Clair," said Mr. Long, as he sat in the middle of the couch with a pretty package. "Now for your 'directions following test' - Lift up your skirt, pull your panties to your knees and try to walk over here without letting them fall all the way down."
Dr. Hardman was working the camera as she shuffled over to stand in front of the couch. "Front or back first?" asked Mr. Long as he slapped his hand with a paint stirring stick. "Remember, I will spank softly on the front and really hard on the back."
"Well, then let's start on the front," giggled out the excited Marie Clair, anxious to open presents and feeling quite embarrassed with her panties down. "Should I stand here?" as she lifted her skirt higher right in front of him.
"No, lay on your back across my lap," and he pulled one of the cushions down beside him for her head and shoulders. "Let me pull your panties down to your ankles so you can get your knees farther apart. Don't let them fall off, but just keep them stretched between your ankles. That's a girl. Put your knees as far apart as you can. Each time I spank you, say, 'Thank you for the spank. Please do it a little harder, sir.' OK, Marie Clair? Now open wide!"
Dr. Hardman had stopped taping for a moment.
"OK, I'll say it, but please don't spank too hard."
"If I spank too hard, say, 'please spank me harder.' OK?"
Dr. Hardman started the tape again - just before the first front spank hit right on the open mound between her legs with a soft 'smack!' "Thank you for the spank. Please do it a little harder, Sir." The next 13 spanks were harder - so she kept asking for him to spank harder. Her body twitched with each stroke, but she continued to keep her knees wide apart while Dr. Hardman zoomed in. Mr. Long stroked her lightly between each spank, which both put her at ease and made her tingle. She was getting over her initial embarrassment, concentrating on opening her knees after each tap.
Then she sat up on his lap and began opening the first gift. When she pulled out the leather ankle and wrist cuffs, each with a metal ring, she didn't know what to think.
Mrs. Hardman presented the next gift after 14 medium-hard spanks on her bare bottom. She took the time to massage Marie Clair's burning fanny between spanks. To everyone's surprise, Marie Clair thanked her also, "Thank you for the spank. Please do it harder, Ma'am." Then Marie Clair opened the present, clutching the navy blue silk panties with no cotton liner, and a matching sheer bra which she held to her chest with an appreciative laugh and a hearty, "Thank you, Ma'am. I love these."
"Come, Sweetheart, let's go try on your gifts and hurry back down."
"No, no. It's just us. Try them on right here in the living room. Besides, we all just witnessed your bare bottom spankings," reminded Dr. Hardman. The others agreed. So while the video camera rolled, Marie Clair took off everything but her black, high-heeled party shoes and lacy ankle socks, and tried on the new dark blue panties and bra. They helped her with the ankle and wrist cuffs, while Mr. Long took a leaf out of the table, leaving a gap, and put a pillow on the edge.
"Let's play over at the table now, Marie Clair. Put your legs apart so we can tie your ankle bracelets to the table legs."
"Are you sure, Dr. Hardman?"
"It's part of the game. We'll fasten your arms to the other end and your pretty new bra will hang in the center of the table where Mr. Long took the leaf out." Dr. Hardman coaxed the somewhat reluctant Marie Clair, patting the pillow. She leaned over the pillow and they pulled her feet next to the table legs and fastened her cuffs with rope. They stretched her arms forward to make it easy for Mrs. Hardman to put the ropes through the metal rings on her wrist straps, and fasten the rope to the table legs at the other end. Mr. Long had clamped the table open wide enough so her breasts would be suspended where the table leaf had been removed. Mr. Jones put a pillow on the other side of the gap for Marie to rest her head on. Her fanny was several inches above the table top, and she had enough range of motion to wiggle it back and forth or up and back.
"These spanks will sting a little, Marie Clair, but be sure to say 'thank you' again."
"Yes, Sir," she replied without much enthusiasm.
Marie Clair resolved to answer with enthusiasm even if it did sting, because she wanted all the presents. Fourteen medium-hard spanks later - all on video - they opened her present for her. She didn't know what it was. It looked like a flashlight body made of white plastic. Mrs. Hardman twisted it, and it started making a buzzing noise. She put it up against Marie Clair's arm. It tickled. "That tickles, Mrs. Hardman, but it feels good," she commented as Mrs. Hardman walked it along her side, pausing to tickle Marie Clair's new bra while Dr. Hardman zoomed in on her face.
When Mrs. Hardman began tickling Marie Clair's new panties, he zoomed back in on her face. "Oh, that really tickles, Mrs. Hardman. Umm," as she began squirming. "Oh, Mrs. Hardman. What is that thing? It tickles."
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No, not yet," she answered quickly, which made the adults laugh. They noted she was beginning to squirm around while getting tickled.
"We'll tickle you with this some more after you get your next two presents," She promised the girl. Then to her husband, "What time is it? Do we need to hurry?"
"Yes, we'd better give her the next two presents right now. Let me open these for you, Marie Clair," and he began on the next one of the packages, setting down the video camera. Mr. Long and Inga helped open the other one in front of the curious Marie Clair.
"What's the rush?" Marie Clair asked them while trying to figure out what the rubber ball with the leather strap through it could be for. She knew what the blindfold was for. "Is this stuff for the game?"
"Yes, Marie. Before we play the next part of the game, we want you to say this into the camera," and he gave her the lines. "But of course, WE won't spank you any harder. OK?"She practiced once, remembering that this must be part of the 'code game,' and then said enthusiastically into the camera, getting into the spirit of the strange game, still enjoying being the center of attention of the 5 older people, and looking forward to getting 'tickled' on her panties again. "I love to get spanked and tickled - front and back. I'm going to pretend to object and struggle but it's just part of the game. I really like to get spanked. Please spank me real hard. I especially like to get spanked on my bare bottom! Maybe you could even put your fingers in me. I would like it if you did. Please spank me REAL HARD!" Then they put the gag in her mouth and blindfolded her.
As promised, Mrs. Hardman began tickling her panties with the white plastic thing. It felt so good that she began to squirm around whenever the buzzer pressed right between her legs, causing a wet spot to develop on the dark blue panties.
She felt vulnerable with her ankles tied to the table legs, her arms stretching her forward over the gap in the table, only wearing a sheer bra and panties, ruffled white ankle socks and her high heels, unable to speak or see, but the feeling between her legs was holding all her attention....
until she heard the doorbell.
MORE PARTY GUESTS
The older adults all left to get the door. Inga slapped Marie's extended bottom with a laugh. "Get ready for your party, Honey," pressing her panties into her with the vibrator. Then she left to greet the new guests. She heard several adults walk in talking with the Hardmans when the doorbell rang again. Marie tried to break free to no avail, her pleading cries sounded like, "Ugghh, unnff unggngh."
She began to pick up parts of conversations as the new guests entered. "Mrs. Hardman, You remember Brian, don't you? He just got his temporary driver's permit so we let him drive us over tonight. And since Nick is only 12 we didn't want to leave him home alone. Neither of the boys wanted to come to a girl's birthday party, but I told them they might enjoy it." Lots of hands were now playfully patting Marie Clair's bottom but no hard spanks yet. She could feel herself turning red - brighter than her red lipstick.
"Well, of course the boys are welcome. They can help us spank and tickle her. But first let's all watch the video we recorded earlier tonight." The room got quiet as they all watched the video on the big screen TV. "The boys will like this part where she pulls down her panties and lifts her dress. Now, boys, look how she twitches each time the little paddle hits her pussy, but you can tell she likes it, can't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am," said two young voices. "She is so pretty."
"Could I please get a copy of the video, Mrs. Hardman, asked one of the young voices?"
"Why Brian, that's a nice idea. But first I'd like to get shots of you and your brother spanking her. Wouldn't you like to be in the video, too?"
"Yes Ma'am. That would be cool! Could I show it to my friends?"
"That's up to your mother, but I suppose you could show it to your friends at your house, just don't make copies. OK?"
Marie Clair could hear herself getting spanked on the video again, and begging for harder spanks - front and back! Then she heard herself saying how she was going to pretend to object and struggle but that she really liked getting spanked and wanted the guests to put their fingers in her!
"Mrs. Hardman," asked the younger voice, "Is Aunt Sarah coming over? Maybe she could bring Billy. I know he would like to spank Marie Clair, too. And he'll be studying about girls and sex and stuff in his 6th grade health class."
"Maybe I should run home and get my kids, too," said a woman's voice, "They should learn about this."
"Splendid idea. I'll go call Sarah. Meanwhile why don't you two boys give her a few practice spanks. It's OK for you to touch her anywhere you want. Ask your mother if you can pull down her panties in a few minutes."
"Oh, it's fine with me. I think it's healthy for boys to learn what girls look and feel like. Go ahead boys." said their mother. The boys spent the next 15 minutes giving her playful spanks and feeling her legs and panties. Marie heard the door close without a doorbell sound, which told her that the woman left to get her kids. She wondered if they would be boys or girls and how old they were. Her skin turned a brighter pink - redder than her hair.
"Ungggh! Oggghh! Nnnnfgh" said Marie Clair as she fought against her bindings.
"Ungggh! Unnngh!" mimicked Brian, laughing.
"She's really pretending she wants to get away, isn't she Brian. Oh, look. How's come her panties are wet here?" asked Nick, the younger brother while he patted her fanny. "Did she pee in her panties?"
More visitors were now entering the room, including 12-year-old Billy who ran over to join his cousins.
"She really likes this, Billy," said Nick, demonstrating a hard slap on her fanny, "You want to try it?"
"Oh neat!" said Billy, "Let me practice the drums on her butt!" and started laughing as he gave her a dozen rhythmic but hard slaps. "Why are her panties so wet?"
"You boys! She's wet because she likes getting tickled with this thing. Let me show you how to use it. Watch how she wiggles when I press this up against her," said Inga. She pressed the vibrator against Marie Clair's panties "Let me pull her panties aside and put this most of the way into her. You boys watch it, and tell me when it falls all the way out." Then Inga pulled Marie Clair's panties back over the vibrator to keep it from falling right out, and pulled them up snugly - tight as a drum - trapping it in her. Whenever the vibrator started to slide out, it formed a 'tent' in the growing wet area of her dark panties.
"Unggh! Agghng!" as she tried to pull her knees together, squirming.
"Unnnngh!" mimicked the boys, laughing again and pulling the panties tighter whenever 'the tent' started to develop. It took almost 5 minutes for her to wiggle it all the way out into her panties. But that wasn't really fair because the boys 'accidentally' pushed it back in several times before it came all the way out. While the boys were thwarting Marie Clair's efforts to expel the vibrator, the door opened and Marie Clair heard two more kids enter the room, one of them running over to look at her.
"Look at her panties," said a girl's voice, "She must have peepeed in them!" followed by some giggles.
"Heather, maybe you should go watch the video with your mommy before you start saying stupid things," explained Billy to the younger girl. "It's not pee. She's excited to have us spanking and tickling her. But you're too young to know that. When big girls get excited, that gooey, wet stuff comes out."
"I'm almost as old as you, Billy, so shut up. You're only four months older than me. And remember last summer at Camp Sunshine when we saw that neither of us had pubic hair? Well I've got 5 now," she bragged. Then to Inga, "What's making that buzzing noise in her panties?"
"Ok," said Inga who had pretended not to notice that the boys kept pushing the vibrator all the way back in the birthday girl. "Look how much wetter her panties are now. We'll be pulling them off in a minute." And Inga pulled it out from inside the panties she pointed out to the curious boys how wet and slippery it was. "Feel it, Nick. Let Heather feel it. This is a slim one - about the same size as Dr. Hardman's finger," holding it up for everyone nearby to see. Several women raised their eyebrows at Inga's last remark. The vibrator was glistening with Marie's pubescent lubricant. "It's about the same diameter as two of your fingers, isn't it Nick?"
"Here, Brian, You try it. Hold it firmly and push it against her panties. Then you can try it on her bra, too, if you want to, before you pull down her panties. Oh, Hi, Robby, I didn't see you come in," said Inga.
"Oh boy, this thing tickles my hand! Here, feel this, Nick. You go first. You guys can tickle her with it. I want to go feel her bra," the boys were talking quickly and laughing, encouraged by the adults who were now giving their drink orders to Inga. The doorbell rang several times as other guests arrived.
Marie Clair heard several of the adults say things like, "Boys will be boys." "Her dark panties are wet already." "It's a great way for the kids to learn anatomy," and so forth.
"Go ahead and pull down her panties now, boys. We're going to give her some more spankings so she can earn more of her gifts."
"Ew, look. Her panties are sticking to her where they are wet," said Nick.
"It looks gooey," exclaimed Billy, getting a close look.
"Can I touch it?" asked Heather.
"Of course, Dear," answered Heather's mom. "I wanted you to see this."
"That 'gooey stuff' won't hurt anything. Girls do that when they get excited. It's how their bodies make it easy for things to slip into them," explained Mr. Long. "That's it, boys. Pull them down as far as they go with her feet fastened that far apart. Then you can take turns putting a finger into her if you want. Did you each give her 14 spankings yet?"
Dr. Hardman's deep baritone voice added, "With her legs that far apart you'll have to really stretch them. Maybe we should cut them off on one side. What do you think?" The boys were now eagerly pulling them almost to her knees, when the material ripped on one leg, so that the panties slid all the way down to her left ankle.
All the adults laughed at the sound of the ripping panties. Heather was giggling. The video was playing for the new arrivals.One of the adults suggested that the boys see how slippery the wet stuff was that was glistening around Marie Clair's totally exposed, upraised, bald pussy. A man wet his finger while showing them how to push in slowly at first to make sure there was plenty of lubrication. "She is really wet. That means she's ready for things to slip in, but first you'd better each give her the spankings," saying this just as someone turned up the volume on the TV so everybody could hear Marie begging to get spanked harder. All four of the boys and Heather had their heads close to Marie Clair's bottom, looking intently.
"Come over here a minute, kids, and watch this and you can see when she started getting wet. You can see other ways her body changed when she received some front spanks, too." They reluctantly accompanied Dr. Hardman to the TV. He rewound to the beginning of the front spanks and paused the tape. Marie Clair heard him explain, "You can see inside her pussy in this close-up shot before the spankings started. Notice she is completely dry and all the tissue is soft. It's difficult to distinguish the different parts. Watch how that changes over the course of the 14 spanks. Notice how quickly she spreads her knees apart after each spank." Everyone, including the adults, watched quietly, which made the relative volume seem even louder as Marie Clair twitched in the video with each spank and begged to get spanked harder, and thanked Mr. Long for spanking and rubbing her.
Although Marie Clair could not see the video, she heard several comments about how she seemed to get wetter with each spank. "Now here's a close-up after the last spank. Notice how wet she is and see how the little bump in front is swollen. All of her tissue appears much firmer and somewhat enlarged, doesn't it, boys? You can distinguish the separate parts. See how easily Mr. Long can slide his fingers over the erect ridge down the center. Her magic button is at the bottom end of that ridge, just where it flares out into two tiny flaps beside her hole."
"Yes, sir. You can see the difference," answered Brian for the group.
"That indicates that she really likes hard spankings. Observing those changes in her pussy may help you in your Health classes, too," he chuckled at his own humor. Several adults asked to watch that part again as Heather and the four boys went back to Marie Clair with renewed interest in female anatomy.
"You can use your hand, one of the wooden paddles, the belt, the hairbrush, this riding crop, or the cane, but don't hit too hard with the cane. Maybe you should each try a few swats with each one," said Mr. Long. "Each type of paddle makes a different mark and a different sound. Pay close attention and take your time. You'll get to finger her soon enough," then added in a quiet, fatherly voice, "And boys... and you too, Heather... remember that she kept saying that she likes really hard spankings," then he gave them a knowing wink.
A lady's voice suggested, "Billy and Nick, why don't you give her the spanks for your mothers. Then you can begin putting your fingers in her and playing with the vibrator."
Several more adults came over to watch this round of spankings. The adults intended to give their spankings later when the kids lost interest. One of them had been video taping the boys' fascination with little Marie Clair's bottom with a new tape.
"I want to try that riding thing," said Nick eagerly, as he swished it through the air.
"The paddle," said Brian. "Well, I want to try all the paddles, starting with the ping-pong paddle." SMACK! on Marie Clair's left cheek. Brian then bent closer to watch as the area reddened. "Can I spank her in the same spot each time? Or should I hit different areas?"
"Unnnngh!" Marie Clair squirmed.
"Wherever you want to, Brian," said Dr. Hardman, smiling and patting him on the head. "But, even though she likes hard spankings, only give her five hard ones out of each set of fourteen. Then she won't know when a hard one is coming."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! went Brian - all three in the same spot, laughing with the other boys at Marie Clair's noises and writing. "She really likes this, doesn't she?"
They proceeded to each give her 14 spanks with all of the different 'tools' provided, sometimes stopping to rub her fanny and check to see if she was getting wetter, even Heather checked. They had each surreptitiously slipped fingers in while rubbing between spanks, noticing the changes in Marie Clair's posture. She tried to hunch forward away from the paddles but then arched back into the probing fingers - as if trying to wiggle closer.
"Brian, let's see who can make her twitch or flinch the most," challenged Billy.
"OK. Let me try the belt next." Marie jumped in her bindings as the next two swishes of the belt stung her bottom. Brian winked at the crowd as he said aloud, "Now for a really hard one. Stand back. Zoom in close on her fanny," still grinning as he swished the belt over the top of Marie Clair's back, missing her fanny completely. Everybody laughed at Marie Clair's flinch when she heard the sound of the belt in the quiet room. They laughed some more and patted and felt her and taunted her with things like, "Bet you're sorry I missed. Let me see if she got wetter with anticipation - Yep, she did!" And more laughter as all five children investigated her pussy.
"Maybe we'd better wait before giving her the spankings for your moms," suggested one of the ladies. "Let me feel how wet she is now." Marie Clair felt a long manicured fingernail flick her button several times and then slide easily all the way into her. "Oh yes, boys. You're doing a fine job on our little birthday girl."
The boys began sliding their fingers into her pussy, commenting on how tight it felt inside. They commented on the viscosity and color of the silvery wetness. Billy and Nick almost started fighting - trying to get in first, when someone suggested they see how fast they could take turns. Marie Clair was now holding still so they would not miss the center. She even lifted her bottom higher, standing on her tippy toes and arching her back to present an easier target. Billy's finger plunged in the instant Nick's came out - over and over. Brian set the cadence by calling their names like a drill instructor.
"Mr. Long, Dr. Hardman wants you to plug this wire in the back of the video camera so everyone can get a close-up view on the large TV," and Marie Clair heard some clicking as it was plugged in.
"If she's 14, why doesn't she have any hair?" asked Billy while he was getting his fingers wet in the oozing pussy. "Oh, this feels slippery, almost greasy."
"We shaved off her little tuft so you boys could see better," answered Inga. "I shave mine, too. Can I get you kids some pop? Remember, this is a party. I'm sure our little birthday girl wants her guests to have a good time!"
"Can we look at yours, Inga?" asked one of the boys.
"I'm a servant and will do whatever you ask me to do, Brian."
"Maybe later, for comparison," interjected Dr. Hardman. "She's busy right now."
Brian stepped up close to Dr. Hardman and tilted his head away from the crowd to indicate he wanted a private word. Then he asked discreetly if he could examine Inga in more depth at a later date, explaining he had so much to learn. Dr. Hardman chuckled and said, "Of course, Brian. I'm sure Inga would be happy to take you past your 'learner's permit!' Stop by next week."
After the boys had been taking turns fingering and feeling Marie Clair, someone suggested that the two younger boys try two fingers at once. "This is really fun!" said Billy. "My fingers just slide right in."
"I want to try those 'front spanks,'" the taciturn Robby finally speaking, "OK?"
Mr. Long asked one of the other men to take over the video camera while he set up the kids so Robby could give Marie Clair some 'front spanks.' "Billy and Nick, I want each of you to put a hand on her fanny and your other hand on her thigh just above her knees. That's it. Now pull her open so Robby can hit the target."
"Hold her open a moment, boys," Dr. Hardman continued his 'lessons.' "You can see part way up her vagina when she is pulled open like that."
That comment renewed Marie Clair's attempt for some modesty so she tried to squeeze her pussy shut, but each time she tried, the pull of the boy's hands re-opened her. The kids and the crowd were quiet as they noticed that each 'squeeze-shut' effort pushed out almost a 1/2 teaspoon of her pubescent, glistening 'wetness,' which dripped out to form a small puddle on the polished wood floor between her fastened feet - all caught close-up on the video.
Robby was very timid with the first few spanks, not wanting to hurt Marie Clair and not wanting anyone to know how much he was enjoying this. With encouragement from the crowd, he gave her some harder smacks - right on her very firm little button. He paused several times to check Marie Clair's wetness, enjoying his task, but still not smiling.
Then the four boys took turns fingering her hole or feeling the different parts in front. Two of the ladies were discussing other nieces and nephews who might enjoy learning anatomy this way. "If nothing else, we could share our video with them."
Mr. Long said, "Here's another idea for you boys. Billy and Nick, pull her fanny open again. That's it. Let me show you something else. You could also put your fingers in her bottom. You have to go slow and dip several times in front to keep your finger slippery." He finally pushed his finger all the way in even though Marie Clair was squeezing as tight as she could."She's trying to squeeze shut, boys, so get your fingers really wet and push in slowly - but hard."
"Let me try it," said Brian, "I bet I can get mine in all the way the first time."
next: he does it, then ICE CREAM & CAKE... AND GAMES | 5 |
5,149 | My Weekend in Portland | "It's a strap-on dildo," I said. "I bought it this afternoon."
I took the device out of its bag and handed it to Ruth. I'd had to go to three "adult" stores before I found what I wanted. Most of the strap-ons I saw were either flimsy vinyl contraptions, or they sported dildos so huge they would severely damage any normal woman. This one came with a sturdy, comfortable harness and a pink dildo of human proportions. LARGE human proportions, but not life-threatening. It was even shaped like a penis, with a fat glans and the suggestion of veins molded into it.
"How does it work?" Denise asked, fascinated.
I had her kneel on the bed and began fitting the strap-on around her hips. The base of the dildo was attached to a triangular pad that fitted over Denise's mons, covering her pussy. One thin, soft strap led from the bottom of the triangle between her legs and up through her ass-crack. I led the other, wider straps over her hips where all three connected to a second, smaller triangle just above her butt-crack. I adjusted the straps until the pink rubber dildo was held firmly in place, jutting out from her groin.
Denise pulled the tip of the dildo up to her belly, reaching nearly to her navel. She let go and it fell back, bobbing heavily in front of her. She giggled.
"Isn't this kind of big?" she laughed.
"Would you believe it's the smallest I could find?"
"Hmmm. Wearing this makes me want to go for a beer ... in a topless bar!" she joked.
Ruth, too, was studying the pink phallus hanging from Denise's crotch.
"Does that work like I think it works?" she asked. "She can actually use that like ... you use yours?"
"Yep, that's the idea," I said, "but I've never actually seen anybody use one ... outside of an X-rated movie. It looks real, but it might not work."
"Let's try," Denise said eagerly. "If it's no good we can always do something else."
"Okaaaay," Ruth said cautiously. She moved to the middle of the bed and laid on her back, propping herself up on her elbows to watch. Denise knelt awkwardly between her legs, then leaned forward, guiding the fake phallus with one hand while leaning her weight on the other. Ruth reached between her legs to help guide the dildo and Denise suspended herself on both arms, eager to push.
"Ready," Ruth said breathlessly, and Denise began pushing, but with little effect. They changed position slightly and tried again.
"Stop," Ruth gasped after half a minute. "It won't go in. I don't think I'm wet enough." She blushed.
Amazing, I thought. A woman she barely knows is trying to push a rubber penis into her most private opening, and Ruth is embarrassed because she isn't wet enough. Her attitude truly HAD changed.
"I think I can help," I said, nudging my way between Ruth's legs. Denise scooted aside and I leaned forward, sliding my hands under Ruth's buttocks. I lifted her hips and eagerly descended on her pussy, hungry for her taste, smelling her sex. I nuzzled through her pubes to kiss her thick outer lips, then darted my tongue between them. I found her opening, then slowly traced my way up her channel toward her little bud. Ruth was up on her elbows, watching me closely, panting quickly.
I avoided touching her clit on the first pass, circling it instead and sliding my tongue back down her slit. There I thrust into her hole as deeply as I could. Ruth rewarded me with a quick gasp and tilted her hips up. I began to slowly tongue-fuck her pussy, caressing the sensitive tissues around her opening, then thrusting deep inside. The sensations became too much and she fell back moaning, her hips thrusting. I extended my arms along her sides and took hold of her breasts, gently rolling her hardening nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She gave a long sigh.
I tongue-fucked Ruth for several minutes, pausing occasionally to suck gently on her labia, and her arousal built steadily. Finally I slid my tongue to the top of her slit where gave her clitoris three long, slow licks. The effect on Ruth was electrifying, at least judging by her deep, hoarse groans. Then I sat up. Her legs were spread limply, as wide as they could go, her pussy shining wet and open.
"I think she's ready," I said to Denise, picking a pube off my tongue.
Denise moved eagerly between our lover's legs and fitted the head of the dildo into her opening. She leaned forward and the fat head suddenly popped inside, prompting a sharp, "Oh!" from Ruth. The shaft gradually disappeared until it was fully inside Ruth's pussy and the pad covering Denise's pussy was pressed firmly against the larger woman's crotch. Ruth's eyes were open now, staring up at Denise's face inches above her.
"God, baby, that's so BIG," she panted.
Denise paid no attention, but began slowly withdrawing the dildo until it was halfway out. Then she slowly thrust forward again, her face a study in concentration. She was fucking Ruth, slowly penetrating her with the long, thick dildo, then slowly withdrawing halfway and repeating the process. The dildo slid easily on a generous coating of pussy juice. Ruth put her hands under her knees and pulled her widespread legs up to her chest, tilting her pussy to meet the invading phallus.
"UUUUUuuuuuuuuunnnnnnNNNHHHHH," Ruth groaned at the next penetration, and Denise stopped momentarily.
"Does this feel okay?" she asked, and Ruth quickly nodded her head, 'Yes,' while she stared longingly at Denise's tits, bobbing just out of reach above her.
Denise began to speed her thrusts and I put my mouth against her ear.
"Shift your weight forward to rub her clit more," I whispered, and she did, prompting another long moan from Ruth, "UuuuuuuuuuuunnnnNNNNNNHHHHHHH!"
Denise was concentrating intently, looking down to where her hips met Ruth's, connected by the gleaming pink shaft. Her pleasure rising in steady waves, Ruth began encouraging her lover in a low, urgent whisper.
"Yes ... sweetheart! Fuck me with that thing! Oh ... oh ... oh ... yessss, babyyyyyy! ... That feels so gooood! ... So deeeeep! ... So haaaard! Yes! Yes! YeeesssssSSS!!! Harder! HARDER!
Denise had mastered the dildo strapped to her crotch and was fucking with ease now, ending each thrust with a small grunt. I watched her muscular buttocks flex each time she pushed her artificial dick into Ruth's waiting pussy. Sweat glistened on her back and made short wisps of black hair cling to her neck. She was breathing deep and steady, like a runner pacing herself in a race.
After several minutes of this treatment, Ruth gradually fell silent. Her eyes screwed shut and her breathing changed to quick, shallow pants. She strained to hold her legs up and open, with her forearms hooked under her knees. Then she gave a long, high-pitched whimper and exploded, crying out wildly and thrusting herself up at Denise.
"GAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" Ruth shouted. "OH, FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK MMEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Her head slammed back onto the bed, her back arched and her hips began thrusting urgently upward to meet Denise's descending shaft.
"UNNNHH! UNNNHH! UNNNHH! UNNNNNNNNNNNNHHHHHH!!! she moaned. "Oh, SWEETHEART! Oh, SWEETIE! OH, YESSSSSSSSSS!!!
I thought Ruth's orgasm would never end. She moaned and cursed and bucked and shuddered until Denise had to fall forward, hugging Ruth tightly to stay on top. Ruth's hands were all over Denise, now gripping her ass-cheeks, now raking her back. Denise gave up thrusting and just hung on, her rubber penis completely buried inside her lover.
Finally Ruth was spent, motionless, lying still under Denise, but still breathing deep, harsh gulps of air. Denise raised head and looked at me with wonder.
"That was AMAZING!" she exclaimed. "Doing that to her, I felt so SEXY and so POWERFUL at the same time! What a RUSH!"
I leaned over to Denise for a long, lingering kiss, tasting sweat on her lips.
"It's a kick," I said, "and you did a great job. You already know more about satisfying a woman than half the guys on the planet.Denise gazed thoughtfully down at Ruth's face, lying slack and serene a few inches below her own.
"It's not exactly easy, but it's sure worth the effort," she mused. "I could feel her cumming with every ounce of her body."
She laid her head on Ruth's shoulder, gently kissing and caressing her with a tender expression on her face. I slid one arm under Ruth's neck and the other across Denise's shoulders, hugging them to me. We rested like that for a long time (I may have dozed a little) until Ruth suddenly moved and giggled, "I never want to move again, but if I don't, I'm afraid my legs will start to cramp. If that happens, you guys will be carrying me to the emergency room to have this thing surgically removed!"
We all laughed at that and Denise began slowly, gingerly to remove herself from Ruth's embrace -- and her pussy. The first few inches of dildo came out slowly, reluctantly, Ruth's coarse pubes and inner labia clinging wetly to the pink shaft. The last couple of inches popped out in a rush, leaving the mouth of Ruth's pussy gaping open for a second. Denise knelt there, stroking the dildo dangling between her legs, and Ruth reached down to rub her crotch.
"My pussy is going to be as sore as my ass!" she declared, then she blushed.
Denise looked at me with arched eyebrows.
"I fucked Ruth's butt this afternoon," I admitted. "She was great!"
"You guys really have covered a lot of ground," Denise laughed. "Here, help me with these straps."
(End of Chapter 14) | 4 |
5,153 | It's Hard to be a Man | "When were you thinking of telling me?"
Patrick finished swallowing the headache tablets and looked up at Hank. "Well, things have moved really fast, and I didn't want to tell you until things were set in stone."
"Bullshit," Hank replied forcefully, "I heard you gave your notice this morning."
"Yeah, and I talked them into giving you my job."
"Why aren't you taking me with you to your new company then?"
Patrick felt for Hank. His friend looked genuinely offended. "Hank, you know how it'll be. I won't be able to pay you anything like what you're getting paid now, let alone what you'll get doing my job."
Hank thought for a moment. "No, there's far more to this than just my bank account, and I think I know what it is."
"You and Rebecca?" Patrick asked innocently. "No, it has nothing to do with your little affair."
"You knew?" Hank asked.
"I found out afterwards. I'll admit, I was a little angry when I found out, but Becky pointed out she can look after herself. There's more to her than meets the eye, you know."
Hank was puzzled by that - he'd found her to be a fairly shallow bimbo - but he was not about to mention that to his friend. "Yeah. So why aren't you taking me to your new business?"
"It's because of our friendship that I'm not. Even if my company does well, it'll be years until you have enough work to stretch your abilities, and there will be zero promotion prospects. That's why our friendship will be better with you here in my chair."
Hank finally accepted that Patrick wasn't mad at him and returned to work. Patrick tried to concentrate on her work, but she found herself thinking about the changes that had occurred in such a short time.
The love she felt for Ian had quickly blossomed into something wonderful. In comparison, all the other relationships she had had over the years seemed very empty. Patrick felt that she hadn't so much as changed as grown. She had been like a kid who hadn't grown up, simply reveling in physical sensations and not interested in a long-term relationship. With Ian, she had finally matured, and she felt for the first time she was making love with someone rather than simply getting sexual relief.
It was true that she no longer saw what Amanda had inadvertently done to her as a curse. How had Ian put it? He had said that she was no longer merely a man or merely a woman, but the best of both.
Patrick was still musing over her new view of the world when she got back to her apartment that evening. She and Ian had left separately. Patrick knew how hard it was to hide office romances, but it seemed that no one had noticed any strange looks between her and Ian; probably because the whole idea would have seemed too ridiculous to them.
She let her body slip back into its female form and then stretched. The sooner she could stop having to keep her body male for up to five hours at a time, the better. She stripped out of her ill-fitting clothes and headed for the shower.
She took her time, luxuriating as the hot jets of water unknotted her muscles. She felt another arm snake around her waist, and she turned to see Ian climbing in with her. "I was beginning to wonder where you had got to," she told him.
"Never mind," he replied, "I'm here now."
After they took turns washing each other, they dried themselves off and headed to the bedroom. It wasn't long before they were kissing and cuddling on the bed.
Patrick could quite easily see how aroused Ian was, but he seemed strangely reticent. "What's the matter?" she asked.
"Well, you know I asked to see you as a man?"
"Yes."
"Can you do it now?"
Patrick sighed. She really didn't want to do it, but she knew how necessary it was. Even if she thought of herself as female, she was still going to spend a portion of her future life as a man. "Perhaps we should do this a bit at a time."
"Okay," Ian replied. "What did you have in mind?" Almost immediately, he felt something touch his belly. He thought for a moment that Patrick had rested one of her hands there, but they were both in plain sight. Then he realized what it was.
Patrick rolled onto her back, and they both looked down at her penis standing proudly upwards. Ian felt his mouth go dry as he drank in the image before him. This new half-female/half-male creature was just as sexy as the fully female Patrick, but in a different way.
Patrick picked up Ian's hand and guided it down to her erect member. At first, Ian just let his hand rest there as he didn't know quite what to do. From the first time he had seen Patrick change, he had slowly become aware of his own true desires. It wasn't simply that Patrick's female form was very attractive. What added a whole new dimension was the knowledge that inside that sexy, ultra-feminine body was the soul of a man.
Slowly, Ian clasped his hand around Patrick's hard member and then looked up at her face. Carefully at first, he began to stroke his hand up and down. Patrick gave a small gasp of anticipation. Her hands reached down to Ian's lap to hold his penis.
Together they slowly caressed each other. Ian was starting to savor the feeling of holding the penis of another... man? Patrick couldn't be called merely a man or a woman, but somehow a merger of both. A beautiful, unique being.
An idea presented itself in Ian's head. He couldn't do that, could he? Why not, he thought to himself. He let go of his lover's penis and started to turn around on the bed.
Patrick watched him with a huge smile on her face. "Are you sure you want to go that far the first time?" she asked.
"Maybe not, but there's no point holding back now, is there?"
Ian straddled Patrick and looked down at her crotch. He held the base of her penis, closed his eyes, and slowly lowered his head towards it. A hot, hard lump pressed into his cheek. He closed his mouth on it. A part of him couldn't believe he was doing this, but it was making him incredibly excited.
Hands grabbed his own penis, and he slowly lowered his hips. Then he felt Patrick's tongue running over the head of his cock. Ian moaned around his lover's penis. Patrick was relatively new to sucking cock, but she had been a quick learner. Ian didn't want to disappoint Patrick, so he tried to copy what she was doing. He licked Patrick's penis until it was slick with his own saliva and then sucked it deep into his mouth.
Patrick gripped Ian's ass and dug her fingernails in. Ian could feel himself quickly rising towards orgasm. He gently squeezed Patrick's balls with his free hand, and he felt her tense under him.
Without warning, Patrick flipped Ian over onto his back so that she was on top. She started to slowly stroke in and out of Ian's mouth while her own head bobbed up and down on his cock. Now she controlled the pace, and all Ian could do was take what was given. Patrick's balls were slapping against his nose as she rode him towards her orgasm.
Her expert tongue quickly succeeded in pushing him to the brink of orgasm, and, with a muffled cry, he flooded her mouth.
Patrick wasn't far behind, and soon she too felt the almost-forgotten power of a male orgasm. Ian almost choked on the cum and swallowed most of it by reflex.
Patrick rolled off him, and then turned around so they could cuddle. They didn't say anything as they lay in each other's arms. There was nothing that needed to be said. Each knew they had found the missing part of themselves.
Abigail sniffed loudly. Amanda rolled her eyes and fished out a tissue for her.
"I'm sorry," Abigail said as she dabbed her eyes, "weddings always do this to me."
Amanda didn't like to show it, but the occasion had got to her as well. She had never thought she would ever be in a church for Patrick's wedding, let alone with her former lover as the bride!
But she had to admit that Ian and Patrick really went together well.Patrick had helped Ian become more assertive, and he had brought out the deeper emotions in her.
Amanda looked around the church. Ian was up at the altar waiting for Patrick to arrive. His bride was being traditionally late, but Amanda had no doubts that she would arrive. Patrick always saw things through to the end.
The previous evening had been a bit weird for Amanda. Together with Patrick and a few female friends, they had hit the town, celebrating Patrick's last night of freedom. If only Patrick had been like that in temperament when they had been going out, but it had taken the curse and Ian to mature her to this point.
Elsewhere in the city, Ian had been going through the same old ritual, though Amanda had made Hank promise that he got Ian to the church in time and able to stand up. Hank had managed the role of Best Man quite well so far, though he had been quite confused by Patrick's point-blank refusal to go to 'Rebecca's' wedding.
Amanda realized that eventually he would have to be told the truth about Patrick/Rebecca, but it was probably wise to wait a few years. Amanda doubted Hank could handle the news that he had slept with his old boss at the moment.
The familiar wedding march suddenly struck up on the organ, and Amanda, with the rest of the church, turned to see Patrick make her entrance. Amanda had already seen the dress before, but even so, she was entranced by the figure standing there.
It was a traditional full-length, white, wedding gown. Amanda had made several comments to Patrick about the honesty of wearing white, but her jibes had been ignored.
As Patrick passed Amanda and Abigail, she gave them a little smile from behind her veil before heading up to the altar. Amanda's feeble attempts at cynicism quickly faded, and she found herself getting as wrapped up in the ceremony as Abigail was.
Patrick herself was struck by the unreality of the whole event. Throughout her former life, she had never thought of herself as the marrying type. Now, there she was, marrying a man! She managed to get through her vows with only two stumbles. Ian had been very surprised when she had left the passage 'to honor and obey' in her vows; until that is, she said he should make the same vow.
Ian's proposal had come totally out of the blue, but Patrick had quickly grown to like the idea. The only problem was 'Rebecca's' legal non-existence. Some less-than-legal dealings with a friend of a friend in the legal profession had finally given his female self some form of a legal identity. Good enough to get married anyway.
"I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Patrick and Ian turned to face each other. Patrick let Ian lift the veil, and then they kissed. She savored the moment, the feel of the dress holding her feminine body, her husband's arm around her, and the wonderful taste of his lips. She knew she would remember that moment for the rest of her life.
It wasn't until much later at the reception that Amanda and Abigail were able to get a moment alone with Patrick.
"I must admit," Amanda said, "I still think you're mad."
"Perhaps, but I'm happy," Patrick replied.
"That's the most important thing," Abigail agreed.
Patrick smiled, and then turned to face the hall. "Time to throw the bouquet!" She declared.
Abigail whooped and quickly rushed over to line up with the other women, but Amanda hung back.
"You not joining in then?"
She turned to see Hank walking over to her. "No, it's all a bit childish really."
"Don't be silly," he said, grabbing her arm and walking her over to the waiting women. Amanda rolled her eyes and decided to go along with it.
"Here it comes!" shouted Patrick and lobbed the bouquet over her shoulder towards them.
Hank had no time to get out of the way before half a dozen women crashed him to the floor. "Ladies, please," he begged as the crowd laughed, "one at a time!"
"Who got it?" Patrick asked as the women picked themselves off the floor.
"Hank did," Amanda announced with a big smile.
Hank looked down to see the bouquet stuffed into his suit. He gave a sharp look at Amanda, who did her best to look innocent.
"Congratulations," Ian said as he helped Hank up from the floor.
All too soon, it was time to see the bride and groom off on their honeymoon. A magnificent horse and carriage waited to take them away.
Amanda showered them with confetti and then waved until they were out of sight.
"There goes one lucky man," Hank commented. He was already slightly drunk, and it was still fairly early.
"So you wish you were the one getting married today then?" Amanda asked.
"Well, you know... if I met the right girl," he replied.
"That girl doesn't exist, and you know it."
"Maybe she's closer than you think..."
"Yeah, right," Amanda replied with a laugh.
As the reception wound down, Amanda and Hank talked. Amanda liked Hank for all his faults. He did have an attractive body and a witty personality. Unfortunately, he was exactly the way Patrick used to be; he didn't want to settle down with any one person, and she could trust him with women about as far as she could throw him. Quite frankly, she had had enough of that from Patrick.
Finally, Amanda checked her watch and was surprised at how late it was. "I've got to be going, Hank." She got up and wobbled slightly from the drink. What the hell had gone into that punch bowl anyway?
Hank staggered to his feet, clearly even worse for wear than she was. "Don't go yet. I know this great out-of-the-way place."
"I'm sure you do. Goodnight, Hank."
"Hold up," Hank reached for her, tripped over a chair leg, and crashed into her. He grabbed hold to stop himself from falling over. It only dawned on him slowly that he had grabbed hold of something round and soft. He removed his hand from her chest and started to apologize.
Before he got very far, Amanda slapped him. "You're worse than Patrick ever was! I wish you understood how a woman wants to be treated! Then maybe you'd keep your hands to yourself!"
A strange look came over Hank's face. His hands flew to his crotch, as if looking for something he had lost.
Belatedly, Amanda realized Hank had lost his balance rather than had tried to sexually harass her. She remembered the wish she had made and the way Hank was pressing his hands to his crotch with a horrified look on his face.
"Oops," she said.
THE END | 4 |
5,160 | AJ's Revenge (A short story) | "I did it! I really did it!" Mel was so pleased that she had plucked up the courage to flash her firm juicy tits live on air. The viewers had been asking to see them since the series began.
AJ sat in the corner of the hospitality suite clutching a can of beer; he couldn't take his eyes off Caesar, just how was he going to get his revenge on the little twat? Caesar sat at the bar, still wearing his soccer referee's outfit he had worn during the show. Having downed a few drinks, he was just a little tipsy.
"Hey AJ!" Caesar bellowed across the room "How's my little dick tonight!"
AJ forced a smile, "Cunt!" he muttered under his breath.
Steve Perry, better known as Ben Dover to his fans, was sitting at the far end of the bar sipping a glass of wine. Mel, who had drunk far too much by now, was stripped to her bra and panties. She had her arm around Steve and was demanding he give her tits a squeeze.
"What's the matter? My tits not good enough for the great Ben Dover!"
Steve smiled, "I think they're lovely" but what about Caesar?
"He won't mind, he's too pissed."
The only other person in the room was the cute busty blonde stripper that had taken part in the game show. Every time a viewer picked the right card, she took something off. She was sitting on the floor staring at a bottle of beer, she couldn't make up her mind to drink it or fuck it.
AJ sat watching the scene in front of him, when his eye spotted a large roll of brown sticky tape. The thick stuff that you seal parcels with. Why not, he thought. He picked up the roll and casually walked over to where Caesar was sitting at the bar.
"Ooooh look it's AJ! Or is that A dick; heheheheeeee!"
AJ gave the end of the tape to Caesar who just sat there with a puzzled look on his face. AJ quickly began wrapping the tape around Caesar, sticking both arms to his sides, before long Caesar's arms and upper body were cocooned in brown tape, Caesar just sat there giggling.
"Look Mel, look. I'm a turd!"
"To fucking right!" agreed AJ.
AJ pulled out his pocket camera and pulled down Caesar's shorts and pants. Caesar looked shocked and confused.
"W, What's going on!"
"A little something for the website" AJ raised his camera "a very little something by the look of it!"
Before he could take a picture, Mel started hugging him.
"Me, me, me, take a picture of me, please AJ."
AJ looked at Mel, somehow she had lost her bra, Steve Perry was smiling to himself. Her firm tits bounced in front of AJ's face. Her nipples stood out hard and erect, she was gorgeous. A mental image flashed through AJ's mind, he was cumming in Mel's sexy mouth, right on he thought.
"Anyway" Mel started rubbing AJ's crotch "You won't find his dick, it's almost impossible to find when he's hard."
AJ pulled Mel towards him and kissed her, her mouth opened and swallowed AJ's tongue. One of AJ's hands squeezed Mel's right tit. she cooed in pleasure, Mel reached down and unzipped AJ, releasing his 8-inch hard on. AJ let his free hand slip down to Mel's pussy, god she was wet!
To AJ's surprise another pair of hands joined his, he looked down to see the blonde stripper completely naked kneeling behind Mel, pulling Mel's panties down. Mel gave out a long loud groan as the blonde parted her ass cheeks and thrust her tongue into her sweet asshole. AJ placed his prick at the entrance to Mel's pussy and sank deep inside her. Mel was so turned on, standing in front of Caesar, sandwiched, both her holes being excited.
Caesar looked on horrified. "No Mel don't do it please!"
Mel groaned with pleasure.
"At least try to look as if you're not enjoying it!" Caesar shouted "Nooooooo Mel!"
Steve pulled a table over to the three sexpots; Mel was laid on her back as AJ pumped into her pussy with a squelch. The stripper crouched over Mel and lowered her smooth pussy onto her face. As Mel drank the blonde's pussy juice, she looked up just in time to see Steve's enormous prick penetrate the blonde's ass. As Steve ravaged the stripper's ass, he looked at AJ, winked and nodded towards the bar. AJ smiled, Steve had set up his video camera and was recording the whole show.
Mel's body convulsed as she came, a muffled cry came from her full mouth. Steve pulled the blonde off Mel, he knew AJ was about to cum. AJ pushed his prick into Mel's open mouth, as she began to suck he felt his shaft begin to throb, he released a full load into Mel's willing mouth. He watched as she swallowed every drop, and started to lick her pussy juice off AJ's cock.
"Bitch!" screamed Caesar "You never let me do that!"
Steve let out a groan as he shot his cum all over the blonde's ample chest. He was about to rub his cum into her smooth skin, when AJ suggested Mel should lick it off. Mel's eager mouth went to work, slurping up the white sticky globs on the blonde's tits. Mel used her tongue to make sure they were clean, paying special attention to her hard nipples.
Steve then lay on the table, prick pointing skywards; Mel didn't need a written invitation. She mounted Steve and lowered herself onto his prick. Mel gasped as her pussy stretched around Steve's prick. Her eyes bulged in surprise as AJ entered her ass.
"Ooooooh! Fuck me you bastards! Fucking split me!"
AJ and Steve were happy to oblige.
"Nnnnnnnnghgh! I'm cumming!"
AJ and Steve pumped harder.
"Mmmmmmmmghg!"
Mel's whole body shook as she came, this triggered AJ and Steve, both men filled her belly with their cum. All three formed a sweaty heap on the table.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHGH!"
They looked at Caesar, shocked at what they saw. The young blonde, tired of being left out, had pushed Caesar to the floor; he was on his knees. She had her left hand between Caesar's legs and was wanking his prick. Her right hand was fucking Caesar's ass with a beer bottle.
AJ and Steve looked at each other, "Shit!"
Steve leapt off the table; a look of relief crossed Caesar's face. It soon turned to horror as Steve grabbed his camera and started filming.
Within minutes Caesar shot his load onto the floor, Steve's final shot as the video faded out was of a semi-conscious Caesar laying in his own cum with a bottle sticking out of his ass. The caption read "The best dildo in the world; probably!"
Two days later the video grabs and the AVIs appeared on AJ's website. Mel was given her own show and Caesar; well he became famous for his beer commercials.
Revenge complete? YESsss! | 5 |
5,165 | Dungeon of Desire | "If you do pee in my bed, I'm sending you straight back to Sauron," Miriam warned me. She wore a simple summer dress, and her hair was caught up loosely in a chignon, but I had no doubt she could enforce her will upon me if she wished. I wore a dog's collar. She, as if to keep some symbol of authority upon her, carried a long, slim riding crop in her fist. It was freshly polished. I gazed at it, and she watched me.
"Go ahead, do it," Dick laughed. "I will if you do." Miriam, looking like she must enforce her will somehow, put a hand on young Dick's tousled head and leaned over him. Her big bosoms nearly spilled from her open-necked dress, its buttons more undone than done, barely containing the weight of her full breasts as all but their nipples hung forth. Carefully, looking quite grave and mature, Miriam slipped her riding crop under Dick's penis and lifted its elongated length. "Such a delightful young penis you have here, young man..." Miriam said. "I should hate to have to hurt it."
Dick trembled. I think something changed in him as he watched his big penis hefted up by Miriam's crop, held stiffly in her small fist. I gazed, fascinated, as she ran her crop in a sawlike fashion under the halfway point of his shaft, as if to cut it in two. Then she slid the crop down to the tip of his penis. She caught the crown of his huge knob in the loop at the end of her crop. She tugged on him. He was trapped, lightly, within her crop's loop. Then she delicately brought her free hand down and, nimbly, used her nailed fingers to detach him from her loop. She swung the crop freely. He watched, his eyes big.
"A man is coming to fuck me," she said to Dick. "Otherwise I'd make you pee, and I'd torture your big penis all night for it." She stood upright, looked at the window, ran her fingers through her hair. "And all afternoon. And forever, probably, but this man is most jealous, and I cannot let him see you. You must leave, dear boy, and you too, Kelly. All of you must go now. Playtime's over. Back to the real world and real things." She turned, and I saw her bottom sway within her dress as she moved. It was a large, fully shaped woman's bottom. She looked back over her shoulder at me and then, watching me, she slapped her own hiney with her riding crop. "He's most severe," she teased me. "You'd never be able to stand him."
And then she left. Leaving, though, thoughts behind in my mind. I was trembling with some untouched need, something I'd only tested a little before, something which still lay dormant within me. I had to have someone break through to it, and I knew if he did, I'd melt into myself in a pool of bliss, and I'd die.
He'd birth a new me. I wanted the baby. I glanced at Dick, longing in my eyes, but I knew he couldn't break through for me. He was only good at spearing hymens, physical barriers, not breaking into a girl's psychology. Yet, he could help.
I think, somehow, he knew what I was thinking. As if to bond with him, with my fate, I let my pee (with some trepidation and difficulty) spritz from my peehole. It flooded the bed between my thighs. My cunny made water. Dick watched, and then, as if tacitly agreeing with what I must do, he peed too. Our companions laughed as we added to the wet spots already on the bed, most significantly.
"Take me. Protect me," I whispered to Dick when we were done. We sat like children, apart, our legs spread on the white sheets of the bed.
"You know I can't protect you," Dick replied.
"Take me anyway. I want you to watch," I urged. I really did need him.
"Who will protect me?" he asked.
I smiled. "You're a big strong guy," I said. I licked my lips.
"So's Sauron," he answered.
"Come on, let's all take a bath together," the honey blonde interrupted. The strawberry redhead nodded her agreement but asked, "Where?"
"Outside, on the grass. We can all bathe together out there. It's nice and warm," the blonde answered. I looked at her. We didn't even know each other's names, yet we were all nude together. She smiled at my blonde hair, and we shared dumb blonde thoughts, sisterly thoughts, just our eyes speaking. Beside her stood her lover, a newly minted Officer with his cock erect and ready for action.
I decided to join them. Rising, I snagged Dick's penis between my fingers as I left the bed. I made him follow me. I held him by his lone fleshy rein, his genital-rein. He came after me like a big horse, his feet heavy on the stairs, his breathing a little labored (from passion!) as he followed me with his dick in my hand. The blonde and the redhead copied me, leading their Officer lover by his penis, both of them holding him.Another great shot in the Cindy and John pictorial is on page 56. It shows Cindy, her mouth agape, about to receive an emission from John's penis. Yet another photo I liked is on page 59. It shows Cindy licking John's cock. But you also see, in the same photo, her long, lovely neck, stretching forth to suck him. And you see her slender, naked back, plus her sumptuous bare bosoms.
I mention particular photos in the Cindy and John pictorial for this reason: the 'important' photos, of Cindy licking John's cock, mostly didn't turn me on. Sure, they're great for helping little kids understand what Clinton (allegedly) did with Monica. But, aside from that, they're not much fun. I've seen tons of dick-licking photos in porno magazines and am quite tired of looking at them. But the shots I've detailed above are new, fun, and interesting. If you're making porn, it's important not to just recycle the same old poses again and again. Photos of splayed cunts and licked dicks are as common as weeds. But, with a little ingenuity, as Swank displays in some of its photos this month, an old, tired subject can be given new life.
Cindy reappears, in the "Uncensored All Girl Lickfest," on page 84. (She has a different name in this pictorial, but it's the same girl. She's the one holding the camera.) The "lick fest" is a standard girl-on-girl pictorial, but again Swank saves an otherwise boring pictorial with the inclusion of new and creative shots.
For instance, right at the start of the pictorial, a blonde in a white bikini is baring her breast. Despite the fact that all four girls will soon be licking each other, I sense a tad of jealousy in the face of another blonde, in a silver bikini. She's staring at the blonde's bared tit and seems to be thinking, "Oh, she thinks she's so hot... just because she has such nice tits."
It's exciting to think that these girls could be envious of each other! I can imagine girls at a real orgy being like that. Eager to fuck, yet jealous also. This is the sort of emotion that's important. It makes this pictorial seem real. The worst sort of pictorial would be what you usually see... paid harlots, who couldn't care less about getting naked, and aren't even thinking about what they're doing as they engage in the most 'intimate' of acts.
Another nice photo begins the "lick fest" pictorial. It's of all four girls, still 'clothed' in their bikinis, gazing up with innocent eyes at Cindy as she photographs them. It's another way of saying, "These are real girls, with real emotions."
Of course, a porno magazine wouldn't be any fun if the most innocent-looking of girls didn't get down and 'do it'! These girls do, on the following pages, beginning with some lovely shots of the blonde being stripped of her panties and bra (pg. 86). Also on page 86 is a fantastic photo of Cindy kneeling. You see her mouth, open in wonder, gazing at the blonde's twat. Even more exciting, you see her bare bottom, her bare legs and bare feet. The fact that Cindy is barefoot adds to her naturalness. If she were wearing high-heels in that photo, I think it would be less sexy. But those bare feet, with her bottom jutting above them in all its wonderful, naked, cheek-split glory, is the best photo in this issue!
Sadly, the "lick fest" pictorial loses its way on the following pages. Sure, there's a great shot of the blonde screaming, as she's invaded by her cunt-mates' fingers and tongues. But there are also some boring, 'standard' photos, images that are little more than explorations in gynecology. (Or butthole-ology.)
How wonderful it would have been if these girls had wound up taking playful swats at each other with a riding crop! Or, they could have inflated a baby pool (with their succulent mouths) and played in it. There is no reason why a pictorial has to stick to just one subject. Why do photographers seem to concentrate on just one thing? Like, you know, "this is a pictorial about sex and food." Or, "this is an all girl lickfest." Fuck that! Put lots of stuff in your pictorial! Sure, you'll have to make the pictorial longer, but so what? Editorial judgement should tell you: "This is a good pictorial. Heck, we could devote half the magazine to just these four girls, having sexy adventures."
Note: I do NOT mean, in saying the above, that the girls should have a series of separate adventures. That would be a return to the same, tired formula, of 'one subject' pictorials. They could do everything in one afternoon: strip, lick, spank, and swim. The pictorial could be 20 pages long, showing the girls getting progressively more kinky and messy. But, always, there should be a strong element of naturalness in the photos. The viewer should think, "This could really happen, to real, innocent girls." Maybe the girls are cooped up in a boarding school. Maybe their boyfriends are away, in the Army, in Saudi Arabia, and they decided to make a sexy video for them, and got carried away. Whatever. As long as they don't look like uncaring hookers. That we've seen far too much of in porno magazines.
(One could, of course, make a magazine featuring tawdry older women who absolutely don't give a damn. In that case, you would want to focus explicitly on that. But you must decide what you want! Too much porn is just 'whacked out,' without any regard for an artistic vision.)
Another fun pictorial in this issue is "Sonya and Josie" (pg. 20). This pictorial isn't as creative as the others (just two girls in bed), but it does have one or two nice shots. Specifically, a 'butt fucking shot' on page 22, plus a shot of Sonya gazing anxiously down at Josie as Josie licks Sonya's twat. (Also on page 22.)
Which brings up an important point: girls, OPEN YOUR EYES when you're doing girl/girl pictorials. Sure, there are some photos, where the characters will be so overwhelmed with lust that their eyes will necessarily be closed. But, far too often, I am seeing girls with their eyes completely closed throughout the pictorial. How stupid! If I were having sex with a girl, I'm very sure my eyes would be open! I'd be like, "Whoa, there's her tits!" and, "Look! Her cunt!" Do you think if Beavis and Butthead were having sex with a girl their eyes would be closed? Heck no!
Now, since I don't have enough money to make my own porn, allow me to give away a few of my ideas. Here are some things I'd like to see in a future issue of Swank:
1. One girl brushing another girl's teeth. Make sure both girls look sweet and innocent. Also, make sure you can see the bare bosoms of both girls hanging down. Have the girl who is getting her teeth brushed wearing a bright ribbon in her hair.
2. One girl douching another.
3. One girl wiping another after she poops on the toilet.
4. A girl eating with a too-short bib around her neck, so that you see her lovely bare bosoms.
5. A girl at a party, being initiated by being made to drink Castor Oil. Then, so she doesn't make a mess, she has her bare bottom powdered and fitted into diapers. (With pins, of course!)
Remember to emphasize the softness and intimacy of feeling that exists between the girls. Also, they should look extraordinarily pretty. There should, in addition, be a sense of competitiveness between the girls in some of the photos. Is the brushing of teeth a loving act between two girls, or a 'mother' girl brushing the teeth of a bratty 'baby' girl? It's up to you, Swank!
The important thing is not to simply grind out shots of naked people. Use your imagination! If you can't think of anything, just go to some college or high school and find some nerdy guy. Some guy who's never had sex. He'll be full of all sorts of wild, creative, fanciful ideas you can try. Some will be a little 'exotic'. Some might violate the Hatch Act. But, on the whole, he'll probably have some pretty great ideas.
In my case, I'm thoroughly bored with the subject of sex and will, from now on, be devoting this newsletter to the Windows 95 operating system.little-neck.ny.us
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5,171 | Citation | "Damn!" The patrol car's blue and red flashers loomed large in my rear view 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 mutter 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 rear-view, 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 rear-view 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 rear view 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 it's 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 waiver an inch....I backed in slowly.
"Strip."
"What?" I couldn't believe what I'd heard. "I'm not stipping 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.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."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 judgement.Please, Mistress, I beg of you, have compassion for this unworthy servant .... I exist only to give you pleasure .... ummmmm 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-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 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, it's 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 wash cloth 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, sensu-ally. 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 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 apetite." 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 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, nibbled and flicked it with my tongue as hard as I could.
The quivering in her body turned to a shudder, 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 continued to nibble and run my tongue roughly across its tip. Suddenly the scream coming from her throat was cut off .... the shuddering in her body became a heaving of all her muscles .... her clit still pulsating, throbbing in climax! She was holding her breath ..... her muscles ceased heaving and tensed like those of a predator cat ready to pounce .... still her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips .... we were frozen in time like models for a still life artist .... the only movement 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 ..... her hips began rocking back and forth wildly again and 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, her clit resting directly on my tongue .... it was no longer throbbing. I licked it gently .... she began purring like a cat and ran her fingers through my hair, 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. It was 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 .... her tongue seeking out mine and playing tag with it.... little moaning sounds coming 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 .... 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 .... 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. V-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y 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 to the hilt in her hot, wet pussy.
"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 awhile, 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 passions directly into my mouth was helping me, pushing me, to the first ledge of my mountain. The silky wet walls of her pussy 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
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 it's 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 levis and
sweat shirt. 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. | 4 |
5,239 | 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 breasts.
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 device 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 nipples. 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 breasts 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 little old pager in your panties no nevermind at 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 hollow-point 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. | 5 |
5,246 | Story: Clinton 2 | "Yes, I am married, Mr. President," she responded, absent-mindedly bringing her left hand to her chest just below her neck to display her wedding ring.
Bill leaned back and admired her. "My, my, my, your husband sure is a lucky fellow."
"Thank you." She was as nervous as she could recall. She was beginning to fidget in her seat. Unconsciously, she began to rub her buttocks on the seat cushion.
Bill smiled as he watched her fidget. He knew that her squirming was due to her arousal. Her labia were apparently swelling open.
Bill liked the way her jacket highlighted her large breasts and the way the material was nipped in at the waist. He also liked the way her skirt clung to her well-sculpted thighs in a sensual fashion which highlighted her overall sensuality. He could see that she wore no foundation garments, and from what he could determine from the slight sway and jiggle of her breasts, she didn't wear a bra either. Everything on her body was real and genuine. No padded bras, no silicone implants, no tummy tucks of any sort. Her beauty came from genetics, not from a plastic surgeon. He would like to explore more of that beauty. Indeed, he would like to strip her bare, spread her wide, and examine her closely.
He had difficulty deciding where to focus his attention. Breasts or thighs? Face or ass? Calves or nipples? Decisions! Decisions! The work of a horny President was ceaseless and never-ending.
Again, Phyllis's heart went out to the President. The way he gazed at her made her feel like the winner of the Miss America beauty pageant. The blush in her cheeks deepened. She felt as if she were on display in the front window at Macy's.
The President had a hunch he was getting through to her. "You know, you've been asking me questions, do you mind if I ask you a few?"
"Well, I suppose not," she replied.
He noted that she had a shy and retiring way about her. He liked that. Modesty was as much of a turn-on as a woman who was blatantly sexual. He knew Phyllis wasn't the type to initiate sexual activity with her husband. She was probably one of those girls who was happy to lay on her back in the missionary position and do what the husband wanted, when he wanted. She probably didn't spread her thighs very wide during intercourse. Girls like that were rare in modern-day America.
Because of their rarity, they were that much more fun to fuck.
"Do you mind if we retire to your dressing room?" he asked. "I would be much more comfortable talking with you there."
Phyllis looked around her. "Er... this is most unusual."
"Say yes, please. I want to do the interview, but I wish to do it in private."
If it were anyone besides the President of the United States who had requested that of Phyllis, she would have adamantly refused. But how could a tax-paying citizen of the United States refuse a request made by the President? It just wasn't possible. She had to obey. It was her civic duty as a law-abiding non-felon American. She prided herself on being a dutiful taxpayer. After all, she was a good girl. All good girls did their duty.
She grabbed her clipboard and pressed it to her comely breasts. The womanly mounds of flesh flattened slightly under the pressure. She noted that the nipples had turned into hard little pebbles. She wondered why. Usually, they only did that when she was aroused.
It had been a considerable amount of time since she had last been aroused. Her husband, Harry, had stopped arousing her a year ago. Sex had become an infrequent event. "All right," she said. "Come with me."
Oh, he intended to come with her all right. In fact, he intended to cum with her several times during the course of the afternoon. He smiled wickedly at his own joke.
He smacked his lips as he watched her rise from the chair. He took special delight in surveying her. Every time she moved, some part of her body moved as well.
He followed immediately behind her. He watched the shapely butt of the shapely reporter sway to and fro with that unmistakable female rhythm. There was nothing more alluring than the sight of a female ass in motion.
Mmmmm! Mmmmm!
Over the years, he had sampled a lot of pussy, but by far the best pussy belonged to those women who knew how to shake their ass with vim and vigor while stepping along. That shaking indicated the ability to provide a nice tumble in the sack. It meant that the woman knew her stuff.
Mmmmm! Mmmmm!
From all appearances, Phyllis knew all about shaking her shapely ass. The rhythmic hip movements indicated either of two things: first, that she already knew how to move that ass while fucking; or secondly, that she was a woman who wanted to learn. Bill smiled. He was going to have a wonderful time discovering exactly how many ways she could move her ass.
Mmmmm! Mmmmm!
Was she the woman who merely moved it from side-to-side, or was she able to swirl it around like a corkscrew too?
Mmmmm! Mmmmm!
Just thinking about such salacious hip movements set off some significant movements in his pecker. The sperm was beginning to surge in the base of his balls. His cock was beginning to fill with the syrup of love.
The moment that Phyllis stepped into her dressing room and closed the door, she realized that she had made a mistake in agreeing to an interview away from the cameras. She sensed the President walking up behind her. She felt him breathing down her neck. She was just getting ready to protest when she was pulled around to face him.
"Phyllis, baby!"
"Mr. President!" she gasped in alarm while looking up into his face. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" She worried about his motives. She had seldom been handled so roughly by a man before. She had certainly never expected the President of the United States to make a move on her.
"I just want to sample those sweet lips of yours," he said.
"But Mr. President," she exclaimed with a raised voice. "I'm a married woman." She brought her hands up to his chest so that her forearms wedged between their bodies.
He looked at her with a sultry smile and a sneer on his lips. "So what?" he asked. "I'm a married man."
She could see that he was challenging her. His eyes bore directly into hers. She could feel his penetrating gaze all the way to the tips of her toes.
"I know that, Mr. President. That's why I don't think you should be behaving in such a manner. I don't kiss other men."
"Oh, come on now. Surely you can give me just one more little kiss! What would be the harm in that?"
"I... I... think that we ought to terminate the interview."
"Terminate an interview with the President of the United States?! What would the head of your network say to that?"
Phyllis gulped. She knew that Bill had a valid point. If word leaked out that a rookie reporter had terminated an interview with the President, her cushy job as a Washington journalist would be terminated. Good lord! That meant no more parties in Georgetown! That meant no more dining in fabulous restaurants. Good grief! That meant no more expense account! Heaven forbid! That would be the worst thing to befall an overpaid television reporter. Her refusal might result in her being sent off to one of those awful places like Rwanda, or Bosnia, or perhaps... Boise! Egad! She would rather face a firing squad than be sent to Boise. Death would be preferable to such an assignment.
She now knew that she would do whatever the President requested. She liked her cushy reporting job too much to jeopardize it. Actually, she liked her megabuck salary and all the wonderful perks which went with it even more. There weren't too many jobs like hers where all one had to do was look pretty and stand in front of a camera for five minutes per day. She got paid handsomely for basically being a lovely talking head.
Bill could see that she was thinking things over. Ah yes! He loved modern American society. People were so fucking scared of losing their job (if they were lucky enough to have one which paid a decent salary), that they would do anything to keep it.
"Tell me, doll, how would you like to have an assignment inside the White House Press Office?"
Those words caught her attention. "Excuse me?" she asked, confused. Nothing excited a female reporter more than the possibility of being invited to the White House. The only thing more exciting was being offered a job in the White House. And the only thing better than that was being offered a job in the White House press office. That was the top of the pyramid. That was the best slot in the business."Could you please run that by me again, Mr. President?"
He smiled his famous heart-warming smile which had won him so many votes in the last election. In fact, he practically grinned from ear to ear. Now that he knew he was getting through to her, he decided to lay it on thick. That was the nice thing about having power - he could wheel and deal his way between the thighs of practically any beautiful woman.
Just like men, women all had their price.
Keeping his grin in place, he said, "Just imagine, you wouldn't have to do this on-the-road crap anymore. During the middle of the winter, you wouldn't have to stand out in the cold on the White House lawn. You could stay inside and keep your titties warm. And during the summer, you wouldn't have to stand out in the blazing sun and humidity and worry about mussing your pretty hair. No rain, no snow, no sleet, no hail. Just the comforts of working in the White House. Wouldn't that be nice? Mmmmm! Wouldn't you like an assignment like that?"
Phyllis blinked her eyes. She thought that she might be dreaming. An assignment inside the White House. WOW! With her own office! Double wow! And she would probably have her own secretary! Triple wow! And if this was a typical government job, she wouldn't have to work very hard and yet she would receive ten times the benefits of people in the private sector. Hot dog! That was the kind of offer which could convince a good girl to go bad.
Phyllis had done nothing to earn such an assignment. Heck! She had only been with the network for a few years. She didn't even have a degree in journalism. The only thing she had going for her were her looks. But then, she noticed that her looks helped her win a lot of promotions she didn't deserve. Oddly enough, she noticed that, she always got picked for assignments because of her looks.
"But... but... why are you offering me this?" she asked in a soft, trembling voice.
Bill smiled seductively. He stepped closer. The breath caught in her throat as he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her. He embraced her and held her close. She could feel his warm breath on the sides of her neck. He seemed to be nuzzling it, getting ready to kiss it.
He placed the tip of his nose on her earlobe. Gently, he rubbed it back and forth a few times. She found that she liked the sensation. It tickled her and made her feel good all over. She had never guessed that the earlobe was an erogenous zone.
He kept his voice low as he whispered, "You have one of the most scintillating bodies I have ever seen in my life."
She was feeling giddy. And yet, she was quite nervous. "I do?" she asked.
"Oh yes," he replied, continuing to fiddle with her earlobe. "I would say that it's as good as a Playboy Bunny."
"Oh, pshaw!" She knew she was pretty, but never thought she was pin-up material.
"I mean it." He stuck out his tongue and touched the tip to her earlobe.
She felt it moisten. She became momentarily breathless. Other regions of her body were also becoming moist. She couldn't help herself. The fluids just seemed to flow.
"I would like to see all of you."
"All of me?"
"Naked."
Her eyes opened wide. In fact, her eyelids seemed to have acquired the equivalent of lockjaw. They wouldn't close. She couldn't blink. Now she knew the precise reason why she had been offered a choice White House assignment. She was being coaxed to going to bed with the President of the United States. She thought such shenanigans went out of fashion with the Kennedys.
Phyllis knew she had to offer some resistance before things got completely out of hand. "But Mr. President! Your wife!"
Bill giggled. "Hillary?"
"Yes! Think of her."
"Hillary sucks."
Phyllis gasped. "Mr. President. You're speaking about the First Lady!"
"The First Lady is a closet dyke."
"A...a...a...what?"
"A fag."
Once more Phyllis gasped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could the First Lady of the United States be a closet homosexual? If Hillary were a dyke, what was she doing being married to Bill?
"Oh no!"
"Oh yes. Right now she's out in Hollywood, attending some bullshit get-together with some of her bullshit Hollywood buddies. They're all do-gooders, you know. They're either attempting to save the rain forests, or the oceans, or the beaches, or the little animals, or people who suffer from hemorrhoids, or women with leaking silicone breasts, or whatever. In the old days, there were a lot of worthwhile causes to get involved in-such as cancer, or tuberculosis, or heart disease, or Tay-Sachs. However, the Hollywood crowd has run out of truly worthwhile causes. The causes nowadays are increasingly trivial. If they can invent a cause, they do. Then they found a non-profit organization, make some spots for television and radio, and start a campaign. Of course, the actors and actresses who promote these sorts of things care far less about the causes they represent, than they do about keeping their face in front of the public. If I know my wife Hillary, she probably has her head buried between another woman's thighs and she's probably eating her out at this very second. You know, lap, lap, lap."
The news stunned Phyllis. She had long heard rumors about the first lady and her sexual proclivities, but she had never believed them.
"Is that really true?" she asked.
"Yes... I'm afraid it is," said Bill.
"But don't you have sex?"
Actually, Hillary and Bill had sex all the time. In fact, they fucked more than any first family had ever fucked. (With the possible exception of the Kennedys-but then, Jack Kennedy was always busy committing adultery on Jackie.) But the Clintons had established a mutual understanding. If either one of them saw some pussy which he or she liked, he or she would share it with the other. It made for a happy homelife and a very happy White House.
Sometimes, Bill and Hillary would have a threesome. Or, they would invite some of the Cabinet members in and have an orgy in the Oval Office. But Bill didn't want to tell Phyllis that. He wanted her to feel sorry for him. Then maybe she would offer him a piece of her very own succulent ass.
"Mr. President! You have your hands on my buttocks!"
"I know where they are, Phyllis."
"I'm married. Please pull them away." She hoped that by making that statement he would do the decent thing and release her from his grip. However, the words only served to draw her closer to him.
He paid no attention to her plea. Instead, he commenced rubbing her posterior with the palm of his hand. He loved the feel of a shapely woman's ass. There was something especially sensual about cupping the cheeks of the female ass in one's palms, and running one's fingers back and forth along the curvature of the flesh, while at the same time pressing one's fingers into the resilient mounds as if they were bread dough and he were a baker kneading it.
He pressed her closer to him by her ass. He fixed his rod of flesh to that especially vulnerable region between the hollow of her thighs so that she could feel his arousal. He adjusted his pelvis so that she could discern the blunt end of his manhood. He wanted her to know how he felt about her. He wanted her to know he had a hard-on.
She knew he had an erection all right. She felt it rubbing between her tightly clamped thighs, through the material of her skirt and his slacks. And as a result, she became even more worried about his intentions. Surely he wouldn't be so bold as to make a move on her! Surely he couldn't! He was the President of the United States, for crying out loud!
But she could feel the evidence of his need. And because he held her close, she could feel every single inch of it. It was making quite an impression on her legs.
She attempted to appeal to his sense of decency.
"Mr. President. I really don't think this is right."
"Sure it is. It's as right as rain."
"No it isn't. I don't play around. Really, I don't. Honestly."
He found that hard to believe. "All American women play around nowadays."
"No they don't." She knew that a lot of women did in fact play around. Indeed, some of her friends committed adultery regularly. Some even went so far as to say that they couldn't go through a week without at least one new lover.
"This is a hedonist society, lady. Where have you been?"
"I am not a hedonist. I am a happy and proud puritan."
Bill snickered. "Puritanism died a terrible death some time ago."
Phyllis became defensive. "Not with me it didn't."
"You're too beautiful to be a puritan."
His words touched her. Like all women, she responded to being called beautiful.
"I don't care. I am."
"I bet that underneath that prim exterior of yours lies a woman of incredible passion and responsiveness. I bet that other side of you is yearning to break out and breathe free."
"You're very wrong, Mr. President. There is no other side of me other than what you see."
"What I see is quite gorgeous. Breathtakingly so."
Once more she was touched. Not only did he think her beautiful, but gorgeous as well. Could he really be falling for her? Was it possible that the President of the United States wanted to have an affair with a lowly network reporter? She was quite confused by this turn of events. She was now having doubts about her avowed puritanical attitude. Perhaps she was a little too strict by today's standards. Maybe she should play the field-at least once-just to see what it was all about. Besides, when one was asked by the President to do something, wasn't it considered patriotic to follow?
"I'm a lonely man, Phyllis. I really am."
She knew what those words meant. She knew where his line of reasoning was going. He was preparing her for the conquest. "I don't think I can do anything for you," she cautioned.
"You could ease my loneliness."You could make me seem whole again. You could satisfy my carnal needs.
She took a deep breath and replied, "You have a wife to do that. You don't need me."
"Hillery and I aren't sleeping together anymore. We haven't for quite some time."
"Oh dear! Do you mean that you and Hillery no longer... er... You're saying that... er... I mean..." Phyllis had a difficult time framing her question. She really couldn't ask such a personal thing of him. Such questions were better left to Sam Donaldson, the cutthroat journalist. Sam was terrific with those questions which made a reporter resemble a son-of-a-bitch.
The President took the opportunity to answer. "That's right. We no longer do it. Never."
Phyllis knew that denial of sexual intercourse was a terrible thing to happen to a man. After all, men lived for sex. Men were always getting erections and needed someplace to put them. She knew that to be true because she was approached by wolves all the time! Many of those wolves were married and had families!
But Bill wasn't like that. He couldn't be like that. After all, he was the President of the United States. And as everyone knows, Presidents don't lie (unless one excludes Lyndon Johnson for lying about ending the Vietnam War, and Richard Nixon for lying about knowing of Watergate, and George Bush for lying about raising taxes).
But Phyllis was willing to give Bill the benefit of the doubt. After all, he seemed like such a warm and caring man. He seemed like such a nice fellow. She decided to be empathetic.
"Oh you poor dear."
Bill listened carefully to her tone of voice. He deduced that she was sincerely sympathetic. He decided that he should press matters further along. After all, he was quite horny. "My John Henry hasn't had any female relief in ages."
"Your John Henry?" she asked, confused by the term.
"Yes, my penis. My cock. My pecker."
"Oh dear," she gasped when she had the usage verified. Now Phyllis was extremely worried. Surely the President of the United States couldn't have the same vile urges that other men did. He was supposedly a good and decent man. That's what all the campaign ads said. Did he expect her to satisfy his John Henry? Did he expect her to play with his John Henry and put it into her vagina? She certainly hoped not. She couldn't do such a thing to her husband, Harry. After all, they had been married for only a few years. They were still technically newlyweds. She was quite satisfied with her marriage. She had no intention of straying. She had no reason to cheat.
"A White House assignment for a roll in the sack," Bill said with a smile on his face.
Now Phyllis had a reason to cheat.
Ironically, at that precise moment, she noted that she was feeling slightly aroused. She suspected the reason was because Bill had a tender way of stroking her buttocks. He was quite gentle. He took his time to lightly touch her flesh, and casually play with her posterior globes. She breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed in his embrace. He seemed to have the hands of a gentleman.
Although Phyllis didn't know it, the President also had the hands of a practiced cunthound. He had gotten laid as recently as that morning-by his wife no less. Hillery had spread her legs wide and had ridden him to blissful completion. She had even given him a blow job before he went out to hit the campaign trail. She knew that her husband thought better and spoke more dynamically when his balls had been discharged of their precious cargo.
"I need a woman, Phyllis."
"Oh dear." She felt his arousal pressing against her lower belly and on down to her thighs. There seemed to be a substantial knot down there. It seemed to be knocking on her pubis, asking for entrance to her feminine chamber.
"But... but... Mister President."
"Yes, you have a very lovely butt." Bill rubbed his palms upon it, soothingly, lovingly, and caressingly.
She couldn't help responding to his agile fingers. She was feeling better with every caress.
"The moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you."
"Please Mister President. Don't do this to me."
"Call me Bill."
Phyllis didn't like referring to him by his first name. However, she would do anything to extricate herself from his pawing hands. "Please Bill."
"I know you want it as much as I do."
"Please." Like all women in similar situations, her resistance was rapidly vanishing. The longer he held her, the more he caressed her ass, the more insistently he pressed his manhood against her Mound of Venus, the more eager she was to consummate a relationship with the Chief Executive. It wasn't long before she began to press her pelvis against his, encouraging him.
"That's it baby, rub against me. Show me that you like me."
She did. She could feel her little pussy beginning to pout open. Her cunt was acting like an out-of-control animal. It wanted to go on a feeding frenzy. And she knew what it wanted. It desired cock. And not just any cock either. But Presidential cock.
She began to think of the implications. She would be one of the few reporters in America who had sampled a Presidential penis. Mmmmm. For some odd reason she found that an appetizing idea. She could feel her pussy tubing at that very second.
Once Bill recognized the tell-tale signs of a woman in need, he wasted no time. He pulled her blouse tails out of the waist of her skirt and, reaching up under her shirt and jacket, cupped her breasts, placing his palms beneath them and rubbing the pads of his thumbs along the underside. They felt firm and hot.
"Goodness," she gasped, surprised by the wave of pleasure which rushed over her.
"Now, now. There's no need to worry. It's perfectly natural."
"But Mister President. I've never done anything like this before."
"Neither have I," he lied. Of course, Bill Clinton did it all the time. That was the reason he had entered politics. As a youngster, he had noticed that Washington D.C. had some of the most gorgeous women in the country. Since he was a real cunthound, he naturally aspired to politics, where quality pussy was in abundance.
Taking one hand from a tit, he reached down. He lifted the hem of her skirt. He angled his hand towards the vee of her thighs, which by now were slowly parting, partly from fatigue, partly from her own lust. He made a beeline for her crotch. His hand covered it.
"Ooooh Mister President."
He pushed aside the hem of her panties and stroked her throbbing sex.
"You're moist," he said.
She was embarrassed by the juices flowing out of her. In a soft whisper she replied, "Yes."
"Are you ready?"
"I... I... I..." She couldn't answer. She was much too flustered.
He extended his index finger. Without a second's delay, he pushed it into her.
"Oooh, Bill!" she gasped, puckering her lips as his fingers made progress into her sheath. It was the first time since her marriage that another man had touched her in such a blatantly sexual manner. Ironically, she felt her body responding. In fact, she welcomed the invasion into her womanly folds. To assist him, she angled her pelvis towards him while at the same time sliding her pussy downward onto his invading digit.
"That's the way, babe. That's the way."
"Bill, isn't this what is known as sexual harassment?"
The President cringed. He didn't want to hear a question like that. As Governor, he had already been sued once for sexual harassment. He didn't want it to happen again. He had to think fast. "Oh no. This isn't sexual harassment."
While his finger was inside of her pussy, she asked, "Then what is sexual harassment?"
"It's when a common ordinary citizen makes an unwanted move against a member of the opposite sex. We politicians can't be guilty of sexual harassment."
"But what about Senator Packwood?"
The President snapped his finger. "A perfect example. He's still in office, isn't he?"
"Hey! You're right. Politicians really are above the law!"
"You see. That's why I'm the President. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to have you spread your lovely legs a bit more because I want to get into you much deeper."
"Oh, of course." She was now so aroused, she was willing to assist him in the assault on her beautiful body. Each stroke of her pussy made her feel better. Each tickle of her twat sent her further into orbit.
"Let's lie down," he suggested.
"Should we?"
"Of course we should." To demonstrate his need, he pushed her over to the couch where she fell backwards. Because he was so horny, he sank to his knees and lifted the hem of her skirt all the way to her waist. And to dispense with any encumbrances, he ripped the panties from her body.
"Bill!" she shrieked.
"Keep those legs of yours spread wide. I'm coming home."
And with those words, he zeroed in on her womanly treasure. "It's muff diving time."
"Muff diving? What on earth are you talking about?!"
She learned the answer to that question in only a matter of a nanosecond. The leader of the Free World's tongue was soon moving up and down the length of her slit. She practically had a heart attack when she felt his flesh touch hers. "Oh. Bill! You shouldn't do that!" Even her husband didn't do that!
He stuck his tongue into her slot.
"Oh Bill!"
He licked her liquid essence.
"Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!"
He reached up and pulled her labia wide apart so he could get his tongue more deeply into her.
"Oh Bill! Bill! Bill!"
Phyllis had never known such pleasures could take place. Her body responded with liquid pleasure. She was melting in Bill's embrace. She spread her legs a little wider so that he could have greater access to her choice meadow. She had never conducted an interview like this before. And she had never expected such an event to take place with a President of the United States. She now knew why he was called the Commander-in-Chief.With that tongue of his, women would follow him anywhere.
"Oh Bill! Oh Bill! Oh Bill!"
With each coo, sigh, and gasp, she arched her back a little more and forced her pubis against his face with that much more determination. Now that she knew the joys of cunnilingus, she wanted more.
And more.
And more!
In fact, she wouldn't mind spending the remainder of her days supine and being licked out. She reached down between her thighs. She placed her hands on either side of her pubis. She pulled her labia apart. She wanted him to have the fullest access possible to her womanly charms.
He fulfilled her silent request by making long strokes with his tongue all the way from her perineum to her clitoris. He laved the entire area until it was thoroughly drenched with both her secretions and those of his tongue.
"Oh Bill!"
It didn't take her long to realize that she had been shortchanged in her marriage to Harry. Her husband had never once offered to provide her with such bliss. He was from the old school. Apparently, he thought that cunt-sucking was a taboo practice. She sighed contentedly as she allowed Bill to delve. It might | 3 |
5,270 | Slave Teacher | "Let's see what we've got for you..." and Mark had surely got a lot in store for Karen. He took Karen to his place, where Steve and Amy were already waiting. Steve was lying on the couch sipping a glass of whiskey, and Amy was kneeling naked by his feet obediently.
"Amy, why don't you make your teacher comfortable," Steve said. Amy stood up and walked over to Karen. Meekly, she grabbed the bottom of Karen's polo-shirt and began to pull it up. Karen gasped and grabbed her hands to stop her. "Please, Miss Johnson," Amy whispered, "otherwise we'll both be punished." Karen let go and Amy pulled the polo-shirt off her completely. Then Amy took off her skirt and g-string. When Karen was completely naked, Amy led her by the hand to the center of the living room and laid her down. "No, please..." knowing very well what was going to happen, Karen pleaded. Amy stopped her by grabbing her shoulders and kissed her on the mouth, forcing her tongue in. Gently, Amy kissed her way down Karen's neck to her breasts, and her skillful tongue soon had her teacher trembling with pleasure. She went on kissing and caressing until Karen finally couldn't hold back any longer and closed her eyes and moaned. She spread her legs when Amy's tongue reached her pussy, which was by now glistening with her juices. When Amy climbed on top of her with her pussy facing her face, Karen grabbed her student's smooth teenage ass tentatively, and when Amy began licking her again, she responded by pulling Amy down and began licking her back. Soon the young woman and the teen were licking each other in frenzy, with their bodies squirming uncontrollably.
Steve then came over and handed Amy the strap-on dildo. Amy quickly put it on and positioned herself between Karen's legs. "Go on, Amy. Remember Wednesday?" Mark chuckled, "it's time for you to return the favor!" Amy entered her with one thrust and Karen cried out in abandonment. As Amy began fucking her, she wrapped her legs around Amy and returned Amy's kisses passionately. Driven by Karen's response, Amy fucked her teacher faster and faster until Karen came with a series of spasms. After that, Amy was ordered to take off the strap-on and hand it to Karen, who was still trying to catch her breath. "C'mon slut, suck it, lick it clean!" Steve ordered. Reluctantly, Karen took the dildo in her mouth and tasted her own juices. She felt humiliated, being made to taste her own juices, but, much to her shame and dismay, her body was betraying her, and she could feel her pussy getting wet again. Then it was her turn to put on the dildo and fuck Amy. She obeyed, struggling to get up. When she began fucking the student, the two men cheered, telling her to fuck the girl harder. Karen, on her part, was exhausted after the powerful orgasm, but she still tried hard to keep up the rhythm.
"C'mon, slut! Harder!" Steve shouted. Finally, he got up and took off his belt. Standing behind Karen, he brought the leather belt heavily down on her ass. "I said harder! Slut!" Whack! Whack!
"Ouch! Ah! Ah!" Karen cried out in pain as Steve kept whipping her, while at the same time Amy was moaning with pleasure. Fortunately, Amy came quickly, but by that time there were already more than twenty striking red welts across Karen's ass. Steve stopped whipping and Karen collapsed on top of Amy, exhausted.
"C'mon, slut! We're only just getting started!" said Mark as he and Steve lifted her off Amy. They laid her on the coffee table and took off her strap-on. "No..." she pleaded as Steve and Mark mounted her. Steve entered her pussy with one deep thrust and then held still while Mark eased his cock in her tight asshole slowly. "Oh, oh, oh," Karen moaned as she felt the two cocks throbbing inside her. Then the two men began pumping in and out of her alternatively, matching their strokes. Amy was ordered to straddle Karen's face, and with a squeeze on her breasts, Steve told Karen to lick her student's pussy. Karen quickly complied, her hands reaching up to fondle Amy's breasts. Karen came violently and came again within seconds. After the two men had come inside her, she was totally exhausted. She just lay on the coffee table gasping, her face wet with Amy's juices, and with cum leaking out of her holes. Amy was allowed to get dressed and go home first. Karen on her part had to stay for a humiliating night. She was allowed to shower while the men cooked. While Mark and Steve had their dinner, Karen had to serve them, then she was allowed to have hers, given to her in a bowl placed on the floor. Then she was taken to the bedroom, tied spread-eagled on the bed and fucked by her two colleagues again.
She had barely recovered when Monday came. Much to her relief, Jeff seemed to have been scared off after being caught by Mara, and didn't bother her for the whole day. Even Amy had stopped dropping her pen "by accident", and Karen also found standing in front of her class in a short skirt less humiliating than it used to feel. Finally, the last period was over. Karen was just about to consider it a lucky day when she found Mara waiting for her outside the classroom.
"Hi, Mara," she said hesitantly.
"Hi, slut," Mara answered. "Please!" Karen pleaded, looking around nervously to see if any student had heard that.
"Wh-what do you want?"
"Remember you said that you'd do anything I said? Well, it's time to do it now. Come with me."
Mara led Karen to the biology lab. "Get in," she led Karen into a small room inside the lab where the instruments were kept and closed the door. "Take off your clothes," she ordered. "Please," Karen pleaded, "can we not do this?" "Shut up and do it, slut! Or we can go to see Dr. Jackson right away!" Reluctantly, Karen undressed. When she was all nude except for her high heels, Mara took a piece of rope and tied her hands behind her back. "Please..." Karen pleaded. "Shut up and wait here!" With these words, she went out.
Karen's eyes opened wide in horror when she heard Mara open the door of the lab and a group of students came in. "Hey, Miss Lloyd," one of them called out, "what's the deal? I thought we're going to have a Spanish test." and some other students joined in, grumbling. "You guys just wait and see," said Mara cheerfully as she went back into the small room.
"What do you want?" Karen asked her in panic. "Please, let me get dressed and go! Those are students outside! I can't let them see me like this!" She pleaded, whispering. "Listen, slut!" said Mara as she grabbed Karen's right nipple and twisted it, causing her to wince in pain. "Either you do as I say, or I'll just let them do anything they want! Do what I say, and I won't let them touch you, at least not today." "Oh, God, Mara," Karen whined, "why are you doing this to me?" "Shut up, bitch! Are you going to do it or not?" Sobbing, Karen nodded.
After wiping the tears off Karen's face, Mara opened the door. "Now, guys," she announced, "since we have just learned about the human body last week, I'm going to give you a test today on the vocabulary about the female body..." "Oh, c'mon," one guy shouted, "give us a break!" "You just wait until you see my assistant...Miss Johnson!" said Mara, grinning. Grabbing Karen by her arm, she led the trembling woman out of the storage room. Karen blushed in shame as she saw the students in the room. There were ten of them, all male. She recognized that some were juniors in the school, but luckily none were in her class. Their mouths all dropped open when they saw her walk in, totally naked, then they all looked at each other and started grinning. Karen felt like she was going to die as the students devoured her with their gaze."This is cool, man..." one of the students whispered to the guy sitting next to him.
"Now," said Mara as she put a box on the desk. She opened it so that the students could see that there were some metal clips inside, with little labels attached to each of them. "The test is very simple. All you have to do is to pick up a label and attach it to where it belongs. Now, shall we begin? C'mon, Simon, draw a label from the box. Now don't look..."
The first student came out cheerfully from his seat. He was disappointed when he saw that he had picked "el brazo." "Don't move," Mara whispered to Karen as she stood next to her. Simon hesitated as he looked at the clip in his hand and then at Karen. "C'mon, put it on. That's an easy one." Finally, the teen attached the clip to Karen's arm. Karen gasped as she felt the clip bite onto her flesh. "Tell him that it's correct and thank him." Mara ordered. "That-that is correct, th--thank you," Karen said, blushing with humiliation.
The second student jumped up in excitement when he picked "el culo," and the entire class cheered as he put the clip on. Then another clip on her arm, her belly button, another on her ass, and two on her thighs. The students were aware that there must be something going on between the two teachers, but by now they just couldn't care less. Karen looked at a student in horror when she saw that he had picked "el pezón." The student was a bit hesitant when he saw Karen's reaction. "C'mon, Mike, do you know what it means? You do? Then show us! I think this young man here needs some encouragement, miss Johnson," Mara was really enjoying it. "Y-yeah Mike, put it on...it's okay...oh! oh, oh, thank you..." Karen moaned in pain as the clip's jaws closed upon her nipple, which was by now rock-hard. "Well done!" said Mara, and the entire class cheered. "Now, who's next?" There were still more than a dozen clips in the box. One went to the other nipple, three more to each breast, three more to her ass, and two more to her thighs. Karen was in agony. Her forehead was covered with sweat, and her legs were trembling.
Finally, there were only two clips left in the box. The student who picked one up was puzzled, as he realized that it was linked to the other by an elastic band. The label read "los labios." "What..." he looked at Mara for instructions, puzzled. "Well, what else do you think it is?" "C'mon Kevin!" the other students cheered, "get on with it!" "Oh, God no!" Karen whispered in horror. "Ah!" she gasped in pain as the student reached down between her legs and attached the first clip to her lip, and she winced as the student wound the band behind her back, pulling on her lip, until he reached the other lip. Then he snapped the other clip on. "AH! Ah! Th-thank you," Karen gasped in agony as the student let go of the clip and the elastic band stretched her cuntlips wide open. It was too much for her, and she collapsed onto her knees. "God she's wet!" she heard the student whispered to his friends.
"Okay guys," Mara said, "I think miss Johnson is tired, so that's all for today. Now don't be disappointed," she added, "To give you some incentive to study, miss Johnson will give a special prize to anyone here who gets the highest mark in the exam by the end of this month. Isn't that great? So study hard!"
"Why are you doing this to me, Mara?" Karen asked sobbing when the students were gone, "What have I done?" "Because that's what you deserve, slut!" Mara scolded as she took out a thin leather belt. "Now let's get these clips off you," with these words she began whipping Karen with the belt. "You think you're hot, huh? You like showing off your body to every guy in the school? Well now I'm giving you the chance to do it!" "Ah, ah, ah!" Karen moaned and squirmed in pain as Mara landed blow after blow on her body. "Ah!" She screamed when the belt landed squarely on her pussy. When all the clips had come off, Karen just lay on the floor exhausted, whining. Her breasts, her arms, her ass and her thighs were all covered with red welts. Mara dropped the belt and admired her work, running her hand along Karen's body. "So you're wet!" she sneered, "slut!" "Pl...please..." Karen pleaded in a barely audible voice, "can I go now?" "Okay," said Mara as she untied her, "I guess that's enough for today. But I ain't done with you yet, slut! Now get dressed and get the hell out of here!""Oh, oh, oh," Karen moaned, "Please stop!" she pleaded. "Here, make me hard again!" said Jeff as he pressed his semi-hard cock into her mouth. Karen sucked him obediently until he was hard again. Then, after Jeff had positioned himself between her legs, she guided him into her as he ordered. Jeff felt like he was in one of his wet dreams. Not only was he fucking a woman for the first time, he was actually fucking his gorgeous, sexy teacher! He grabbed her hips and began pumping her in a frenzy, and soon had Karen moaning and squirming under him again. As Karen moaned louder and louder, he couldn't hold back any longer and emptied his balls into her tight, hot pussy.
"Hmm...that's great, Miss Johnson," said Jeff as he collapsed on top of her.
The two of them remained in the storeroom until that evening, and when Karen returned to school the next day, she had barely recovered from the exhaustion. Jeff seemed to have an insatiable interest in her body. After resting for a while, he had her suck him hard so that he could fuck her again. When he could no longer get a hard-on, he fondled and fingered her just to watch her come. Karen could hardly remember how many times she had come, all she could recall was that Jeff's hand was all wet with her juices in the end, and she had to lick it clean. She almost laughed when she heard that the boy had called in sick the next day. | 3 |
5,277 | Warren: A Friday Night | "Like it, eh, cunt?" he grunted, nuzzling her neck. "Like my prick in your ass, eh?"
"Yes," she whimpered. "Oh god yes!"
Warren began to concentrate on holding off his climax. He listened intently to Gail's babbling and torrent of pleas and promises.
"Oh baby, you're so good, I'll do anything for you . . . I want to give you everything . . . please? Please? I want to be a little pervert for you, a slut, a complete slut . . . I want you to spank me, to whip me properly, whip me all over . . . Will you do that? Whip me hard?"
Warren assures her he has every intention of doing just that. Then realizing he can't hold off any longer, he begins to berate her, hoping it will drive her completely over the edge.
"Come on you cunt, that's what you are, a fucking sniveling little ass sucking, cunt fisting, cocksucker who'll blow anyone I tell you to. Ain't that right, baby?"
"Oh, yeah, Warren. Oh, yeah. I'll suck anything you put in front of me. Oh baby, keep that prick moving like that . . . I'm . . . coming again. Oh, Christ . . . it's so fucking good . . . I never want it to stop . . . Oh, God . . . Oh, God!"
Warren made up his mind to finish with a flourish. He unflexed his buttocks and slowly slid his brown-flaked prick out. Pausing for a fraction of a second, he sighed before skewering her anus again. Gail moaned thickly, her body swaying and undulating erotically under his. His hands glided up to her breasts and grasped her hard nipples and squeezed hard, as he continued to slide out and in. Gail convulsed and spasmed still embedded on his throbbing prick.
"Did you mean what you just said, baby?" he whispered into her ear.
"Huh?" she responded, almost delirious with pleasure.
"You know, about sucking anything I put in front of you."
"You bet your ass I will," she answered with a lewd and obscene laugh. With that, Warren withdrew his cock from her ass with a loud swooshing, sucking sound and presented it to her mouth.
"Can . . . can . . . I . . ."
"Can you what, bitch, you fucking whore, are you gonna deny you just said you'd suck anything I put in front of you?" he screamed, the veins in his neck bulged. A frightened Karen quickly withdrew her finger from his ass, and a cowering Gail took his slimy prick between two fingers and guided it into her mouth.
"Ummmph!" she gulped as Warren pumped twice and began to ejaculate into Gail's mouth. "Don't swallow it!" he told her, "hold it, I've got a surprise for you, baby." Reaching behind him, Warren grasped Karen by the arm and gently pulled her in front of Gail.
A shocked Gail almost spit his sperm out.
"Waaas disss? Waa . . . ren?"
"Don't spill it and don't swallow it, Gail," he admonished."Jeez," and her voice choked up, "it won't be long at this rate."
Warren looked at Karen, who was licking her own nipple, and winked back at her.
"I'm going as slow as I can, baby," he said softly. "Would you like me to blindfold you? And then after you cum this time, I'll spank you. You've been a bad girl today, haven't you?"
"A blindfold?"
"Yeah, it adds to the excitement," he said to reassure her.
"I haven't been spanked in a long time. You won't hurt me, will you?"
"No. In fact, I'll give you a safe word. If you want me to stop, just say 'yellow.'"
"Yellow. And you'll stop?"
"That's right, and Karen will make sure I do, won't you?"
"Of course I will. Don't worry, Gail, it will go just fine."
Karen had the blindfold in her hand and tied it around Gail's face. Then Warren turned Gail onto her stomach and used two Velcro ties to secure her hands to the headboard. Before she could register a protest, he did the same to her legs.
"What... why tie me up?" She cried.
"Just so you don't move too much. This is gonna hurt a bit, you know."
Warren slid a hand under her belly and resumed finger-fucking her moist pussy. Gail scrunched her butt as high as she could to permit his hand to roam.
"Oooooo yes, I love that. But, baby... don't hurt me too much, please?"
"No, baby, nice and easy. Remember your safe word." And he glanced at Karen and was amused to find her squeezing her breasts together and pulling on her nipples, stretching them out and then sucking on them.
He sat on the edge of the bed admiring Gail's firm cheeks, before asking, "Have you done this before, Gail?"
"No, no, never. But I've thought about it a lot."
Warren smiled, impressed with her eagerness, and stroked her cheeks languidly, almost caressing them. He looked over to Karen and raised his arm in preparation to delivering the first smack.
Karen is frantically humping her fingers, and the wet, slurping sound carries over to Gail, causing her to ask with some alarm, "What...What's going on there? What's that noise?"
"Karen's getting a little carried away with herself," he said soothingly, "and she's gonna suck me while I do you." He was smiling at Karen, whose eyes were shut. Warren lowered his hand and instead of a smack, he began exploring Gail's sopping wet cunt. Gail moaned in anticipation.
"I... I... promise to be a real good girl... real good..." she whimpered, as she bit her lip. She's extremely wet, and is unconsciously humping up and down with her hips, eager for something, anything.
Warren suddenly slapped her right cheek hard, then the left. He continued alternating the spanking until a dozen smacks were delivered. Then he paused. Gail was grimacing with the pain, but hadn't cried out.
"How about another round, Gail? Are you up for it?"
"Oh, yes please!" she responded quickly. "Tell me what Karen's doing?"
"Is Karen helping you get excited?" He crooned into her ear as he slid two fingers inside her and moved them in a circular fashion.
"Oh... Oh, God! Oooooh, Oh, it's so good. Please, please... I'm, oh, am I going to come?" Gail cried out in astonishment, as Warren's hand starting whacking her again.
"Yessssssssss! I... is... she coming from watching... me?
"Are you coming, Karen?" Warren asked in a hoarse voice. Karen never opened her eyes, but responded as she came.
"Nauggggh! Naugggggh! Aaaah! F... F... Fuck yeah!" Karen yelled loudly. "Ooooooh yeah! This is a great cum! T... Thh... Thank... you Gail honey!"
That sent Gail over the top and humping up and down, in rhythm with his smacks she too started coming.
"Oooooooh Christ! I... I... don... don't believe this! I... Can't cum like this! It's too fucking powerful!" Still, Gail shifted her position to present her ass for another round of smacks, letting out a long moan filled with lust and craving.
Karen's lying next to her on the bed, legs spread wide apart and panting, pleading incoherently, whimpering, "Yes, yes..."
Warren leaned over Karen and kissed her softly on the mouth, prompting her back to reality.
"Ummm," she sighed.
"I think Gail's ready for you now, baby," he said, his voice barely audible.
"Uhhhh," she moaned quietly, "Ohhhh yes, uhhh, ohhhh, God yes! Thank you Warren."
Karen reached over and freed Gail's hands and legs. Then she ran her fingers around behind Gail's head, removing the blindfold and tossing it aside. Karen put both hands on Gail's head, tangling her hair in her fingers and eventually pulled Gail's mouth to hers. She kissed Gail very deeply for some minutes. When they pulled back, Gail was rapidly changing her opinion on bisexual behavior.
"Oooooh, wow! That was soooo nice. Karen, please... kiss me again," she asked plaintively.
Almost by instinct, Gail's hips began moving in a bucking motion, and she discovered she was now rubbing her very wet cunt against Warren's thigh, soaking his leg thoroughly, pulling it toward her in such a way that it appeared she was trying to swallow him with her sex. Gail felt another orgasm approaching. As she let loose an anticipatory guttural scream, she heard Karen off in the distance saying, "She's coming again, Warren," and felt Karen place the tip of her index finger against her anus.
Karen's other hand went immediately to Gail's now slightly swollen lips, lingering here and there as she stroked them. She knew how sensitive they were from all that had preceded. Gail's eyes were closed and she was breathing rapidly as her hands clenched the sheet tightly, pulling it from its mooring around the mattress.
Warren had gotten up and was dressing.
"Are you okay, baby?" Karen asked.
Gail nodded, and Karen slid a fingertip inside the now very red, swollen lips. Gail opened her eyes, looked up and locked eyes with Karen. The finger slowly slid into her cunt to its full length, and fluttered. Gail groaned.
"Muuuuuhh! Muuuh... pussy!" She wailed.
"What about your pussy, baby?" Karen crooned and took a nipple into her mouth.
"Aughhhhh!" Gail moaned joyously. This delightful sensation caused her hips to buck again as she strove to compel Karen's finger in deeper. Karen, evidently very knowledgeable in this area, withdrew it a bit. And Gail's hips settled back down, but she cried out in longing at its withdrawal.
Karen reverted to stroking and rubbing, going about this much longer than necessary.
Warren finished dressing, checked on the girls again and quietly left the apartment.
Gail's breath was coming in short gasps and her belly tightened as Karen's fingers found all her hot spots. Her pussy had never felt this sensitive before. Karen's manipulation had every nerve in her pussy and stomach screaming. She was verging on combustion.
Gail groaned and writhed, still clutching the sheet tightly in her hands.
"Would you like me to stop," Karen teased quietly, her fingers still busy, sensing Gail's need to be finished off.
"No. That feels wonderful." Gail snorted, as she continued to gasp for air. Karen slid two of her long, carefully polished fingers deep into the inflamed cunt. She brought exquisite delight to Gail as she very slowly pumped them in and then just as slowly, drew them out and watched the strong emotions of lust flicker across Gail's face.
Karen casually leaned down and let her hot tongue run up and down the very swollen outer lips. Gail whooped at the touch of the tongue and groaned loudly.
"My God, that's good. Oh, Oh."
Karen continued to lick. Gail continued to groan. This continued for some time.
"I want to eat you," Gail moaned. "I want to taste your cunt, Karen... please?"
"Yes, oh... yes... eat me Gail. Put your tongue in me." She was almost coming herself as Gail unleashed this uninhibited display of feminine arousal. Gail swiveled around and rearranged Karen as she leaned back resting her weight on one arm. Gail bent Karen's leg so that it would help support her and pushed the other out to the side, thereby presenting her cunt as a tempting target. Karen stared at her, amazed at the manipulation and then it was her turn to gasp, as Gail took Karen's hand and had her start to finger herself. This Karen did, all too gladly. Then without warning, Gail drove her face down onto Karen's cunt and started lapping like a dog. Her groans of passion were muffled deep within Karen's cunt.
As their lovemaking progressed, Gail learned of a repressed desire of her own, a fondness for Karen's long, thick, excited, erect nipples. And, although she tensed up when Karen cupped and then squeezed her breasts, she found it so pleasing she relaxed and discovered herself kissing Karen again and again. Slowly and deeply, probing and intensifying the heat. The heat that had both girls ravaging the other's pussies using the classic 69 position when Gail's climax hit. And Gail nearly threw the two of them off the bed with its force, as it flashed from her lower abdomen, then through the lower part of her body and ended in her toes.
Karen followed seconds later, coming with an equally violent force.
Exhausted and sweaty now, Gail collapsed in a breathy heap on the bed, throwing her arms over her head. As her breathing returned to normal, Karen kissed her softly on the lips, lingering over the tip of her tongue as if she were memorizing every taste bud, and said, "I like the way you change your mind."
"Ummmmmm," Gail sighed, "Glad I did. Hey! Where's Warren?"
"Oh, baby," Karen cooed, "we won't be needing him for a while, will we?"
They held each other tight as they giggled into each other's ear.http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq | 3 |
5,320 | Peeler RP: Swing Man - Part 5 | "Nikki?" he said softly, stepping out behind her. He saw her start, but she kept standing the way she was. "What are you doing out here, baby?"
He moved right up behind her.
Nikki turned her head slightly around.
"If I said I was waiting for you, would that be the right answer?"
"That's just the answer I was hoping for," Jonas said as he put his hands on her shoulders and began massaging them. She tilted her head to the right and rubbed her cheek on the top of his kneading hand, then rubbed her face on it.
Her left hand reached up and grabbed the fingers of his left hand, pulling his hand over her shoulder and then bending his arm out to wrap around her, her hand directing his palm onto her T-shirt right over her incredible soft tit. As he squeezed a handful of her young teat, he leaned over her, bringing his face against hers after she took her cheek off his hand.
"Nikki," he whispered and began kissing her ear, his right hand swooping down her front to collect her other tit through the nightshirt.
Jonas felt her T-shirt-covered ass grind back at his naked crotch, and her hands reached back to feel his legs, grip his thighs, and pull him against her slender derriere.
"Yessss, Daddy, yes," Nikki encouraged him, and he slid his left hand down across her belly, down between her legs, the T-shirt in the way, his hand found the bottom lip of the fabric and his fingers reached under and up.
Both of them sucked in their breath when his fingers snaked into her silky snatch and played over her neat cuntal folds. Her crotch went forward into his fingers, and her right hand reached between their bodies, his daughter's hand felt for and grabbed his awakening member. He leaned his upper body back, his right hand going back to her shoulder as she wantonly stroked his dick, her palm hot and soft as she worked him to near erection in about twenty seconds."You sound like you were pretty sure of yourself," Jonas said, his right hand reaching up to smooth back her hair.
"I would have got you eventually. You're no saint."
"No, I'm far from that."
"Hmmmmm...and I'm so glad. Saints are so boring! I can feel that you're not done.....let's go inside." Nikki led the way back through the open French door into her dimly lit bedroom.
Nikki walked to the nearest nightstand by the bed and turned the knob at the base of the lamp. Both lamps on either nightstand came on, bathing her bed with a warm yellow light.
Actually, it wasn't really 'her' bed; the bedroom they were in was the guest room usually and the decor, white lacquered bed suite and dressers, matched that of her parents' bedroom, with the exception that the bed was a queen size.
'If Mother knew what we were going to do in the room she decorated...' Nikki smiled at the turn of events in their family - Mother had thrown Dad away and she had scooped him up.
She turned and looked at her father. He was standing a few feet away and her eyes appraised his body up close. She had never slept with anyone near his age and she was impressed by the mature, solid look of his body. His erection was drooping but she'd take care of that.
It occurred to her that turning on the lights may have been a mistake. Now they were in the light, away from the make-believe world of the dark deck and the ocean's surf. It was a reality check.
'Take the initiative, Nikki.'
She crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it up and over her head. She slowly dropped it at her feet, watching her father's eyes feast on her nude body.
First, they lingered on her tits; wide-spread, sloping, apple-sized beauties with half-dollar sized aureole and small stiff nipples.
Then, they moved down her flat stomach; Nikki never worked out but her stomach had a slight washboard look to it and she sucked it in a little more to accentuate the illusion.
Finally, her father's eyes went down to the matted mons of her womanhood; a dark tangle of semi-transparent pubes.
"You're beautiful, Nikki," her father said as she walked up to him and slid her arms around his waist. His hands moved around to hold her upper back as she looked up at him lovingly. She felt so safe on his arms.
She dropped her head and began kissing his hairy chest, moving her mouth around, running her tongue onto each of his nipples in turn.
"MMmmmmm, that feels good," her father said softly, his hands running up under her hair to hold her neck and the back of her head. Nikki began sucking on his nipples, knowing that it felt good whether you were a man or a woman. She ground her belly against his cock, pressing the drooping member downward. It flexed with life, wanting to stand up straight and tall again.
Her father's hands moved to the sides of her face and pushed her head backward, pulling her lips from his left nipple. Fingers in her hair pulled her head back and his mouth came down on hers in more than a fatherly kiss. It felt so strange to be kissing her own father but she let him drive his tongue into her mouth, sucked and nipped at it like she would do for any other of her lovers.
'I shouldn't have doubted him....he's not having any second thoughts,' Nikki realized. 'He wants to fuck me again in the worst way.'
Her right hand slid between them and swung his hefty, near-erect cock outward and then up, thrilling at the way it immediately pulsed to rock-hard status.
Her father broke their kiss and began walking her backward toward the bed.
"You're killing me, baby," he grunted as she jerked on his prick, "Sit down on the bed."
Nikki did as he ordered, letting go of his erection. He remained standing looking down at her for a second.
'He's going to ask me to suck his dick!' Nikki thought as her eyes dropped down to his tumescent manhood, hovering just a foot away from her face. She'd do it for him willingly - sucking cock always turned her on and there would be the added thrill of incest.
But he had other ideas. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of her and pushed her thighs open. Salaciously, Nikki dropped back on her elbows to further expose the underside of her crotch to her excited parent. His strong hands gripped her hips above her legs and pulled her lap to the edge of the bed. Nikki knew what was coming.
"Want a taste, Dad?" she asked shamefully.
"Yeah, I want to suck on my baby's pussy!" he said and then almost immediately make a chuckling noise. "That sounds terrible, doesn't it?"
"God, no! I want to do everything with you," Nikki promised. "Please lick me......eat me."
Nikki saw any doubts of his fly away and her father lowered his face in her lap. She watched him press his lips in the triangular patch of her pubic hair above her pussy. He left it there for several seconds and she could feel him breathing strongly through his nose, savoring the moment. Then, he moved his lips down to the puffy folds at the top of her wrinkled cleft and kissed them.
Pulling his mouth off her, he ran his hands down in her lap and used his thumbs to peel back the covering of her clit. Nikki licked her lips in anticipation as he blew air across the pea-sized prominence. His tongue flicked out and lapped at the sensitive bundle, slowly at first, and then in rapid fashion.
"Mmmmmmmmm," Nikki murmured. "MmmmmmHhhhhmmmmm!"
Spreading her legs for her father's tongue had her juiced again to the max...it was better than spreading them for Tori's tongue...anyone's tongue! This man had raised her and now he was licking her!
Her father squashed his mouth on the pink lining surrounding her erect clitoris and he sucked on it, sending shivers through Nikki's nervous system.
"OOoooooooMMmmmhhhhhmmm," she yelped and he looked up into her eyes. Remaining on her elbows so she could watch, Nikki raised her hands from the bed to squeeze her tits, pushing them to the center of her chest to show her father how they moved all around.
Dad kept up his attack on her pussy and she wiggled her furry furrow on his lips, incestuous lust coursing through both of them. His lips left her ravaged clitty and moved lower, his tongue sliding down her slit like a letter opener, right down to the entrance of her pussy.
"Oh, Daddy......uuuhhhhhh....right there.....UUUHHHHHHhhHHH!" Nikki whimpered as he sent his stiffened tongue into her pussyhole as deep as he could work it. Her legs tried to snap closed at the forbidden act but her father's hands pushed them back wide as he began tongue-fucking her.
"THAT'SIT....MMMMMMMHHHMMMMM....OOOOHHHHH!" Nikki threw her right hand on top of her father's head and humped her cunt on his tongue...once...twice...and then her loins exploded, "GGGGAAAA!!!"
Her other hand grabbed his head and she fell back on the bed, throwing her crescending crotch at his slurping mouth. From a faraway place, she felt him sucking and sucking on her oily discharge like wine.
Minutes later, she was calmed down, holding her father's head as he kissed her belly. Nikki brought her head off the bed and looked down her reclining body to watch his mouth explore more of her body.
'God, he turns me on!' Nikki declared to herself as her father planted another soft kiss on her bellybutton and then tried to work his tongue into that as well.
"Dad, I think I love you," Nikki cooed at the ticklish feeling.
He stopped his oral ministrations and looked up her sexy body as he slid his hands slowly up her sides.
"You don't love me.....not like that....." His hands collected her fanned breasts and massaged them, "...you'll meet some guy in a few years and get married...." His hands went into her armpits and began pushing her back on the bed as he raised up, "...like any other ordinary girl..." He moved on the bed with her, over her as she instinctively spread her legs for him, his weight coming down on her, "...but until then.." he whispered in her ear as she felt the spongy head of his prick bump against the thin area of skin between her pussy and asshole, "...you're all mine."
Nikki gasped as he found her saliva-slick notch and he filled her again with his hard cock. Her pussy trembled around his sinking member after the two strong orgasms she'd already had. She threw her arms around his neck as he began to screw her hard.
"Yeesssss.....mmmhhhhmmm...OH...OH....UHHH...uuuhh...oooh...OOOH....uuhhhh....nnnnngg....OHDAD....sssss...hhhssss...OOH!"
'I love Nikki's young, tight pussy!' Jonas wanted to shout so loud that the neighbors would hear. He'd never enjoyed fucking any woman as much as he was his own daughter; she was the one woman he would never grow tired of sexually - the tabooness would always be exciting.
Her sleek body felt so good under him as he jammed his hands under her ass, transferring most of his weight into his shoulders, the extra heaviness pinning her to the bed.
With handfuls of her sexy ass, he changed his thrusts by moving his hips in circles like a Ferris wheel. He pumped into her going downward and then lifted her whole crotch with the upward roll of his hips. Nikki seemed to love that.
"Oooohh....you're fucking....me so good...OHH...OOHHH...UUUHHH," she panted with each thrust. Nikki was a very vocal lover and it just lit the fire under him.
'Coming's going to be so good,' he thought giddily. Then he remembered that he didn't know if it would be safe. His lust had almost consumed him.
He sunk his erection in her and raised himself up on his arms. Nikki's hands remained around his neck as they looked at each other.
"Baby, what kind of birth control do you use?" he asked, sincerely not knowing.
"I'm on the Pill, of course," Nikki replied, rubbing his neck.
"Great!" he replied, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.
"Yeah, Dad...you can come in me!" Nikki said hotly "Is that what you wanted to know?...."Well, it's all right...you can shoot it way up inside me!"
Jonas's dick throbbed at Nikki's lewd invitation.
"Oh, baby, when you talk that way!..."
"I can't wait to feel it, Dad...I saw how big you came in Carmen...do me just like that!...come on!"
"I'm going to, Nikki," he swore as he began fucking her again. He wasn't going to last long with the green light to fill her belly with his seed. He looked down between their bodies and saw his cock clearly for the first time as it knifed between her spread pussy lips.
'Jesus, look at that...that's fucking obscene!' his mind shouted.
His daughter's hands slid down his chest and wrapped around his back, then moved lower to grip his churning ass.
"OOOHYEAAHH...GIVE IT TO ME!" Nikki wailed at him now, "OH..UHH...DOITDAD...UUUHHHH....COMEINME...COMEINME!"
Jonas felt himself going over the edge...right into the abyss.
"UUNGGGHHHH...ARRRGGGGGHHHH!" he groaned as his buried cock spat the first long rope of his cum in his daughter, his fingers digging into the bedspread on either side of her head. His vision crossed and swam before his eyes as following spurts, more like little wellings, slowly deposited the rest of his ball load all up and down the lining of Nikki's sweet cunt as he worked his softening prick in and out, in and out.
"Mmmmmm...I can feel it," Nikki said softly and he looked at her flushed face. "It feels wild, Dad."
Jonas didn't know what to say beyond that...it was mind-blowing. He lowered himself down and kissed her several times, nibbling at her lips in post-orgasmic serenity.
Jonas woke up alone in his bed around 9 A.M. the next morning. He had forgotten to pull the curtains before he retired the night before and now bright Saturday sunlight lit the room.
Jonas lay there with his eyes closed for several minutes, remembering the night before. Sticking it in her out on the deck, eating her until she came again and then getting his own rocks off between her young legs...God, he felt ten years younger.
She was just amazing. Sexually, she was far more developed than others her age but she still had that tight 20 year old body. He felt no regrets about partaking in what she had offered.
He turned over in the bed and swore he could smell Nikki's scent on the pillow. She had wanted to sleep with him in his bed, after they had both cleaned up a bit. She'd felt so good, laying beside him.
'I wonder if she's still here?' Jonas thought. Nikki was not known for rising early on a weekend and they had been up late.
He swung his legs out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He took a much needed piss and brushed his hair and mustache.
"You look pretty good this morning, you old lecher," he said to his 41 year old reflection and went back into the bedroom to dress. He decided on his usual beach house garb - underwear and a pair of shorts. Most days that was all you needed unless a marine layer was socking in the coast.
Whistling 'It Never Rains in Southern California', he headed toward the main part of the house.
Walking through the living room, he could smell hot coffee.
'She is here...good.'
He entered the kitchen to find it empty. The coffee sounded real good. He decided to search for his daughter after he poured himself a cup. As he was getting a cup from the cupboard, he looked out the kitchen window and spotted the top of Nikki's head. She was sitting on the bench under the window. He rapped on the pane and she stood up, gave him a wave and started for the doors to the living room.
Jonas poured his cup of coffee and turned around to find Nikki standing in the kitchen doorway.
"Good morning...Daddy," Nikki said oh-so-innocently and then chuckled at their little secret. She was wearing a terry cloth robe, cinched at the waist; it looked too big on her. She'd pinned most of her hair up in the back, leaving a long lock of hair hanging down either side of her face. She was holding her own coffee cup.
"Well, good morning to you, darling daughter," he played along, leaning back against the counter and sipping his coffee.
She walked up to him, stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Then she pulled away and leaned against the sink area.
"Like my robe?" she said, holding out her arms.
"That's your mother's robe," Jonas observed and Nikki shook her head.
"No, Daddy...this robe belongs to the woman of the house." Nikki's inference was obvious; she was sharing his bed, so she was the new woman of the house. Jonas got the idea that Nikki got a kick out of taking the place of her mother.
"You sure earned it last night," he complimented her, walking past her and tapping a finger on her lips. She made a playful biting motion at it before following him into the living room.
He sat on the couch and she dropped into an easy chair, folding a leg underneath her.
"Look like a good day out there?" he asked.
"Everyday is going to be good from now on," she promised.
"Are you planning to answer every question with a little twist?"
Nikki laughed. "All right, I'll stop...I'm still high from last night!"
"You know we irrevocably changed our relationship last night..." Jonas began, getting ready to lay down some ground rules for any further forbidden fornication. They were playing with fire and he had to impress that on her.
"Not that we had much of a relationship before this," Nikki observed.
"OUCH!" Jonas acted hurt, putting a hand on his chest. "That hurt."
"Well, come on, Dad," Nikki continued, "The last 3 or 4 years, you've been sort of distant...working late a lot...maybe entertaining other women according to mother," she smiled at the dig.
"I'm sorry, baby," Jonas said sincerely.
"Dad, you should thank your lucky stars...if we had had a real father-daughter relationship, I wouldn't have proposed what happened last night."
"In that case, I'm glad I ignored you," Jonas said tongue-in-cheek.
Nikki got up and moved to sit beside him. Just then, a faint beeping sound came from her purse which sat on the coffee table.
"My beeper," she explained, opening her purse and turning off the device. She looked at the end of it to see what call back number was displayed. "It's Tori."
"Here you go," Jonas said, picking up the cordless handset from the base beside the couch.
Nikki sat beside him, facing him and dialed Tori.
"Hi, Tori...what did you tell her?...O.K., that was good...how long ago did she call?...all right, thanks...I can't talk right now...because!" She smiled at him. "I'll talk to you later."
She turned the handset off.
"What was that about?" Jonas asked.
Nikki tapped the end of the headset's antenna against her mouth, obviously in thought.
"O.K., I'm going to tell you but you can't get mad...I told Mom I was staying at Tori's last night."
"I think I can forgive you that," Jonas said, running his finger along her jawline. He preferred to remember her flat on her back, receiving his hard staff in her fabulous pussy - that, after all, had been the end result of her little white lie.
"Thanks," she said, moving her foot against his left shin, rubbing it. "I need to call Mom. She's looking for me."
"Sure, go ahead."
Nikki dialed home and began talking to his soon-to-be-ex-wife.
"Hi, Mom! Tori said you called...I'll probably be home later this afternoon...I don't know, 4 or 5 o'clock maybe...we can still do something later...where am I?"
Nikki looked at him, unsure what she should say. Jonas motioned that she should tell her she was there.
"I'm heading out to see Dad...he is still my father. I know you guys are upset at each other...Mom, listen. I'm just going to stop in and say hello, O.K.? I'll be home around noon, how's that?...we'll go shopping...great, I'll see you then. Bye."
Nikki handed the handset back to him.
"Mom didn't like the fact that I was coming to see you."
"Nikki, she's going to be like that for a long time."
"It's going to be hard to slip out here as much as I want to," Nikki said, rubbing her hand on his hairy chest.
"I'm sure you'll find a way...there is something you need to find out for me. We've got to be sure that she's not having me watched anymore."
"Eeeewwww, you're right." Nikki saw the danger in that.
"It may be nothing to worry about...your mother would just think you were here visiting. How could she ever imagine what we are really going to be doing out here?" Jonas stroked her neck as he thought about all her future visits, all those future fuck sessions.
"Now you're doing it!" Nikki pointed out.
"I couldn't resist it...you excite your old man."
"You're hardly old. I do have something to tell you that might get you more excited...I was thinking about it when I was sitting outside."
"I'm all ears," Jonas said.
"It involves Tori...me and her are more than best friends...I sorta seduced her a few years ago!"
Jonas perked up at that. Every man just loves to watch two girls get it on...all those legs and asses and tits and tongues rolling around. One of his favorite things had been sneaking down to the Cheetah club to watch some girl-girl action and try to pick up one of the dancers.
"Were you two experimenting a little? Just curious?"
"Not me...I got into it at college. But it was Tori's first time."
"No wonder your grades were so bad," Jonas observed. "OOOWW!"
Nikki had pulled on his chest hairs.
"Boy, I thought you'd be more surprised than this!" Nikki said.
"I'm really only surprised at your choice...Tori's just sort of, I don't know, uh, homely?"
"Dad, when's the last time you've seen Tori?" Jonas guessed it may have been maybe two years and he told her so. "Then, you haven't seen the new Tori...she's dropped a lot of weight, cut her hair short...and she grew." Nikki held her hands in front of her chest in a Dolly Parton parody."I can't believe Tori's changed that much," he said.
"You'll see...the reason I brought it up is that I'd like to have Tori over....maybe you'd like to watch us."
"Like from a closet?" Jonas asked, slightly intrigued. The threat of Tori finding out about him and Nikki really put a damper on his arousal.
"No, silly....we're naked, you're naked....and then we have a little audience participation at the end."
Now, that surprised Jonas; that she would even consider telling Tori about their incestuous affair because that was what she was proposing.
"Nikki, absolutely not! You can not tell anyone about us. Do you understand what could happen to me?...to us?" Jonas scolded her for even dreaming up such a crazy idea. | 5 |
5,329 | Janene's Wishes | "So, you say you're granting me three wishes, huh?" asked the young sales girl with a disbelieving smile.
Derek had spotted the girl a few moments ago. He scanned her mind and saw she was only sixteen years old. The girl was very pretty and very sure of herself. She wore her blond hair long, and her blue eyes sparkled when the light reflected off of them. A further scan told him she was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted. She was well aware of the effect her beauty had on people, and she played it to her advantage all the time. It was these types of girls that always sparked Derek's interest. It wasn't that he had a problem with girls like this. In fact, he thought more power to them. It's just that he thought he should see if there was a way he could even out the playing field to some degree.
Derek scanned the rest of the store to find she was one of five employees there. Customer-wise, it was slow. Before Derek approached her, he quickly altered his appearance. He stole into her mind to find the type of boy that she would find attractive, and assumed his appearance. He did this so as not to alarm her. He walked up to her and smiled. This was enough just to get the conversation going. Of course, after a few exchanges, he started on the topic of wish granting. "Three wishes... anything you want."
Janene smiled at the boy. She'd heard her share of lines, but this, she had to admit, was original. Something about him was real cute, and she found herself responding to him. "Well, are there any stipulations or rules that govern these wishes? Everything I've ever read makes reference to things you can't wish for... Is this the case with your wishes?"
"No, most definitely not... you can wish for anything you want. I'm not a genie. Maybe they have those types of rules, but I don't. You can wish for wealth, happiness, a new sports car, a new body, a lover... anything." Janene blushed at the word 'lover'. The boy added, "I'll tell you what I'll do for you. I'll give you a free sample. This way you can waste one and still have your three left."
Janene was surprised she turned red at the word 'lover'. Sure, she found the boy attractive, but she still couldn't understand why a mere word made her blush. Janene was also surprised he continued this wish-granting monologue. Janene's attention was then drawn to a customer coming in just then. She looked like she was in college. Janene could see the girl was very pretty and sported a set of huge breasts which pushed provocatively against her tight sweatshirt. Janene always wondered how much sexier she'd look if she were bigger than her average size "B" cup. Janene smiled and figured that she would end this game real quick, plus make the boy turn red himself in the process. This would be his opportunity to put up or shut up. "Okay, you see that girl over there?"
Derek continued monitoring Janene's mind and could see what she was going to wish. He also could see the girl Janene indicated, clearly inside his mind. But he turned for Janene's benefit and nodded 'yes'. Janene then wished, "I wish that I possessed a pair of tits as equally as big and beautiful as the girl I'm looking at." Instead of making the boy blush, Janene found herself blushing. That went well. At least she was putting a stop to this charade.
"Done," replied Derek with a smile.
"Just like that! How do I know...WHAT!" Janene screamed as she felt her tits all of a sudden start to expand. Quickly they filled and strained against her bra. Janene's eyes were as wide as could be as her hands tried to contain each growing breast! "My...my...tits...what did you do!?!"
"You wished for big beautiful tits like the girl over there, and that is what I'm giving you," replied Derek.
Janene quickly realized that her bra was making this transformation painful, and she ducked down underneath the counter. Janene was thankful that her snaps were in front, and she quickly unbuttoned her shirt and unsnapped her bra. Janene's new boobs sprung free while still continuing to grow! They didn't stop until they looked as big as beach balls! Janene had to take her shirt off for a second to completely get out of her bra, and then when she buttoned back up, her shirt looked ridiculous on her.
Janene stood back up and saw the boy still standing there. "I...I...can't believe this! I need some clothes! Hurry, get me something to cover...these...these...oh my god!"
"Do you wish for clothes?"
"Yes...Yes...I wish that I was wearing clothes that would fit my new figure!"
Janene felt a flow of air circle around her, and then quite instantly, her shirt disappeared and was replaced with a tight-fitting sweatshirt... strangely, while this happened, she heard a shriek at the back of the store. Janene peeked inside the top of her sweatshirt and noticed she was now wearing a bra that fit. The shriek turned into a scream, and when she looked up to see what the commotion was, the pretty college-aged girl she saw earlier was stark naked from the waist up, and holding her big boobs as she ran out of the store!
"Ho...How...is this possible?"
"Well, Janene, you have two wishes left. I suggest you use them wisely."
Janene looked back at the boy in confusion. Everything was happening so fast. She still couldn't get over the size of her new tits and wondered if she was dreaming the whole thing. Janene brought her hands up to them again and pushed them up from underneath. They were huge! Could she ever get used to tits this big? Then she thought, why not wish for them to feel good to her rather than alien globs of flesh like they felt like now. "Okay...I...I'm...ah...ummm...okay...I wish that my boobs felt natural and real good to me. Instead of feeling strange on me, I loved the feel of them."
Derek again smiled, and again responded, "Done."
Janene felt a strange sensation flood each tit, centering on her nipples. In her movement, her nipples rubbed against her bra, and she felt the feelings shoot straight to her groin...God! The feeling was so intense! Janene all of a sudden felt hornier than she had ever been in her life, and the feelings all generated from her beautiful huge tits! Janene looked at the boy with a sexy smile. Then she grabbed his hand and ran to the store's restroom. She quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. Janene was feeling hornier and hornier by the second and tore off her sweatshirt. She unsnapped her new sized 38DD bra and began massaging her tits passionately. She took Derek's hands and placed them where hers were and couldn't get enough of the feelings that flooded her body. Janene cried out when Derek pinched her nipples and found herself quickly pulling down her jeans and panties. "Mmmmm...I...I...need you soooooooo baaaaaaaaddd." Janene kneeled down to unzip Derek's zipper, pulling free a rather large-looking dick. Janene, who had never seen a dick up close before, couldn't believe the size of it! 'This was going to fit inside of me?' she wondered in amazement. Janene pleaded with Derek, "Pleeeeeeeeaaassssseee I neeeed you inside of meeeeee!" Janene had Derek sit down on the commode seat while she lowered herself on top of his rod. She easily slid right on given how wet she was. As Janene felt her entire vagina walls wrap themselves around his penetration, she screamed out her passion. "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" "Yeeeeesssssssssss!" Janene screamed out with every hump until finally climaxing to a powerful orgasm! "AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Mmmmmmmmmmmm."
Janene's breathing finally calmed down after several minutes of recovery. The thought that she just lost her virginity should have alarmed her, but she only smiled. Has she lost her mind?She still sat on Derek's member, as it slowly softened inside of her. They had just had sex, and she felt so wonderful. She brought her hands up to her huge breasts, basking in the pleasurable feeling they gave her. She simply loved her new breasts. She slowly lifted herself up off Derek's penis and felt his come dripping out of her soaked vagina. In addition to her own come, and Derek's come, there was a small sprinkling of Janene's blood. Janene looked down at Derek in a daze.
Having lost all her inhibitions around him, Janene snuck a finger down to her vagina and buried it deep inside of herself. Her finger easily slipped inside of her very wet slit. Janene used her other hand to massage her huge breasts while her love finger was followed by another, and then another. With three fingers buried deep inside of herself, Janene screamed out another orgasm.
When Janene opened her eyes, she had a dreamy, sated look. Derek was no longer with her, and she figured that he was waiting for her outside. Janene quickly cleaned herself up and put all her clothes back on. Her nipples again brushed against her bra's material, and she found that she had to take it back off. 'No more bra with sensitive nipples like these,' she thought to herself. Janene threw the bra away in the trash and went back out to the front of the store. Her cries of passion must have been loud because everyone seemed to be looking at her.
"Well, I trust you feel better," stated Derek with a smirk.
"Oh yes... much... much better. Thank you (blushing). I just love my new boobies. I love the way they feel," she said with lust-filled eyes.
"Alright Janene... you have one more wish... what will it be?"
Janene was daydreaming while Derek spoke. Her nipples were now starting to rub up against her sweatshirt, and the fact that her huge breasts were swaying freely without support, she was getting horny all over again. 'If only she didn't have to work right now,' she thought to herself. Her mind continued to reflect, 'If she didn't have to work right now, she'd be home playing with her big boobies this very moment.' THEN IT HIT HER! Why work? In fact, why work ever? Janene looked at Derek with a grin: "I... I wish that I never had to work ever again and was totally independent from any responsibility or decision-making whatsoever."
Derek again smiled and replied, "Done."
EPILOGUE
Janene smiled at the pretty lady and giggled.
"Oh, hi Derek... and who do we have here?" Lady Ashley asked while admiring the lovely girl.
"This is Janene... isn't she precious?" replied Derek, both Lady Ashley and Derek gazed at Janene.
Janene beamed with joy... she was so, so happy. This pretty lady was going to take care of her. Nothing mattered to Janene anymore. This lady was so, so pretty and so, so very nice to her. She would take care of her. Janene loved to be taken care of.
"Janene, go over by the mirror and strip out of all your clothes... you won't be needing them anymore... while you're over there, you may gaze at yourself and play with yourself. Continue this until I tell you otherwise."
Janene giggled and quickly did as she was told. It made her feel so, so good when she did what she was told. Janene quickly stripped off all her clothes and looked at herself in the mirror and smiled... while bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, she took it one step further by pinching her nipples. A pleasurable arousal shot throughout her body. Janene smiled again, gazing at her huge boobies. Janene giggled and then just stared as her right hand cupped her mound. When she once again fingered herself, Janene couldn't help a moan escape her lips.
Lady Ashley and Derek watched the scene together. Neither could deny that their own bodies didn't react to the erotic scene playing out before them. Lady Ashley commented on Janene's youth.
"Yes, she is young... only sixteen years old."
"What did she wish for?" Lady Ashley asked, still watching Janene finger herself.
"Big boobs, erotically sensitive nipples, never to work again, and never having any responsibilities," replied Derek.
"Wow... she was really into it, wasn't she?"
"Yes... she certainly was. I even added a little something extra."
"Oh, don't tell me," Lady Ashley smiled, and then added, "you made her a bimbo."
"How could you tell?" Derek asked in surprise.
"Beautiful, long blonde hair and stacked quite nicely on top. The classic bimbo if I ever saw one... what exactly did you do to her mind, other than making her one hundred percent submissive as my other girls?" Lady Ashley asked with a smile.
"I've reduced her attention span to three seconds. I've not only rendered her totally submissive, but gave her a dose of pleasure when she obeys. Her giggling is for added effect. I also let her remember her past life, but instead of feeling trapped inside that pretty empty head she's in, she feels pleasure in the fact that she no longer has to make another decision for the rest of her life. And, of course, your prerequisite... she now responds to girls," stated Derek.
Derek and Lady Ashley said their goodbyes, and Lady Ashley escorted her new pet up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. Janene entered a huge room with a big round bed in the middle of it. Janene's eyes lit up with joy upon seeing other girls on the bed. They were all naked like her and just as equally pretty! Janene felt herself responding to them and giggled as the feelings licked at her. Janene was feeling horny again... real horny.
"You may join them, Janene."
Janene smiled at the pretty lady and climbed on top of the bed and right in-between the legs of a pretty redhead. Janene smelled her sweet sex with pleasure, basking in the aroma, and then tasted her juicy snatch which pleasured her taste buds. Janene then buried her whole face inside the pretty redhead's crotch and proceeded to make love to it with her tongue.
Lady Ashley smiled as she watched Janene. She had added so much to her stable of beauties. Janene lapped at Rhea's vagina like a professional lesbian. Lady Ashley continued to watch as she slowly stripped out of her own gown.
Just like magic, the girls moved over to make room for their Mistress. Lady Ashley didn't hesitate in repositioning Janene's lower half within licking distance. Lady Ashley could smell the young beauty, and her own arousal was making her impatient for the young lass.
Janene came the second Lady Ashley's tongue stabbed her clitoris. Janene not only gushed with come, but she gushed with happiness... Janene was so, so happy... and so, so horny.
The End. | 5 |
5,405 | 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 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 | 4 |
5,421 | Lust With a Side of Psychosis | "Did you go in for a blood level, Ivy?"
"Yes, Doc."
"Then why don't I have a report from the hospital labs?" he asked patiently.
Ivy heaved a sigh. "I give up. Why?"
"Ivy, Lithium can reach toxic levels in your bloodstream. You must be tested every three weeks to be certain your dosage is correct."
"Oh, my dosage is just fine, Doc," Ivy assured him. She knew exactly where this discussion was going, but was avoiding telling her psychiatrist that she hadn't been taking her lithium for about six weeks. Sure, it evened out her mood swings. But what if you're addicted to your own mood swings? What if you LIKE them? What if you don't WANT someone trying to FIX you? As Kurt Vonnegut had said, "I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center."
"...back in the hospital, Ivy," Dr. Christians was saying.
"Oh, no," the dark-haired woman replied. "I told you I'm not going back there."
"Look, Ivy," Dr. Christians replied, "I'll be forced to put you back into the hospital if you can't take your lithium and attend group sessions. Those were the terms of our agreement. Need I remind you that you are bound by terms you helped to choose?"
"I'm TAKING my lithium," Ivy lied loudly. "And I'm going to group tonight. Ask those morons at the hospital lab what happened to my last blood level. I went in for it. I had to leave work early to get there. Check with my boss!" That much was true. Barry had let her out of the office early the other day, and he DID think she was going for medical tests. Never mind the fact that she had actually met Pete and had sex with him again. She knew Dr. Harold Christians would have a fit if he knew she was indulging in clandestine sexual activities with a married fellow manic-depressive from her group therapy sessions.
She really hadn't been intending to carry on with Pete. When they'd first met in group, they'd discovered a mutual love of music, art and rhetoric. Pete had been incredibly entertained by her ability to remember great quotations. It hadn't hurt that her 38D breasts were nearly as beautiful as her big brown eyes. He had told her he loved her "deer-caught-in-the-headlights" look and desperately wanted to "mow her down." For her own part, Ivy instantly fell in love with anyone who could make her laugh. It wouldn't have mattered if Pete had been 4 feet tall and weighed 400 pounds, she'd still have had sex with him because he was an entertaining guy. Ivy always assumed that someone who was entertaining would also be a star in bed. She was frequently wrong, but that didn't stop her from trying. Fortunately for sexual kismet, Pete was quite tall and had brown curly hair about the same shade of brunette as her own, as well as being only very slightly overweight. His green eyes were brilliant in the institutional lighting. Before the first session began, he sidled up to her and whispered in her ear, "I think I've found true love."
"True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen," Ivy responded, quoting Francois De La Rochefoucauld.
Pete laughed. "Accurate enough," he conceded.
Ivy was annoyed by the group therapy sessions. The two earth-muffin, healy-feely psychotherapists who ran the operation were always trying to get her to express her feelings. Ivy had never had a problem expressing her feelings in her entire life. She had a hard time NOT expressing her feelings, in fact. She just didn't want to hear Frank, the overgrown bedwetter in the group, tell everyone for the 115th time that he'd been sexually abused as a child. She didn't want to hear the skinny chick whine about her crappy relationships. Why couldn't these people see that life would always make them somewhat miserable and JUST GET ON WITH IT!
Most of the people in Sponer and Jerkins' Thursday night group sessions were ordinary, garden-variety neurotics. While they had some incredible circumstances in their personal lives that required surmounting, they were not classifiable as psychotics. The two manic-depressives in the group, Pete and Ivy, didn't really belong there, but Sponer and Jerkins hadn't had a group of bi-polars to put them in at the time. Besides, bi-polars were difficult to manage in herds.
As the group introduced themselves to one another during that first session, Ivy and Pete observed one another, recognizing one of their own kind almost instinctively. Frank told everyone for the first time that he was neurotic as hell and had been sexually abused as a child. Janie, the scrawny one, whined about her boyfriend, but said little about herself. Poor thing, thought Ivy. She sees herself as nothing but a reflection of the man she's with. Gloria was a relatively ordinary middle-aged woman who had suffered a terrible breakdown after her husband of 10 years announced that he wanted a sex-change operation. Corinne was a stunning redhead who refused to say anything at all and appeared to be quite depressed. Ivy imagined that if she were as drop-dead gorgeous as Corinne, she wouldn't have a damned thing in the world that would bother her, although she knew inherently that she was completely wrong. Then Pete took command of the room, telling everyone that he was a manic-depressive, taking depakote instead of the lithium that Ivy took, and that he was a third-year med-school dropout working as some idiot's assistant in a big corporate office to support his wife and three kids. (Ivy would later find out that Pete's wife came from a very wealthy family, and that they didn't really require the money he made. He worked to feel useful, he told her.) His manic episodes, he told the group, had landed him twice in jail, thrice in the hospital, and always managed to get him laid.
When it was Ivy's turn, she smiled that Mona Lisa sort of smile that many manic-depressives have. She told them quietly that she played flute with the local symphony and gave them one of her favorite George Santayana quotes: "Music is essentially useless, as is life." She told the group that she was a "Lithiumite from WAY back," which Sponer later clarified for the others. She also regaled them with a rather gothic description of her last suicide attempt a few years previous. Pete had grinned knowingly at her and winked when she explained that all she'd really wanted was to make them play Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" at her funeral. She almost laughed when Pete winked.
During the second session, Pete and Ivy very deliberately seated themselves next to one another.
"God, I dread listening to another evening of crap," Pete complained to her underneath his breath.
"As Jean-Paul Sartre said, 'Hell is other people'," Ivy responded in a whisper.
Sponer began his usual heart-warming meditation which began all their sessions, and Ivy leaned over and told Pete, "You know, I'd really be interested in seeing you naked."
"That's because you're a nympho," he whispered back. "All you manic-depressives are horny as hell."
"Heh-heh," she chuckled wickedly, "you oughta know."
"Oh, believe me, I do," he said. "And I'll be glad to show you after this session."
Ivy knew she was behaving badly. Ivy was famous for behaving badly during her manic phases. She knew Pete was, too. It was part of the package.
As the group was breaking up for the evening, Carl Jerkins took Ivy aside. "You know, Ivy, I really think you're doing well in this group."
"I'm beginning to think I'm doing INCREDIBLY well, Doc," she said with a chuckle, eyeing Pete's ass as he left the room.
Ivy caught up with Pete before he got to the elevators. "Leaving so soon?" she asked him.
With lightning speed, Pete pressed her back toward the wall opposite the elevator, grabbed her ass, and pulled it toward his own hips. "No, I was hoping to press you up against the wall and feel your breasts while Jerkins and Sponer watched, but it looked like Jerkins was going to get to you first. But I'll bet my cock is bigger than his, so it's a good thing you came after me.He was sliding his hands up into her sweater as he spoke.
Ivy giggled. "Oh, I'm fairly sure it is, if that item pressing against my thigh is any indication. Unless you're just packing a salami. And if that's the case, I'm ready for a snack."
Pete chuckled, biting her neck a little as he squeezed her nipples. "So it isn't going to bother you that I have a wife and children? Because I AM in love with you."
"Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; and confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished," Ivy quoted to him, breathing hard and fast.
"Goethe! My favorite!" he replied exultantly. "So let's fuck."
Ivy leaned her head back, enjoying his nibbles on her tender neck. "Well, OK. But I thought you'd be in love with that gorgeous Corinne," she told him. She was hoping he would lie to her and tell her she was far more beautiful.
"Oh, she's hot alright," Pete said as his fingers pulled on her left nipple and Ivy's knees went a bit weak. "But you ooze sexuality. You need to be fucked. I can tell."
"True enough, Pete," Ivy said easily, with a giggle. She reached up and pulled his head down so that she could get her mouth against his, sucking hard on his tongue when she managed to lure it into her mouth.
".....for the next session," Sponer's voice was saying as the door to the therapist's offices opened.
In a slight panic, Ivy pushed Pete back and pulled her sweater down. She couldn't have the two psychotherapists catching her and telling their supervising M.D. Dr. Christians would NOT approve, she was fairly certain. Besides, anything even slightly risky always pleased Ivy immensely. She needed risk to feel alive.
Pete smiled widely as he punched the elevator button. "Damned thing seems slow tonight, doesn't it," he said conversationally to her as the therapists emerged from their office.
"Yes. Yes, it does. I'm in the mood for something MUCH faster," Ivy replied.
The two potential lovers stepped into the next available elevator and looked at one another, waiting to see if Sponer and Jerkins would be joining them. "Should we hold this for you?" Ivy called out to them as Pete stepped to the back of the elevator and got behind Ivy, pressing his cock against her ass from behind.
"No, we'll catch the next one," Sponer called back as the doors slid shut.
"Oh, good," Pete sighed as he pressed himself along Ivy's back and cupped her breasts. She wiggled her hips back against him and pushed the L for Lobby button.
"So shall I just fuck the daylights out of you in the parking garage, or do you want to go back to my place?" Ivy asked Pete.
"You shouldn't have strange men in your home, little girl!" Pete admonished her.
"True, and you DO seem pretty strange," she agreed. "And I was once warned by a very good friend that I should never sleep with anyone crazier than myself."
"You know, I've had the same warning. But I won't know if I'm any crazier than you are until AFTER I've made you cum four or five times. I think it's important to make a lady come several times before I release my load," Pete replied as the elevator lurched to a halt.
" 'I only require three things of a man. He must be handsome, ruthless and stupid,' " Ivy quoted with a gleam in her eye and then muttered, "Dorothy Parker said that." She took Pete's hand and pulled him toward her car.
"Wait, wait," he said, "I should follow you in my car so that you don't have to bring me back here."
Ivy readily agreed with him, and they got into their separate vehicles. She spied Pete's truck behind her as she drove her little blue Miata out of the parking garage, blaring Beethoven. She wondered briefly if this would become one of her more enduring affairs or merely a good solid distraction. Pete was adorable, but hadn't really said much to her other than propositioning her. Not that this was a problem for Ivy. She loved a man who knew what he wanted. She knew that even if Pete were a boorish idiot, she'd be hopelessly in love in no time at all, especially if he was any good in bed. It was the way she was.
Ivy pulled up in front of her little condo and was about to slide out of her car when she decided to remove her underwear. Quickly, she pulled her short denim skirt up and slid her blue satin panties down, wadding them into her fist and getting out of the car. As Pete followed her up the walk eyeing her ass, she casually tossed them over her shoulder at him. He caught them neatly, laughing.
"Ummmmmm...Ivy," Pete said as he looked around her condo, "It doesn't look like you live alone here."
"My husband has taken our son and gone to visit his parents for Thanksgiving. He knows I abhor them," she said easily.
"You didn't say a word about marriage," Pete reminded her. "You didn't say you had kids or anything!"
"What? You have a sudden case of gender loyalty and hypocrisy combined?" she retorted. "It's OK for YOU to be cheating, but not me?"
"No, no, no," Pete said quickly. "You can cheat. Especially with me! I just didn't know that much about you, I suppose."
" 'The dread of loneliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.' Cyril Connolly," Ivy laughed and dropped her coat beside the door. She was a notoriously crappy housekeeper. "But you know enough to know that I want to see you naked, right?"
Pete chuckled as he threw his own jacket into the corner with hers. He quickly began to peel off his clothes. "Oh, I'll be happy to let you see me naked, Ivy. You just have to reciprocate."
"Well, I thought we'd at least move out of the foyer first, but whatever," Ivy said amiably and she began to shuck her skirt and sweater.
"Gee, and I'd dressed so nice just to impress you," Pete teased her as his Dockers fell to the floor.
" 'One should never put on one's best trousers to go out to battle for freedom and truth,' " Ivy replied, "although I suppose adultery still isn't what Ibsen had in mind when he said that." Ivy was releasing her heavy breasts from the periwinkle satin bra she wore.
"Let me help you with that," Pete said sliding his hands over her nipples as the bra dropped to the floor. At 6'1" Pete was quite a bit taller than Ivy's considerable 5'8", so his rigid cock pressed against her belly as he held her in his arms. His mouth was warm and sweet when he pressed his lips against hers. She wiggled slightly in his grasp, stroking the hair at the back of his neck as they kissed, tongues touching and retreating, then touching again. Pete ran his hands down her naked sides. Ivy's clit was throbbing in cadence with the little pushes Pete's cock made against her soft abdomen.
"You're beautiful, Ivy," Pete whispered into her left ear as he kissed his way around it.
Ivy shivered with delight, knowing that she allowed this sort of validation to have far too much importance to her. Ivy loved men and sex, for the sheer pleasure of the act, of having a different cock suck deep in her pussy. She moaned slightly trailing her fingers down his spine to feel that gorgeous ass she'd been admiring.
For his own part, Pete was glad to have found someone as horny as he was, especially someone who was likely to understand how his mildly warped mind worked. Ivy was less likely to be miffed when he disappeared for days at a shot because he was willing to bet that she did it, too. She had nice tits, and she didn't seem to take everything as seriously as his wife did. Why did everything come down to a comparison of the spouse to the lover? And why did he stay married if the spouse was always found lacking?
For the same reasons Ivy did. Because it was there. It was what she'd committed to. It was also a safe haven from the rest of the world, even if it sucked. It was a hassle to divorce. Besides, then she wouldn't have that forbidden thrill of cheating if she left her husband. That was half the fun.
Ivy removed her hand from Pete's ass and reached between them. She dipped a finger in her pussy, and brought it out to touch Pete's lips. "I want you to eat me, Pete," she told him.
Now here was a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to tell her lover. Pete caught the tip of her finger between his teeth and licked at it the way he would her clit, making Ivy squirm with delight. She pulled away from his embrace and took him into the bedroom.
"Sorry. Haven't made the bed since 1988," she mumbled as she flopped on her back and spread her legs for him. "Come here, Pete."
Ivy felt that oral sex was a measure for all men. A halfway decent man would graciously dive right in. A truly great man would tease her a bit and then enjoy her fruits with gusto. She sincerely hoped Pete turned out to be the latter, but she'd been disappointed by some very nice guys before. Pete knelt between her thighs and stroked her labia softly, barely touching it. There was a thin line of hair at the mound, and the rest was shaven smooth. Ivy was delighted and let out an appreciative little "Mmmmmmm," as he brushed his hand down her oozing crotch. He spread her nether lips and examined her pussy thoroughly, reminding her that he HAD been a med student and knew a good one when he saw it. She laughed even as she squirmed in anticipation. Her breathing was growing ragged, and her eyes were half-closed.
Pete loved having a woman at his sexual mercy this way. He loved turning her on, loved the way she sighed when he dragged his finger down her slit. He leaned over and lightly licked each of her nipples in turn as he slid two fingers into her pussy. It was wet and tight. The feeling made his cock ache for release. He was dying to drive himself all the way into that little hole and fuck her until she screamed. He kissed a wet line down her rounded belly to her mound. He removed the two fingers he'd been slowly stroking inside of her and spread her cunt wide open.He looked up into her eyes for a few seconds as she whimpered incoherently, and then he licked her from her perineum all the way up to her hard little clit. He dragged his tongue slowly back down again and then up. Ivy's hips began to move in rhythm with his licks, and she was moaning loudly now. She groaned when he sank his fingers back inside her cunt and began to circle her clit with his tongue. His lips sucked around the tiny knob of her clit while his tongue gently flicked it. He could feel her pussy tightening around his fingers and increased the tempo and force of his tongue. She was grinding her hips against him, clutching handfuls of the rumpled bedsheets and moaning as she began to cum in spasms.
"Yes... oh... God, yes," she groaned. "Don't stop." He didn't. He gently brought her down from her first climax and pulled his fingers free. Before she had a chance to relax, he was on his knees, rubbing the head of his cock all over her eager slit.
Slowly, he began to slide his cock into her cunt. "You're so tight," he sighed happily as he began stroking back and forth inside her.
Ivy reached down his back to grab him by the back of his thighs and pull him forcefully into her waiting pussy. Pete had a long, thick cock that rivaled most she'd seen. It was perfect, and she was grateful after all that she'd gone to group that night. She pulled tightly on his cock with her muscles. Every time he pulled back, she tightened down, as though she was afraid he'd pull his cock out of her. Pete's eyes were now the ones half-closed in ecstasy as Ivy's hips rose to meet his. Ivy knew she was going to lose control again soon. "Ah... I'm... ung... gonna cum... Pete," she moaned.
Pete thrust himself hard and fast into her pussy and began to pound her cunt, fucking her hard, so that her next orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks, and she was groaning loudly, almost screaming. With a loud groan, Pete felt his own semen rising and knew he was about to pour it into her pussy. He had a vision of his white-hot cum splashing across her cervix as he thrust his cock into her. She was clutching his ass and writhing with pleasure. As their orgasms subsided, Pete was suddenly overcome with an urge to be practical.
"Ivy," he said, rolling off her and holding her in his arms, "you're not going to whack out on me, are you?"
Ivy laughed raucously, enough to make Pete a little nervous. When she got herself under control, she said, "You're a manic-depressive, too, Pete. Can YOU be trusted not to whack out? Do you have any idea how funny it was for you to have said that?"
"So very true," Pete agreed with a self-deprecating chuckle. "But you know what I mean."
"Can I be trusted not to tell your wife? Can I be trusted not to run to a lawyer?" Ivy asked. "Oooooh, yeah. As Lord Chesterfield said of sex, 'the pleasure is momentary, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable.' Yes, you can trust me not to blackmail you. And I'm going to assume that the same is true of you, Pete."
Pete heaved a sigh of relief. "I still can't tell which one of us is crazier. I need to make you cum a few more times."
Ivy giggled. "OK," she said easily, knowing that a beautiful affair was underway. | 3 |
5,429 | 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 were 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 ....""Ummmmm 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-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 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, it's 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, sensu-ally. 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 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 across my face, her nipples erect 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, her muscles tensing like those of a predator cat ready to pounce, and her clit throbbed and pulsated between my lips. 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 as she desperately sucked in life-giving oxygen, and her body began shuddering again. Her hips began rocking back and forth wildly, and 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, and her hips slowed to a halt, her clit resting 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 taken 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 coming 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, moving down to my balls and beginning to massage them gently, cupping them and scratching the bottom of my sack with her nails, 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, taking my entire cock in one swift motion.
"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.
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. | 4 |
5,436 | Deja Vu | "Oh grandmother, I still can't believe it!" The young blonde-haired woman exclaimed as she gushed with excitement. "Two days from now I'm going to be in Europe."
"Well, it's nothing that you don't deserve," The older woman smiled back. "I'm very proud of you, and all that you've accomplished."
"I don't think Mother would agree with you on that," Jenny D'Angelo replied. "She thinks the entire trip is a colossal waste of money."
"Your mother thinks everything is a waste of money," Connie D'Angelo laughed. "And besides, it's my money that's paying for this trip, so she doesn't have anything to complain about."
With that, Jenny joined in the laughter. She knew she really shouldn't be enjoying a joke at her mother's expense, but she couldn't help it. In many ways, Connie had always been closer to her than her mother. Despite the 38 years separating them, they were more like girlfriends than family.
The trip to Europe had been Connie's idea. She had been so impressed when Jenny graduated from high school a year early and then gained acceptance to an Ivy League college.
In addition to covering all the expenses for three months on the continent, Connie was also buying Jenny a new wardrobe for the trip. Between the two of them, they had two shopping bags full. The rest of what they had bought would be delivered to Connie's tomorrow. Knowing her daughter-in-law would have something to say about all the new clothes, Connie had wisely put her own address on the deliveries.
"It's still early, what say we head over to Kou-feng's for lunch," Connie suggested.
"Great," Jenny responded. "But only if you let me treat you this time."
"All right," was the reply.
An hour and a half later, the two women had lunch behind them and were headed down Main Street. Along the way, both women turned men's heads. An action that they both took so much for granted that neither gave it much thought.
Jenny was 5'5", with long blonde hair that ran to the midpoint of her back. Deeply tanned, she wore a pretty yellow blouse and a short blue skirt. A firm set of breasts pressed against the yellow material, highlighting a youthful, athletic figure. She had been on the gymnastics team in school and all the hours spent practicing were self-evident.
Standing a few inches taller than her granddaughter, Connie long ago gave up trying to keep a slim figure. Instead, she had concentrated on keeping her body firm and hard. Extra pounds she may have gained over the years, but very little of it was fat. She worked out as much as she could, maintaining a form that most women her age could only envy. Blessed with a more than full-figured bust when still in her teens, she couldn't defy the long-term effects of the laws of gravity. But no one said that she had to submit to them without a fight. What gray that dared appeared in her hair was banished by frequent trips to her hairdressers.
Connie wanted to put as much as she could into this last day she would spend with her beloved granddaughter. She was really going to miss Jenny, but glad she was able to give her the opportunity to travel. She had considered going along with her, but eventually rejected the idea. Better Jenny go with the other girls from her school. It would be a better experience letting her be on her own.
It had taken all her authority as the matriarch of the D'Angelo family to get Jenny's parents to agree to the trip. Stephen, her son, had been more than willing to let Jenny go. He had a great deal of faith in his daughter and knew that he could trust her accordingly.
Stephen's wife Barbara, on the other hand, had been opposed to the trip from day one. It was a waste of money, she'd said. A young girl couldn't be trusted out on her own. Why, when she was her age...
Connie remembered all too well what Barbara, or Babs as she liked to be called then, was like at that age. She was a simple-minded blonde airhead that more than lived up to the stereotype. She was, Connie believed, her son's one great mistake in his life. Try as she could, Connie had been unable to keep him from being swayed by a pretty face and a big set of boobs. Nothing that could have come out of her mouth was going to carry more weight than the things Babs was doing with hers.
"I've copied down all the places you told me to see," Jenny said as they crossed the intersection. "Sometimes I wish you were going with me."
"We've already gone over that," Connie said as she stepped onto the curb. "You'll have a much better time with your friends," She added, wondering if she really believed that.
"Hey Jenny, Jenny D'Angelo!" Said a strong masculine voice from the right of the two women.
Jenny turned around and saw the tall dark-haired young man who had called her. He stood about 6'1" and had short curly black hair. The muscles of his chest and arms were highly defined, and it was obvious that he took exercise seriously. The blue T-shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin. Legs as well developed as his arms stretched out from a pair of red shorts.
"Hi Jenny," He repeated.
"Jack!" The girl exclaimed as she jumped forward and gave him a sisterly hug. "When did you get back?"
"Last week, I'm staying at my mom's," Jack answered.
"It's so good to see you again," Jenny continued, her eyes never leaving his face.
"You too," He replied. "I heard how you graduated a year early. I knew you could do it."
"Thanks," Jenny beamed. "So what are you doing now?"
"Football scholarship at State," Jack answered. "But I still need to work during the summer to cover some of the extras," He added as he handed her one of the flyers he had been passing out.
A quiet cough from behind Jenny reminded her of her grandmother's presence. Slightly red at her oversight, she turned and introduced her.
"Grandmother, this is Jack Marziatto," She said. "Jack, this is my grandmother, Connie D'Angelo.
"Jack and I both went to school together, he graduated last year," She continued.
"That's something that your granddaughter deserves most of the credit for," Jack interjected. "If not for her tutoring, I'd have been in the fifth year of high school instead of the freshman year at State."
"You passed the exams," Jenny laughed. "I just helped you study."
"Marziatto, I used to know a Marziatto family a long time ago," Connie said as she looked at the young man's face, a strange look on her own. "They lived over on 10th Street."
"That would've been my grandparents," Jack answered. "They moved over to Bakersville in the early sixties. My parents moved back here about ten years ago when I was 9."
"Come to think of it, I only remember the Marziatto's having four daughters," Connie remarked. "How could you have the same last name?"
"Well, that's a little piece of the family skeleton," Jack replied, the humor in his voice showing that he had no problem dismissing the long-ago scandal as anything but ancient history. "Grandma got divorced after being married about five years. It was such a messy divorce that she had both her son's names legally changed to Marziatto."
"And your grandfather was?" Connie asked, a look of anticipation on her face.
"Johnny Coravelli," He replied. "Why, did you know him too?"Connie's face now went pale as all the blood seemed to drain from it. She felt dizzy for a second and had to take a moment to compose herself.
"Grandmother!" Jenny called out as she saw her stagger for a moment.
"I'm OK," she lied. "Just felt dizzy for a moment. Getting old can be a real bitch at times." She added with a laugh.
"I'm sorry, Jack." She said as she took a deep breath and regained control of herself. "You were saying?"
"His name was Johnny Coravelli." He repeated. "In fact, I was named for him. My dad didn't share grandma's aversion to his memory. Did you know him?"
"I'm sorry, but the name doesn't ring a bell." The older woman said. "It was a very long time ago after all."
"I guess so." Jack said. "I'm sure if you'd known him, you'd remember. He was a musician. My dad told me he was quite a character. Always getting into some kind of trouble or another. I met him a few times a couple of years ago. That really set off grandma. I can still hear her going on about what a good-for-nothing he was. Then, when he got me a tattoo for my 16th birthday, she really went through the roof."
"He got you a tattoo?" Jenny gasped.
"Just a little one." Jack said as he pushed up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing a small blue shark on his upper biceps. "He had one just like it."
"He must've been quite a character indeed." Connie remarked as she stared at the tattoo, trying to sound dispassionate.
"That he was. It's a pity he passed away last year. He was only 57. The doctor said it was too many years of abusing his body with one thing or another."
"Well, it's good to see that you don't take after him in that respect." Connie noted, taking another long good look at the young man.
"No, I try to take care of myself." He answered. "But that's way too much about me." Jack concluded as he turned to Jenny. "What about you, what have you been doing?"
Connie didn't seem to hear as Jenny told Jack all about her impending trip to Europe and how she would be going away to college in the fall. The older woman's attention was riveted on the muscular young man. She seemed to be studying every feature of his face, something she hadn't done in a long, long time.
"I guess I've kept you much too long." Jack finally said.
With that, Connie finally snapped back to her surroundings.
"You must have a lot of things to do before your trip and I've got to get back to handing these things out." He concluded as he indicated the pile of flyers in his hand.
Connie took one of the flyers and glanced at it. It was an advertisement for a small group of college boys, calling themselves, Jocks Inc., who hired themselves out to do odd jobs over the summer. She recognized the masthead, she had hired two of them last year to paint the guest house. It was a good way for them to raise money for school.
With a smile and a wave, Jenny said good-bye.
Soon they reached the parking lot where they had left Connie's car. After storing the bags in the trunk, Connie slid behind the wheel. No sooner had they pulled out into traffic when Connie turned to her granddaughter.
"A really nice young man." She remarked. "Very good looking too. Are you sure all you did was tutor him?"
"Well...we did go out a few times." Jenny admitted. "But nothing really came of it."
"Did you sleep with him?" Connie asked nonchalantly.
"Grandmother!" Jenny shot back in a mixture of mock anger and surprise.
It wasn't that Connie had asked if she had sexual relations that surprised Jenny. It was that she had asked about if she had done it with someone specific. Something she had never done before.
After all, it had been Connie that she had come to last year when she had decided that she was old enough to make that decision on her own. Knowing that Barbara's attitude on the subject was, "Well if she's going to do it, what can I do about it", Connie again took her mother's place.
She'd sat Jenny down and explained to her the pros and cons of being sexually active. Of how she thought she had all the answers when she was Jenny's age, when in reality she had been very ignorant. It didn't take a mathematical genius to figure out that Jenny's father had been born six months after the wedding. That all said, she had made an appointment for her at one of the best Gynecologists in town and had the doctor help her choose the best form of birth control for her.
"Oh, Jack and I made out all right." She finally replied, enjoying the ease she could talk to her grandmother about anything. "But in the end, we decided that sleeping together wouldn't be the right thing to do. I'm really not looking for just a good fuck, I want there to be something more between us. Jack was enough of a friend to understand that. I mean, I'm sure the sex would've been great. But I want to be able to have something else afterwards. Jack's the complete opposite. He just wants to have a little fun, and not have to worry too much about tomorrow. Once we got that worked out, we became great friends."
"I see." Was Connie's only reply.
It had only been a week since Jenny had left for London and already Connie missed her terribly. She had talked to her on the phone a few hours ago and was overjoyed to know that she was having a great time. Yet no sooner had the receiver dropped back on the cradle when she was again filled with an emptiness.
"I should have never given up control of the restaurants." Connie said out loud to herself as she turned off the television. "At least that would've given me something to occupy my time."
Five years before, on her fiftieth birthday, Connie had turned over the control of the three D'Angelo restaurants to her children. In addition to Stephen, she had a second son named Peter who was now 35. Her daughter Angela had just turned 31.
Aside from Jenny's mother, Connie was more than pleased with her children's marriages. Each of her children had been given a share in their own restaurant as well as operational control. Connie, of course, retained majority control of D'Angelo Enterprises.
Her's was still the final word. She owed that much to her late husband. Vinnie had literally worked himself to death, suffering a fatal heart attack when he was only 46. It was his dream to see the single family restaurant that he'd inherited from his own father grow into a chain. Connie had made sure that dream had come true.
It was her distrust of Barbara that caused her to hold her shares. Deep down, she believed that her daughter-in-law didn't have the desire for hard work that running the restaurants required. If she had any real control, she would quickly be pushing the others to sell out for a fast buck. Peter and Angela understood that. When Connie died, her shares would skip a generation and be split between the 7 grandchildren. She had arranged for trust funds for all of them. Each would get their full shares on their 21st birthday.
Connie loved all her grandchildren, but it was always Jenny that occupied a special place in her heart. She was more like a daughter than a granddaughter, a reflection of what Connie was like when she was that young.
"When I was that young." Connie repeated to herself. "When I was that young, I definitely wasn't sitting around the house feeling sorry for myself."
With that, she rose from the chair and went looking for her address book. What she needed was a little companionship. Maybe even a little roll in the sack. Connie had hardly been celibate in the dozen years of her widowhood. She'd been actively pursued by a number of men, even taken a few as lovers. But most lost interest when they finally discovered that if marriage was a possibility, any control of D'Angelo's wasn't.
Twice in the last ten years, she'd even had one-night stands with younger men. Both times with the summer help that she hired to fill in for her waiters when they went on vacation. The young men never stood long and no one ever knew. It gave her an ego boost to know she could still satisfy a younger man.
In fact, during her first year of widowhood, Connie had even had a brief lesbian fling with Maria Fortunato, one of her neighbors. It was Maria who had initiated the affair and Connie had been curious enough to let it develop. Most people thought it was so nice for Maria, a widow in her own right, to spend so much time with Connie during that difficult first year. No one ever suspected what was really going on. When the traditional mourning period finally ended, the men began to call once again and the affair faded of its own accord. It had been an interesting experience to say the least and had helped fill a temporary void in her life.
Connie made a few calls, but had no luck. It was already Friday night and most of the men she knew had already made plans for the weekend. Those that she knew would be available were available for good reason and she wasn't that desperate.
Putting the book back down, Connie picked up the light blue advertisement sitting next to it on her desk. It was the flyer she had been given by Jenny's friend. She remembered that she had called them the other day to hire one of the boys to work on her patio deck this weekend. Bill Ross or something like that, was the boy they had told her would be coming. Just as well she stood home tonight.
"Maybe I should have just asked them to send me over a young stud." Connie laughed to herself.
Her laugh filled the room for a few seconds, then silence returned. The house once again seemed very empty.
"You are definitely getting to be a horny old lady, Connie D'Angelo." Connie thought as she dropped the sheet onto the table.
Late that night, long after dinner, Connie found herself unable to sleep.Uneasy with the whole idea of sleeping pills, she instead poured herself a glass of wine. Still, sleep would not come. By the time she was on her second glass, she decided to do a little of that cleaning out of the basement storage she had been doing on and off for the last two months.
Connie carried a box of mementos up from the basement. She hadn't looked at this old junk in almost 30 years. Yet lately she had begun to feel nostalgic. Sipping her drink, she was surprised that most of it was in such good condition. She had Vinnie to thank for that. He figured that these things would mean something to her someday and had been very careful in packing them away. They were the memories of a young girl named Connie Esposito, and of a time and place far away.
Shifting through the layers of the past, the dark-haired woman found a stack of old 45s. Removing the plastic wrap around them, she smiled as she read off the labels. Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers, Buddy Holly, Little Anthony and the Imperials, The Monotones, Fats Domino, and of course Elvis.
A bright smile on her lips, Connie thought of those long-ago days when she and her girlfriends had visions of passion listening to such hits as Peggy Sue, Book of Love, Blueberry Hill and Why do fools fall in love?
"I haven't heard some of these in years," she said out loud. "I wonder if they are still good?"
As she placed one of the small records on the entertainment center's turntable, Connie wondered what her grandchildren and their MTV-oriented friends would think of this music? Placing the needle on the first groove, she concluded that they would no doubt view them in much the same way she had viewed her parents' big band albums. Old fogey music!
As the sounds of her girlhood drifted across the room, Connie went back to the storage container. Various books were soon piled alongside the case, along with piles of snapshots.
Finally, at the bottom of the box, Connie found what she'd been searching for. Remarkably preserved, it was a framed color 11 x 14 photograph. In it were four young men in blue jackets. It was obvious that they were musicians from the instruments they carried. Standing next to and in front of the quartet were three young girls. The dark blue lettering on the drumhead read "Johnny and the Bluecoats".
Focusing on each individual band member, Connie finally stopped at the tall dark-haired lad on the far right. He was obviously the leader, you could tell that just from his bearing in the photo. His name... was Johnny Coravelli. And except for his greased-back hair, he could've almost been his grandson's twin.
"Johnny, Johnny," Connie said to herself with a wide smile. "You always were a hunk."
Dropping back into her heavily cushioned chair, Connie reverently ran her fingers across the bottom of the wooden frame. One by one, the names of the other band members filtered through her mind. Vito Rossini, Dominic Laruso and Danny Giordano. They were on the way up in those days, the early days of Rock 'n' Roll. All they had needed was one lucky break. And for a while, it looked they might just get it.
Along with the guys were her two best girlfriends in the whole world. Tina Marie Cerani and Jill Barusso. The third girl in the photo, the one hanging on to Johnny, was of course as familiar as the closest mirror. Free of the lines of age and full of youthful exuberance, the face was her own.
Connie chuckled as she looked at her younger self. Hair pulled back into a ponytail, a tight blue sweater and a poodle skirt. That outfit used to cause her mother to cross herself every time she saw her in it.
Preoccupied with the photo, Connie didn't notice the record had finished. Her thoughts were no longer here in this room. Closing her eyes, Connie could hear the magical music of the Bluecoats. She could see the crowds and feel the excitement of being there on the verge of success. Most of all, she remembered how wonderful it felt to have everyone know she was Johnny's girl.
Her mind began to drift further and further away as her need for sleep and the wine took her back to days long gone. To one special night in particular.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Oh Johnny," the young 16-year-old moaned as she felt the boy's hand slip under her blouse and cup her naked breast.
"Oh baby," Johnny replied as he ran his fingers across Connie's nipples. "You feel so nice."
With practiced skill, the dark-haired 19-year-old undid the buttons of the young girl's blouse. She could feel the excitement in his voice. She knew tonight would be the night. Tonight she would become a woman.
"Oh God, Connie!" Johnny exclaimed as he undid the last button and her blouse fell away. Seconds later her bright white bra had followed the blouse to the floor.
Much to the envy of most of the girls in her class, Connie had begun developing early and had continued to develop after most of them had stopped. The result was an impressive 36C bust. She had let Johnny feel it before, but this was the first time he had been able to fully appreciate it au natural.
Johnny had been planning this night for weeks. His parents were away for the night, having gone into the city to see that new play "My Fair Lady". They had decided to stay overnight in a hotel, and he had the house to himself. It had taken a lot of sweet talk, but tonight Connie was going to let him go all the way.
"Mmmm," Johnny moaned as he kissed Connie's soft breasts.
Running his tongue across her nipples, Johnny reached down and eased his free hand under the folds of her skirt and between her legs.
Finding her panties wet brought an increased hardness to his cock, already straining against his pants. Pushing aside the moist material, Johnny slid his fingers inside her.
"Ow!" Connie cried out at the sudden painful intrusion. "Easy!"
"Relax, I know what I'm doing," Johnny said as he rubbed hard against her clit.
Connie bit down until the initial pain passed and finally began to feel good. Not as good as when she did it herself though. A fact which confused the girl. She had always heard that it was supposed to be better when a boy did it. Yet no sooner had it begun to really feel good when Johnny abruptly stopped.
Johnny took Connie's hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. She giggled as she felt his hardness. She rubbed it a little, bringing a soft moan from Johnny. It was her way of giving her assent without actually having to say it. It was a silly thing really, but that was the code girls lived by.
Smiling, the dark-haired boy broke their embrace for a moment and undid his zipper, pulling his cock out of his pants. Then he pulled off the pants and let them drop to the floor next to the couch.
Connie looked in fascination at the now fully freed cock. It was erect and pointed up and outward as if it had a life of its own. She had seen it before of course, but that had always been in the dim back seat of Johnny's old '52 Ford. This was the first chance she had to see one up close and in the light. It was a lot different than the ones she and her girlfriends had looked at during a sleepover at Betty Anderson's house. Betty's father was a doctor and she had borrowed some of his medical texts. Of course, none of them had been so erect!
Sitting back down next to her, Johnny put her hand back on his cock. As she had done on so many nights, she closed her slim fingers around it and began to pump it up and down. The result on Johnny was immediate and pronounced. A look of pure satisfaction filled his face, both from the effect of Connie's pumping motion and the thought of the prize still to come.
"Ooooh Baby, that feels so nice," the singer said in his special musical voice. "You make me feel so special."
The words of encouragement caused the girl to melt and spurred her on. Doubling the speed of her hand job, she sent new sparks shooting through her boyfriend. This felt so good to Johnny that he temporarily lost sight of the night's objective.
Finally, the familiar sensation that usually accompanied the climax of his own jerk-off sessions brought him back to reality. He had to force himself to ask her to slow down. If she kept going like that, he would have shot his load in another minute or two.
Reluctantly, he guided her hand away from his still eager cock. He had to give it a few minutes to let his body settle down.
"Let's catch our breath for a minute," he said as he took the time to unbutton the rest of his own shirt and dump it on top of his pants. He never wore undershirts and was now totally nude. Connie figured she should get naked as well and began to undo the clasp of her skirt.
"No, let me do that," Johnny interrupted as he replaced her hands with his own.
As he leaned over to slide off her skirt, Connie saw for the first time the small blue shark tattooed on his upper biceps.
"Johnny, you're a Shark?" she asked in excitement.
Johnny turned and looked at the emblem on his skin as if suddenly remembering that he had it. He looked a little worried for a moment and then, seeing her reaction, smiled once again.
"Well, it was a while ago," he grinned. "But as they used to say, once you're a member you're one to the grave."
Up until a year and a half before, The Sharks had been one of the roughest street gangs in this part of the city. It wasn't that unusual for members to either graduate to the big time, the state pen or the city morgue. There had been a shooting involving a cop, and even the other local hoods had turned a blind eye as most of the gang members were hunted down. Knowing that Johnny had been part of that seemed to make Connie even more excited.
Feeling very flushed, Connie pulled up next to Johnny once again and cupped his balls in her hand. The fire in her eyes was plainly visible. Johnny knew this was his chance to put the stakes even higher."Connie, baby," he asked in his most seductive tone. "Do you really love me?"
"Of course I do," she said as she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "What kind of silly question is that?" She laughed. "Would I be here like this if I didn't?"
"Well, I was just wondering...." He said hesitantly. "Seeing as we're gonna, ... well, you know..."
Connie nodded her assent, but looked a little confused. She had already decided that tonight was going to be the night and had told him so. So what in the world was he talking about?
"What I mean is...well, I was wondering if you'd want to try that other thing we talked about." He continued. "You know, the thing with the mouth...."
The words had hardly come out of Johnny's mouth when Connie jumped up off the sofa and away from him. She was clearly angry and grabbed her pile of clothes on the floor.
"Johnny Coravelli, how could you even ask me to do such a thing!" She yelled as she stepped away with her clothes now bundled up in her arms. "If that's the kind of thing you really want, then you can go looking for one of those whores down by the docks!"
Both Connie and her girlfriends had agreed that putting a man's cock in their mouth was the most disgusting thing that they had ever heard of. Something that only the nastiest prostitutes did. They'd no more consider doing it than their boyfriends would think of putting their mouth between a girl's legs. | 3 |
5,443 | The Summer of Love | "What's wrong, Marianne?" Shirley inquired.
Marianne shrugged and looked dejected. "Nothing."
"Oh, come on. You can tell me, that's what I'm here for," Shirley persisted. But it elicited no reply, except for an even gloomier visage.
"Is it Johnny?"
Marianne shot her friend a sharp look, then seemed to slump in on herself again.
"All right, don't tell me," sniffed Shirley and, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder, she strode purposefully off.
She'd only gone a few steps when Marianne called out. "Yes! In a way."
Shirley stopped and turned to her. "Have you split up?"
"No, no." A vehement shake of the head. "It's nothing like that. It's just that I..." she petered off.
"What?" enquired her friend, her curiosity piquing.
"Oh, Shirley!" The tears had started to flow now. "I don't know what to do."
"About what? Oh come on, Mar, a problem shared is a problem halved and all that."
"I'm pregnant."
"Wow! Really? How did that happen? I didn't even know you and Johnny had done it."
"We haven't, that's part of the problem."
"Come on, you've got to tell me! So who was it?"
"You remember that party at Phil's place?" Her friend nodded. "Well, me and Johnny had a row and he stormed off. I stayed behind and smoked too much pot. At the end of the night one of the guys gave me a lift home. You remember Steve? Well, he stopped on the way and... well, one thing led to another and we ended up doing it."
"Weren't you on the pill?"
Marianne shook her head. "It was my first time." She blushed.
"I always thought the first time was free," mused her friend.
"So did I, but now I'm a month late. And I'm normally really regular." By now she was crying in earnest.
Shirley dropped her bag and wrapped her arms around her friend.
"I'm so sorry," she said to her friend.
They clung to each other for a while, then Shirley said, "We could ask my eldest sister. She'll know what to do."
"She will?" snivelled Marianne.
"Of course. I'll ask her tonight."
"Would you?"
Shirley put her arm round her friend's shoulder. "Course I will. That's what friends are for."Anyway, you'll never see him again. So cheer up.
She put her finger under the girl's chin and lifted her face up. Marianne smiled wanly.
"One day!" thought Alison. "One day, the politicians will wake up to what's happening to young girls like her and will have the guts to legalize abortion." She hoped it would be soon. Then, maybe, girls wouldn't be quite so dependent on men. It would be one more step towards their freedom and equality.
Contrary to her expectations, the hotel was surprisingly well-maintained throughout. Granted, it was old, but it had been modernized with both flair and taste. The lobby was bright and airy, and the receptionists were well-dressed and pleasant.
"May I help you?" asked the smiling man, who was manning the reception desk.
"I... er... is there a message for a Miss Smith?"
"Wait a second," he said, sifting through the stack of messages. "Yes. Here we are." He handed her the folded piece of paper.
"Thank you," she said as she opened it. 'Room 297' was all it said.
Walking to the elevator, she thought she could feel the eyes of everyone in the lobby boring into her back. But a quick glance over her shoulder dispelled the mental image; everybody, and that included the receptionist, were busily going about their business, blissfully unaware of the uniform-clad prostitute in their midst.
She wished she had changed into 'normal' clothes, but there just wasn't the time. She was due back in school in a little over 50 minutes, and she didn't think she could spare the extra few minutes it would take to change. It seemed like a good decision at the time, but now she wasn't so sure. The man, whoever he was, would know which school she was from. He could trace her. But it was too late.
At the end of the corridor, she noticed a bathroom, and she ducked inside to put some makeup on. Once inside, she tried to still her trembling hands as she applied some mascara. She was shaking so much it smudged, and she had to start over. Finally, she was ready. She took a deep breath and stepped back into the corridor. A few short strides and she was there.
"Room 297," said the sign on the door. Her fate lay beyond it.
She stood for long seconds, trying to control the hysterical beating of her heart as it hammered away in her chest. Fighting the urge to flee, she tapped on the door.
"Wait!" boomed the stentorian voice from within, followed a few seconds later by the door being flung open.
He was surprisingly handsome, big, without being fat, with a full bushy beard and twinkling amused eyes.
"Yes?" he said.
"Please, sir, you sent for me," it was all she could think to say.
"I did? Ah! You must be the company I ordered." He looked her up and down. "You're a little young, aren't you? Are you sure you're old enough?"
"I'm seventeen," she said, a spark of defiance coloring her voice.
"Oh! Well, in that case, you had better come in," he said with a laugh, and then stood aside to let her pass.
The room was larger and airier than Marianne was expecting. She took a few steps inside and stopped by the bed. She heard the door close behind her, and she realized this was it. There was no escape now. Even if she didn't do it, she might as well have. She darted a furtive glance around the room, through the curtain of her fashionably long dark hair. Her eyes were drawn to the chair on which the jacket was draped, a dark jacket with four gold rings on the sleeve.
She heard the creak of the bed as he sat down. She turned and looked at him. He had a sardonic smile on his face as he perched comfortably on the bed.
They stared at each other for long seconds before he spoke.
"Aren't you supposed to tell me something?"
"Like what?"
"Well, the reason you are here would do for a start."
"Don't you know? I'm here to... do it." A long pause. "With you."
"You don't sound very sure. Are you sure that you want to do it?"
She nodded, her stomach churning.
"Why?"
"I must have the money. I really need it."
"What is it? Drugs?"
"No, no. It's nothing like that, it's just that I..." She struggled to discuss her problem with a stranger. Then, to her surprise, he ventured,
"You're in trouble, aren't you?"
"How do you know?" she said, with a start.
"Why else would a young girl need so much money? I'm right, aren't I?"
She nodded.
"How much do you want?"
"Thirty pounds." She felt horrible discussing the sale of her body with a stranger, but it had to be done.
"No, in total."
"Total?" The unexpected turn surprised her.
"Yes, how much are they going to charge you to do it?"
"A hundred pounds."
"Hmm. That's a lot of money. Listen, you don't have to do this. I could lend you the money, and you could pay me back over time. Don't worry. I'm at sea most of the time, and I have very little to spend it on. So I can certainly afford it. Besides, a little humanity never hurt anybody. So, what do you say?"
"You'd give it to me?" she shook her head. "I couldn't take it, I just couldn't. I don't even know you."
"You were prepared to sleep with me without knowing my name, but if I offer you the money as a loan, you feel it's at odds with your personal etiquette. That's a fine set of rules you have written for yourself there," he mused as he tapped his lips with his forefinger.
She stood, picking at a loose thread on her school uniform jacket, trying to formulate a sensible answer. He stood up and walked over to his gold-ringed coat. He delved into the inside pocket and pulled out his wallet. Flipping it open, he counted out twenty-five pound notes. He then walked over to her and stuffed them into her top pocket.
"There!" he said. "All done. Now you are a free agent. You can walk out of here without a stain on either your character or your conscience. Just think of it as a gift from an old man who hates to see unhappy young girls."
She stood for a second, then flew at him, wrapping her arms around his body. She reveled in the smell of him, the deep, clean masculine odor overlaid with the tang of his pipe tobacco.
"Now that's what I call a hell of a thank you." He smiled down at the top of her head. Then he noticed her shoulders were heaving, and he gently reached down and tilted her face up towards his. "Hey, what's this? Don't cry."
"I can't help it," she sobbed. "You're the kindest man I've ever met." Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him full on the lips. The feel of his hard body against hers and the look on the strong, smiling face caused a tremor to flicker through her. Suddenly, she knew she wanted more and pulled his head towards hers, mashing her mouth hard against his.
He drew away slightly and looked her in the eye. "You don't have to do this, you know."
"I know... but I want to." With that, she took his hand from her chin and placed it directly onto her breast. He squeezed her gently and reflexively, and she moaned as a tremor of ecstasy rippled through her.
"Please make love to me," she breathed.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes. I'm sure. I want you."
He scooped her up off the floor like she was a child and carried her over to the bed. Gently, he laid her down and proceeded to press his lips hard over hers. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, and their tongues dueled passionately. Meanwhile, his hands, so big and clumsy-looking, displayed an amazing degree of finesse as they teased open the buttons on her white, cotton blouse. When the blouse was opened, he delicately parted the material to expose her snow-white bra.
He stopped for a moment and looked her in the eye. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel you are under any pressure."
"Please," was her reply.
The bra opened at the front, and with a dexterity that bespoke of long practice, he opened it with a deft twist of his fingers. The bra fell open to reveal her breasts, snow-white and plumply inviting, with the little pink nipples already stiff and swollen. His mouth dropped down and engulfed her left nipple. She shuddered luxuriantly as a thrill of passion blossomed inside her body. She never knew such feelings could possibly have existed, and she thought she would burst with the exquisite pleasure of it all. His tongue darted and dipped at her nipple, and his mouth worked around in circles as if he was prospecting her breast.
"Hmmm," she murmured when he removed his mouth momentarily before taking possession of her other breast in his delicious maw. Meanwhile, his hand darted down and rubbed her thigh just below her hemline. She could feel the fire on her skin where the fingers made contact with her soft, downy flesh.
His hand started to work its way under the hem, the touch as soft as goosedown but with a feeling of unleashed power in the large, muscular fingers. She was un-evolving rapidly, soon acting on a purely instinctual level, murmuring weakly as she parted her thighs to give him unfettered access to her innermost secrets, which lay humidly beckoning between the warm darkness of her thighs.
When his finger touched her sex, it was like she had been immersed in a cocoon of silken bliss. Her whole being focused in on her erogenous areas as he continued to suck and maul her breasts while his hand worked its magic below her. She knew he could feel her dampness through the plain cotton gusset of her workday school panties. Her passion now knew no bounds, and she ached for the fulfillment that only he could grant her.
And so it was with a mixture of mild trepidation and wanton urgency that she lifted her bottom obligingly when his hands started to pull her panties down from inside her skirt. She could feel them slipping away, like an old life, as he slid them slowly down the full length of her long, slim legs. They snagged briefly on her ankle, then they were gone, flung in the heat of their passion away across the room.He released her breasts, and again their mouths melded as he started to unbutton his shirt in a fever of lust. When it was open, her little hands helped to push it from his shoulders and down his back. Her hands then danced a tango over his firm, warm flesh as he redirected his urgency to his trousers.
She caught a fleeting glimpse of his erection, large and mildly terrifying. But then, as if the curtain had been drawn over the scene again, her passion surged once more, and she parted her thighs to allow him access to her honeyed depths.
He flipped her skirt up, and she could feel his body insinuating itself between her thighs. Then he was at her gate, and the feel of his warm insistence made her grip his shoulders tightly, her hands digging into his flesh as if to urge him into her.
He moved, and the head parted her lips. She craved him to plunge into her, to take her, to master her, to conquer her with his power. And she bent her knees to allow him easier access.
Slowly and carefully, he pushed into her. There was no pain, no discomfort, and no urgency, unlike her first time. Now it was pure and unhurried. Deeper and deeper he pushed while she twisted her hips and pushed against the hard swell of his buttocks with her hands as if to help him to consummate their mutual passion. The feeling of fullness yielded to sparks of fire which coursed up and down her spine as he started to stroke inside her.
Dimly, she could hear herself screaming out as he repeatedly pounded into her. At first, her legs kicked wildly, then they drew themselves around his frantically convulsing back until, finally, her ankles locked behind him.
He was a skilled and varied lover, and he taught her more about the arts of love in those few short minutes than most girls would experience throughout the duration of their teenage years. His skills, the fruit of long practice in all the principal ports of the world, were played out to her eagerly questing body as they soared together. It was as if the whole world had been honed down to just them two, adrift on a sea of ecstasy such as she never thought could possibly exist.
The young girl and her skillful middle-aged lover making passionate love, absorbed and needful of each other, their mutual pleasures entwined frantically together in a rhythm as timeless as time itself.
Finally, the denouement!
She felt herself hovering on the brink of an abyss so deep she felt that she might not re-emerge as her orgasm started to erupt within her. She moaned, she thrashed, and she dug her nails deeply into his back as she stretched out for the summit of her bliss.
Higher she climbed, and faster he plunged.
Then it hit her. Her eyes closed tightly, and she screamed out as her orgasm pole-axed her. Her legs wrapped themselves tighter around him, and her arms drew him as close as her puny strength allowed, as she hit her heights. She flew in space, fireworks bursting around her as her shuddering climax continued, onwards and upwards. Ever upwards.
Her ankles were pounding into his buttocks, and her thighs gripped him tightly as she felt the sudden rush of warmth inside her. He was coming, and it was like a torrent unleashed within her silken depths. The power of it made her lose all control, and she kicked and screamed her way through to the summation of her climax as he pursued his, within her.
Finally, it was over, but they clung tightly to each other as if to deny the ebbing of the sensations within their bodies. For a full two minutes, they clung like limpets, then, slowly, her ankles relaxed, and she fell open, releasing him from her velvet prison. He rolled off her, and they both lay panting for long minutes.
She looked at her watch.
"Christ!" She only had five minutes to catch her bus back to school.
Feverishly, she pulled her clothes back together and dashed over to the mirror in order to try and tease some semblance of order into her tousled hair. She caught a glimpse of him relaxing on the bed, smiling at her, and she smiled back.
She looked around the room for her panties, but they were nowhere to be seen. She decided to leave them. Maybe they would be something that he could remember her by. It seemed the least she could do.
Finally, she was ready, and she darted over to the bed and kissed him fully on the lips. "Thank you," she said. "That was beautiful."
"And so are you," he smiled back.
It was only as she was walking through the school gate that she realized that she didn't know his name and that she could never return the loan. | 5 |
5,511 | Kids SEE the Darndest Things | "That was really cool," said Kara.
I turned to her and asked, "What? What was cool?"
"The way that white stuff shot out of your dick, like a squirt gun," she giggled.
"Yeah, you got some of it on me," Kristi said, looking at the drops of my cum on her arm. She touched it with her fingertips and said, "It IS sticky."
"He got some on me, too," Kara said. "How about you, Sissy?"
Sissy lifted her hand which was drenched with my creamy juice.
"Oooh, your whole hand is covered with it," squealed Kristi.
Kara asked, "You're not going to get pregnant are you, Sissy? I mean with all of his stuff on your hand."
Sissy laughed. "It doesn't work like that, silly. It's got to go up inside your vagina to make a baby."
"I've got so many questions about sex and stuff," Kristi said. "Can you teach us about sex, Rick?"
"Yeah, can you, Rick?" Kara agreed. "Mom and Daddy never tell us anything."
"Is there anything you can teach me, Rick?" asked Sissy, with a devilish look on her face.
I suddenly felt like I had become the great guru of sex, these young girls clamoring around me, wanting to learn about sex. What was I going to do? I knew I was treading on dangerous ground here. Hell, this could turn into quicksand real quick if anyone found out I was messing around with underage girls, even if they did initiate it. But the idea of giving them some pointers about the noble subject of sex intrigued me. Especially with the way Sissy just looked up at me and batted her beautiful blue eyes at me.
"We want to do it, too, Rick," said Kara.
"Yeah!" said Kristi.
"You want to do what?" I asked the twins.
"We want to rub your dick and make it squirt, too," said Kara, "just like Sissy did. Only it's not hard anymore."
The girls looked down at my flaccid cock. "Yeah, girls. Just like a squirt gun runs out of water, my dick needs a little refilling." They giggled. "It's going to take a little time, so why don't you just let me think about it for a while, okay? I really need to get dressed. I feel a little silly standing here naked while you are all dressed."
"Would you like me to take my clothes off, Rick?" Sissy asked me, more with her eyes than with her words.
God, did I want her to take her clothes off. I wanted to see her gorgeous body again like I did the other day, only now I wanted to see all of it, every inch. But I needed to think this thing through and consider all the risks.
"Let me sleep on it...uh, that is...let me think about it, Sissy," I told her, hoping to clear my mind and make a smart choice.
"We're only gonna be here a few more days, Rick," Sissy said, "Don't think about it too long. Come on, girls, let's go downstairs and let Rick get dressed." And off they went.
Jesus, just the other day I was thinking Sissy was just a scared young virgin. But today, she was flirting with me like a brazen hussy. She acted like she wanted to get laid, I thought. What am I going to do about the twins? They're just ten years old, and they want to learn about sex. Betty told me they were mature for their age, but not this mature.
I needed to talk to someone. Someone closer to my own age, yet open-minded enough to understand my problem without being judgmental and damning me to hell for thinking what I was thinking. I know, I thought, I'll call Molly.
Molly, my old fuck-buddy. Molly and I always called each other up when either of us wanted or needed to get laid. We both knew it was nothing more than a physical act between us, nothing serious, no strings attached. We'd screw our asses off and call it a night without worrying about the next day. I liked Molly for a lot of reasons. She was damned good in bed for one thing. I knew of no one hotter than Molly. She was one sexy woman. I also enjoyed her kinky side. I knew she was bisexual. Once or twice, we had done a threesome; once with me, her and another woman and once with her, me and another guy. She was into a little bit of everything; mild bondage, a little s&m, a bit of roleplaying. "Whatever floats your boat," as she said quite often.
But what I really appreciated about Molly was that she was a good friend. I could tell her anything. Nothing would shock her, but more importantly, her lips would be sealed. She wouldn't tell a soul. If I told her I was thinking about fooling around with a young teenage girl and do who-knows-what to two ten-year-olds, my secret would be safe with her. Besides, I knew she had played around with a few teenage boys, initiating them into sex. So I knew she would understand my dilemma.
I dialed her number on the upstairs phone.
"Hello," she said.
"Hi, Molly. This is Rick,"
"Oh, hi, sweetie. It's been a couple of months. How have you been?" she said.
"Couldn't be better," I told her, "Well, that's not quite true. That's why I called. I really need to talk to you. Are you free tonight?"
"For you, I'm always free. You want me to come over to your place or do you want to come over to mine?" she asked, lustily.
"Actually, I was thinking we could meet at The Dockside, have a couple of drinks, do dinner maybe..."
"Ooooh, dinner! This must be something big. You're buying, I hope."
"Yeah, dinner's on me. How about if we meet about 7? I just need to make sure I have a willing babysitter."
"Babysitter? What the hell? Have you been keeping secrets from me? Since when do you have kids?"
"I'll explain over dinner. It's been a strange week," I told her.
"I'll bet it has. If you need a babysitter, you HAVE had a strange week. Okay, meet you at 7. Bye."
Then I made dinner reservations at The Dockside. I went downstairs to see if Sissy would mind watching the girls tonight while I was out with Molly.
When I told Sissy I had a dinner date, I couldn't tell from her reaction whether she was amused or jealous, but she agreed to "babysit" the girls.
Molly and I met that night at 7 as planned, we chatted for a while, then after we had had a few drinks, we got down to business.
"So, who are these kids you needed a babysitter for, Rick?"
I told her about how I agreed to watch my cousins for them while they were away. I described the girls to Molly, carefully tiptoeing around the more sexual escapades of the last few days - at least for the first few minutes of the conversation. But then I mentioned how that first night, I discovered that Sissy wore no underwear under her cutoffs. Molly became quite interested when she heard that. Molly ordered another round of drinks for us.
"You mean this fifteen-year-old girl was flashing her pussy at you?" asked Molly.
I told her that at first I was sure it was all accidental, but now I wasn't so sure.
"Why do you say that?" she wanted to know.
That's when I began to fill Molly in on all the details of the last few days. I told her about Sissy's "accident" in the bathroom, about how I teased Sissy with my naked hard-on out on the bluff, how the twins had wrestled under the covers on top of my nude body, and finally describing the handjob Sissy had given me this morning in front of the twins.
"Sounds like you've got quite a hot little number staying with you, Rick. And it seems like those twins are following right in their sister's footsteps," Molly said.
"It sure does," I said, as I asked the bartender to bring us another round.
We were quiet for a few minutes as we waited for the drinks, then Molly hit me with the big question.
"So how badly do you want to fuck Sissy, Rick?"
I gulped. "When did I say I wanted to fuck her?" I asked, somewhat defensively.
"You've admitted it to me, but you haven't admitted it to yourself, have you, Rick?" Molly replied.
She was right. I had been thinking about fucking Sissy, probably from the very beginning when she first stepped off the plane, most likely when I first got a peek at her cute little pussy under her cutoffs, quite possibly when I saw her naked body through that flimsy negligee she was wearing that first night, most definitely after that wonderful handjob she gave me this morning.
"I guess I haven't thought about much else the last couple of days," I admitted.
"And what about the twins?" Molly wanted to know.
The twins were a different story. "They're a bit young, don't you think? I mean, I wouldn't feel right taking their virginity from them, but..." I paused, not being quite sure how to finish my sentence.
"But, what?" Molly asked, leaning closer, taking my hand in hers.
"They are very curious about sex, and...they do seem to want to do whatever Sissy does..."
"So what are you going to do?" asked Molly, very seriously."You're wise to the ways of the world, Molly. What do you think I should do?"
Molly laughed as she gulped down half of her drink.
"Well, Rick, you know I've had my share of some young boys in my time. It was always fun. I kind of enjoyed being their first, you know."
"Are you telling me I should go back home and fuck the shit out of Sissy and the twins?" I asked her.
"Let's have one more drink, Rick. Then I'll give you my opinion."
We had already downed several drinks and were feeling no pain. Feeling loose from the liquor, I began telling Molly even more details about the last few days, including how I teased Sissy out on the bluff by letting her get a look at my erect dick and practically taunting her to touch it. I may have been telling Molly more than I should have, but I could see that my tales were getting her excited.
"You know what I would've done if it had been me out on the bluff with you," Molly said. "I would've sucked your socks off right through your cock!"
That comment stirred my cock up pretty fast. Molly's cocksucking skills were superb, and the image of her in my mind, sucking me off on the bluff was giving me a hard-on.
"Well? What's your opinion, Molly?" I asked her, anxious to know what she thought.
"You wanna know what I think? Honestly?" Molly asked. "I think you should take me back to the house with you, let me meet Sissy and the twins, give me a chance to size them up. Then I'll be able to give you my best opinion."
"You want to go now?" I asked.
"We better, or pretty soon, neither one of us will be able to drive."
All the way back to the house, Molly sat next to me in the car, her hand on my crotch, rubbing my already stiff cock. "My goodness," she commented, "you really are horny, aren't you? I may have to do something about that."
When we got to the house, I introduced Molly to the girls. The twins were their usual bubbly, cheerful selves. Sissy, on the other hand, seemed a little reserved. At first, I thought there was a little tension between the teenager and Molly, but Molly soon broke the ice with her usual charm. We all talked for a while, then the twins decided to go to bed, leaving just Sissy, Molly and myself in the living room.
"Rick tells me you are a very mature young woman, Sissy," Molly told her. For a minute, there was a nervous silence as Sissy looked at me, as if she was wondering whether I had told Molly about this morning. But again, Molly broke the tension. "Rick says your real name is Clarissa. That's such a feminine name. I think you should use that instead of Sissy."
"Do you?" asked Sissy, who seemed flattered at the suggestion, "I want to use it again when I get to college, but as long as I'm living at home with my parents and the twins, I'll always be 'Sissy'."
"I know how it is," Molly replied, "teenagers are always different when they're away from the parents. Aren't you?"
"Well, uh, yeah...I am," Sissy answered, looking at me with a sly smile on her face.
"Rick says you've been wonderful to have around the last couple of days, and I agree that you're a very nice person, Clarissa," Molly added.
"Thank you," said Sissy, blushing a little. "Gosh, I hate to be a party pooper, but I'm getting sleepy. I'm going to bed. It was nice meeting you, Molly. Will I see you again before I have to go back home?"
"You might even see me in the morning, sweetie," Molly told her, with a shit-eating grin on her face.
Sissy looked at Molly, then at me, and a slow little smile broke out on her face. "Oh, I see, well, uh...see you then." Off to bed she went.
As soon as Sissy was up the stairs and her door closed, Molly said, "And as for you..." Then she dropped to her knees, unzipped me, pulled my cock out and began sucking it, right there in the living room.
God, her mouth felt so good as she began sucking my dick. But I was afraid one of the girls would make a surprise appearance at any moment and get a little surprise of her own. "Let's go upstairs, Molly."
"I thought you'd never ask," Molly said.
Once we got behind my bedroom door, Molly went crazy, almost tearing the clothes off of me. "Goddam, you've got me so horny," she said, as my shirt and pants came off in record time. "Everything you've told me about the last couple of days has gotten me so hot, I can't stand it." She yanked my shorts down, and started pulling her own clothes off. "You're right, Rick, Sissy is a hot, little chick and I think you oughta fuck her." Molly shoved me back on the bed, and straddled me. "Yes, I think you should fuck that young fox, just like I'm going to fuck you right now!"
Molly rarely needed foreplay, she always seemed to be wet. She was very wet tonight, as she reached between us, grabbed my erect cock, and slid her hot pussy right down on it.
"Unnnhhh!" Molly grunted, as she slammed down hard on my dick, and began humping me, her hips thrusting up and down on top of me. Molly loved to fuck. She especially loved to be on top. She could get herself off riding my cock faster than any woman I'd ever been with.
"Oohhh!" she moaned, as she rode my dick for all she was worth. With each thrust downward on my hard shaft, she let out a moan or grunt, trying to make herself come. As she did, she reached behind herself with one hand and tickled my balls beneath her ass which drove me crazy. With her other hand, she diddled her clit. She pleasured herself to a fevered pitch until finally, she leaned forward, put her hands on my shoulders, and started pumping her pussy harder on my stiff cock until her orgasm hit her.
"Ohhhhh God!" Molly screamed, as her motions became frantic, "I'm coming, Rick. Jesus!" Up and down, her pussy kept sliding on my dick. "Don't come yet, Rick, I'm still coming...Oh, God!" Molly came long and hard, riding my cock like I was a bucking bull at a rodeo. "Yes, oh shit, yes, Rick!" she cried out, as her orgasm went on and on. Finally, as her orgasm subsided, Molly began to work my dick harder with her hot cunt. "Come for me, Rick. Fill me with your cum."
It didn't take me long to honor her request. I started to thrust up into her warm, wet pussy as she pumped it on my rock-hard erection. In a minute, I came, spraying my jism deep into her fuckhole, squirt after squirt, feeling her pussy fill up with the white foam of my cum. Finally, she collapsed on top of me, our hot, sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other.
We lay together for a while, she on top of me, our heavy breathing beginning to return to normal. Molly whispered in my ear, "Rick, I think your young house guest is playing with her little pussy."
I listened. In the next room, I thought I could hear the sound of the bedsprings squeaking, and soft moans coming from Sissy. "Do you think she heard us?" I asked Molly.
"How could she not?" Molly replied. "I was doing enough moaning for the two of us. Besides, if we can hear her, you know she must have heard us. We must have really turned her on if she's in there stroking her clit."
In a little while, we heard no more noise from Sissy's room. I assumed she had gotten herself off and gone to sleep. It was exciting to think that she had heard Molly and I fucking next door to her. And imagining her laying in bed, rubbing her clit, making herself cum was a real turn-on. Molly noticed how turned on I was when my rising cock made a tent out of the sheet that covered us. Molly reached under the sheet and began stroking my dick. "Ready to go again, stud?" asked Molly.
Just then, there was a knock on the door and in stepped Sissy, wearing that same sheer nightgown she had worn before. When she saw us lying there under the sheet, she said, "Oh, I'm sorry," and started to back out of the room.
"That's alright, Sissy," Molly told her, "come on in." | 3 |
5,584 | Jacksonville Weekend | "I look into the mirror
See myself, I'm over me
I need space for my desires
Have to dive into my fantasies.
I know as soon as I'll arrive
Everything is possible
'Cause no one has to hide
Beyond the invisible."
As the Enigma song "Beyond the Invisible" played in the background, fifteen-year-old Mico stood there staring at the letter in wide-eyed disbelief. He couldn't believe it. He had actually won! He read the short, formal announcement for the fifth time, as if reading it again would verify its authenticity. "Congratulations, your entry into the Weekend with Taylor Hanson Promotional Campaign has been selected as the winning submission. Your completion of "I would like to spend a weekend with Tay because . . . " in twenty-five words or less was one of ten finalists submitted by the panel to Taylor. He was very touched by your conclusion " . . . after three months touring around the world Tay deserves to have a quiet weekend just being a normal American boy with another boy like him." Please read the attached agreement and return to us immediately." Mico read that second-to-last line again. Damn, his entry had actually been chosen by Taylor himself!
The letter went on to say that he would sign exclusive rights over to Hanson Promotions and would not hold them liable or some such, and that he would agree to posing for promotional pictures and interviews. For a weekend with Tay, he would sell his soul. He skipped over all the boring stuff to the handwritten note at the bottom of the page. "Hey Mico! Looking forward to spending a quiet weekend just being me for a change. Cool answer. Tay."
Just reading Tay's handwriting caused Mico's cock to spring to attention. Of course, anything to do with Taylor Hanson did that to the horny Florida teen. He debated if he should phone his mom at work, or if he should call his best friend. He decided on Zak first. Zak was not going to believe this. Sitting down on his bed, he pulled out his stiff seven-inch cock and began to stroke it as he waited for Zac to answer.
"Hey Zak!"
"Hey Mico, what's up, besides your cock?" he asked, knowing Mico very well. After all, they were close friends, and Mico was exceptionally hung for his age.
"You bet it's up, and you know why?"
"You're thinking of me," joked Zak.
"All the time, lover, but there's another reason this time!"
"So, you going to tell me?"
"Remember that contest about Tay?"
"Of course, that's all we talked about for a month after you sent your form in."
"Got an answer."
"Yeah? Sorry, we regret to inform you..."
"No damn way! I won."
"Yeah, right."
"Come over and read the letter."
Zac bicycled over to Mico's in a matter of minutes, and like Mico, the fifteen-year-old stood there staring in disbelief at the formal letter from the Hanson's agent. "Oh fuck man, that is so rad! An entire weekend! What are you going to do together?"
Mico's lips curled slightly and his eyes narrowed in a suggestive leer.
"Huh!" Zac snorted. "Yeah right. Like he's just going to go hop into bed with you."
"With us," Mico corrected, "and I was figuring we could find more places than just the bed to do it in."
"Dude, in your dreams. There's no way Taylor's really gay."
"What about all those stories about him on the web then?"
"Ninety percent of what's on the web ain't true, you know that."
"Could be though."
"Yeah, could be the moment he sees us he gets the hots for both of us and can't wait to tear off our clothes, but I doubt it."
"The three of us."
"Huh?"
"Was thinking of inviting Tyler over too, if you don't mind."
"No, Tyler's cool. Invite the whole neighborhood over if you want," Zac replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Nothin's gonna happen."
"Yeah, well, we'll see."
Mico was not about to let Zac discourage him. Normally, the two friends would have used the opportunity of being alone to have sex, but Mico was too excited. Taylor Hanson, there in his house, for the entire weekend. As soon as Zac left, Mico was on the email to Tyler, another of his good pals. Although Tyler was just as doubtful as Zac about the sex part, the opportunity to meet Tay Hanson was enough of a reason to guarantee he would be there. The possibility of having some hot sex with the cute blond singer would be an unexpected bonus.
The seventeen-year-old had fantasized about Taylor Hanson frequently during his jerk-off sessions. He had also fantasized about Mico. His handsome looks, smooth, tanned five-foot ten-inch, hundred-and-fifty pound body, sexy brown eyes, and thick dark brown hair were a major turn-on.
Mico's mother was excited for him when she found out the news later that afternoon. She was always very supportive of him, and Mico loved her for it. She even knew her sixteen-year-old son was gay and had accepted it, only asking that he not flaunt it yet, which was cool for Mico. He had his best friend Zac when he needed sex, and his buddy Tyler who knew of his orientation and who had confessed that he also liked boys, so why flaunt it?
Once the shock that a celebrity would be living in her home for two days was over, Mico's mother began to worry about making a good impression. The house would have to be cleaned from top to bottom of course, even though she already kept it spotless. Then they would have to have activities planned. What could they do to keep someone who travelled the world entertained? That, she figured, would be a major problem. Of course, Mico did not mention anything to his mother about his ideas for keeping Taylor Hanson entertained.
The next day, his mom returned home with more exciting news. It seemed her boss had this fascination with Taylor, and when she told him the news, he offered his home for the weekend. That was great news. His home was much larger, and very stylish. There was a lot more opportunity to do things there than in the comparatively small home Mico was living in. It also had an outdoor pool which could lead to some interesting things. Mico frowned though. Yeah, right, there would be a lot of opportunities with his mom's boss right there. He was a cool dude, and pretty hot looking for an adult, but there was no way he'd stand for anything like Mico had in mind. Mico would have to thank him for the offer, but he would have to settle for less showy digs and a better chance of getting it on with the hot, sexy blond singer.
Then his mother delivered the other surprise. Her boss and she had to be out of town on business that weekend, but her boss had said Mico could have the keys to the place if he promised not to have any wild parties, and if he promised her boss he'd tell him everything that happened between him and Taylor that weekend. Mico could not believe his string of good luck! He eagerly agreed, although if things went his way, there would have to be some editing of the final account of the weekend.
As the magic weekend approached, the three boys got more and more excited, and over time Mico even managed to convince the other two that rumors about fifteen-year-old Tay just might be true. He even had a pic of Tay in a dress that he'd gotten from some guy that wrote stories on the net. Even if Tay was not gay and nothing happened, the three boys had many hot hours speculating and daydreaming what they would do if he really was like them.
Finally, Friday arrived. The plane would be landing at the Jacksonville airport at 2:00 p.m. They had until 2:00 p.m. Sunday, forty-eight hours! The three boys took especially long showers that morning and paid special attention to those more intimate parts of their bodies. They put on their favorite tops and shorts and headed for the airport in the limo that Hanson Promotions had hired for the occasion.The combined scents of Mico's Drakkor, Zac's Tommy, and Tyler's Polo filled the limo with a delightful aroma. As they pulled into the airport, they could not believe the number of people. There had to be at least a thousand fans, maybe even twice that many! The minute the boys stepped out of the limo, they were blinded by flashes from several dozen photographers. Microphones of all shapes and sizes were shoved in their faces, and dozens of voices all spoke at once. They glanced about in bewilderment. The Hanson staff immediately stepped in and created an aisle so they could get through to the private reception area that had been partitioned off for them.
The private plane landed, and once the portable stairs were in place, the door swung open. The three boys and the thousands of fans held their breath. A slim, blond-haired figure appeared at the door. Wearing Doc Martens, baggy pants, and a red polo shirt, he could have been any other teenager, but those blue eyes, long dirty blond hair, and that delicate, effeminate face left no doubt who he was. The fans cheered and clapped and began to chant, "Tay, Tay, Tay." Smiling and waving, the fifteen-year-old star slowly descended the stairs. He was used to the mobs and the screaming, and he did his best not to show his dislike for that type of scene. Fans were certainly one of the reasons they were producing their music, and the screaming and mobbing was just something that unfortunately went with it. The security guards let the three hosts through the gates onto the tarmac. Their legs felt like wet spaghetti as they walked over to the object of countless jerk-off fantasies.
"Welcome to Jacksonville, Florida," Mico greeted, taking the singer's slim hand in his. The slight touch caused his erect cock to twitch inside his black Adidas shorts. "We really hope you are going to enjoy the weekend."
It wasn't a flashy greeting, but it was all Mico could do considering he had been in a state of full arousal from the moment he woke up with his morning erection. Mico introduced his two companions. Taylor, and the crew accompanying him, took a double take upon seeing Zac. With his blue eyes, fine long blond hair, and fine features, he could almost be a twin of Tay, except being five-foot-nine and a hundred-and-forty-five pounds, he was slightly taller and heavier than the star. Just as Taylor always wore two or three necklaces, one of them often the Star of David, Zac, being Jewish, was wearing his Star of David that afternoon. The four boys posed for several promotional pictures while on the other side of the fence the fans gawked and snapped pictures of their own. It felt awkward, and Mico wondered if he'd care to be such a famous star as he looked at the teeming mob and then at his idol in admiration.
Tay, of course, took it all in. This was all part of the game, all part of the hype. He and his brothers needed the fans or they would be nothing, and if they were nothing, that was what they would be paid. Besides, he liked fans. Well, not the screaming I-want-you-I-need-you types that would rip out your crotch hair for a memento, but the quiet fans, the ones who appreciated his talent. Of all the fans he had seen the world over, his favorites were the boys who looked at him dreamily. Of course, he knew that they were daydreaming about what it would be like to be able to sing like he did, and what it would be like to be so famous and to have girls screaming and fainting over you. He could imagine, though, that at least one in each concert was thinking about something very different, something that would totally shock his family if they knew he had such thoughts. When he looked out at the fans before the glare of lights on the stage made the audience invisible, he would spot one such boy and then think about doing things with him, things that he had recently been doing with a fellow teenage star who was also a very special friend of his.
Looking at the handsome sixteen-year-old who had won the contest, Tay immediately had thoughts of running his fingers through that thick, dark brown hair and finding out if the short hairs in his Adidas shorts were just as dark.
He would not mind checking out the hot seventeen-year-old standing beside him either. He had blue eyes and brown hair, stood six feet tall, and must have been just under a hundred-and-seventy pounds. Tay had never considered having sex with an older teen before, and the thought now was very attractive.
After the photo shoot, they were whisked away to the address Mico had given, his boss's home. Where the boys were going to be had been a carefully guarded secret so Tay really could "have a quiet weekend just being a normal American boy with another boy like him." Tay was most impressed with the large yard and expensive home. Although he travelled the world, he came from a modest home himself.
When he found out the circumstance by which the home had become available, he was even more impressed. That Mico's mom's boss would make the place available to them for two whole days, and totally unsupervised, revealed he was a very generous man.
Tay mentioned that they would be totally unsupervised several times. Mico wondered if that was because Taylor was constantly surrounded by adults. When on tour, he had agents and technical crews around all day, and when he was at home, he was constantly surrounded by his family, not just his two singing brothers, but all his other siblings and his parents too. Mico knew the Hansons were a close family, and he believed in the value of family too, but he somehow wouldn't be keen about going on tour with his mom tagging along. Tay was constantly hounded by the media too, so being alone with a group of boys totally unsupervised probably was a big thing for him. Living with a single parent, being alone unsupervised was something that Mico just took for granted.
Considering his thoughts these past four weeks, Mico also could not help wonder if maybe there was even more to Tay's comment than that. Maybe he was hinting that being unsupervised, they could do some things that boys normally would not be able to do otherwise. Maybe that something included having sex with each other, especially if he was gay. Mico always read more into things Tay said and did as reported by the media once he had decided without a doubt that Tay was gay.
Taylor asked him a question, and Mico snapped out of his daydream and returned to the conversation. The boys sat around awkwardly, talking about school and hobbies and common interests.
Tay loved soccer, go-carting, and roller blading, and the boys made tentative plans to do some blading and go-carting during the weekend. One thing on everyone's mind was the pool, the pale blue water sparkling invitingly in the hot afternoon Florida sun. Mico finally suggested they take advantage of the pool, and the three boys readily agreed it was a great idea.
"Shit," said Taylor. "I thought I'd thought of everything when I packed, but can you believe it, I forgot to bring a swimsuit. I'll have to send one of the promotion crew to go buy one." Although the boys were totally alone, members of the promotion crew and Hanson Productions were patrolling the streets surrounding the home. Jacksonville was a large city, but not that large that someone as famous as Taylor Hanson could hide all weekend. Ensuring his privacy and protecting him from fans, the guards were keeping a close lookout for any intruders.
Mico's good luck was continuing full force. He could not ask for a better opening to pursue what he would like to be doing.
"Hey, no need dude," said Mico. "We're all guys here, and we got privacy. No reason we can't skinny dip." He looked at Taylor hopefully. "Unless you'd rather not, of course, like if it's against your beliefs or something." He knew from the dozens of fan sites on the net that Taylor came from a religious family and attended a private Christian school. Besides, there were some guys that were embarrassed being seen naked when they had to shower after gym. Why Taylor would be embarrassed by anyone seeing his hot body, Mico couldn't see.
"Hey, no. I'm cool with that," Taylor answered.
"Great," said Mico, taking the lead and pulling off his Guess T-shirt. Zac quickly followed, pulling off his, and Tyler quickly discarded his tank top. The boys tried not to be obvious as Tay pulled his polo shirt off over his head. God, he had wonderful pecs, smooth, and firm looking. He had the sexiest little wisp of blond hair under his pits. Shoes and socks were quickly discarded, and in no time the boys were down to their pants. Mico drew down his shiny black Adidas shorts, and was followed by Tyler and Zac. Mico and Zac were wearing blue bikini briefs, and their cocks were filling out the pouches generously. Mico was thankful the erection he had been sporting all day had gone down, although as Taylor glanced over at him, he suddenly felt it beginning to rise again.
"Hey," Taylor observed with a grin, "Your briefs match my eyes."
"Yeah, cool," smiled Mico.
Taylor could not help but notice the boys were also very well hung. He wanted to comment on that too, but they had only known each other for two hours, and he wasn't sure how they might take that coming from a guy. They could take it as a compliment, but if they had any hint of homophobia, they could also think he was coming on to them. Anyway, he had something else on his mind at the moment, something very embarrassing. He stood there helplessly in his baggy Guess jeans.
"There something wrong, man?" asked Tyler.
"Hey, if you're embarrassed being seen in your undies, that's ok. Being a big star and all, we can understand, can't we guys?" Mico asked. The other two nodded. "We can turn our back."
"It's not that."
The boys looked at him.
"I'm so stupid. Should have thought something would happen.He unsnapped the snap on his baggy pants and, drawing down the fly, he pushed them down, revealing a pair of bright blue girl's panties. The boys glanced at each other, and then back at Tay. He had been looking anywhere other than at them, or he would have noticed a stirring inside their underwear. "Guess you're wondering about this," he said with a nervous laugh as he stared at the lawn.
"It isn't something we see every day," Zac agreed.
"It began as part of a disguise, so I could get around without being mobbed, you know?"
"Yeah, must be the shits not being able to walk around and not be noticed."
"Well, I struck on this idea of dressing up like a girl."
"That's cool."
"Actually, you'd look cute in a dress," Mico dared to say, thinking of the pic he had.
"Well, dressing up like a girl was a drag," Taylor said with a slight grin. The boys hooted with the play on words. This talk was becoming much more natural than the stilted conversation they had been having, and much more interesting. "Anyway, I discovered that I like the feel of silk panties. Guess you think I'm some sort of perv."
"Heck, no. Actually, you look real cute in them," Zac said.
"Thanks a lot," he said, making a face.
"Really, you look hot."
"Yeah, real hot," agreed Tyler.
"Hot enough to make out with," observed Mico.
Zac and Tyler were accustomed to Mico's forwardness, but they felt embarrassed for him. His dreams about Taylor Hanson were about to be shot down. Taylor looked at him in surprise, and then at each of the other boys in turn for comprehension. He could not have heard Mico correctly.
"Since you shared yours, guess we might as well tell you our secret," Mico said.
"Yeah?"
"We're gay."
"All three of you?"
"Yeah. Me 'n Zac are especially good friends."
"Cool."
"You really mean that?"
"Sure."
"You don't mind the idea of guys having sex with guys?"
"No," replied Tay. He paused for a moment before adding, "I've done it myself."
"Far out!" exclaimed Mico, glancing at his two friends as if to say, see, I told you so. "With anyone we know?"
"Yeah, probably, he's an actor, a year younger than I am. But I don't kiss and tell," he said, and then added with a grin, "or suck 'n' tell."
"That's cool."
"That's actually the reason why I dressed up like a girl, so I could sneak out to meet him. We've had three dates so far."
"Cool dude. Zac and me have been having sex together for months." The two friends exchanged glances and smiles.
"Speaking of cool, we gonna take a dip or what?" asked Tyler.
The boys stripped off their underwear and splashed into the pool. They had races, tossed a ball around, and just generally relaxed. An hour later, they stretched out on the deck chairs and let the hot Florida sun dry them. The home had outdoor speakers and a top-of-the-line stereo, and the boys had brought their favorite CDs from their favorite groups, which for Mico was the band Enigma, Tyler's favorite band was Aerosmith, and of course Tay's favorite was The Counting Crows. As "T.N.T. for the Brain" by Enigma came on, Mico thought about what he wanted to really be doing this instant.
Smell your skin
Feel your breath
You on my side
I couldn't resist.
I hope I'll understand some day
What's the meaning of this crazy game
It is real and pure
T.N.T. for the brain.
If there's no pain
Rules are still the same
I'm with you, just lead me
I'm ready to play.
"You look so cool naked," Mico observed, admiring the singer's slim, 125-pound, 5'9" body.
"So do you. All you guys are hot."
"Oh yeah, how hot?"
"Very."
"Can you be more specific?" asked Zac with a gleam in his eye.
"Hot enough to kiss."
Zac leaned over and planted a long, hot kiss on Tay's lips. The two teens' slim bodies, fine long blond hair, and deep blue eyes were so remarkably alike it was like looking at a boy and his mirror image engaged in a lewd kiss. The sight of the two blonds kissing immediately got the other two boys aroused, and of course the kissing was also having an effect on Zac and Tay. When you are naked, you can't hide what you are thinking, and what these boys were thinking was very evident. The two finally parted and glanced at Mico and Tyler.
"Hmm, you're one hot kisser," observed Zac.
"Hope you didn't mind me kissing your best friend?" Taylor asked with a tentative glance at Mico.
"No, Zac and I share everything," Mico said suggestively.
"Well, then I guess I owe you a kiss too," Tay said with a grin.
Getting up from his chair, he walked over to where Mico was laying and lay down on top of him. As their lips pressed together hotly, the boys slipped their arms about each other. They drew each other close, smooth naked chest pressed against smooth naked chest, flat stomach against flat stomach, growing cock against growing cock. 'Christ,' thought Mico, 'our cocks are actually touching!' As Mico continued to stiffen, he could feel Tay stiffening too. That was so hot! They kept their embrace and their kiss until they were both totally stiff.
"Mmmm, you are a hot kisser," agreed Mico.
"Thought you were about to sing," joked Tay.
"Going to make your body sing," said Mico.
"Oh yeah, which song?"
"Cummmmmmmmmm with me."
"My fav song," laughed Taylor. "I love to cum with boys." He smiled, and sang, "It's a secret no one knows, it's a secret no one knows, mmmBop, ba duba dop, Ba du bob, ba duba dop."
As Mico and Taylor kissed again, Tyler and Zac moved in to join them, Zac kissing Tay on the right cheek and Tyler on the left. As they rolled off the chair and onto the lawn, the three boys began to give their guest a tongue bath, running their hot tongues over his body and leaving trails of spittle to dry in the hot sun. While Mico began to lick and suck on one nipple, Zac found the other. The two boys soon had Tay's nipples hard as his cock, and itching just as badly. The three boys continued down his slim, smooth body, running their hot tongues over his ribs and along his belly. They bypassed his cock, knowing that to touch it with their hot mouths at this moment would be sure to bring him off, and they wanted to postpone that for at least a little while.
During all this Tay was reaching down to caress whatever part of whoever's body was available. This was so hot being attacked by three horny, good-looking studs. He was eager to sample each of their cocks, and he knew that over the course of the weekend he was going to have many opportunities to do so. The three hosts next had Tay get on his hands and knees, and he suddenly found his ass the centre of attention.
Pulling apart his soft, small cheeks, Mico began to eat his ass. Mico was skilled at what he did, he and Zac having had a lot of practice. His tongue darted in and out expertly, bringing moans of ecstasy from Tay. Mico licked and then sucked on his delicious asshole. Delighting in the musky odour and taste of hot teen ass, Mico was soon on the verge of erupting. As he sat back to savour the taste and cool off before he came, Zac, who had been watching with envy, took over with his tongue, eating out Tay's asshole just as expertly.
Mico reached into the bag on the patio table and, taking out the KY jelly, he lubed up his cut seven-inch hard cock. As Mico got into position, Tay eagerly opened his asshole. He had never had anything so large up his asshole, but he was so hot he did not need any lubrication himself. He shuddered with the ecstasy as he felt Mico's cockhead stretch apart the opening to his ass and then sink into his asshole. Mico drove it on in until his coarse hairs were pushing against Tay's soft boy ass.
Zac slipped under him and began to lick and suck on Tay's stiff five-and-three-quarter-inch cock while Tyler sat down before Tay and the young star bent his head and began to suck on his cut six-and-three-quarter-inch cock.
The four boys were especially randy, and it was not long before they were snorting and panting as they approached their climaxes. Tay could hold back no more and squirted his hot load into Zac's eager mouth, and Zac quickly swallowed the singer's slimy, salty offering. Mico thrust his hips forward and cried out as he unloaded his balls, his load squirting deep into Tay's tight ass. Tyler cried out too as his load also erupted, filling Tay's mouth with his offering of hot teen cum. Still sucking on Tay's cock, Zac pumped on his six-and-a-half inches furiously. As Tyler finally slipped his cock out of Tay's mouth, the hot singer immediately went down on Zac's cut cock. His hot mouth brought Zac off in a matter of seconds, and his cum joined Tyler's in the eager hot mouth.
The boys collapsed on their backs and enjoyed the flush that came after sex. They finally dressed and went over to La Fiesta, a Mexican restaurant, for supper, along with the Hanson agents and official photographers. Of course, as soon as others found out where Tay was, they began to congregate. As the boys sat there drinking their Sprite and Mug root beer and eating their burritos, Mico wondered what the fans would think if they knew how he and his friends had introduced Tay to Florida. Watching Taylor as he sat there beside him eating, just being there beside him and inhaling his CKBe cologne was getting Mico hard again. After the meal, they stopped by a Target store and bought Tay a pair of swim trunks, not that the boys intended on ever using them, but because they were expected to pose for some promotional pictures beside the pool. Pics of them skinny dipping would not go over well with any of their parents, although they would sell well on the net, especially a real picture of Tay."So," said Mico, looking at Tay as the boys returned home and sprawled out in the living room of their weekend hideaway. "What would you like to do this evening?"
"More of what we did this afternoon," Taylor replied, his lips breaking into a wide grin.
"Cool, our favorite pastime too," said Mico as he began to strip.
It was cool to just lay there on the floor, the four of them naked and cuddled together with their backs against the leather sofa, talking about soccer and roller blading and dirt biking. They talked about favorite and not-so-favorite teachers, about parents, and about what it was like to be a teenager. Mico and Zac talked about their special friendship, and Tay about the friendship he had developed with Taran Smith. The boys listened with interest as he described their sexual encounters. As the evening progressed, Mico lit a fire in the fireplace and the four naked boys sprawled out on the plush shag carpet and began to fondle each other in the soft glow of the fire. Aerosmith's "Young Lust" began in the background.
"Yeah!
Young lust
Happy just to be in lust
Never have to eat no dust
Everybody talk about
Young lust
You're dyin' and you're screamin' inside
Oh, you're guilty way before you been tried
It's crazy but you diggin' it."
They gradually sorted out into a daisy chain, Mico sucking Tay, Tay sucking Tyler, Tyler doing Zac, and Zac going down on Mico. The four sex-hungry boys licked each other's shafts and ran their tongues over each other's sensitive knobs. Soon the licking was replaced by sucking as each boy slipped his hot lips over an equally hot cock and had hot, moist mouths envelope their own stiff cocks. Sucked and being sucked, they concentrated on the taste of cock and the thrill of suction from a hot mouth. Soon once again hot teenage cocks were throbbing out their juices, this time into eagerly awaiting mouths. They fell asleep that night cuddled together naked on the living room rug.
The boys slept in on Saturday morning, recovering from the sex fest the night before. More or less all awakening at the same time, they decided to take a shower together. The owner of the home had a particularly large shower built, evidently with entertainment in mind. Four hot teenage boys crowded together in a shower can only result in one thing, hot throbbing erections, and that in turn can only result in one thing, a circle jerk. Tay held Mico's massive seven inches in his right hand, and fondled Zac's balls with the left. Mico meanwhile was holding Tay's balls in his left and Tyler's six and three-quarters in his right while Tyler jerked off Zac's six and a half inches and held Mico's balls. Zac completed the circle, grasping Tay's five and three-quarter inch cock and Tyler's balls. Soon the white stuff was flying, squirting the four boys with creamy moisturizing boy cream, their own and their neighbor's. They playfully rubbed the slimy, hot juice on each other's body, enjoying the feeling of hot cum on their flesh and on their fingers.
After showering, they enjoyed a leisurely brunch. Most of the day was spent with the promotional crew, taking pictures of the boys as they went about doing what boys the world over do in their leisure. They strolled the mall and played some games at the arcade, stopped in at Wendy's for cheeseburgers and fries, and spent a couple hours driving go-karts at Adventure Landing and strolling the beach, eyeing all the hot guys. They concluded the afternoon roller blading in a park near their weekend hideaway.
Once in the privacy of their temporary home, the boys' thoughts turned back to sex. After all, they were normal, red-blooded, American teenagers. They made a game of disrobing, first of all the three boys surrounding Taylor and removing his clothes, and then Taylor teaming up with Mico and Zac to disrobe Tyler, and so on until all four were naked. The distinct aroma of hot, sweaty teen bodies and four pairs of sneaker feet filled the guest bedroom where the boys had decided to "do it". While Zac and Mico sat down on the bed, their backs against the headboard, Taylor knelt at the foot of the bed and leaned over to attack their feet.
"I'm afraid after an afternoon of roller blading, mine are pretty rank," Mico apologized.
"Just the way I like them," Tay responded with a grin. He sang a few words from Aerosmith's "Flesh." "Flesh - you got me all soakin' wet. Flesh - the only thing that's worth the sweat. Flesh, you got me all soakin' wet." The boys had never felt so randy in their young lives.
As the two boys laying on the bed watched, the young blond teenager bent over, his long fine hair brushing against their naked toes. His tongue extended and began to lick their feet, causing ripples of pleasure to originate between their legs. He left a trail of saliva as he licked the salty sweat, and as he licked their soles and sucked on their toes, they squirmed with growing arousal. Tay's own cock was jerking excitedly as the aroma and sharp flavor of sneaker feet drove Tay wild with desire. Licking their feet was so hot he was about to shoot without even touching himself.
Meanwhile, Tyler had gotten behind Tay and was eating out his ass, darting his tongue in and out of the boy's delicious asshole and savoring the hot flavor of his sweaty, musky ass. Mico and Tay rolled over on their sides and forming a 69 position, they inhaled the spicy aroma of hot, sweaty teenage balls. Their cocks throbbed with the erotic aroma and were soon enveloped by eager hot mouths. While the two teenagers attacked each other's cocks, Tyler lay down behind Taylor and replaced his tongue with his cock. The young blond singer quivered with delight as he felt the seventeen-year-old enter him and begin to work his big cock in and out of him. It was so hot having a cock up his ass and one in his mouth at the same time, and a hot pair of lips working on his own boy flesh. Zac formed a similar position behind his best friend, and Mico eagerly opened his boy hole for his friend. As he felt Zac's cock entering him, he thought back to the many other times Zac had done this and the randy teen decided he would never get enough of it.
The boys were soon approaching their climaxes. Mico was the first, sending his blast of hot boy cum into the Tay's eager mouth. The young blond swallowed the salty offering hungrily and sucked on the fleshy straw for more. At the same time he quivered with the burning release of his own load, and Mico just as eagerly swallowed the hot singer's boy juice. Behind him, Zac grasped his hips tightly and thrust his hips forward with a little cry that announced he was also squirting his load into the hot teen's body. Tyler was quickening his strokes also, and the seventeen-year-old was soon squirting his cum into his younger partner. The four boys remained connected for as long as they could, and as their flesh softened, they fell on their backs on the pale blue sheets and stared at the ceiling dreamily, their breaths slowly returning to normal as they inhaled the warm, cum-scented air.
That evening, the boys barbecued, cooking thick juicy steaks and baking potatoes and corn-on-the-cob on the outdoor barbecue, and again allowing the photographers in for a photo opportunity. After the meal and after the photographers left, they went swimming for a while, naked of course, then it was down to some serious surfing on the net, naked again. Taylor was a real computer expert, and showed the boys a number of nifty sites, most of them clean but a few erotic ones he knew of besides. The boys also showed Taylor their favorites, sites that featured their different interests, and of course a few sites that focused on their common gay interest.
After a few hours of surfing, the boys decided to retire to the master bedroom for the rest of the evening. Bringing along a bucket of ice, a dozen Mug root beers and a dozen Sprites, and several bags of chips and Cheezies, the boys sprawled out on the bed. It was huge, king-size, with pale blue bed sheets and pillows. Posters of tween and teen boys from around the world playing or just hanging with each other decorated the four walls. They were of every color and nationality, many in their native dress, many bare-chested or bare-footed. An oak cabinet of trophies from sports events was in one corner.
As the boys lay there looking around at the pictures, hands began to explore naked bodies, running over smooth pecs and abs, fondling hairless nipples until they became hard little buds, and caressing firm butts and running along narrow ass cracks. It did not take the boys long to get erect again. As Mico liked to put it, "Junior is a growing boy." Lubing up Tay's ass and then having him lay on his back, Tyler and Mico raised his ass so Zac could kneel behind him and penetrate him. The two boys found it particularly hot being able to look each other in the face while Zac's hot, solid cock slipped up Tay's eager hot asshole.
Tyler then knelt beside the two boys and bending his head, took Tay's hard cock in his mouth. That left his ass in a most inviting position. Lubing up his asshole and his cock, Mico soon had his shaft embedded in his friend's ass. That just left Tyler's cock unattended, and Tay quickly reached over and took care of that. As Zac began to work his hips to and fro, easing his cock in and out of Tay's tight ass, Tyler began to bob his head up and down the blond singer's delicious cock. He thrilled at the thought of sucking off this teen idol, a dream he had never thought would come true. He also thrilled at the sensation of having Mico fucking his ass, another dream he had never thought would come true. As the handsome, brown-haired youth eagerly pumped his cock in and out of the seventeen-year-old's ass, he smiled at the thought of how this weekend had turned out.It was beyond what he had ever hoped for.
As for Taylor Hanson, this was the wildest thing that had ever happened to him. Who would ever have thought he would be spending the weekend with four hot, good-looking teenagers? Who would have thought he would be lying in a king-size bed with a cock in his ass, a cock in his hand, and a hot mouth sucking on his? Enigma was playing on the stereo.
"Mea culpa
Kyrie eleison
Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
I can't sleep anymore
(The time has come)
I desire you
(The time has come)
Take me
I'm yours
I'm guilty
I want to go to the end of my fantasies
I know it is forbidden
I am crazy. I am letting myself go."
One by one, the boys reached that delightful peak. Hot cocks throbbed out another load of hot boy cum, squirting up hot assholes and down hot throats. When Tyler came, Tay caught his hot cum in his hand and then sucked it out of his palm, quivering with the delightful taste of fresh hot cum. One by one, the boys disconnected and lay back on the bed sheets, allowing the warm bliss that follows sex to relax them. They talked about what it had been like, how it had felt. They talked about being teenagers and gay. They talked about how hot it was, and how difficult too. Mostly, they just lay there in the big bed, four naked teens, enjoying each other's company. One by one, they dropped off to a sound sleep, the sleep of those who are at peace with themselves.
They all woke up with morning woods late Sunday morning. Being young and in excellent health, a good night's sleep was all they needed to replenish their young balls. Once again, hands and tongues began exploring fresh young bodies. Young boys kissed, their soft lips pressed against each other, their tongues slipping inside each other's mouths. Smooth ass cheeks were pulled apart, and soft lips attached to puckered assholes as tongues lapped at the musky orifices, delighting in the taste of boy. Hands ran over smooth chests, arousing tender nipples. Hands ran between thighs to cup and gently fondle silky-skinned balls.
Zac and Mico soon found themselves in a familiar position, their heads at each other's crotches. The two young friends savored each other's balls, and then took each other in their mouths. Tay quickly lubed up his young hard cock and Mico's ass, and then, laying down behind him, Tay slowly and eagerly slipped his cock up his young fan's ass. Mico opened eagerly, the idea of his teen idol slipping his young hot cock up his asshole making him tremble with excitement. He felt the singer's long blond hair fall over his shoulders as the fifteen-year-old pressed his hot body against his. Mico was in heaven. Tyler, meanwhile, had lubed up his cock and Zac's asshole and had penetrated him. The four teens began the slow rhythmic motions known to gay teens the world over.
Four hot boys connected by their throbbing young cocks, four hot boys blowing their hot breaths against each other, four hot teenage bodies flushed with sexual arousal and beaded with sweat, it was a scene hotter than any porno flick anyone could imagine. It was also a scene of four young boys enjoying a sport that thousands of boys the world over enjoy, a sport that required skills like any other sport did, and which brought pleasure and a sense of achievement equal to any other game. It was not, however, a scene that you could photograph and put up on the wall with the others.
For the sixth time that weekend, the young boys worked themselves to a blissful climax. For the sixth time that weekend, four hot young teen boys found bliss in the embrace of another boy, and pleasure in the hot climaxing of their own balls and those of a friend. For the sixth time that weekend, four loads of hot boy cum erupted from tight balls and were throbbed out by stiff, irritated cocks into receptive bodies. Totally spent, the four boys snuggled together and relaxed and listened to the stereo. Aerosmith was playing.
"I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
Well, I just wanna be with you
right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time."
It was not until close to noon before the boys got dressed. All four boys chose tank tops and shorts, Zac and Taylor even choosing a red pair of Adidas tops and white Adidas shorts, making them look even more identical, especially with both wearing their Star of David necklaces. As Mico looked from one to the other, he realized just how lucky he had been this weekend. He himself had chosen a dark blue top and red shorts, Tay's two favorite colors. Tyler had gone for a black mesh net top and Nike shorts. Dabbing on their favorite cologne and combing their hair, the four young boys kissed and embraced each other for one last time, and stepped out into the awaiting world.
The limo took them to a fifty-dollar-a-plate luncheon near the airport for a fundraiser for the local charity for the hungry that had been arranged for that weekend. They smiled for the photographers and chatted to the dignitaries, about what it was like to be a teenager, about music, and what it had been like to spend a weekend with a celebrity, and of course what it was like for Taylor to spend the weekend with three Jacksonville teens.
"Well," said Tay, "being able to jack that is, being here in Jacksonville, has been real cool. It has been great to just be me for forty-eight hours." The boys exchanged knowing glances, the four of them knowing just what the real Taylor Hanson was like being himself.
"And what did you boys think of having a weekend with a celebrity?"
"It was real hot," said Zac with an impish smile.
"Yeah," agreed Tyler, "we had one blast after another." The boys could barely retain their laughter.
"Well," said Mico, "Tay is just a normal red-blooded American teen like us, and we had a great time just doing things that a lot of boys enjoy doing together."
He smiled over at Tay, and as Tay smiled back at him, Mico felt a stirring in his shorts. A quick glance down at Tay's crotch revealed he was having the same experience. The two boys glanced back up at each other, a twinkle in their eyes, and let it happen.
Finally, they walked out to the private jet waiting to take Taylor back to California. Zac and Tyler said goodbye at the gate, and Mico and Tay walked out to the plane. The Hanson crew boarded, leaving the two teens alone. Slipping behind a loading cart, Tay gave Mico a quick kiss, and the two boys' fingers lingered at each other's bulging crotch for a few seconds.
"I'll send you a ticket to one of my concerts if you can come," Tay offered.
"You've drained me this weekend, but I suspect by then I'll be able to cum again," Mico replied with a leer.
"After the concert we can have a solo performance and find out," Tay rejoined, his lips curving into a suggestive smile also.
As Tay walked up the boarding stairs, Mico longed for his tight, cute ass, and when he turned and smiled and waved one last time, Mico ached for the hot singer's sweet kisses and hard hot cock. While he watched the jet take off and disappear in the hot afternoon Florida sky, he thought of the words of the Hanson song, "With You in Your Dreams".
"Remember me, remember me, 'cause I'll be with you in your dream, ohh, ohh
Don't cry, I'm with you, don't cry, I'm by your side
Don't cry, I'm with you, don't cry, I'm by your side
And though my flesh is gone, Hoo ohh
I'll still be with you at all times
And though my body is gone, Hoo ohh
I'll be there to comfort you at all times
hoo, ohh, hoo, ohh . . .
Hoo. I'll be with you in your dreams." | 3 |
5,589 | Merge | "You know what?" Caroline was talking softly, and I knew she was saying something confidential.
"What."
"Henderson told me: *no one* is being laid off."
"No one?" I responded, surprised. I did manage to whisper it.
"No one," she repeated. I think she looked relieved. *I* certainly was: we were all on pins and needles about the merger.
Yes, we'd been bought out. I guess it was too good to be true, with Caroline, who I got along very well with, as president: in fact, my own position as vice president was certainly nothing to sneeze at, but what I enjoyed most about it was having Caroline's trust. We *knew* each other, and we each knew the other could get the job done.
And it was all ending, one way or another. Henderson's company bought us out, and everyone in our company knew what that could mean. I'd supposed Caroline would have a relatively easy time of it, having been the most visible person in the company: I'd been a bit more nervous about my finding anything comparable to my present position. Besides, Caroline still has her youth, being in her thirties, and she has looks I never had: people might kid themselves that that doesn't count for much, but, well, studies show otherwise.
But now, at least I knew we had jobs. I looked around at the rest of the staff--Caroline shouldn't have told me: I really hated to see the rest of them worrying so much about Henderson. I knew I wouldn't betray Caroline's confidence, but keeping the secret while they all suffered certainly would bother me.
But they wouldn't have to wait too long: Henderson's people had already announced "reorganization meetings", and I was scheduled to attend one the following day.
I arrived at the appointed address at an unmarked office building on the other side of town and entered to find what appeared to be a rather large and generous office suite: I couldn't really tell how far it extended through the building. I was a bit surprised to find Henderson's company with such an established office right there in town: I would have thought we'd all have known about it. I was directed down the hall and to an office where a receptionist greeted me. A couple of others from our company were sitting there, waiting: Martha who is my secretary, as well as Grace, one of the other VPs. A man and woman who I didn't know were standing on the other side of the room, talking quietly.
I looked around for a place to sit, but the receptionist told me we could go into the conference room, pointing out a door behind her to her left. More people from our company were coming in, and soon I was following some of them into the conference room. The receptionist was also directing some of the people to another conference room to her right, so apparently there were two concurrent meetings.
I do remember one strange thing when we entered. The man and woman whom I didn't know were standing close to our conference room's door, and as we entered, I noticed that while the woman talked to the man, she sort of looked us over. In front of me was one of the other secretaries who was definitely well-endowed, and the woman practically leered at her like a man might! I actually felt a little strange walking in front of her and couldn't help wondering about her.
In the room, it turned out to be seven of us, all women. I wondered about that too, but it didn't worry me too much. Then the man I'd seen in the reception area came in and introduced himself as a consultant hired especially for the reorganization and for integrating us into the new company. He stood in front of us and started telling us about his ideas and the theory of good organization, and I realized in about two seconds he was extremely boring. Soon I wasn't really catching his words so much as simply hearing the drone of his voice.
"Grace Steadman," said the receptionist. I watched Grace stand and walk into the door the receptionist indicated. She did keep herself in good shape I noticed: she could easily model nude, but I figured Caroline must be better. Not that I'd seen Caroline in Grace's state. I watched Grace pad in, noticing she had distinct tan lines--when had she been on vacation? When she was gone, I looked back at Martha, sitting on the carpet next to me. Martha definitely had a body that looked good despite her size: even her stomach didn't show any "tires". I looked down at myself: I'm in pretty good shape right now, but any weight I put on goes right to my hips and thighs, leaving my chest as flat as ever. It would be nice to have a body like Martha's. Well, at least my rear is decent.
I wondered at the receptionist, with all these bare bodies hanging around her reception area. It must be a bit weird for her, and not all of us were that much to look at. She didn't seem fazed a bit by it, though. The door behind the receptionist opened a crack briefly, and she looked back. Then she looked at a paper on her desk again, and then called "Tamera Black."
Me. I stood up. There were still four from our group still sitting there. I approached the door but stopped and looked back at the receptionist. "Go on," she encouraged.
It was a large office and very plush. I didn't see any sign of Grace, but there was a man behind the desk and a few other men and women sitting and standing, all watching me enter. It was kind of embarrassing, standing there in front of them naked like that.
"Tamera," said a man sitting on a couch, looking at papers on a coffee table in front of him.
"Yes," I said. I just stood there, still feeling embarrassed.
"Vice President," he said. It wasn't a question, and I didn't respond.
No one else said any more, but the man behind the desk stood up and walked over to me. My eyes were on him: they were all dressed in suits, but I could see at a glance that this man was *really* dressed. As he approached, another man told me to go to the couch, and then to lean on it on my hands. Then the well-dressed man came up behind me.
I waited there, nervously, as he approached behind me. I didn't look back: somehow I knew I shouldn't. He touched me: his hand went between my legs. "She's dry," he said."This way," the man who'd led me over said, taking my arm and pulling me to standing and across the room. He brought me over to a woman, and I ended up standing in front of her. She felt my vagina too and gave a little mirthless laugh.
"Not aroused, are you?" she said. I didn't answer; I could tell she didn't really want me to say anything. While I stood there, the office door opened and Martha came in. The woman in front of me didn't stop touching me but started stroking me gently. She was also dressed very well, in a skirt-suit. She was blonde and looked to be in her late twenties. Something made me think MBA.
They had Martha leaning over, supporting herself with her hands on the couch, the way I had been. The woman with me took her hand off me and took some sort of device, putting it on her hand. It had an electric cord and attached to the back of her hand. She then threw a switch, and it hummed.
The well-dressed man had been feeling Martha. Then he'd opened his zipper, taken out his cock, and started doing it with her. "Oh, yes," he said in a second, but he only sounded a little affected by it. But Martha was starting to breathe really hard.
The woman put her hand on the front of my vagina. It was a vibrating device on her hand, and I was immediately going crazy: I don't remember experiencing anything like that before! She was moving her fingers, and her whole hand was vibrating! Her face was close to mine while she did it, and I ended up looking right into her eyes. She had this amused smile on her face. I was going to lose control--it was out of my hands.
Then she stopped. I stared at her: I couldn't believe she could do that! But it was only me being affected like that: she could stop any time she wanted. The man led me back to the couch. Martha was gone. Once again, I leaned over the couch. The man in the good suit felt me again. I was *very* wet.
He plunged in. Oh, god, it felt so good. I was coming in seconds, and he just kept pumping away. I moaned and moaned.
I felt weak: I felt lightheaded and worried about fainting for a second. One of the men pulled me to standing. "Not her, she takes too long to get wet," said the well-dressed man. The man leading me walked me to a door, opened it, and guided me through.
The door shut behind me. It was a small room, filled with women from our company. We were all naked, as had been the group in the reception area. I found a little area on the floor and sat down: I was completely beat. It felt scratchy sitting on the carpet, just as it had in the reception room. Martha wasn't there, but Caroline was. She looked listless: they all did.
Nothing happened: we just sat there. Finally, a door opened: a different one from the door to the office I'd just come from. Two women came in, leaving the door open. Behind it was a corridor, and I saw some women walking around dressed like nurses. But the two women who had entered were both in suits: sharp too, though the skirts were a little short.
"There she is," said one, and they pulled Caroline to standing. As I watched, I wondered what they were going to do. One of them stood behind Caroline and held her around the waist against herself, and the other one stood in front of Caroline, very close. She put a hand on Caroline's vagina and started moving it, and at the same time, leaned and started licking Caroline's upper lip with her tongue.
Caroline just stood there for about a second, but then she said "nooo," and started struggling, though she didn't seem to have the energy to get away from the two women.
The two women kept trying for a few seconds, then the one in front of Caroline turned to the open door and said: "Jill!"
A nurse came in, holding a syringe. As Caroline continued to struggle, the nurse injected her in the rear. A few seconds later, Caroline collapsed in the arms of the woman holding her, and a couple of nurses put Caroline's arms over their shoulders and dragged her over to a rolling stretcher.
I realized one of the women in suits was looking right at me. "What are *you* looking at? This bothering you?" she asked me.
I stood there with my mouth open. It was as if I were paralyzed and couldn't answer. The woman then called the nurse again, and the nurse was coming toward me with a syringe.
I was lying on my back, looking up at the lights in a corridor. I couldn't move my arms: apparently, I was being restrained. A nurse walked up and looked at me: "She's back," she said. She undid my arms and my legs too, which had apparently also been restrained, and soon she had me sitting up.
In front of me were three naked women, all kneeling, facing away from me. In front of each was a kind of meter of some kind. The nurse pulled me to standing and led me to a spot next to the others. There was a meter-like device in front of me, attached to a plastic or rubber protrusion. She had me kneel, and the protrusion was right in front of my face. "Suck," she said.
It was like a dildo or something. I put my mouth around it and started sucking. I saw the needle on the meter move as I started sucking.
"Good," she added. "Harder." I sucked harder, and the meter rose some more. "Come on, harder!" she added. I did my best. "Keep it up," she encouraged.
Another woman behind me said "Harder!" I tried. I felt hands on my body, on my breasts, then down my front to my vagina. They started stroking it, gently. "Harder," she repeated. I got the needle up a little more.
I felt her kneel right next to me, practically leaning against my body. "Harder and I'll..." she said, and suddenly her hand vibrated! Just like in the office before. Then the vibration was gone. "Now, harder, and I'll turn it on," she whispered in my ear. I sucked harder--as hard as I could. I got the needle up a little more.
I barely felt vibration. "More!" came the whisper. I managed to get the needle up a little more. The vibration increased, just a little. "More! More! Come on, you can do it!" came the voice. I was sucking as hard as I could, I thought, but I managed to get the meter up a little more, and that beautiful feeling continued to increase.
"You want it, don't you? Now *more*!" I felt like I was going to explode. I was doing absolutely everything I could. I did manage to edge it just a little higher.
"Yes! Now a little more, and I'll turn it all the way up!" It was too much! But this was it: somehow I managed to do just a little more, and suddenly it was like an explosion: I stopped sucking and fell away immediately as the vibrations racked through my body. I sat there, feeling like my heart was going to burst. "Well, that's enough for now," the nurse said.
I sat in the cell with Caroline. Our days were simple: off to that machine to suck on, then back to the cell. We didn't talk, though I'm not sure why. We just did what the nurses told us to.
But one day was different: I heard the rattling at the door, and it opened. I squinted at the brighter light: the little window in the door didn't let in enough light to keep my eyes used to it.
Two men came in the cell. Both naked, except for leather collars around their neck. I recognized one as a guy from our company. "Yesss!" he said, apparently to his friend: "I guess this *is* a reward!" He was looking at me, and then grabbed my hand and started pulling me up.
"Hey, this is the prez," said the other one. Then the guy with my hand dropped it and joined his friend at Caroline's bed. I just lay there, watching them. In a minute, they had Caroline on her hands and knees, one of their cocks in her mouth, the other one in her from behind.
"Ha, I bet you never thought you'd experience *this*," said the one who'd taken my hand briefly.
Soon they were done, and a nurse appeared in the door. She attached leashes to each of their collars and led them out. Caroline had collapsed on the floor, but another nurse pulled her up and attached a collar around her neck and a leash to it, then fastened her hands behind her back with handcuffs of some sort. "Well, I guess we've found a use for *you*", she said to Caroline, and pulled her out. The door shut, leaving me alone.
I stood in a little kitchen in one of the office suites. Two secretaries were there with me, making coffee and preparing a doughnut tray. I just stood there, naked. One of the secretaries put a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash to it. Then she fastened my hands together behind my back. Mostly we just waited.
A door opened. "We're ready," came the voice of the man poking his head out. The secretaries carried the coffee in. They both returned, one getting the tray of doughnuts, the other taking my leash and leading me in.
It was a conference room. Men and women were around the table, apparently having been at a meeting. Some were still sitting and talking, but a few had gathered around the coffee. I was led to a chair at the side of the room and made to kneel. I noticed that Martha was sitting at the conference table. She was dressed really nicely. A couple of the men getting coffee wandered over to where I was kneeling. One of them put down his coffee and sat in the chair in front of me. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. I started sucking immediately. Hard. My training worked well: I came almost immediately.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq. | 3 |
5,598 | Stacy's Senior Year | "Do you remember Peter Jenkins?"
Sharon looked up from her position on the bed, where she was skimming through the latest National Enquirer. Gary was sitting in front of his computer with an old Greenwood school yearbook open in his lap.
"Huh?"
"Jenkins," Gary repeated. "Peter Jenkins. He was in grade twelve when you were in grade nine." He turned and handed over the old school yearbook, pointing to a picture. "That guy. He went out for Stacy for a little while, but she broke up with him."
"Oh... that's right. He's the one who got so drunk at the Prom that he vomited all over himself; they had to throw him out."
"That's him." Gary took back the yearbook and gazed at the picture. "He was fucked up over Stacy for months: a real basket case."
Sharon glanced back at her National Enquirer for a moment, but then turned her attention back to her boyfriend. He must have something in mind, even if it was taking him a little while to get to it.
Gary just stared intently at the picture for a moment, saying nothing, and then went back to work on his computer.
"Yeah?"
Maybe a little prodding was necessary.
"Nothing special." He hit the return button on his computer, saving some work. That done, he turned back to Sharon.
"I heard he was working up in Point Hope."
Sharon waited silently for the other shoe to drop. This time, it was not long in coming.
"I was just thinking," he mused, gazing again at the yearbook, "that maybe we're being a little greedy, keeping Stacy to ourselves up here in Bakersville. Wouldn't it be nice if we could get him back together with his old high school flame... at least for one night?"
NUMBER 52 - 56
The game was over, and the players had long since showered up and left the building. Biff Talbot led his four friends into the now-deserted locker room. Together, they made up the first-string offensive line of the Greenwood Bulldogs, the football team at Greenwood High. As offensive linemen, they had not been picked for their speed, dexterity or intelligence. No; they occupied the position they did on the football team because of their size. The smallest of them, Billy Paxter - "little Bill" - was 6'2" and weighed just over 240 lbs. He received a lot of ribbing on the team because of his size.
Being an offensive lineman, even a good one, was not a particularly glamorous position. It was pretty much all grunt work - "down-in-the-trenches" kind of stuff. The type of football that won games by attrition, not by spectacular solo efforts. Hence, all the attention... all the acclaim; all the girls went to the players in the flashier positions, such as the quarterbacks and wide receivers and the like.
Until today.
Grinning his big, stupid grin, Biff flipped open the door to one of the unused lockers at the end of the wall.
"Holy shit!"
Stacy flinched at the sudden brightness.
She had been crouched in the locker for almost three hours, ever since the end of the game when Barry Packard had hustled her into the locker room just as the final few moments expired on the clock. Barry hadn't been "using" her since early January, when he had started going steady with another girl at school, but he hadn't forgotten Stacy either. Particularly when Neil had "explained" a few things to him. At first, he had been a little depressed at the knowledge that Stacy had only been fucking him because she was being forced to do so. Then he got angry; the bitch wouldn't give him the time of day unless she had to! At least he was seeing Heather now. And, he thought, philosophically, Stacy was such a slut these days, he didn't really want to fuck her anymore. She was used goods. Who knew where her pussy had been?
Nevertheless, although he might not want her anymore for himself, he could always do favours for his buddies. Stacy hadn't complained when he told her what she was to do, not that it would have done her any good. He had been quite prepared to "insist". She had just stared down at the ground and nodded her head silently when he had told her what she was going to do; all five guys were "new meat" (Sharon's term). Each fuck would bring her closer to the end of her ordeal.
"Get in," Barry ordered, opening up a locker. "Hurry."
Stacy hesitated slightly - the locker was pretty small - but then she obeyed. Making certain she had a firm grip on the small flask (red wine this time), she wriggled ass-first into the locker, facing outwards. Her tight little cheerleading costume - green, sleeveless blouse and white skirt - rode up on her thighs, exposing her bare pussy to the open air. Barry, unable to resist, reached down and fondled it, slipping his middle finger into her snatch and wiggling it around. Stacy had not yet ingested any of the wine, and thus squirmed away. Barry didn't notice.
A few seconds later, Barry stepped back to take a look. Stacy was wedged backwards into the locker, crouched on the heels of her feet, with her thighs splayed open. 'Looking good' he thought. 'Just one more...'
"Hold on," he muttered, moving away out of Stacy's line of vision. Stacy waited nervously. The game must be over by now. Any moment there would be...
"Here we are."
Barry had returned with a couple of dildos a foot long,
"I know how hot you are," he muttered bending down. "I wouldn't want you to get lonely down here while you're waiting." He reached under her crotch and slowly inserted one of the dildos handles into her dry pussy. Stacy squealed and tried to wriggle away, but the silver tube slid quickly up into her pussy until about eight inches of it was lost from view. Barry propped it up on the base of the locker. Stacy tried to push herself away, but was only able to move up about four inches before her head hit the top of the locker; she was now effectively impaled on the handle until she left the enclosed space.
Leering, Barry passed the other to her.
"This is for your mouth," Barry instructed her. "When my buddies open this locker, I expect you to be tonguing it the way you sucked my cock a couple of months ago."
Stacy looked up at him from where she crouched in the locker, her eyes watering with humiliation. "If not," he continued, unrelenting, "I'll have to complain to Sharon." He smirked at her. " We wouldn't want that, would we?"
A tear trickled down Stacy's cheek as she nodded.
"How about a demonstration?" Barry suggested.
Stacy hesitated momentarily, but then brought the handle up to her mouth and began tonguing and licking it. She closed her eyes as she did so, trying to imagine that it was a real cock; that she was anywhere but here...
FLASH!
Stacy's eyes flew open. Barry was standing in front of her with a polaroid camera. He took another picture while she stared at him in panic and then lowered the camera.
"Looking good," he laughed.
Stacy turned red, but continued sucking hungrily at the handle as she had been ordered to do.
Still laughing, Barry moved forward and slammed shut the locker door. Inside, Stacy pulled the handled out of her mouth and reached down for the thermos, wincing as the slight movement caused the unwelcome visitor in her pussy to grind itself in a little further.Stacy had remained in the cramped confines of the locker for the next three hours before Biff and the rest of the linemen arrived. It had been quite hot in the locker room, particularly as the boys were showering, and by the end of the three hours, her entire body was damp with sweat. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist, and the shirt of the cheerleading outfit, never all that concealing in the first place, was now plastered to her upper body, clearly revealing her rock-hard nipples.
She had gone through most of the wine in the thermos, more from thirst than anything else, and she was almost unbearably horny. More than once during her stay in the locker, she had been tempted to burst out and grab one of the cocks that floated so temptingly across her limited field of vision (there were small ventilation slits in the front of the locker), but common sense - and a good dose of fear - had won out. There were over twenty boys in the locker room. And she still had some pride left. Her sluttishness was not yet common knowledge at Greenwood, and she desperately wanted to keep it that way. Only another fifteen or so guys to fuck.
So, in the end, she had to settle for sliding up and down on the now-slippery handle Barry had stuck in her pussy. By doing so and wriggling around as much as she could, she managed to bring on several small orgasms in the course of the three hours as the boys of the football team showered and changed, unsuspecting, all around her. At one point, she was afraid that her moans would give her away, but she was unable to stop herself from sliding up and down on the metal "cock".
So instead, she stuck the second handle in her mouth and began to suck, thus muffling any noises she might have made. Three hours passed slowly...
"Holy shit!"
Stacy Richards squinted up at the surprised football players from inside the locker. Her cheerleading outfit was plastered to her sweat-soaked body. Her pussy, clearly displayed from in between her splayed thighs, sucked hungrily at the shiny metal cylinder as she slid herself up and down on it. Her hands clutched another metal cylinder - barbell handle, Biff realized - and slid it suggestively in and out of her mouth, between her shiny, wet lips. Her charm bracelet jingled quietly as she moved the metal handle up and down, all the while making quiet moaning sounds around the object in her mouth.
Biff tore his eyes away from this incredible sight and turned to his equally stunned friends.
"Guys," he chortled, "I give you... Stacy Richards. She's ours for the evening."
"Jesus."
They couldn't believe it. Stacy Richards; the Stacy Richards who had been flaunting herself in front of them from the sidelines these last three years; the Stacy Richards who had teased them, yet only gone out with the quarterbacks and other stars; the Stacy Richards of their dreams. Bill moved forward first, reaching into the locker.
"Wait," Biff told him. Barry had given him some instructions. "Just wait a second."
Biff moved forward and looked down on Stacy. She looked back up at him, tears of humiliation burning in her large, green eyes; tears of humiliation... and something else. He reached down and gently took away the barbell handle she had been sucking on. She moaned softly, but didn't resist as he slid it out from between her lips.
"Stacy," he said quietly, "is there something you'd like to say?" Despite what Barry had told him, Biff still couldn't really believe she would say it. Once again, he was surprised.
"Fuck me," she moaned, eyes closing as she ground the second handled deeper and deeper into her sopping pussy. "I need your cocks."
This was enough for the guys, and they surged forward. Biff, however, held them back again. One more thing...
"What do you say?" he asked the desperate girl.
She looked up at him for a few moments, but then glanced away, unable to meet his eyes.
"Please..."
"What? I didn't hear you."
Stacy looked up at him, lips parted. "Please," she said, her voice louder. "Please fuck me. I need you all; I n-need your cocks in me. Please fuck me... p-please shoot your sperm into me. Please..."
And they did.
Friday afternoon. 3:45 PM. The school cafeteria was almost empty, as most of the students at Greenwood had, typically, declined the opportunity to hang around the school after classes. The weekend beckoned, and, with the wonderful late spring weather, the beach was exerting its almost magnetic pull on the teenagers of Bakersville.
The cafeteria was not, however, completely deserted. Three students sat, quietly talking, in a corner table. Gary, as usual, did most of the talking. He was also the one who handed out the latest round of money from the sale of pictures to various magazines. May had been a good month for them as far as picture sales went. Stacy had now unwittingly adorned the pages of over a dozen magazines across the country, with more to come. It was only a matter of time before she found out - before someone in Bakersville saw some of the pictures and spread the news - but they didn't really care. Their time with Stacy was nearly done anyway.
The main cafeteria door opened and Karen walked in, followed closely by Ashley. The two girls had spent more and more time together over the last six weeks as Karen tightened her hold over the older girl. Like Stacy, Ashley was the victim of blackmail, and, as had been the case with Stacy, events had quickly moved beyond her control. Since the incident which put her in this vulnerable position in the first place, there had been any number of events which had deepened Karen's hold on her. All Ashley could think of was the end of the school year and freedom. All Karen could think of was how nice it was to have such a beautiful girl as Ashley as a personal slave, and how hard it would be to give it up.
If she gave her up...
"Wait here," Karen ordered, moving towards her three friends in the corner. Obediently, but not without a flash of anger, the tall brunette sat down on a bench near the door.
"What's up?" Karen asked as she approached. "Neil said you wanted to meet."
"Just the final plans for tomorrow night," Sharon told her. "The football party." She looked over at where Ashley sat, staring at the floor. "Everything's cool with her? Did she cause any problems?"
Karen plopped herself down beside Neil. "No," she answered. "No problem. We'll be there."
"Great," Sharon smiled. "I've got the perfect costume picked out; the guys are gonna love her." Neil chuckled at this, but Karen only frowned.
"Listen," she said tentatively, "she's not gonna get... you know... hurt or anything like that?"
"Ha," Neil laughed. "Just get her brains fucked out. That's all."
"No," Karen ignored him. "I mean like, beaten, or... well... you know."
"Huh uh," Sharon shook her head. "Nothing like that. It's just a party; the guys on the football team at BCN just want to celebrate the end of the season with a big blow out. Stacy was such a big hit the last time, they want her back again." Sharon looked over at Gary who didn't react. "I offered them Ashley as well because you said you wanted the money. They were willing to pay twice as much for two girls."
Karen looked undecided.
"There's not a problem with that, is there?" Gary asked.
Karen looked over at Gary, meeting his intense stare for a few moments and then looking away.
"No," she answered finally. "I just don't want her hurt. That's all."
The table fell silent for a few moments.
"OK then," Sharon stated. "That's settled. You'll meet us at my house at eight to get the girls dressed."
"Yeah," Karen told her, getting to her feet. "We'll be there." This said, she turned and walked away towards the waiting Ashley. She walked straight past her and out the door. After a confused glance at the three teenagers in the corner, Ashley scrambled to her feet and followed her out.
"What was that all about?" Neil muttered.
"Dunno." Sharon shrugged her shoulders.
Gary laughed. His two friends turned towards him. "It's spring," he explained, grinning.
"Huh?"
"You know," Gary insisted. "Spring. Birds and bees and that sort of thing."
His two friends stared at him, blank looks on their faces.
Gary sighed.
"I think our Karen is falling in love..."
When Peter Jenkins had called to invite her to a party up in Point Hope, Stacy had jumped at the opportunity. Peter was two years older than her, and had been a senior at Greenwood when Stacy had been in grade ten. They had gone steady for a little while - about nine dates altogether - but Stacy had eventually dumped him when the current captain of the football team had expressed an interest in her. She had never really seen much of Peter after that; she knew that he didn't get another girlfriend that year, but never really thought about it. In her mind, the split-up had been entirely natural, and, if it bothered him, well... he'd just have to grow up a bit, wouldn't he?
Thus, when he called her up, she had not hesitated to accept his invitation. He had moved to the nearby town of Point Hope after graduation, where he worked as a clerk in a department store. For Stacy, it represented the chance to get away from her present situation; to go to a party with people who didn't know her and wouldn't force her to have sex with them. It sounded perfect.
She even bought a new dress for the occasion. A sleeveless green dress with little ruffles on the shoulders. It matched her eyes perfectly, and, she thought, it made her look a bit like a little girl. She had made a mental note to do her hair up into a pony tail. It was the sort of look which used to drive the guys wild back when she had enjoyed that sort of teasing.Now, of course, she was obliged, as often as not, to put out, so the cock-teasing was not as much fun as it used to be.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, she could be her old self. No one in Point Hope knew her or went to Greenwood. It would be just like old times.
Peter showed up at 7:00 PM as planned. It was almost a two-hour drive to Point Hope, so he wanted to leave fairly early. She had been ready a good fifteen minutes before he arrived, but she still kept him waiting downstairs for almost half an hour; it was just like old times.
He hadn't changed much. Always rather short, the last couple of years had seen his body fill out quite a bit until he was beginning to show a bit of pudginess. Obviously, the clerking job at the department store didn't involve much physical activity. Stacy felt herself sneering a bit as he led her out to his car - a somewhat battered Toyota Tercel; he was turning into a bit of a slob. The way he looked now, he couldn't be getting too much attention from any girls; that was probably why he had turned to his old high school girlfriend for a date at this party. No doubt he'd be so overwhelmed at having such a beautiful date as herself, he'd do whatever she wanted. What a schmuck!
The drive up the coast to Point Hope was not particularly scenic. The only real nice part of the drive came just as they passed by the Point Hope Maximum Security Penitentiary and crested the hill leading down into the town itself. Point Hope was a quiet little town nestled against the beach below the sandstone cliffs. The view from the top of the hill was little short of spectacular.
Stacy, however, had seen it all before. Besides, she was having too much fun annoying Peter. The two-hour drive had been marked by small talk and long silences, but Stacy had quickly discovered that Peter was still easily upset by talk of their brief relationship a couple years earlier in high school. He had flushed an angry red when she had brought it up earlier in the trip, and had, since then, shut up almost entirely. Stacy, however, was enjoying herself immensely. She made a point of bringing it up as often as possible. By the time they arrived at the party, she was in a great mood, and Peter was quiet and sullen.
Peter fought to remain patient as he led Stacy up the walk to the front door. This had better be worth it!
He had received a phone call from a guy - some kid - at Greenwood, telling him something about Stacy's recent activities, and about her "weakness" for alcohol. The caller had suggested that once she had a couple of drinks in her, she would do anything, and that 'wouldn't it be nice if the two of them got back together for a date.'
Peter wasn't sure if he believed him, but it was worth a try. Stacy had been an incredible bitch to him in high school, and any chance to get even was well worth attempting.
Since the phone call, he had been experiencing this recurring fantasy...
Stacy quickly realized that she was overdressed for the party. Most of the guests seemed to be blue-collar workers from a local fish packing plant; the majority of them wore nothing more fancy than jeans and t-shirts. Stacy was the only woman there in a dress. She was also the only one young enough to be in high school.
Peter immediately brought her a glass of punch. When she sipped at it, Stacy discovered that it was a bit strong for her taste, but not too bad. She took another, longer, drink from the glass. The way things were shaping up at the party, a couple of drinks might well be called for. The whole idea of coming to this party with her ex-boyfriend was beginning to look like a bad idea. A little alcohol never hurt anyone; she finished the drink. Peter brought her another one and stood talking with her while she finished that one as well.
He asked her to dance.
At first, everything went well. The music was up-tempo and the dancing was fun, despite her inappropriate dress. After a while, though, she began to feel a bit queasy. It must have been the punch. In fact, she realized suddenly, if felt a little like...
A new song started. A slow song.
Peter pulled her close, into his chest; instinctively, she draped her bare arms over his shoulders and they began to dance, slowly revolving around the dance floor. As they danced, Stacy began to experience the now-familiar feeling of disassociation as the room started to spin. She closed her eyes and held on to Peter's shoulders, trying to fight off the dizziness. The drug! They had drugged her; Gary must have arranged this.
Panicked, Stacy tried to disentangle herself, but she was unable to do so. Her limbs failed to respond properly, and it was all she could do to hold onto her dance partner in order to keep herself from sinking to the floor. Around and around they went, each revolution sending Stacy's perception spinning, until all she was aware of in the room was Peter. There was nothing else; just a blur of sound and a solid object she could hang onto.
She felt the warm tingling begin in her groin.
"Stacy..."
A voice! Her eyes opened and struggled to focus on the face in front of her. Peter? Everything else was a blur.
"Do you remember going out with me in high school?"
Remember? Of course she remembered. Stacy nodded in the affirmative, still trying to focus. Why was he asking? The tingle in her groin grew stronger.
"We went on nine dates," Peter murmured to her. "Nine dates..."
Stacy felt one of his hands leave her shoulder, slide down the back of her dress and latch onto her ass. She felt that she should make some objection, but...
"And all I got was one kiss," the voice continued. "One kiss..."
The blonde teenager tried to focus on what Peter was saying, but the hand on her butt was making concentration difficult. She felt the hand pull away...
"One kiss..."
...and begin pulling the zipper of her dress down her back. She tried to wriggle free, but her arms remained wrapped around Peter's shoulders.
"I don't think that's fair. Do you?"
"N-no." Stacy discovered that she could speak, although even her own voice seemed distant to her. The zipper was now all the way down, and she could feel the cool air of the room on the small of her back. The feelings of arousal increased, spreading up from her crotch into her belly. Involuntarily, she ground her lower body against Peter as the dance continued.
"So," Peter continued, "we're going to work through those dates now. All nine of them. As they should have been."
Stacy tried to shake her head, no. Not here; she wanted him to take her to a bedroom or something... do what he wanted there, but not here. Not in front of...
"First date," he whispered, his tongue licking out at her ear. "A kiss would be nice."
Retreating from her ear, he brought his lips down against hers. She moaned softly, parting her lips, but he quickly pulled away. That felt so good, but not here. Please, not here.
"Second date," he continued. One of the straps of the dress slid off a shoulder. She tried to shrug it back on, but it just slipped further down her arm.
"Maybe some tongue."
This time, he thrust his tongue into her willing mouth. She kissed back, unable to do anything else as a wave of lust surged through her body. Oh god...
The kiss broke, but the dance continued.
The dance continued through the "third date", where he copped a feel of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her nipples hardened immediately when he ran his fingers over them.
On the "fourth date", he removed her bra, unclipping it from behind her back and sliding it off. By now, her dress had slid down off the other shoulder, uncovering her back all the way down to the top of her ass and leaving her breasts partly exposed...
More of the same on the "fifth date". Some heavy necking while mauling at her now almost-naked breasts. By now, Stacy was panting with lust, all thought of where she was and who she was with having fled her mind. All that mattered was...
The dance. She missed what he said on the "sixth date", but by the end of the "seventh", she was grinding her crotch against him with abandon...
"Eight date," he panted, hoarse. "It's time you felt my cock."
She didn't need to be told twice. Groaning with lust, she disentangled one arm from around his neck and reached down to his crotch. With an ease born of much practice, she pulled down the zipper and slide his cock free of his pants. It was already damp and rigid...
"Ninth date," he gasped. "You need to be fucked." He looked at her. "Beg for it."
"Please fuck me," she moaned. "I need to be fucked. Please put your lovely cock into me, Peter. Fill me up. Please..."
Peter could take no more. He had been dreaming of this moment for over two years. With a cry, he shoved her back against the wall, pulled one of her legs up, and shoved his cock straight into her dripping pussy. The dress, bunched up at the waist to allow him access to her pussy, fell forward, abandoning any pretence of covering her breasts.
Stacy didn't care.
Holding onto his shoulders, she wrapped both legs around Peter's ass and fucked him right back as he drove her again and again against the wall. She drooled and slobbered and squirmed out her lust, all the time moaning and crying for him to fuck her harder.
He obliged...
The last trembling vestige of orgasm rippled though her beaten body. Groggy, she looked up from the floor where she sat, propped against the wall. Just as she did so, a flash went off...and then another.
Dazed, the blonde teenager looked around. She was lying, practically naked, against the wall, her green dress a shapeless mess around her waist.A group of people - the guests at the party - were standing around, looking down on her and laughing. A few of them had cameras and were using them. She heard the words "slut" and "whore" being used in conversation.
Were they talking about her?
Just as had happened before, the orgasm seemed to have burned away the effects of the drugs, leaving Stacy clear-headed and sober. Sobbing with embarrassment, she stumbled to her feet, her breasts bobbing merrily, clutching her dress around her as the crowd laughed.
Another flash went off.
The dress didn't seem torn, and she quickly had it back over her breasts, but she was unable to zip it up on her own. Eyes downcast, she pushed her way through the crowd, looking for...
"Peter!"
He was standing with a couple of guys near the entrance to the kitchen, drinking a beer. "What... what are you..."
He looked over at her and smirked. "I'd heard that you had become quite a slut since my days at Greenwood. I just wanted to see if it was true."
Stacy stopped talking and began to cry. Yet another flash went off.
"Stop it," she cried, spinning around to strike out at whoever was taking the picture. The blow missed, however, and she succeeded only in letting the front of her dress flop forward again. Two pictures were taken of her re-exposed breasts before she was able to cover up.
Furious, she turned back to Peter. "Take me home," she ordered. "Now."
Peter just laughed. "Are you kidding? Get home yourself, you slut." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. "Take this," he said, handing it to her. "There's a bus depot just down the block. There are buses to Bakersville every couple of hours."
Stunned, she held the ten dollar bill in her hand, staring at him. Eventually, she turned and stumbled through the laughing crowd to the door, still holding her unzipped dress around her.
"And Stacy," Peter called out from behind her.
She turned; maybe he was going to give her a ride after all.
"You were worth every penny."
The crowd roared with laughter as Stacy, tears running down her face, ran out into the cool night air... | 3 |
5,599 | The Legend 4 | "It happened like I say."
"Come on, Dad! We know you've been sipping your ale. It's the ale talking."
"I swear it. Your great-grandfather, he saw it, plain as day."
"Where did it happen, Dad?"
"Right here. Close enough."
"Tell us again, Dad."
Owain Morgan settled back in his chair and tamped his clay pipe. He stared at the two youngsters, his sons, fifteen and seventeen. Hard men, farming men. Wresting a precarious living from the thin soil of the hills made them men before their time. The candle flickered as he grabbed his tankard, the head frothing over the side as he waved it towards the window, out across the rain-drenched hills. He told the tale his father told him, passed on from generation to generation.
"It was the battle of Builth Wells," he started.
Wyn, his eldest, cut in. "There wasn't any battle of Builth Wells."
"Maybe 'battle' is too strong a word. The fight of Builth, we'll be calling it then."
"Aye, the fight. Carry on, Dad."
"Then the fight. A little battle, to be sure, but guts were spilt right enough. English guts. The boys had caught a coach, packed through with damsels and guarded by dragoons. Lady Morris of Trecwn and her three comely daughters. Visiting their cousin in Strata Florida, a-worshipping and a-taking the waters, you see. Travelling at night they were, riding by the light of the moon. Rich women, tidy women. Slim of limb, proud of breast. Noble women, high of carriage, soft of flesh. Women you be dreaming about."
He looked at his sons. They sat mesmerized by the visions in their heads. It was just like when he first heard the tale. He took time to refresh his pipe as they fidgeted impatiently. At last, he continued.
"They were captured by the boys. 'Twas a good day. The dragoons were in terror of naked Welsh steel."
"Ah!" The dream of the Welsh since Edward Longshanks had bestrode the Cambrian Mountains and built his mighty grey castles, and Owain Glyndwr was slain by treacherous turncoats. Welsh steel, English blood. The dream, the dream.
"Then, Dad! What happened then?"
"They were a-calling and a-wailing, but the boys carried them off. Would make fine serving wenches. Made I laugh, great-granddad said, fine women serving the boys. Serving them in fine ways too, not just food and liquor, but in closer ways. In the ways of men and women."
The younger man's eyes lit up. It was sex his dad was alluding to. The dark shadow between Anharad's legs when he caught her bathing in the brook. That be sex. He dreamed about it in his loft. His brother, who had bedded Blodwyn the Red in the haybarn last year, smiled nonchalantly.
"Go on, Dad."
"The next morning they came. The men from the valleys. Miners, see. Brought from England. Called themselves Welsh. But they couldn't speak our language. Welshmen they were not. They came, tracking, looking for the boys."
"Grrh!" Cursed miners, gathered from the flatlands of Derbyshire to hew the coal and the gold from under the feet of the true-born Celts.
"Leading the Redcoats. Finding the boys. Surrounded them they did, see."
"How'd they get away, Dad? Was Great-Granddad killed?"
Owain looked askance at his youngest son. Bright he was not!
"Look you. I'll be a-telling the story. If you want me to finish, then you will put the cover on the well."
"Sorry, Dad."
"Better. The boys, they be a-thinking with these big English turnabouts after them. They tried to get into the Lyswen Forest, but the women were a-dragging 'em back. It 'twas then that great-granddad had his idea. He forced the women to undress and he tied them to the trees on the edge of the forest, with nothing protecting them."
"That musta been a sight, ay, Dad?" Exclaimed his youngest, his face flushed with the thought of it.
"My Dad, he told I that Great-Granddad says the same. 'Twas the same for the miners. A rabble they were, see. Saw these women all defenseless and they forgets the chase, see. Falls on the women. Taking their chastity like."
Again, he paused to relight his pipe.
"Great-granddad, he stayed on, hidden in the forest, see. Watched the miners take the women, all screaming and struggling. Then the dragoons they came. The leader was Lord Morris. He was powerful angry, seeing his womenfolk being used like that. So he sets his dragoons onto the miners. 'Twas a mighty fight, with no quarter given. Great-Granddad, he called the boys back, and just as the dragoons started to win, they fell on them and killed them all."
"They all got killed? All the English?"
"'Tis true, boy. Then great-granddad, he says that it weren't right that the women should be left alone out there. 'Cause their master, he be killed too. So they took them. They produced many a fine son and a handsome girl 'cause they were made to serve all the single men in the hills. Put new blood into the hills it did, see. Made us strong, helped us fight. They say there is a bit of Lady Morris in all of us. Maybe it be true." | 4 |
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