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3,563 | "Romantic Interludes" | "Jeremy, please make love to me."
Eyes wide, my head shot up at the soft, simple request from my fiancée, Lisa. Seated on the sofa next to the chair I was in, while I read a magazine, Lisa's expression was rather gentle... almost innocent.
I had been engrossed in my reading while Lisa watched one of her favorite television shows here in the living room. Her request for romance was completely out of the blue. But at the same time, it could not be called a surprise. I have come to expect just about anything from my darling fiancée.
Lisa's brown eyes flashed with quiet lust as she patted the sofa cushion next to her - giving me an invitation. How could I ever possibly refuse her?
"With pleasure, sweetheart," was my response as I dropped the magazine and joined her on the sofa.
Lisa squealed with glee as I embraced her with both arms, my lips moving toward hers for a kiss. Our lips met and shared a gentle exchange for several seconds, my arms firmly around Lisa's voluptuous body. Then, I felt her tongue sneak out and gently swipe away at my upper lip. In return, I extended my tongue and met hers... then we both moaned.
Once I slid my right hand from her back down to her bottom, Lisa increased the ferocity of the kiss. I pinched her jeans-clad bottom and she squealed, then our shared kiss became really intense. Lisa's tongue dove deeply into my mouth and swirled around its walls and recesses in mad, frantic circles. She wrapped her arms around me as well, and offered a firm embrace. My tongue sought hers, and the two subsequently got into a playful "sword" fight.
With both hands now, I cupped her curvaceous bottom and squeezed it hard. Lisa moaned and sagged against me, but nonetheless continued the ferocious onslaught upon my mouth with her lips and tongue.
My cock already felt as if it was about to burst inside the confines of the dark slacks I wore. Lisa had her pelvis pushed hard against my erection, grinding away at it. I was well aware that if she kept that up, my shaft would soon explode right in my slacks.
Not wanting to do that, I broke the kiss and pulled away from her a little bit. Lisa looked at me as I dropped to my knees on the floor, with her still on the sofa above me. Then, she giggled with glee as I reached for her white blouse and started undoing its buttons. My blonde angel continued smiling as I finished off all of the buttons.
Lisa whisked off the stylish blouse in a hurry, leaving a white bra as the only thing keeping her from being topless. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, my hands going for the bra-snap behind her back. While doing so, I nuzzled my lips against her neck and kissed its sensitive skin. Lisa sighed contentedly as I unsnapped the bra and kissed her neck, then I pulled the white garment off of her.
Even though I have seen her nude hundreds of times, I had to stop for a brief moment and admire Lisa's breasts. Large and firm, her breasts are the type which I could worship for the remainder of my life. They are, in a word, perfect. A lovely pair of 37c's, each breast is capped by a puffy pink aureole, with a sensitive nipple in the center of each.
I moved my right hand to the underside of one of her firm breasts, then lifted its sensual weight. As I cupped and squeezed her round breast, Lisa let out a moan in response.
Eventually, however, my mouth descended toward one of her nipples and started to suck gently. In return, Lisa sighed and placed both of her hands on either side of my head.
Soon, I began swiping my tongue over and across her erect nipple. Lisa continued to voice her approval as my mouth moved between her ample cleavage and tasted its sweet delights. I could hear her nearby heartbeat; it was going at a mile-a-minute. My hands then cupped and squeezed both of Lisa's breasts as I continued paying homage to her wonderful cleavage. She sighed while running her long, supple fingers throughout my short brown hair.
"Hmmm... I love you," I mumbled into the deepened valley between her breasts.
"I love you too," she squealed, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "I love you more than anything."
I embraced my 20-year-old fiancée tightly, yet still continued to feast upon her cleavage. As is often the case during one of our lovemaking sessions, however, Lisa had something else than simple foreplay or kissing on her mind. That, of course, would be fellatio.
"I want to give you a blowjob," came her breathy moan. My face detracted from her cleavage, and I stared up at her. "Can I?" Her request was so sweet and genuine. It conveyed her intense desire for sucking cock.
I smiled at her, then slowly stood up. "I'm all yours."
Lisa giggled with lust as she slid from the sofa and dropped down to her knees in front of me. Quickly, her hands went to work on my belt, unlooping and then taking it off. She ripped at my slacks, pushing them and my briefs down in a rush. As a result, my erection sprang up and dangled between Lisa's beautiful face.
As she smiled and gently grasped my cock with her left hand, I managed to step out of my shoes, then kick my slacks and briefs away as well. What a mix - Lisa was nude above the waist, whereas I was nude below the waist. I had on a shirt and she still wore jeans and sneakers.
On her knees, Lisa glanced up at me, her brown eyes aglow with passion and lust. I could not help but to shudder with excitement as Lisa extended her tongue and offered my full erection a loving swipe. She giggled at my response, then teasingly ran her tongue along the full length of my cock.
"Do you like this?" she squealed at me, holding back a laugh at the same time. She already knew the answer.
"Oh yes!" I exclaimed. "Ohhhhh sweetheart... ohhh... no one can suck cock like you. No one at all!"
She giggled at my praise, a happy expression upon her face. I would find it very difficult to go on in life without Lisa's expert mouth to service my cock. It is no joke to say that I have become addicted to her.
I gasped as Lisa's left hand slowly tightened around my enlarged shaft. Again she giggled, this time while giving it a couple of hard squeezes. All the while, her eyes stayed in direct contact with mine. What a powerful sight; her piercing eyes in contact with mine as she caressed and squeezed my erection. But then...
A deep, drawn-out moan escaped from Lisa's throat as she slipped my shaft between her pouty, red lips. As her left hand cupped my testicles and gently squeezed them, Lisa closed her moist lips around my member and began to feverishly suck upon it. With her right hand, she grasped the very base of my cock and started to pump away at it.
Quickly, I whisked my shirt up and off. Now, I stood before her - completely nude.
Within a matter of seconds, Lisa was working my hard cock in and out of her mouth at a steady, but not fast speed. A deep moan escaped her throat as she looked up at me, which in turn caused me to sigh. Seeing her mouth stuffed with my cock while she looks up at me is a definite turn-on.
I growled with sheer passion as I felt the tip of my cock collide with the back of Lisa's throat with each hot intake. The collisions came quicker too, due to the increasing speed of Lisa's head as she bobbed back and forth upon my erection. Meanwhile, she continued to knead my balls with her left hand, while pumping the base of my cock with her right.
Lisa made a loud gagging noise as her cheeks hallowed around my hard cock, her head now bobbing back and forth at warp speed. She was sucking me off like there was no tomorrow; as if this was her last act on Earth. I growled in pure passion above her while reaching the boiling point.
All of a sudden, Lisa whipped my shaft out of her mouth. In one quick motion, she encircled its base with both of her hands, while extending her tongue from her wide-open mouth. She aimed my cock at her tongue...Then I roared in lust as a thick strand of cum shot out from my shaft and splattered over Lisa's tongue. She began pumping away at me with both hands, wanting more. I obliged her, as a series of heavy spurts erupted from within me and covered Lisa's lovely face. The whole time, I kept moaning while getting the royal treatment from my angel fiancée.
Once my shaft was drained of all its juicy sperm, I opened my eyes and looked down at Lisa. Her face and long blonde hair were soaked in my cum, but she sure didn't seem to mind. In fact, Lisa was giggling in lust as she wiped her face with her fingertips, then sucked each dry.
"Oh, you are definitely a sweetheart," I grinned while dropping to my knees and kissing a dry spot on her forehead. "I love you Miss Lisa - more than anything."
She continued giggling while sucking her fingertips dry of all the thick jizz. "I love you too, Jeremy."
I smiled at her. "You're so great at sucking cock. Let me return the favor - I want to eat your pussy."
"You can eat my pussy," Lisa chirped, "only if you promise to fill me with your cock afterwards."
I shook my head and laughed at those words. "How could I refuse such an offer? You got a deal, sweetheart!"
Lisa flashed a charming smile as she spread her thighs and then laid down upon her back. With her knees in the air and feet on the floor, she offered me a wide open, direct invitation to her sweet pussy. The only problem was, Lisa was still completely dressed from the waist down.
No matter, as I took care of that minor problem in just a couple of seconds. Quickly, I got rid of her sneakers and socks, then slid her jeans and panties down and off. Lisa spread her thighs wide again, giving me an open invitation.
I felt life jump back into my shaft while laying down and positioning myself between her stretched thighs. Wasting no time at all, I grasped Lisa's hips with both hands and then extended my tongue toward her intoxicating spot...
Lisa moaned and shuddered with excitement as I swiped my tongue across her moist clitoris. I lapped away at the tender skin-flap, my hands massaging her round hips.
"Oooooh..." Lisa groaned in undeniable arousal. "Ooooh, I want your tongue in me... Please... Your tongue..."
I drove my tongue deep into the wet recesses of her pussy, tasting its many treats. At the same time, I moved a finger to her clitoris and began diddling with it. Lisa let out her loudest moan of the night at that new sensation.
I continued to lick away at her womanly folds as she started to rumble and vibrate upon the floor. My tongue was moving very quickly; I was swiping it around inside her as fast as humanly possible. Of course, she tasted great.
Once I plunged my tongue all the way inside her, Lisa's stomach muscles tightened violently and she let out a loud, deafening squeal of sensual approval.
Even though I had her very close to an orgasm with my mouth, I decided that there was a better way to bring Lisa off. She had earlier requested that I penetrate her. Now, it was time to grant her wish.
Growling with lust myself, I rose up to my knees between Lisa's widespread thighs. My cock was fully erect once again; ready to give my beautiful fiancée the type of hot workout which she treasured the most.
Lisa squealed with sheer delight as I mounted her in the missionary position. Fisting my cock, I pressed it hard against her tight slit and rubbed it in erotic circles. Lisa moaned as her face rocked from side to side, in utter pleasure. She loves it when I tease her like this.
Nevertheless, I was not in much of a teasing mood. Very quickly, I forged my enlarged shaft between the tight confines of her damp pussy, and slid it all the way inside. Both of us moaned with extreme passion while I settled my cock deeply in her - as deep as it could possibly go.
As is always the case, Lisa's insides were gripping and clutching my erection like a powerful, unforgiving vice. I had to wince at the pressure upon my cock; it almost hurt. No complaints, though - it was a good hurt. I welcomed it!
Lisa cried in passion as I pulled out slightly, only to thrust back into her very powerfully. My arms hooked under her knees, at my shoulders, I started a series of forceful strokes that made Lisa growl with lust.
My thrusting hips quickly reached a thunderous speed and as a result, my testicles slapped hard against Lisa's tight, upturned bottom with each forward plunge. Together the both of us rocked and screamed in unequaled desire, our bodies quickly becoming drenched with perspiration.
I kept pounding her, harder and harder, and soon she dug her sharp, red fingernails into my back. That, however, only made me slam her harder.
While thrusting away at her, my mind was lost in a sea of lust and desire. I couldn't think. My body was simply relying on instinct now. I kept drilling Lisa, jamming my hard shaft in and out of her at a furious, remarkable pace. An earth-shattering pace. An unbelievable pace!
Lisa's body was flopping around beneath me as I continued to hammer her, while her firm, plentiful breasts bounced about wildly in the process. It was truly an intense, heated coupling - just the type that Lisa and I enjoy.
Suddenly, I growled in a passionate rage, then buried my shaft all the way into Lisa's overheated slit. I had sensed an explosion within me coming, and knew that it was now time.
Lisa screamed in passion as a helping of sperm jettisoned itself from my cock directly into her pussy. I continued to empty my seed into Lisa, wanting to flood her insides with my thick and gooey cum. Initially, there were two large gushes of sperm that shot out... and they were followed by a series of several smaller ones.
Once I was tapped out, however, I lost all of my strength and fell down directly on top of Lisa. Both of us had experienced the ultimate togetherness between two people. Though exhausted, we reveled in that wonderful feeling.
After our encounter, Lisa and I lay together in the sweet aftermath, enjoying the closeness of satiated bodies. I held her in my arms, simply relishing her. I love this lady with all of my heart and soul.
11 months from now, when Lisa and I get married, I will truly be the happiest man alive. Of course I could make that claim now, too - just having Lisa in my life, whether she is my bride or not, is cause enough for great happiness.
[The End] |
3,569 | The Couple | "You'll think I'm weird."
I looked at her, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, as she fiddled with her charm bracelet, eyes cast down in shame.
"Come on, tell me. You can tell me anything. I love you, Anna, you know I do."
"You promise you won't go off me."
I folded her into my arms and dabbed kisses on the top of her golden mane. "Don't be silly, it would take all the power of a nuclear cataclysm to tear me away from you."
She took a deep breath and looked up at me, her long, lustrous hair framing an elfin face. Huge, blue eyes widening in alarm at the deep, dark secret that she was trying to wrest from her bosom to share with me. She was my wife, I the husband of two years standing.
"Are you sure?"
It was as if her very life depended on me acceding to carry the burden of her forthcoming revelation. I nodded.
Another deep breath. "I, er, I...." She tailed off.
"Tell me, I'm not just your lover, I am your friend. I made an oath to share my life with you. So nothing should stand between us."
"I want to be dominated." It came out in a rush, as if by blurting it, she was able to soften the impact or to deflect the blow from my incredulity.
"Dominated? How?"
"You know...I want to be at the mercy of a powerful man. To be totally at his whim. To do what he wants. To provide him with pleasure and to take my personal pleasures in small sips from the pool of his desire."
I stood back and held her shoulders; she hung her head in mortification. The secret was out, the Rubicon had been crossed, now she must await my verdict. I could no longer see her breathing, she was holding her breath, as she stood in my thrall.
"How far do you want to go?" I asked, gently.
"As far as you desire...Master." A tingle ran up and down my spine, and my genitals gripped tightly. Master! One little word, one huge new world.
"Would you agree to be my slave? To serve me in all ways of the flesh?"
"If my master desires."
"Would you keep your body as the temple of my lust, to forego all personal pleasures in pursuit of my happiness?"
"I am at the pleasure of my master."
"Would you allow yourself to be constrained in coarse hempen ropes?"
"I am already constrained by my master's benevolence."
"Would you be prepared to be aroused to the point of distraction and only able to fulfill your desires when it pleases your master?"
"My master commands my body. My pleasure is only within his gift."
"Would you offer yourself to others at the whim of your master?"
"If my master commands."
I pulled down my fly and prized my solidly erect penis out from its constraining lair. I swear I had never had so powerful an erection, nor such an overarching need for consummation.
"Suck me, slave."
Anna dropped to her knees before me and, doing something she had never done before in two years of blissful marriage, she took me in her mouth.I draw patterns on her button, silently declaring my attentions in loving Braille as her body tenses and her breathing echoes the sighs of ecstasy. Now my fingers again take up their fateful march, I touch the plastic rod, I feel it buzzing insistently upon my skin. She draws her womanhood around it in a gentle, but urgent, persistence as I start to draw it from her. It is as if I am drawing the very life from inside her, as her body yields up the instrument that is so gently tormenting her. I draw it out and coax it back in. Always watching, feeling, trying to get at one with the tumultuous feelings that are enveloping her body like a warm, dark, rising maelstrom. Tossing her in helpless subjugation as my ministrations yield bountiful pleasures, her muted murmurs caressing the air like the whisper of the wind through the forest.
Now I must, as I know I must, drink at the fountain of her well. I must taste her and revel in her warm saltiness. I must open her, explore her, conquer her, subjugate her. My tongue must be my weapon, my lips my shield and buckler. I must storm the gates of her citadel. With my ministrations I must entice her surrender, her portals must open and her wetness must overwhelm my senses as her desire becomes manifest upon my tongue. Now I, too, am a slave, we are at one. She the slave of my desire, me the slave of hers. I must garner the sweetness of her juices, her taste, her very essence, drenching my tongue as it dances at the humid warmth of her. Now her moans have become little cries, like the far off call of a hunting bird, they carry to me on the wings of her passion.
I the master, she the slave.
It is time to reassert my mastery of her, as my mouth traces the delicate journey up the delicate contours of her body. My tongue traces a silvery trail across the delicate parchment of her belly, retracing the journey of exploration that my fingers had forged a while before. In helplessness she awaits me. The true slave, at her master's bidding, tightly constrained with limbs drawn to the points of the compass. Each time I make this journey there are new paths to find, new pleasures to reach out for.
Finally, my mouth captures the heights of her thrusting breasts, my tongue fencing gently with the chewy nub of her engorged nipple. Dancing in the blunt grip of my maw then skipping coquettishly away like a playful maiden before a lustful swain. My mouth now draws down on its twin, enveloping it in the gulping cavern. Teasing, nipping, caressing, the tongue and the nipple dueled playfully before the nipple surrendered to the urge of my lips.
My manhood was at rapt attention and was sensing the end of my quest. It nodded, seemingly in agreement, with the lustful voices in my head that demanded that I sink within her comforting embrace.
I sank home. My whole length being swallowed up. Now it was her turn to play and tease as her inner muscles danced and squeezed at my rampant manhood.
I the Master. She the Slave. We were at one in our universe. |
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 |
4,004 | Dice Erotica | "Hi, Georgia!" I say to you as my female friend and I enter your apartment. "This is my friend, Pamela."
You glance quickly over her as she smiles at you. She's attractive, fairly well-built and as tall as you, with long brown hair and hazel eyes.
We remove our coats, sit down with you and enjoy the drinks you serve, then make small talk for a while until we feel comfortable with each other. Then I finally mention we might as well start the game.
"Exactly how do we play?" you ask, not at all familiar with "Dice Erotica."
"It's a very simplified, but erotic form of strip poker," I reply. "But, instead of using cards, we use dice. We each roll a dice; if we roll a 2, 3, 4 or 5, we do nothing. If we roll a 1, we must remove an article of clothing; if we roll a 6, we must take one of these 'Performance' cards"--I show a small pack of cards to you--"and do what it says. We have one minute to do the required act."
That said, I produce a dice, put the Performance cards face down on the coffee table.
Pamela, you and I sit facing each other on cushions on the floor.
"You go first," you say to me as you settle yourself to my left. Pamela sits to my right, but your left.
I roll the dice.
Me: 3
You: 1
You undo your blouse and take it off. I'm surprised that you aren't wearing a bra, but it doesn't matter; sooner or later it would come off, anyway.
Pamela: 5
Me: 6
I draw a Performance Card. It reads, "Perform oral sex on the person to your left."
I look at you. You lift up your skirt and I see you aren't wearing any panties. A grin crosses your face as you lean back, pull up your skirt and open your legs. I head in, my tongue licking at your cunt, stabbing into your hole and thrusting around your clitoris.
Pamela calls time after one minute. You're almost breathless.
You pick up the dice: 4
Pamela: 2
Me: 5
You: 3
Pamela: 1
Pamela removes her skirt. She's not wearing any panties either.
Me: 4
You: 2
Pamela: 3
Me: 5
You: 6
You take a Performance Card and read it. Then you crawl over to me and pull down the zipper of my pants. You reach inside, grab my cock and pull it out. Slowly, you begin to move the skin back and forth, then as my cock begins to harden, you squeeze it and rub it faster. I moan with the good feelings I'm starting to get, but before you can bring me to a climax, Pamela calls time.
You release me, playful pouts on both our faces as we look at Pamela.
Pamela rolls the dice: 2
Me: 1
I take off my pants. Oddly enough, I'm not wearing underpants, either!
You: 4
Pamela: 6
She takes a card and reads it. Then she opens her legs and begins to rub her clitoris, which is already wet and shiny. She slides her finger back and forth over her labia slowly and we watch it disappear occasionally into her dark cunt.
Then, any further desire to play the game disappears as you draw your skirt up to reveal your own wet pussy. You begin to masturbate yourself and, not being one to be left out, I wrap my fingers around my cock and begin to pump it slowly, watching both of you finger yourselves.
Then you suddenly stop, twist onto your hands and knees and bury your face between Pamela's thighs. She gasps aloud as your tongue finds her clit and swirls slowly around it. She grabs your head, pulls you closer into her mound.
The sight of you eating Pamela excites me more and my cock swells and hardens in my grasp.
I tell you to lie on your back. As you do so, I motion for Pamela to get on her hands and knees. I pull her buttocks gently over your head so that you can raise your mouth to her cunt and continue your tonguing of her clit.
Then I position myself over your breasts and behind Pamela. I guide my pulsing probe into her cunt and thrust deep inside her again and again. I feel your hot breath on my cock as it slides in and out, then the wetness of your tongue as it flicks from Pamela's clit to my balls and back again.
I lubricate my finger with her juices, then insert it into her bum. I begin alternating the in-and-out movement of my cock and my finger. Pamela groans loudly as the triple stimulation of my cock and finger and your tongue causes her to explode. She cries out in ecstasy.
Then I feel myself cumming, too. I pull myself from her cunt just as my cock begins to squirt its load, the hot white cream jetting onto her bum and cunt lips, your mouth and chin and neck.
When I finish my spasms, Pamela rolls sideways. I stand astride you, the last drops of my cum dribbling down to your breasts.
I look down at you. "Now," I say with a smile, "Now, it's your turn...." |
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..." |
5,796 | The Gentlemen's Society | "What's the long face, Hampton-Davies? Were the links untoward?"
Hampton-Davies exhaled in disgust and pulled his hair back. He sat abruptly down in a lounger in the circle with the others. "Aye! Cruel fortune!" He leaned to the table, and a long arm plucked a cigar from the cup. "What is one to do?" the young man exclaimed in barely suppressed frustration. He snipped the cigar tip decisively.
"Here, here, chum," consoled the older Spillsworth. He shook an open tin before the youth; its contents rattled within. "Go on, lad, have you some vagina."
The sullen Hampton-Davies looked at his mentor a moment, then finally reached in and dropped a couple of pieces into his mouth. The corner of his mouth turned up as he crunched at the bits.
Spillsworth heartily slapped the younger's knee. "That's the stuff!" he bellowed triumphantly, and leaned back into his chair with satisfaction.
A chorus of "Well dones!" and "Good shows!" traveled around the circle of seated gents, as did the tin of vagina. The men giggled in escalating giddiness and gusto, as the pieces crackled in their mouths and their eyes swept over each other in good-natured camaraderie.
The ruckus was such that they did not see the Texan until he was upon them. Over his shoulder kicked a young woman in a short yellow dress. He slapped his big hand across her bottom. She shrieked laughter.
"Hey y'all!" he piped over the din, "anybody want some pussy?"
The girl beat her fists playfully on his broad back. "It's Bunny," she squealed, "Not Pussy, you big galoot!"
The congregation of men fell silent. Silent. Her laughter withered into nothing.
"Whuh?" the Texan shrugged. They could only stare at the spectacle.
Roguesford shook, beet-red. A vein grew from his temple, and he shook his fist from his perch. "You... will... take... that, that, behavior... far away from HERE!"
The men chimed in: "Here, here!" "By the gods!" "Really!"
"Gees." The hoss was crestfallen. He dropped the girl to her feet, and they walked away forlorn.
"Good show," congratulated Leicester-Shanks, holding forth the tin. Roguesford snapped up a piece, well-pleased, grinding it with vigor.
Spillsworth noted to Hampton-Davies, "I shall propose a sanction barring such indecency at the next meeting. We shall draft said proposal tomorrow, you and I."
"Aye!" approved the others, crunching industriously. |
5,810 | Skirt | "I'm so tired of winter," Laura said to herself, rubbing a red fleece jacket between thumb and finger. A wry smile tickled her face as she let a warm spring thought pass by. Laura turned slightly and pushed her way between two overstuffed racks of blouses to reach a thick ring of hanging slacks. Pushing hard on the loops of stiff wire, Laura opened a short space and began flipping the thin strips of black, grey, blue, and tan past her hand, continuing her constant hunt for something.
She lifted a pair of pants, royal blue cotton size eight, and then held it beside her hips. Laura hooked the hanger over her finger and resumed flipping dexterously through the garments. Another pair made the transition to her finger, and then another. Laura sighed, wondering if she shouldn't have gone to look at furniture instead. "I don't really need pants," she thought.
A flip of brown tweed revealed a black skirt, out of place. Laura pulled back the fabric to check the size and then lifted the skirt. "Isn't that cute," she thought and then frowned. "Where could I wear it?" She held it to her waist. "Short," she smiled, "with my blue silk blouse and some dark stockings." Laura's face grew serious, and she looked around. "About five years ago, maybe." She imagined feeling the heat of Tom's glare as he ridiculed her for trying to act younger than she was and started to put the skirt back. "Honestly, Laura," she said to herself, "he's never done that." She hooked the skirt's hanger onto her finger and looked around the clothed walls to find the fitting room.
Weaving her way between overstuffed racks, Laura finally reached the back corner of the department and looked around for some guidance. Walking past a large mound of unfolded clothes and a box overflowing with clear plastic hangers, she pulled the knob of a white slatted door. Laura stepped into the empty square space and tossed her purse and shopping bag on an upholstered box bench. Hanging up her goods, she closed the door.
A large mirror filled the wall. Laura smiled at her reflection as she took off her coat and hung it beside the pants and black skirt. "I still look good," she thought, turning her hips slightly to study the feminine curves of her body. Watching herself, Laura unbuckled the small brass buckle and unclasped her pants. The beige fabric slid down her thighs and fell into folds at her feet. Lifting up the slacks with her toe, Laura folded and then laid them over her purse. She took another glance at herself in the mirror as she loosened the hug of her cream lace panties. Laura smiled, shyly.
"Come here," she heard a younger woman say in a deliberate but hushed voice. Laura looked back at the still closed door. "C'mon," the girl said, slightly exasperated. Laura looked up to realize the walls ended at about eight feet, leaving four more between the cubicle top and the ceiling. Laura reached for the royal blue pants and began to step into them. Another door clicked shut.
"Sit down," the girl said. Laura closed the waist of the pants and turned to see her bottom in the mirror. "C'mon," said the voice from behind the glass. Laura stroked the fabric down the back of her thigh. The pants hung shapelessly.
"Am I going to get in trouble?" a deeper voice asked. Laura opened her mouth, astonished.
"She's got a guy in there," Laura thought, smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
"Yes, you are," teased the girl. "Now sit down. I've got to pick out something for Jack's party. This is easier, and they don't care."
Laura slipped off the royal blues and tossed them toward the corner. Pulling a grey pair from the hanger, she leaned over to step into them.
"This is sexy," the man said. Laura grinned as she pulled on the pants.
"You like?" the girl asked. "Let me put on a dress now."
Laura turned to look at the pants in the mirror, grinning. "These look pretty good," she thought. She turned and stood on her toes, pressing the fabric over her bottom. "Nice," she thought.
"What do you think?" the girl asked.
"That's great," the deeper voice replied.
Laura turned again, trying to decide. "The sweater clashes," she thought and pulled the brown wool over her head. She shook slightly with a sudden chill, jiggling the creamy flesh of her full breasts in their lace encasement.
"I like that a lot," he said. The girl squealed softly.
"Sit down and let me try another one," she ordered. Laura nodded to herself and took off the grey pants. "If you don't sit down, I'm going to scream for help."
"I'll tell them you dragged me in here."
"Who do you think they'll believe?" she asked gaily. "The big brute or the naked girl?"
"Depends on the jury," he said, his voice low, almost threatening.
Laura took down the skirt and stepped into it. The fabric squeezed her hips tightly as she shimmied the black cylinder up toward her waist. She wiggled as she worked into the snug hold. "I can't," Laura thought, grinning lewdly. "They're indecent."
"Wow," the man said. "You look great."
"You like?" she asked.
"Wow," he repeated.
Laura turned to look at herself from behind. "Naughty," she thought. She bent a little at the waist and caught a glimpse of her panties. "Tom would just die."
"Scott," the girl said, the words emphatic and muffled. "What are you...?"
Raising a curious eyebrow, Laura paused. She stood still and stared breathlessly at her own smiling reflection, waiting as the sound of restless motion behind the mirror grew serious. Listening attentively, Laura watched as her nipples tightened beneath the cream lace of her bra.
"Wait," the girl said. "Let me get..." Her words were interrupted by another jostling and the clang of a hanger.
"There," he said. "Now just..." The girl moaned sharply. Laura watched herself as she unconsciously lifted the hem of the black skirt and gently touched the crotch of her panties.
"Damn, Scott," the girl said between breaths, "your dick is so fucking big." Laura whimpered and pushed her fingers underneath the cream lace.
"You like that, don't you?" he growled. "You like my big dick?"
"Yes," the girl said, emphatically. "Give it to me."
Laura rubbed herself furiously, watching herself in the mirror, listening as flesh began to slap flesh in a steady rhythm. Laura opened her mouth as the electric shocks of excitement rippled through her, and she felt her knees go weak.
"Damn," the girl said, "fuck."
Laura pulled the black skirt up to her waist and pushed her panties down her thighs. Turning, she leaned back against the mirror, pushing her bare ass against the glass. The wall shuddered slightly with each fleshy smack from beyond. Feeling their fuck bouncing steadily against her, excitement poured from Laura's pussy, drenching her diddling fingers.
"Oh God," the girl moaned, "give me that cock."
"Give me that cock," Laura whispered.
"Aargh," bellowed the man, and the rhythm of his blows intensified and then broke. Laura breathed deeply, on fire with her excitement. The other room quieted with gentle murmurs and kisses and lightly squealed 'oohs'. Laura closed her eyes and finally pushed herself forward. Hiking up her panties, she smiled to see the half-moon imprint of her bottom on the glass. A shudder coursed her body, leaving Laura smiling wickedly.
She watched her reflection as she danced a few provocative turns in the tight, short skirt. "Too naughty," Laura said softly and, peeling off the skirt, she quickly dressed and left, leaving the navy blues and fashionable greys in a heap in the corner of the room.
The clerk at the register, a young dark-haired woman, stood behind the counter folding sweaters. Laura plopped the black skirt down with a delighted smile.
"I am so tired of winter," the clerk said, pushing aside the pile of thick knitted wool.
"I think spring will be here soon," said Laura, dreamily.
"Did you find everything you need?" asked the clerk.
"Absolutely not," said Laura, almost laughing, "but I have a good start."
"We have some new blazers on sale." The clerk folded the black skirt and found the price tag.
"Nope," said Laura. "I've got more casual shopping in mind."
"Can I put this on your Hechts card?"
"Sure," said Laura, suddenly distracted as a couple walked past the register. Her eyes fixed on the bulging crotch of the young man's jeans. "I'll take one of those," Laura said, almost to herself. The clerk smirked.
"I think we're out, but I can order one for you," the clerk said, her voice low. They laughed."What I really need is some new lingerie," said Laura.
"Ours is upstairs, to the right. If you want something, you know, spicy, go up to Rudolph's on the top floor over by Lechters. They have great stuff." The clerk winked.
"Yes," said Laura. "I think spring is on the way." She signed the draft and took her package. "Upstairs?"
"By Lechters and The Movie House."
"Thanks," said Laura. Walking saucily down the wide aisle, she stopped to feel the fabric of a low-cut black blouse. "Maybe I should try this on," Laura said, laughing to herself.
Malinov
<http://www.gslink.com/~dcain/xanadu/erotica/>
Power belongs to those who dare. . . Sapere Aude |
5,832 | Lament of a Failing Zero | "The best revenge is writing well."
- Faust
Erotically writing a tale to share,
Amusing, arousing, with genitals bare.
Teasing fast flashes of creamy white thighs,
Civil men growling as they feel their cocks rise.
I typed verbiage with flourish, one-handed albeit.
Six hours I labored to see the thing writ.
I came seven times as I narrated the facts,
Roundaboutly converging to a sloppy climax.
I dashed my fresh prose off toward erotic venues
To feed my friends fodder for their night-alone blues.
Jots of lettered excitements became my well-earned prizes:
"I'm still wetly throbbing having read those sweet lies."
But as I reveled in my tale's untarnished glory,
While the effusive few offered thanks for my story,
Writing's treacherous adepts of the critical art
Sharpened fierce talons to claw out my heart.
For the sake of the readers, we submit to this trial,
Bear nitpicking outbursts of sedation and bile.
Feel the harsh sting of a rogue's knavish wit,
Endure coarse banalities typed by some ruffian's mitt.
The Reviews deemed celestial took the first shot,
Degrading my prose as a mountain of rot.
Deriding some old text to prove she knows more
About juvenile tastes than the expositive core.
The voice of the Annex fell low as she leveled her bead,
Called my imagery flat, cast of words we can't read.
"Much too long where the orgy should clearly be brief,"
Another ship rent asunder on the shoals of her reef.
The polyandrous one joined the fray with light fire,
Condemned arcane words to a grand funeral pyre.
Damned grammar quite dead with fragments misspelled,
Derision ironic crushing wordplay un-yelled.
Now Rosemary jumped at the chance to insist
No credit be granted for the chances I'd missed
To beguile mystery, feed her bloody good fun.
"Stand yourself ready!" while she aims her keen gun.
Though deflated by critics, I sit back again
To spend my frustrations with my virtual pen.
I'll revenge my harsh critics, let them slowly burn
On the spit of their too-brutal tongues; Then they'll learn,
Gnashing their fangs, of the morsel I'm crafting -
A bawdy old lovely with foreplay and afting.
A tale, quite scrumptious, glowing bright on my screen,
A piece d'resistance carved in each sordid scene.
~A smiling blonde motions me, quick, get inside
~Between the full racks of petite clothes I glide.
~In a bare dressing room, check the mirror to reflect
~While her unzipped skirt slips down-thigh direct.
~White pantyhose shroud her best shadowy sights
~As her sapphire sweater lifts to expose rich delights.
~Succulent breasts, lush ripe melons, thick dark nipples
~Barely encased in a black satin bra, divulging in ripples.
~She sits while she looks in the mirror, her eyes gleam.
~Thumbs in her waist, she pulls the nylon downstream.
~Beneath the gold bush spreads soft lips of wet pink.
~I lick my lips hungered, while she teases her mink.
~"Is this too short?" asks some girl's voice from above.
~"I love to go shopping," my friend purrs, "and I love
~The way you've been watching me, out there and in here.
~Now I want you inside me; my mouth, cunt and rear."
And though my critics search to black-hearted content,
Write demanding that these folios be forthwith sent,
I'll steadfastly deny scoundrels all the joys of this draft,
Leave the masochists to spread wide for the critical shaft.
Rest assured that my ditty, quite enduring in paces,
Will soon become famous in all the right places.
And in the dying last echoes of this praise unrestrained,
We'll hear wails in the desert, critics unentertained.
Lament of a Failing Zero
by Lord Malinov
<[email protected]> |
5,843 | FUCK DECENCY 397 Passions Playpen NND g2 | "Hey, yowch!" David said. He had not noticed what Sherry was up to. Sherry ignored him and softly rubbed his penis with the steaming hot towel. David jerked for a moment but then settled down as the towel's moisture compensated for its heat.
"There, you're nice and clean, sir," Sherry said seductively to David.
"No, you may NOT put your penis in her mouth, David," Marie scolded. Sherry, quite innocently, or so she hoped it appeared, had widened her mouth and let her tongue protrude as she finished her sentence. She let her face remain tantalizingly close to David's newly polished equipment.
David, sticking himself up more, arching his hips at Sherry, aimed to fill her wide-open, offered mouth with his manhood. Marie's words stilled him. For a moment Sherry remained wide-mouthed, gazing at him, while David's penis stuck lance-like at her face.
Sherry put both her hands softly upon David's cock. She seemed to hold him back from her, like a frightened child. But then, still showing him the inside of her mouth, still gape-faced, she began to stroke him in hopes of making him spurt.
"Sherry, you are NOT to make David shoot in your mouth," Marie scolded. "Fie, I have the wrong person over my knee!" she swore, throwing up Nancy, who gratefully reclaimed possession of her own bottom by clapping her hands to it. Standing once more, Nancy did a little jig as she attempted to assuage the sting of her spanking. Her bare feet leapt in little hops on the floor. She was a female leprechaun, dancing amidst clover. But a tossing up of her head showed that her fanny, at least, had not been lucky this day. She rubbed it quite earnestly.
"Sherry!" Marie called. Striding to the girl, she bent and yanked her up by her hair. Sherry did not let go of David's cock, and he yelped as he was drawn penis first up by her clutching hands. In a moment, both she and he were standing. Still, she rubbed him, and she tried to kneel in front of him so that she could keep her mouth where the action was.Kate crossed the room and stood hopefully with her yogurt cup, waiting to make use of David's penis as a spoon. She batted at Sherry's fingers and tried to pry them loose from David's cock. Marie, meanwhile, gave Sherry's soft warm bottom a slap. The girl, surprised, lost her hold on David.
"Yum, time to eat!" Kate said. Quickly, she knelt before David's hard-on. She took hold of it in her small hand and plunged its length into her yogurt cup. Drawing him up from the cool moist interior, she presented his manhood to her waiting lips. It was coated with vanilla yogurt. David, not caring now at the loss of Sherry, strove to control himself as Kate licked him clean and then stuck him back into the cloying yogurt. For a moment, Kate thought he might shoot his jism into her cup. He seemed excited at seeing himself used this way, put into a creamy substance and used to stir it and spoon it.
Sherry, meanwhile, broke into tears over the loss of her toy. She'd liked having a man in her hands. Now, with Marie angry at her, she was dumped unceremoniously over the woman's knees. Marie began spanking her. Sherry was still close enough to childhood to feel humiliated at such treatment. She blushed and kicked her feet, and Rod had to hop down and hold her, lest she spring up and run away. Nancy, meanwhile, who'd been relatively compliant in her punishment, never actually preventing it, stood watching with her hands on her bottom.
Kate licked and sucked David. She used his big sausage to clean out the inside of her cup when she'd eaten all the vanilla and all the drippy blueberries at the bottom. Mike was put to a similar use. Lynette made him serve a cupful of cherry yogurt to her, with his penis. Cindy, still lying on the table, was offered a cup of banana yogurt. Jim helped her eat it, standing before her table refuge, offering his penis as a spoon. She ate her yogurt greedily, exclaiming how hungry her pregnancy made her. When she had emptied her cup, she said she was still hungry. Jim, not waiting for orders or permission from Marie, offered her sexy little mouth the contents of his testicles. She accepted. She sucked him like a straw until he shot himself into her hungry tummy.
Amidst this carnival of carnality, there was a knock at the door. It had a distinct pattern to it; three knocks, slow and regular, followed by two more in quick succession. Beth went to the door and opened it. Out of the side of her eyes, Kate noticed a man enter. He was tall, dressed in a tailored suit that looked both fashionable and quite expensive. Beside him entered a woman in a long dress. It held itself against her figure as if it had been glued on. The fibers were handwoven, Kate guessed, for they had a natural quality to them. The woman had an imposing manner and kept her hair up in a bun. Her face was like ice; white but expertly carved. Kate laughed as she felt David's hot penis thrusting into her mouth. Would the woman's face melt if she had such a fine young man between her teeth?
Eagerly, almost to show off, Kate yanked on David's cock and urged him to the floor. She had no idea who these newcomers were, but she felt seized with a desire to impress them, particularly the man. To show him what a REAL woman like herself could do, instead of the ice-statue he was currently with.
David plopped onto his behind and watched with hungry eyes as Kate knelt over him. Wantonly, opening herself to admit him, using her two hands as pliers to open her sex up with, Kate got herself up on David's hard-on. Fitting his head into her labia, she waggled her bottom at the man in the tailored suit who stood behind her. David thrust up. Kate screamed happily as his powerful tool split her tummy like a drill shaft.
"This one seems particularly lively," Kate heard the woman comment. She felt the sharp toe of the woman's booted foot jab her hiney. It was not polite. It found her anus on the first kick, and Kate howled at the contact.
"She has the perfect bottom for it," the man said casually. Kate felt she were livestock and he was the meat inspector. He tapped her right bottom cheek with a walking stick that he carried. |
5,871 | 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 took 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."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.
Any comments, especially from any Lady Catherines out there, is wanted and appreciated. Please send comments to FESSELN1.aol.com. Other parts to this story will be added as time permits. |
5,884 | Keri's request ch 2 | "Boy Meets Whore"
"You don't even cum?!? you ask. There had better be a reason..."
What a trip! It's about three to four hours of winding state highway up through the Cascade Mountains to reach the ski lodge. There are friends in cars in front and behind, music on the radio, and frequent stops to piss. But there's still hours of time to just talk with a girl you KNOW loves sex.
"Five bucks says she blows me on the ride up."
"You're on."
So I lost five bucks, but as Keri said later, "I should have just asked". What a girl! We talked about her reputation. So what if a girl just likes to fuck - don't the guys?!? Numbers of sex partners, different places, etc. She later said that all of our talking during the ride had made her so fucking horny. I had an inkling. Maybe it was the way she kept pressing her legs together and squirming in her seat, even though we had just had a potty break. So by the time we hit the lodge, we were both pretty worked up.
A few beers, a loaded, "you wanna take a walk outside?" and the next thing you know, her tongue is down my throat and my hands are up her shirt. The walk turned into a drive up into one of the deserted logging roads.
"Oh God! Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
I think I had found what she liked. After peeling off her sweater, pants and underwear in the steamy cab of my pickup, I stayed clothed and started to work on her body. I was in the passenger seat, half-lying back, and she was curled on my lap with her tits square in my face.
After a half-hour of slowly mauling her tits; first lightly sucking and kissing all over, then a more rough squeezing and pinching of one breast while I forced the nipple of the other breast against my upper teeth with my tongue, slowly grating it back and forth. By this time she is really bucking her hips.
My hand trails its way down her trim little runner's tummy, and my mouth along with it. While I tease her belly button with my tongue, one hand begins to knead her ass cheeks and thighs as the other continues to pinch and pull her nipple.
Finally, I start to work on her flooding pussy. My mouth returns to her tits, this time light and caressing, only little nips around the nipple, along the sides, underneath. She spreads her legs even farther when my fingers lightly trail around her thighs, softly sliding my fingernails across the inside, ever nearer. My left arm is under her, cradling her lower back and my hand is squeezing her tight little backside. My right hand is circling and circling her pussy lips. Now and again I let my fingers graze up that little channel made between her fat outer lips and the inside of her thigh. Never directly down the center of her cunt - never touching her clit. She shivers.
I make it worse. I leave the rest of her tit alone, concentrating on the nipple, again working it between my upper, front teeth and my tongue. I slowly apply pressure as my right hand's index and middle finger start to work up and down the far outside of her pussy. Every once in a while I roughly grab a pinch of her lips between my thumb and finger and pull it up and away from her while increasing the pressure on her nipple and causing pain. This is always replaced by slow, casual sucking and light strokes to the inside of her thighs.
"Please, please put your fingers in me. Please."
You want me in your life? Beg me, accept pain from me willingly, and do everything I command. Am I so hard to please? These three little acts are so basic to my nature. And here she was on step one so early...
A few more requests and I just had to oblige the lady. Slowly working two fingers up and down the lips of her pussy, I slowly flowered it open. Spreading it, I used two fingers to hold her open while my middle finger teased in and out, never passing the first knuckle. A little more begging, and well, you get the picture.
She finally came, and when I say cum, I mean CUM. She shook, cried out in gasps, and jerked her whole body as I worked her. My left arm was under her ass as my left hand worked her cunt. My index finger and pinky spread her wide open and my middle two fingers were in as deep as they could go. My right hand was busy between flicking her clit and then roughly pinching it. I was sucking her tits and biting them so hard she must have been sore for days (which she says she was).
Afterwards she couldn't stand more contact with her cunt. I would lightly blow across it once in a while and she would squeeze her eyes shut and push me away by my shoulders.
So what's in this for me? Nothing. Not even my pants came down.
But the hook went in... |
6,111 | FUCK DECENCY 390 Passions Playpen | "No offense, lad, but you've got quite a shocker here," Rod said to David. "You're liable to scare the girls away with this!"
Everyone laughed. The boy had been calm and collected in the living room, but now he had risen right up to the bursting point upon finding himself stripped bare in a bondage room. His excitement was palpable and, with it, his intense need to spend.
Rod himself was no slacker in the erection department. Now that he was locked into a bondage chamber with nude females and males, he offered himself proudly. Kate suspected he'd be savvy enough to keep his own manhood clear of pain, while inflicting it on the younger erections of the males around him.Mike was Jim's age, though much more controlled in his movements than Jim was. He had an easy-going, swaggering confidence. Kate guessed he'd played at bondage before, or was cool enough to fake it. Of course they'd all had a little experience. That was a prerequisite to receiving an invitation to this party. But what that experience might have been could vary dramatically. For Kate, it had been just her one previous visit to Marie's. And Kate guessed Jim and David were little more experienced than she.
Cindy was gaining weight from her pregnancy, and she'd acquired a nice plump butterball bottom. Her breasts, too, had grown, and they bounced on her chest as she laughed, watching Rod fondle David's young hard-on. Nancy sidled up to Cindy. Both girls were the same age. Nancy, slim and practical-looking, with a glint of firmness in her eyes, placed her hand on Cindy's ass. She palmed it openly. Kate expected Cindy to resist, but the girl instead merely flinched. She stared straight ahead, watching Rod massage David, while Nancy caressed her ass.
"You're pregnant?" Nancy asked Cindy. Nancy was slim as a gazelle with breasts almost too big for modeling, but not quite, though she had opted for the no-nonsense life of office work instead of posing on a runway or going to college.
"Yes," Cindy breathed in response.
"This may be your last chance to really have fun and do whatever you want," Nancy replied. And as if to test the girl's resolve to submit herself one last time in a room such as this, Nancy poked a finger into the redhead's ass.
"Don't," Cindy breathed. Her hips jerked, but she did not manage to pull herself off Nancy's finger. Instead, accepting it after a moment's surprise, Cindy stood calmly and quietly as she could. She gazed at the other guests, pretending nothing was happening, though all could see it, as Nancy probed more deeply and lewdly within her.
Marie moved through her guests like a lioness inspecting her brood. She was as naked and vulnerable as everyone else, with her nipples showing their stems and her bush as bare as her face. But there was little doubt, looking at her expression, that she would rule them all and bring out or repress the emotions in each of them. Her face, with a sardonic smile, her eyes hard and bright, contained just the right mixture of compassion and cruelty. She paused by Lynette and placed a hand on the brunette's tummy, then impressed her finger into Lynette's navel. Marie's nail was sharp, and Lynette was forced to gasp and draw in her tummy as the sharp nail poked in her belly.
"Are you ready for a night of fun?" Marie asked her nude guest.
"Yes," Lynette answered. Her eyes were wide, and she watched as Marie's hand slipped down her belly to tug at the hairs of her bush and then, going between Lynette's legs, intruded into her cunt.
"You're wet," Marie said to Lynette.
"Of course I'm wet," Lynette answered. Her hips twisted forward as Marie delved more deeply.
"Would you like some shrimp?" the waitress, whose name was Beth, asked Marie and Lynette. She had fetched a tray of shrimp from a small refrigerator in the corner of the room. It was her job to keep everyone happy, no matter what they might be doing. Still wearing her white gloves and her spiked heels, she held its contents up to the women.
"Why yes, we would," Marie said. She removed her fingers from Lynette's cunt and used them to take a large shrimp from the tray. She passed the shrimp between Lynette's legs. Behind, her other hand gripped at the juncture of Lynette's bottom and legs and forced Lynette to accept a wider stance. With Lynette's cunt wet and open to her, Marie moistened the shrimp in Lynette's slit and then lifted it up to the woman's lips. "Eat it," Marie commanded the model.
Lynette, looking cross-eyed at the shrimp because it was held so close, extended her tongue and tasted it. Her face looked like that of a child forced to accept something it didn't like.
"Bite," Marie ordered. Lynette took a little nibble on the fat shrimp.
"Oh!" Lynette cried. Down below, where her legs joined, Marie stabbed her sex with a pointed, probing finger. In her open-mouthed surprise at being sexually violated, Marie found the opportunity she'd been waiting for. She popped the vaginally-moistened shrimp into Lynette's wide-apart lips. Immediately, seeing what had happened, Lynette snapped her lips shut. But it was too late. The shrimp was inside, and she dared not spit it out. Glumly, though perhaps not looking too sad, she chewed and swallowed the shrimp as Marie played two fingers within her dell. |
6,119 | The Legend 6 | "Homer had the head of a fool," sniped Mithras as he surveyed the Honeyed Isle from the prow of the galley.
"Sorry, what?" inquired Aias, from inside his reverie.
"I was saying Homer was a fool."
"Homer? Oh, Homer. The storyteller. I thought he told a pretty enough tale. It made a powerful antidote to the mumblings of the Prophets of doom that dwell in the glory of the Parthenon in these days."
"Maybe it is so, but he was still a fool."
"Why?"
"That tale of the Sirens. He got it all wrong."
"Such are the tales of the scribes. Why do you bring that up now?"
"Because, my friend, there is the Isle." His arm swept across the horizon to the ochre-colored island passing across their port bow.
Aias fingered the bronze figurine that he kept hidden in the folds of his cloak and mumbled a furtive prayer before continuing nervously. "Should we not tie ourselves with the mast to our backs?"
"By Zeus, you coward, did I not tell you that the myth was just that - a myth? They will not harm you. They have been tamed."
"But the Legend?" murmured Aias.
"Is but a legend." He slapped his shivering friend on the back. "Come, let us to our libation, and I will sing the real tale."
So with the goblets of wine, mulled from the slopes of Mykenai itself, they settled on the cushions of fine cloth. They watched the mighty exertions of the oarsmen for some minutes before Mithras deigned to entertain his friend with the tale.
"It was the brave Ulysses, on his way back from the mighty battle where Achilleus smote Hector and brought Troy to heel, that first encountered this Isle."
Aias nodded. Even the urchins that dodged between the columns of the temples knew this much. Mithras noted his friend's nod.
"Ah, my friend. You understand. But did you know that Odysseus himself did not rope himself to the mast like a common criminal, or a quivering maiden, but instead, and with great resolution, he did plunder the Isle. Alone and without his shield and mighty studded spear, he bestrode the bewitching beaches, with the beguiling songs smiting his fair ears. While his men lay shivering in the bowels of his ship, with the goats and the slops."
"So why did the singer, Homer, weave such a poem?"
"Men of Chios!" sighed his companion. "Their tiny island closes their minds. Who but Zeus could tell. Maybe it was because they were in envy. But this much I will tell: He was wrong. The victory that Ulysses carved from the heart of that island was as powerful as any great glory told by the seers. Even the battles of the mighty Agamemnon himself... Alone and naked he went into the bosom of the sirens, where many men had perished before him. And naked and alone he walked away, head held high, a plume of gold upon his sparkling locks, glory shining around him, and the laughter of the Gods rolling from the heights of Olympus itself."
"But what of the Sirens? Was he not bewitched by their teasing songs and their mists of deception?"
"Ah, yes. But he knew. The mighty warrior knew. He understood their wants, their needs, their lamentations whispered to him on the wind of their sorrow, which underlay their luring of men. They needed the mightiest weapon of all, and, naked and proud, he conquered them with it."
"This mighty weapon of which you speak, which is it? Was he not naked, was he not unarmed, without his spear, or his sword, or his shield? What of this mighty weapon?"
"It was the mighty weapon of his manhood. A full sixth hexameter tall and as proud and upstanding as the fighter himself. It was with this weapon he laid bare the songs of the sirens and silenced them into as pretty a poem of love as had ever been told by a maiden on the morn following her wedding night."
"Do you mean...?"
"Yes, my friend. The songs, you see, were the songs of a maiden that does not have the pleasure of the hardness of a man's thews cleaving their body, for aeon after aeon. They were the songs of despair and of unfulfilled passion. Twenty maidens alone on a rock with no man to calm them and pleasure their bodies. It was no wonder that their songs were so plaintive and carried such misery. So the mighty Ulysses took them to his pallet and cleaved them until their songs were stilled. For three nights he toiled, and afterwards he strode back with a back as straight as a bronze spear. They say that the maidens lined the beach, naked and pinkly happy, as he sailed away, and forever after there were the sounds of happiness and frivolity on the isle. Listen to the wind, my friend, and agree with me that Homer was a fool." |
2,423 | Tricking Daddy | "Daddy?" The seven-year-old girl seemed bothered.
"What, dear?"
"How come we never fuck anymore?"
"Uh... I'm sorry? WHAT did you just say?" To say that Dan was astonished at his little girl's accusation was a gross understatement.
"I said, how come you never fuck me anymore? I keep waiting for you to come into my bedroom every night, and you never do!"
"But, Hon, I NEVER... When was this, anyway?"
"Back when you and Mom were having all those arguments... don't you remember?"
The thirty-year-old man was quite taken aback. If there was one thing he would have been SURE to remember, it was sticking his swollen penis up in his own daughter's cute little slit, and squirting the child's womb full of jet after gooey jet of her own father's thick white baby-making seed, without a care of getting the little girl pregnant with her own brother or sister. Even a year earlier at six, the precocious youngster had been giving him hard-ons and wet-dreams like that, that made his groin ache for hours; though he had no more intention of even touching her sexually than he had of climbing Mount Everest. (Both taking up some time in his daydreams though.) Dan just couldn't imagine the scene that would have to take place for him to really molest his own daughter though. "Uh, you're sure of this?" he asked; wondering if he had been sleepwalking, drugged, or possibly somebody else had sneaked into the house and deflowered his innocent little girl. Dan felt a surge of rage at the very thought.
"Uh-huh. It felt so GOOD, when you slid your big thing inside me. How come you haven't been to see me anymore? Don't you love me, Daddy?"
"Of COURSE I love you, HoneyBun... It's just that I'm not sure...."
"Oh GOODY!" exclaimed the youngster; clapping her hands and jumping on his lap with glee. "Does that mean you'll be in to see me tonight? I'll tell Mommy like I usually do, so we'll be ALL alone!"
"Uh... Hon?" he asks; now worried. "Are you sure about this?" Things seemed rather strange, to say the least.
"Uh-huh!" the child responded; giggling. "Here, feel me. I'm all wet!"
Somehow Dan Samuels found his hand being almost forced into his child's groin, up under her short little dress, and down under her panties. Sam (Samantha) had been right about one thing; she was soaking wet and quite slippery with arousal; and her father's finger slipped easily inside her... about half an inch.
"Sam!" exploded the older man, finally realizing what he was doing. "You've been lying to me! You're still a virgin; so you KNOW I haven't been doing anything to you."
<Giggle> "Of course, Daddy, I know that. But I got you to stick your finger in me to find out, didn't I?" From a single giggle, the child's body now shook with a whole raft of them, as she almost shook herself off the older man's lap from laughter. Neither party even seemed to notice that the man's hand was still inside her panties; slowly stroking the lips and tickling the protruding nubbin at the top of the little girl's tiny slit.
"Sam...." Dan couldn't bring himself to properly chastise the little girl he loved so much; and she didn't let him.
"Uh Daddy?" she asked. "Does this mean you won't be coming in to fuck me tonight?"
There was a long silence, as both man and girl thought about how their lives together would never be the same.
"Please, Daddy?" she whimpered in disappointment; almost certain she would be refused. From the instructions she had gotten, Sam was sure this was her best (and possibly ONLY) chance to be her father's lover like she wanted to be... at least until she started puberty. Five or six years seemed like forever to a girl of her age. Samantha knew she would never make it until 11 or 12 to have sex... she'd die of frustration first.
"Please, Daddy?"
"Oh God." |
2,442 | Telephone | "Sometimes she makes me so mad!"
It's a bit distracting to be interrupted during sex like that. "Who?" I asked.
"Marie. She gets all stuck up and stuffy; using big words."
I remembered Marie. Far from "stuck up," my niece was as eager to feel my prick stretching her belly as my daughter. "Big words, Hon?"
Sandy wriggled around on my prick, bringing groans from me and squeals of delight from her. "Oh, Marie says 'cause we went cross-country without boots, that we should feel proud."
"Cross-country?" I thought, then guessed: "Oh... You mean, 'Around The World'?"
"No... Interstate... intercounty... something."
"Oh... I'm not sure I understand."
"Since Marie met this new teacher down at school, she's using all these big words. She acts *proud* and says she's Magma... No, pragma-something."
"Pragmatic?"
"Yeah... Think so. Ever since she met Mr. Class, Marie's been bragging about how she's pragmatic. She thinks *I* should be proud too... for not even *knowing* the guy! It don't make sense!"
Well... Marie *was* rather pragmatic... especially the time I accidentally came inside her. She just said, "Don't worry about it."
"Who's this teacher she knows?" I couldn't remember a "Mr. Class" in either of their schools.
"Mr. Class... No, Mister Recess. No... Something about time in school. What do you call the time when each class is held?"
"A period?"
"Yeah! That's IT! She knows Mr. Period."
Oh God. The school bell finally rang. This was like figuring out the original message in a game of "Telephone."
"You mean... Your cousin thinks that since we had intercourse without a rubber, and she knows she missed her period, that she's pregnant, while because you *haven't* seen your period, you are too?"
"That's IT." |
5,633 | Better Loving through Chemistry | "Okay," questioned Jenny. "Why is this one called the 'Dating Game'? I thought it was just another basketball game. You know, we cheer, the team loses, like usual."
"Well," Carol explained, putting an arm around the petite blonde. "It's an old tradition. Whenever we play Ivy Hall, the losing team has to throw a party for the winners. And the pep squad has to supply dates."
"When was the last time we beat Ivy Hall?" asked Jenny suspiciously. Ivy Hall was the "rich kids" school across town, and had the best team scholarship money could buy. This was Jenny's first year at the school, and she had let Carol talk her into joining the cheerleading group.
"Seven years," Carol said with a smile.
"So what are you smiling about? You're gonna end up with some dumb jock pawing at you, and the Ivy Hall cheerleaders laughing in your face."
"Not this year," Carol said assuredly. She held up a hand holding an imaginary bottle, and made a spraying motion with one finger.
* * * * *
Wednesday night. This wasn't a big game. A big game was one that you could win, if you tried hard enough. That was not the case, and everyone knew it. Still, the students turned out, filling the gymnasium about 3/4 full.
"Hey Carol," called one of the visiting cheerleaders. "Guess who you're going to this year's party with?"
"My boyfriend," Carol replied coolly.
"Want to bet?" the other girl taunted.
Carol dismissed the challenge. She would make the other girl eat her taunts.
Jenny bounced up, bright as a sunbeam in her cheerleader outfit. Giving Carol a conspiratorial wink, she asked, "So, what's the plan?"
Carol tried to look confident, but failed. "I don't know. I was hoping to dose some of the girls enough to distract the other team, but it would affect our guys at least as much. And it probably wouldn't help anyway. They're just too good."
Jenny sat down next to her friend, and the two pondered for a bit. Finally, Jenny had an idea. "Carol," she began. "There was a movie once. I wasn't old enough to see it, but I heard about it. A bunch of girls snuck into the visiting team's locker room and fucked the hell out of them. They were so tired that they couldn't play. Could we do that?"
"Nice idea, but too late," Carol replied, pointing towards where the Ivy Hall team was entering the gym. "Here they come."
"Well, there's got to be some way," Jenny said glumly.
The pep squad did their best to urge the team on, but it was like trying to cheer up a man headed for the gallows. The home team was getting murdered.
At the end of the first quarter, the score was 53 to 20. Carol stopped by the team bench, and made a serious plea. "Look you guys, I know you won't beat these clowns, but if you can keep it close, I promise that the pep squad will make it worth your while." With a nasty grin and a flip of her skirt to emphasize her point, she headed out onto the floor for the next set of cheers.
When they were finished with their dance routine, Carol wandered over to the Ivy Hall pep squad. She had a plan.
"Trying to cut a deal, or switching sides?" called the head of the squad.
"Neither. Just offering to up the ante on the bet, if you have the guts," Carol replied.
"What else are you planning to lose?" teased the blonde.
"Loser doesn't just supply dates. They play slave. Anything goes. Bet?" Carol replied with firm confidence.
The blonde, whose name was Misty, quickly agreed.
On her way back to her side of the court, Carol emptied a small bottle into a bucket that sat by the Ivy Hall bench. Nobody noticed.
* * *
"You bet what?" asked Jenny in shock. "I didn't like the orgy I had with our own boys. There's no way I'm gonna play for those snobs."
"Don't worry, you won't have to," Carol laughed. "I figured out how to beat them. I put the potion in the cleaning bucket. See?"
Jenny looked where Carol pointed. A boy was damp-mopping the floor, cleaning it for the Ivy Hall cheerleaders.
"Every time they go out, they have him mop the floor first. They're going to get a dose every time they touch the floor with their skin. By halftime, they'll be so horny they'll lose their minds."
Jenny smiled, understanding dawning in her eyes. "So, after the half-time orgy, our team will stand a chance."
The show got interesting. Every time-out, the Ivy Hall girls took to the floor, and they worked the side lines constantly. Within about 15 minutes, they were doing a lot more splits, and the boys were definitely taking notice.
When they had to sit on the bench, several of the girls were squirming noticeably, rubbing their asses against the bench. Jenny smiled at the image, knowing just how they felt. They were hot, and getting hotter.
The score at halftime was 67 to 35, and would have been worse, except that the Ivy Hall boys had taken to show-boating. They were openly making fun of their opponents, clowning, and generally rubbing it in.
Carol watched as the visiting team headed for the locker room. The coach didn't even bother with a half time talk. Then, after a minute or so, one of the cheerleaders slipped from the girl's area into the boy's locker room. Then another. And another. By the time Carol and her friends were done with their half-time routine, the Ivy Hall girls were nowhere to be seen.
Carol and Jenny snuck to a supply closet they knew about, and peeped through the vents into the boy's locker room.
Misty was on the training table, her skirt flipped up, and her panties nowhere in sight. She was being taken from behind by one of the players, while she took another with her mouth.
Two of the girls had tackled a freshman, and were busily pulling his pants down. He tried to hold onto them, but his willpower was fading fast.
Clothes went flying as the two squads went into full-contact wrestling, no holes barred. The boys were superb athletes, but the girls were insatiable.
They couldn't see the showers, but they did see one girl, naked and covered with soap, come sliding through, hotly pursued by an equally naked boy. Giggles and squeals of delight echoed through the chamber.
Then came an interruption. With halftime almost over, and the cheerleaders nowhere to be seen, the coach and the choreographer came in, following the sounds of pleasure. The scene stopped them in their tracks.
The coach was only stopped for a moment. Two girls, seeing a man who wasn't spent, jumped him, tearing at his clothes. The choreographer backed away, a look of horror on her face.
Suddenly the coach was on his feet, peeling the amorous nymphs away from his legs. The look on his face was dark and stormy. Hell was about to break loose, if he could get their attention. Carol and Jenny snuck out, before they were caught.
Ivy Hall took the court five minutes late, and nearly lost the game by forfeit. They might as well have. The home team, hoping to get what the visitors had too much of, were more than motivated. And the visitors moved like their feet were glued to the floor.
By the third quarter, the score was nearly tied, and the Ivy Girls were nowhere to be seen.
The final score was 101 to 95, and for the first time in years, Ivy Hall went home a loser.
* * * * *
The party was held at one of the Sorority houses at Ivy Hall, since they were hosting it.
"Hi Misty," Carol waved as she spotted the familiar face waiting inside the hall. "Or should I say, 'Mistress'?" Carol said with a grin, looking at the tiny bathing suit the other girl was wearing, as she had been instructed.
Misty gave her a scowl, then pulled her aside. "Are you really going to make us go through with this?" she asked unhappily.
"I'll tell you what."Since you agreed to dress the part, I'll meet you halfway. Nobody will make you do anything you don't want to. You see, I never told the boys about the bet. I did bring something special for you, though," Carol said, handing the buxom blonde a package.
Misty looked relieved as she took the parcel. "Good. None of us were really looking forward to this. Thanks for letting us off."
"Oh, I'm not letting you off easily, but I'm not letting you off," Carol corrected her. "You still have to wear those slave-girl outfits. You just get to decide whether you play the parts."
There were hoots and cheers when the girls of Ivy Hall made their grand entrance. They were dressed in tiny, French-cut bikinis, mostly black, high heels, and slave collars. Carol attached a leash to each girl's collar and introduced them to their dates for the night. "Don't forget, everyone, we're doing Prom Pictures later on," she reminded the girls with a grin.
Misty came out last, but she was worth waiting for. Her costume consisted of the same bikini briefs the other girls wore, but her torso and breasts were covered (barely) in a snug leather corset. It drew her waist in tightly, making her bust line seem all the larger.
Jenny watched Misty and the others heading for the dance floor and smiled at Carol. "I don't know why, but somehow I get the idea that Misty and her friends don't like their party clothes," Jenny commented sarcastically.
"Don't worry about that," Carol confided. "They'll get in the mood soon enough."
"You mean...?" gasped the petite blonde, stifling a giggle.
"Yup," Carol nodded. "I added something to the inside of the collars. They may not want to play slave now, but in about half an hour, this party is definitely going to swing." |
5,650 | Boarding School Adventures Part 2 | "Would you like us to play with you some more?" breathes Suzanne, licking her lips and running her dainty fingers down between my widely parted legs.
Percy is beginning to respond again and the schoolgirl giggles with delight as she fingers a familiar growing hardness.
"Girls, please!" I gasp as Sally's hand also joins in for a spot of cock squeezing.
"Better lock the door Tracy," says Suzanne wickedly. "We don't want to be disturbed while we're having him!"
The dull metallic click of the key turning echoes down the outside corridor like the gates of doom.
"Girls no!" I shriek, trying to pull myself from under their clinging embrace but with little success. "I could get ten years for what you're thinking of doing with me."
"Don't worry about that," says Suzanne grinning at my obvious discomfort. "No one will ever know. Besides that's what you're really here for!"
"What I'm really here for?" I repeat foolishly.
"Yes, your predecessor used to have some of us girls up here for, er, Private Studies," she explains, carefully choosing her words.
"Private Studies?" I gasp incredulously.
"Of course, he used to study our privates and then have us!" titters Tracy, blushing furiously at the temerity of her own joke.
The girls break out into renewed fits of giggling and my mind reels with all the connotations implied in that simple sentence. While my mind is thus occupied, the girls take advantage of my distraction and I suddenly find my arms and legs gripped even tighter by Mandy and Suzanne. Squealing with delight, the girls renew fondling my balls and stroking my rapidly hardening cock.
"Girls, please!" I implore, making a half-hearted attempt to release my arms and legs from their tenacious grip.
"What's wrong Mr May?" giggles Suzanne with mock disappointment. "Don't you like the idea of screwing little girls?"
The very thought of doing such a thing to these pretty girl guides causes Percy to rise like the bow of a schooner. The girls squeal in triumph as they overcome my feeble attempts to protect my modesty. My confused mind still shudders at the knowledge that what these girls intend to do is obviously illegal, not to say totally immoral.
"Girls, stop!" I gasp. "No-oo-oo-OH!"
"If you don't let us use you for our pleasure we'll tell everyone that you're a sex maniac who likes raping little girls," pouts Mandy, stamping her foot on the floor to emphasise her words.
The enormity of their threat makes my head spin with its connotations. It would be their word against mine and I have a shrewd idea who the Sunday papers would believe most. There is nothing else for it. These randy little schoolgirls have me in a fix and they know it.
"Ooooh! He's got a nice stiffy!" giggles Suzanne, licking her lips and running her dainty fingers along the length of my straining erection. Mandy slides herself back down my chest until she is straddling my stomach. She bends down, covering my face with hot, passionate kisses. Her tongue flicks hungrily inside my mouth and I feel my cock sliding between her bottom cheeks as her shapely young body presses against mine.
Pinned to the carpet, I struggle under the combined weight of the four young girls. Mandy's short skirt rides up as she kisses me and I feel the base of my cock pressing against the entrance of her unfledged little slit.
"Mmmmm - Nice," She breathes, rubbing herself urgently against my erection.
As if by a prearranged signal, Mandy reluctantly disengages herself when Tracy and Suzanne step out of their short skirts and slip off their uniform blouses. I watch nervously as the girls divest themselves of bra and panties.
Naked except for their dainty white socks and black shoes, the girls cast aside the last of their skimpy underwear. Their budding young breasts are very small but their jutting nipples stand out like little pencil erasers. Their legs are long and slender and their waists narrow with no trace of pubic hair to be seen between their girlish thighs.
"Suzanne can screw you first, then me," giggles Tracy, lowering her eyes and blushing slightly as I stare up at her naked little body.
"Oh Goody!" exclaims Suzanne eagerly, clambering over my prostrate form. "This beats mixed hockey any day!"
With her legs parted on either side of my thighs, she shamelessly exposes the unfledged lips of her tiny girlish vagina to my growing lust. Her little breasts stand out as proud as pomegranates displaying their cherry-red nipples as she wriggles her bottom into a more comfortable position so the purple head of my penis is poised at the entrance to her vagina.
Mandy opens a drawer and takes out a half-empty jar of vaseline. She passes it to Suzanne who holds it up to let me see the label.
"Some of us girls might be a bit tight for you at first sir!" she smiles wickedly.
I almost cream myself there and then as the giggling schoolgirl transfers some of the jar's contents onto her fingers and slowly rubs the slippery substance over my straining erection. Sensing my readiness, the naked schoolgirl stops her rubbing motions and reverses her position, seating herself on my stomach. Once again I feel my captive member forcefully inserted into a warm, moist place.
"Ooooh! Ahhh! that feels good!" gasps Suzanne.
Tracy decides to straddle herself over my face, sliding the pouting lips of her cunt over my mouth and nose. Suzanne's tight little bum cheeks pump furiously up and down and she utters little cries of pleasure as her petite round bottom pounds into my belly. I feel soft girlish fingers caressing my balls and my own gasps are smothered by Suzanne's little slit pressing hard into my face.
My breathing becomes faster and more ragged, timed with each quickening thrust of Suzanne's shapely round bottom. While my thick cock makes soft slurping noises as it slides in and out of the schoolgirl's tight little cunt. With a deep groan, partly muffled by Tracy's pussy covering my mouth and with beads of sweat running down my forehead, I feel my lust once again squirting forcefully between a young girl's shapely thighs.
"Oh sir, that was delicious!" sighs Tracy as she rolls over with exhaustion.
But there is to be no respite. Sally has also stripped herself naked and promptly scrambles over my prostate body, trapping my limp cock between her warm little unfurred cunt lips.
"No Sally, please!" I gasp.
"Now my turn," she giggles.
She begins to slide up and down astride my thighs, rubbing my penis with the soft lips between her legs.
Exhausted, my abused body pinned to the floor by four naked schoolgirls, I groan as I feel Percy slowly renewing his former stiffness.
This is going to be another busy day. |
4,944 | Raped by Racists | "Please! Please don't!" she begged.
"We'll show you what happens to girls who go out with niggers," the broad-shouldered man said.
The blonde man tore her jacket open, then they shoved her back on her back in the grass, prying her legs wide. He knelt between her legs as the big man knelt above her head, holding her hands pressed down against the grass above her.
The blonde guy leered down at her and then grabbed her blouse and tore it open. She gave a low cry and then resumed her weeping. His hands tore at her bra until it too parted. All three sighed in pleasure at the sight of her full, rounded breasts. "Nice fuckin' tits!"
Her groin ached, her buttocks ached, her thighs ached, her head was pounding, and her tits felt cut and torn as they pinched and groped at her oversized nipples.
Then the blonde man was kneeling in front of her. He gripped her hair and jerked her head up so hard she cried out in pain.
"Suck me off, whore!" he snarled, shoving the cockhead at her lips. She gurgled in denial as his cock slid past her lips and into her mouth. She'd never sucked a cock before, but had no choice now as he gripped her hair hard and force-fed it to her. She slipped her tongue along the underside of the head, the way Susan had recommended, rubbing it over his cock as she sucked on it. He was holding her hair hard, and fucking his cock back and forth in her mouth, using her mouth like it was a cunt. Misty tried to push against his hips to slow his pace, to control the depth of the strokes, but he slapped her hands away.
His cockhead kept smashing against the back of her mouth, against the entry to her throat, making her choke and cough and gag.
"Deep throat me, nigger-lover girl," he hissed. "Take it in your throat!" She didn't know what he meant and stopped sucking. He cursed her and thrust hard, and his cock slid right down her gullet.
Her eyes opened wide and she gave a brief chirp of horror before her voice was cut off, her throat blocked with cock meat. His prick slid right down into her throat until her nose was mashed against his belly, his cock hair grinding against her face.
He groaned and slid his cock up and down in her throat as she slapped hysterically at his hips. He cuffed her again, and pulled his cock back out, rubbing the wet, drooling meat against her face.
"Like that, nigger-fucker bitch?" he sneered. "I love these tits," he said, squeezing her left breast as he pulled completely out of her mouth. He pushed her onto her back, dropping to a straddling position above her torso. "Gimmie a tit fuck, whore!" he snarled.
"Wha... what?" she whimpered.
"Take your tits in your hands and fuck against my cock, you stupid nigger loving whore!" She looked down in shock at her breasts, then cried out as he slapped her face. "Come on, you cheap cunt, we ain't got all day!"
She cupped her breasts fearfully as he lowered his cock into her cleavage; she wrapped her heavy breasts around it, squeezing his cock between them. He started to hump up and down as she pressed her tits around it, and she rubbed them from side to side as he sighed in pleasure.
Her mind was numbed from the horror of what they were doing to her, and she was hardly thinking as he fucked her tits and she rubbed them against his cock. Suddenly, he moved forward and shoved it into her mouth again. She sucked helplessly as he pumped his load into her mouth. Then he pulled it out and held it in his fist right in front of her face. Pumping it frantically, more big wads of sperm shot out and hit her on the forehead. Another fat spurt of juice shot out and splattered on her nose, then more wads, a long stream of them, shot out onto her mouth, cheeks, nose and eyes.
He laughed, then rubbed his cock in her hair and stepped back as the other men rolled her onto her stomach.
The vicious oral invasion was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, but what was to come was still worse. Much worse. Her face was pressed flat into the dirt, her big breasts mashed beneath her. Then she felt her buttocks being spread roughly apart....
....She felt something pry between her buttocks, but at first ignored it. Her mind was hardly working and she didn't realize what was going on. But as the pain mounted behind her it woke her a little, enough for her to understand what was happening.
"Oh no! Oh please no!" she whimpered, struggling to pull away.
Her asscheeks were cupped tightly by the short man's hands. He held her easily as he pressed his cock against her asshole.
She sobbed and moaned and begged for mercy, but the three men only sneered and laughed as the short man worked his cock into her.
She cried out in pain as the cock gave a lurch forward, penetrating her virgin anal hole. He slapped her ass hard, cursing her. The cock worked deeper, tearing her rectum apart as it drove into her.
"Oh God!" she sobbed. "Oh my GOD!"
"You love it, you nigger loving slut!" a voice said.
"No! No! Don't do this to me! Please don't!"
The cock thrust in hard and she cried out again. It began to pump slowly in and out, with short movements, gradually working its way deeper and deeper into her anus. She felt it push high up into her guts, and her belly cramped as her bowels filled with cock.
"Ahhhh," he said, driving it in to the hilt, pressing his balls against her ass cheeks.
"UHHHhhhhh! Uuuuuuhhhhhh!" Misty moaned. The cock tore backwards, then thrust in again. It pulled back, then pounded deeply into her. Soon it had torn her asshole wide open and was pumping easily. The man squatted behind her, holding her ass cheeks as he pumped the entire length of his cock up and down in her rectum. He groaned in pleasure as he watched his pole sliding back and forth through the girl's little round hole.
The other man held Misty's shoulders into the dirt. She could hear him snigger as the short man sodomized her. Her big breasts were crushed under her and were scraping back and forth in the dirt as her body was jerked and pulled back and forth.
She was still wearing her jacket and shirt, which had now slid down around her shoulders. She tried to pull some fragments of them beneath her to put between her swollen nipples and the hard sandy ground, but the man above her was jamming her shoulders into the ground too hard.
The cock pounded in her asshole, reaming her out with furious, pistoning strokes. Again male hips hammered her buttocks. Her knees were grinding into the dirt just like her tits, shoulders and face, and she could feel the cold sand and dirt and grass between her bare toes.
He held her buttcheeks wide open, and was fucking almost straight down into her rectum. The force of his thrusts smashed her pussy down harder in the dirt as he grunted in pleasure.
Finally, the man dropped his load deep inside her anus, grunting with pleasure as he let it out.He slowed his pumping, then stopped, slapped her ass, and staggered away.
The big man let go of her shoulders and moved behind her, though she didn't see him. She didn't move at all as he got down on his knees behind her. She was completely naked now, but Misty no longer cared. "Please, no more," she moaned in despair as she felt the larger man press his cock against her anus.
She shuddered as he drove it into her to the hilt, then closed her wet eyes. The man pressed down on her shoulders, his belly coming down on her buttocks as he drove her flat on the ground. He fucked his cock up her anus for long minutes, his hands closing tightly around her throbbing breasts in front.
Her entire body was crushed into the dirt, and she almost felt like she was a part of it. She ground back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in time to his fucking movements, then he groaned and she felt his seed pumping into her asshole. She lost consciousness.
When she came to, she was laying flat, spread-eagled on the ground, naked, shivering with cold.
Her pussy felt wet and she could see the stickiness on her chest between her breasts, could feel the sand sticking to her there, and between her legs. Her anus throbbed, and still felt stretched, her bowels still felt full. Slowly, she looked up, then tried to push herself up to a sitting position. Feeling a sharp, tearing pain in her rectum, she reached back and to her shocked horror realized that they had shoved a thick tree branch up her ass! She pulled it out slowly, each retreating inch causing her fresh agony. Finally, the jagged end pulled free, allowing her torn anus to close at last.
She slowly made her way out of the field. |
4,957 | A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner) | "I can't wait to get this thing off me!" Kathy tugged at the bright orange chastity belt. "I can't believe I've been locked in it since Saturday."
Mommy patted Kathy's stocking-covered knee. "Just be patient, Sweetheart," she idly thumbed through a six-month-old copy of Ladies Home Dungeon, "I'm sure we won't have to wait long."
But Kathy couldn't sit still. She hated waiting rooms, she hated old magazines, and the pain killer the doctor had given her before inserting the butt plug had long since worn off. "This thing's killing me," the blonde girl shifted from one cheek to another as the bulbous rubber stopper pulsed inside her poop shoot.
Christi looked up from her copy of Submissive Bride, "here, this will take your mind off your bottom," she pointed to a photo spread of twin girls bound for matrimony. "Look, matching hers-and-hers wedding gowns with linking clit chains, isn't that neat!"
"I don't care," Kathy pouted. "If the doctor doesn't get me out of this thing soon, I'm not going to give him a blowjob or anything!"
"That's enough," Mommy corrected, "a lady never says 'no'." She stroked her daughter's budding breasts, "I think you'll be singing a different tune when he takes out that nasty old plug."
"I'm sorry, Mommy," Kathy snuggled against the older woman's shoulder, "it's just that it hurts and I'm so hungry. I haven't had anything except soda and semen since Saturday."
"You had me three times last night," Christi teased, "but I guess she-food is pretty low-calorie fare."
"Oh, yeah, and I'm really horny, too," Kathy whined and kicked her feet.
"Well," Mommy kissed her daughter sweetly. "I'm sure we can take care of that little problem, if the doctor doesn't satisfy you first."
"One guy satisfy me?" Kathy's mood brightened, "just whose daughter do you think I am?"
The nurse opened the inner-office door, "Kathy, the doctor will see you now."
"It's about time," Kathy followed the white-clad woman down the hall to the examination room and hopped up on the table.
"Well, hello, Pool Shark." The doctor smiled, zipped his pants and said good-bye to his last patient -- a pretty lady whose face he had decorated with a fashionable swath of frothy white semen. "And how are you doing today?"
"Not as good as you'll be once you get this thing off me." Kathy gave him her best come-hither look. "I'll be happy to thank you any way I can," she cooed, "and my Mommy and my fiancée are here, too, if I need reinforcements."
"Well," the doctor unlocked the chastity belt and slipped it from around Kathy's slender, inviting waist. "I thought you might want to join some friends of mine for a few rounds of miniature golf."
"Hey, wait a minute," Kathy protested. "I got locked in that thing because a bunch of guys used me for a pool table, now you want me to be a putting green?" She winced as he pulled out the catheter then turned around so he could remove the painful plug.
"Well, the balls are a lot smaller and they don't travel nearly as fast," the doctor popped the plug then spread her nether lips for a latex-gloved inspection, "but considering what you've been through you'd probably have more fun being the 19th hole, you know, in the clubhouse."
"Oh, yeah," Kathy smiled, "I'd really like that." She squeezed his probing fingers with her well-toned vaginal muscles. "And I really like, like, like, like your bedside manner," she stammered as the trained medical professional released her pent-up tension and transformed her into a puddle of pleasure on the examining room table.
"Then let's get your mother and your girlfriend and head for the club," the doctor helped the pleasantly pacified girl to her feet.
"One thing, doctor," Kathy paused, "my girlfriend, Christi, was really disappointed when she didn't get to play pool the other night. Do you think she could," she fondled his crotch, "you know, play a few rounds?"
"No trouble at all," the doctor puffed up from the pretty blonde's attention, "after all, I own the course."
Kathy clapped her hands and kissed the handsome man on the cheek. "Oh, thank you doctor, but," she smiled a naughty smile, "I better warn you, she may not want to give the guys their balls back." |
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. |
5,348 | How May I Pleasure You? | "How may I pleasure you?" you ask.
"I don't know," I reply. "That might take a bit of thought."
"Well, tonight is your night to be pleasured--to do what you will with me."
I think for a few moments before I finally respond. "All right. Stand over there, in front of me."
I motion for you to go to the middle of the floor. You do so.
"Strip for me," I say. "Slowly."
Soft music is already playing. In time to the slow beat, you sway back and forth, turn and begin to undo the buttons of your blouse. They come open one at a time until the two halves fall apart. As you start to remove it, I tell you to leave it on--for now.
You continue to gyrate before me, unzip your jeans and push them slowly to the floor. You step out of them. You slip out of your panties. Your pubic hair beckons from the shadows of your inner thighs, your breasts peek from the folds of your blouse.
"Now take off your shirt."
You pull the shirt from your shoulders, let it slip from your arms to join your other clothes on the floor.
"Turn around."
You turn your back to me. I gaze down the nice curve of your spine to the fleshy mounds of your buttocks to the sweep of your thighs and legs.
"Bend over, pull your bum cheeks apart."
You do so, and I look on the glistening slit of pinkish-purple that unfolds before my eyes.
"Finger yourself."
I watch as your hand moves to your cunt and you begin to rub your clitoris, then you slide your fingers into the depths of your cunt.
I stand and remove my own clothes. Still watching you as you massage your clit, I grab my cock and begin to rub the shaft back and forth.
"Get down on your back, open your legs wide and continue to finger yourself. Make yourself cum slowly."
You lie on the carpet, part your legs as wide as you can and your fingers massage your clit and disappear into and reappear from the deep dark wet recesses of your sex. You moan as you watch me stroke my cock back and forth.
"Don't stop," I tell you as I move the skin of my cock up and down along the shaft as I move forward to position myself astride your head. I bend down so that my cock and my balls dangle before your face.
"Lick and suck my balls."
Your tongue reaches out and you lick around my sack, then you suck my balls, first taking one into your mouth and rolling it around, then the other. The warmth of your mouth feels wonderful.
"Lick and suck my cock."
Your tongue runs up the length of my shaft to the heart-shaped head, then your mouth opens and you engulf it, sucking it, your lips moving around it, sliding up and down the stalk, taking it fully into your mouth. My cock hardens and enlarges as you continue to lave its length and breadth with your wet lips and tongue.
As you suck on it, I hear you moan loudly and thrash on the floor as your fingers bring you to an exciting cum.
"Push your breasts together."
You do so and I move down, kneel over you and slide my throbbing cock between the mounds of your breasts. I plunge back and forth, you gaze on the shining wet tip as it appears and disappears before your eyes. You flick at it with your tongue, kiss it with fleeting kisses.
I rise to my feet. "Kneel in front of me."
You get to your knees.
"Suck me dry."
Your mouth once more covers my cock, your hand grips the hardness of the shaft. You pump, you lick, you suck. I moan with pleasure.
Pumping, sucking, licking; pumping, sucking, licking...
"Aaahhhh---!"
I groan aloud with pleasure and thrust my cock deep into your mouth; you feel the hot jism spurt out, squirting again and again into your throat as you swallow it down. And you continue to suck till there is no drop left to cum.
I moan and sigh. You smile.
I look at you.
"And now--" I remark, "how may I pleasure YOU?" |
6,006 | Overheard In A Corridor... | "Hey--you're a writer, aren't you?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"I thought so--I recognized the name on your badge. You do some really good stuff--I like it a lot!"
"Well, thanks!" Blushing. "That's very nice to hear. So, what was your favorite?"
"Uh...favorite what?"
"Favorite one of my stories."
"I...uh...well, I couldn't really say, exactly..."
"Have you _really_ read any of my stuff?"
"Sure! Loads--it's really good!"
"So, what's your favorite?"
"Uh...'The Orgasm'."
"Good story. Not one of mine though. You _haven't_ read any of my stories, have you?"
"Well, maybe not in the truest sense...I mean, I've read the reviews, and Celeste loves you, and..."
"So, what is this? You just want to fuck? You figure if you tell me, 'Oh, I've read your stories, oh great writer, and they're peachy,' I'll swoon and say, 'Great, let's go shag someplace'?"
"No! I mean, I wouldn't put it quite like that..."
"Well, I would! Admit it--you lied to me in a blatant attempt to try and get some sex!"
"Oh, all right, but..."
"No buts! If you wanted sex, you should have just asked if I wanted to do it--not lie to me!"
"Sorry..." Pause. Shuffles feet nervously. "Well, do you wanna?"
"Do I wanna? Do I wanna what?"
"You know--fool around?"
"Gee--I thought you'd _never_ ask!"
THE END |
6,016 | Fevered Fall | "Feel for the bubbles," her mind told her. It was odd, she thought, how book-learning intruded into her brain at a time like this. She was in womb-like blackness, black night above, black water below. She was down in the depths, and the depths would claim her forever unless she swam very quickly.
But which way?! "Feel for the bubbles," her mind told her again. Her lungs simply begged, "BREATHE!"
"Fool lungs, we are underwater," her mind replied. Then, her mind told her again, "Feel for the bubbles."
As she'd been taught in survival training, she put her hand to her mouth. She exhaled precious air from her lungs, into the water.
Then it was that she realized she was wearing leather flight gloves on her hands, and the bubbles, released from her lungs through her mouth and nostrils, escaped into the black void of the watery depths without her being able to feel which direction they went.
She gaped into the dark night of the undersea world. She tried to find the escaping bubbles with her eyes. She looked 'up'. (Or was that direction actually down?!) She could see nothing. Nothing but darkness, with the all-enveloping darkness of eternal death just around the corner from her consciousness.
Judy Dan ripped the leather flight glove off her hand. She clapped her fingers to her lips and exhaled again.
The bubbles travelled sideways off her fingertips.
Sideways?!
"Good God, we'll just be swimming sideways, deep under the bay's surface, and we shall drown!" something inside her squalled.
"No! Bubbles travel toward the surface! 'Sideways' is really up!" a voice in her head commanded.
With her lungs screaming, her mind increasingly a bewildered mass of confusion, Judy Dan swam frantically 'sideways.'
As she swam, in the rising terror of her oxygen-starved brain, she saw herself swimming through the corpses that she'd shot on Clinton Bridge.
"But they're only children!" her co-pilot, most certainly dead now somewhere down in the drowned Hoodoo, screamed to her in the depths.
Judy Dan pictured herself swimming through them. She pictured them reaching out to her and welcoming her into the eternal night of death.
Her head burst gasping and shocked from the water. The fires along the shoreline of New Washington burned into her eyes. It was the sight of rioting and death, but to Judy Dan, it was as if she were viewing Paradise itself.
Air! She inhaled. Her lungs went to work. Her mind cleared. The groping hands of the corpses, flung by her Gatling from Clinton Bridge, receded.
"And even you, Patroclus!" rattled through her mind, like dead bones written on dry leaves.
"Not tonight," her mind answered the corpses floating in the waters of the bay. "Not yet, anyway."
She swam with a strong stroke toward shore, tearing her waterlogged flight suit from her body as she went. She was like a snake shedding an old skin; boots, her other glove, her zippered jumpsuit with all her prized patches sewn carefully onto it. All gone, all the skin of her old, almost-dead self.
Tongsun Anu walked back to the stern of the boat. He came up beside Harold and stood next to him in the darkness. In the distance, he saw an Imperial Coast Guard cutter passing. It moved against the Oakland shoreline; the fires there mingled with the cutter's nautical lights.
"How's it going?" Harold asked. Tongsun nodded, silently.
"Good," Tongsun replied. "She's sailing us just fine."
The boat rocked casually with the waves. Its engine murmured like the voices of a dozen oarsmen, lashed below decks, moving a Roman warship through Mediterranean waters. Tongsun stood beside Harold. He remembered a half-learned history lesson: Rome against Carthage. Who had won? He knew Rome had been like the Imperium, in that it had considered itself strong. He couldn't remember which side won, though. He thought about it for some time. Then he remembered how powerful the Nazis had felt. He smiled. He knew the outcome of their regime. A desire for total control had ended in total failure.
A wave slapped the side of the boat. It cast up salt spray into Tongsun's face. He hoped it wasn't a bad omen. He looked at Harold. The spray had hit him too. If the Coast Guard cutter were as low in the water as their own small boat, Tongsun told himself, the water would splash the crew of that vessel too.
Harold wrapped his arms tighter around his chest. He looked at Tongsun.
"Hey T, it's cold, man," Harold said. His voice had a slight whine to it. He looked tired. They'd both been up for many hours now. Tongsun rubbed his eyes. The adrenaline rush they'd both felt up on Clinton bridge, battling their way through the throngs back to the International Port, had passed. Tongsun exhaled. He saw his breath in the air.
"I know. I'm cold too," Tongsun said.
The fog had thickened. It blurred the lights of the buildings floating above them, the Sky Dwellings. It blurred the white-lit veranda on the White House across the bay from them. They stared at the residence of the President of the Imperium on the bluffs across the water.
"Have they broken in to the Sky Dwelling yet?" Tongsun asked Harold. The blonde boy looked over at an Asian boy who wore glasses. He sat amidst a cluster of boys on the deck of the small boat they had stolen.
"How're you coming?" Harold asked the Asian boy. The Asian stared at the screen of a portable computer in his lap. It was the only source of light on their boat; on purpose, to avoid detection.
The Asian boy, named Wally, nodded. "Working good," Wally said. "Uplink works. I think I've got-- I've got it! Contact!"
There was a small cheer among the boys, and two girls, huddled on the boat.
"Keep your voices down!" Harold hissed.
"We have bush," Tongsun said.
"Huh?" Harold asked. Tongsun nodded his head, as if to disavow the unnecessary noise he'd made. "An old line from a movie," he whispered to Harold.
"Oh," Harold said. He turned and looked at Wally again. Two boys, one Hispanic, the other Puerto Rican, were staring over Wally's shoulders. Their faces were gently illuminated by the glow of the laptop's screen.
"Click on that," the Puerto Rican suggested. He pointed over Wally's shoulder at the screen.
"Really?" Wally asked. A quizzical look appeared on his face. But he followed the Puerto Rican's advice. There was the click of a mouse.
"Shit!" the Hispanic declared. His eyes, like those of the other people clustered around Wally, brightened with glee.
"We've been granted root access!" Wally said in a low voice, triumphantly. He looked up from the screen at Harold and Tongsun, standing in the boat's stern. Tongsun sighed. He looked up at the building hovering over the seaward approach to the White House.
"Their so-called 'civil society' became a playground for them and a prison for us," Tongsun said. The boat rocked. There was silence on board. Tongsun's voice had the eerie sound of a verdict being delivered on the Imperium. Several boys on deck, including Harold, nodded their agreement.
"Playtime's up," Harold said. Being with Tongsun had given him an ability to say cryptic things. Things like his Samoan friend sometimes uttered. He looked at Tongsun. He grinned. But Tongsun appeared sad, as if he wished, even now, for some peaceful way to end the regime.
"Tongsun. I'm waiting for your command to perform a Full Drop," Wally said. His voice was low, but serious. He now held the lives of all the building's inhabitants in his right index finger, the one hovering over the mouse.
Tongsun sighed. He appeared, for a moment, to doubt his mission. So many lives! He didn't even know anyone in that building! Yet he would kill them all, with one word.At this moment, they were reassuring themselves of their safety and immunity to mortality. Their cupboards were stocked with Vitamin E and Vitamin C, and they had fitness centers, medical centers, and an army of guards, maintenance people, and technicians. However, they had one very nasty bug in their computer that controlled their Lift Engines.
A wave rose up over the bow and slapped seawater into Tongsun and Harold's faces again. Tongsun blinked. He realized that the sea, like gravity, did not care about him or even the Imperium itself. The sea was implacable and unfeeling. It was a domain unto itself, and the humans in a boat lying on its surface were nothing to it. In the timeframe of the ocean, humans were but children of wayward fish, who had been foolish enough to crawl out of the sea's womb. The sea was their original mother, and like real mothers sometimes, the sea would happily swallow them back up.
Tongsun turned away from the sea and the view of the Oakland shoreline across the bay. "Thanks," he said to Wally. "Just hold it a moment. Don't click yet." Tongsun wiped the salt spray out of his eyes and motioned for the girl behind the wheel of the boat, in the wheelhouse, to straighten the boat out. "Shit," he muttered to Harold. "We're not ready."
"We've got root access," Harold said to Tongsun. "What more could you want?"
"We need to get onto dry land," Tongsun told Harold. He pointed to the shoreline, looming black and large before them.
"We just came from the International Port," Harold said.
"Yeah, but there's gonna be a big wave generated when we drop that building," Tongsun said. "We need to moor our boat and get up out of the water."
"Oh," Harold said. "You're right. There's never a time like the present to go visit Sausalito."
"Yes," Tongsun said. "But we won't have to go that far north."
Harold looked at the girl in the wheelhouse. She glanced back at them. Her silhouette stood out black and stark against the wheelhouse's front windshield. Beyond that loomed the dark shoreline of Lime Point. Harold wrapped his arms tighter against his body. It was cold, he complained to himself, and his teeth chattered. He watched the cluster of boys around the computer screen, waiting tensely for the word to drop the Sky Dwelling.
The small boat puttered toward the northern shore of the bay. A boy in the bow of the boat turned on a flashlight and scanned the shoreline ahead of them. They were quite close to it now. He looked for an opening in the rocks of the shore. Suddenly, his flashlight fell into the aperture of a small cove. His beam became lost in blackness. On either side of the lost beam stood tall, wave-worn rocks, wet with seawater round their bases, where they sloped into the bay. The wave-splashed parts of the rocks reflected the lights of New Washington and the Oakland shore.
"Holding at root directory level," Wally announced softly, staring at his computer screen.
Tongsun drew in his breath. "Time is on my side," he said in a low voice. Harold turned and looked at him in the darkness. "Then again, maybe it isn't," Tongsun added. His voice rose. "Listen, everyone," he said. "I'm worried. I'm afraid we'll run out of time to drop that building before we get ourselves out of this boat. They could detect our presence in their computer at any moment."
"Right," the Asian boy agreed, nodding.
"The dropped building is going to make a pretty big wave in the bay," Tongsun said. "It might swamp our boat. If we don't get up on dry land, the wave could drown us. Where's the person who said we should bring along Glad bags for our guns, in case it rains?"
"Here," someone said in the darkness.
"Good," Tongsun said. "Bag everything. Bag all your weapons. Do it right now. Get them in bags and stow them wherever you can."
"What if we're attacked?" a boy asked.
"Then we'll get our asses blown off, 'cause all our shit's stuck inside garbage bags down on our boat," a boy answered.
"We'll take our guns with us if we can," Tongsun said. "But if we run out of time to get up on dry land, we won't have time to haul all our guns up with us."
There was a murmur among the boys.
"No talking! Just do it!" Harold said.
"If you have a pistol, and a belt and a holster for it, no problem," Tongsun said. "Anything heavier needs to be bagged and stowed."
A sound of furious bagging ensued. The boat drew up along the shoreline in the darkness, guided by the boy at the bow, with his lone flashlight. Weapons were wrapped, and a roll of packing tape was passed around to seal them shut against the water.
"Y'know, Glad bags can be used as body bags too," a boy said. "Should we save a few in case we need to bag the president?"
"Quiet!" Harold said. A ripple of laughter passed through the boys on deck.
There was a scraping sound. "Captain, we've hit land," a boy said.
Their boat passed along a large, half-sunken rock, scraping algae off its stony surface. They moved into the hole between the rocks that formed a small cove.
Harold glanced back at the Presidio shoreline. "Too bad there's not a Sky Dwelling right over the White House," Harold said to Tongsun. "Then we could just drop the building straight down onto the president's head!"
Tongsun laughed in the darkness. "They're not that stupid, Harold," Tongsun chuckled.
"Shit! I think we've been discovered!" Wally blurted. He sounded worried and didn't bother to keep his voice down.
"Damn!" Tongsun said.
Beyond the rocks, the Golden Gate Bridge loomed. Crowds of people could be heard, faintly, jostling one another up on the causeway. There were sounds of gunfire. The D.C. Sheriffs were shooting into the crowd; the crowd was firing back. Suddenly, a Hoodoo approached from the Oakland shoreline. It passed like an auger of death beneath the overhead buildings. Without bothering with a megaphone warning, it opened fire on the crowd on the bridge.
"Damn! They're trying to eject me!" Wally cried.
Tongsun clenched his fists. "Full drop!" he yelled.
"Hang on!" Harold shouted to the boys. He gripped the gunwale of the boat and gazed skyward. A building hovering near the Presidio side of the bay trembled. Its underside dipped suddenly lower. The Hoodoo passed over the Golden Gate Bridge. It banked.
Like a whale caught by a spear, pulled by a whaling ship, but still full of life, the Sky Dwelling resisted. Wally tapped frantically on his keyboard. The Puerto Rican standing behind him gestured frantically, then grabbed the mouse, rolled it, and clicked.
The Hoodoo came in for another pass at the bridge. Its guns began blazing.
The Lift Engines on the Sky Dwelling over the Presidio side of the bay shrieked. Suddenly, the building dropped 200 feet. The Hoodoo finished its pass, rose, and slammed straight into the underside of the descending building. A cheer went up from their boat as the boys watched.
"Quiet!" Harold muttered. He stared, open-mouthed, as the building struggled against the pull of gravity.
"Dammit! I'm losing control!" Wally swore.
"It's coming!" Harold shouted. He pointed up. With a tremendous roar, its engines still fighting hard, the building lost 500 feet of altitude. Then it stabilized, briefly, jarring itself to a stop in mid-air. Sections of the building broke away, unable to withstand the force of the mid-air stop.
Then gravity won, and the building came crashing down.
There was an enormous splash. The building toppled toward Alcatraz as it hit the bay. Mixed in with the sound of the building hitting the water was the sound of violent explosions.
Their boat, its motor puttering quietly, slipped deeper into the rock-strewn cove. The view of the bay was lost to them. Tongsun stared at the rocks which surrounded them. With fear in his eyes, he gazed at the slip-channel into which they'd passed, hoping for safety.
There was a sound as of approaching thunder. Tongsun turned and looked at the huddled boys in the darkness.
"Get ready! Wave's coming!" Tongsun shouted.
The boat dropped suddenly, as the water rushed out of their cove. A second passed. The roar of thunder grew louder. The outswirling water drew the boat toward the cove's entrance. Then a scraping sound was heard, and a thud. The boat settled onto wet sand and caught itself in rocks on the sandy bottom.
Beyond the wall of rocks protecting them from the bay, a thousand horses seemed to be thundering down on them. With a mighty crash, the wave caused by the dropped building hit the rocks on the bayward side of the cove. Salt spray hurled itself over the tops of the rocks and came splashing down into the little boat. At the same time as the boat was swamped from above, the level in the watery cove suddenly rose, tossing the boat high. They were nearly thrown over the tops of the rocks, only to fall again, within the cove, and then rise up again, then fall once more. There was a splintering sound, amidst the waves, of wood cracking.
Slowly, the waters subsided. Tongsun was soaked. He looked at Harold. The boy's blonde hair was matted against his face.
"We're taking on water! Shit! The whole deck is flooded!" a boy said behind them, in the darkness. Tongsun heard splashing as people began milling about.
The sound of the boat's engine coughed and wheezed. Then, remarkably, it returned to its usual rhythm.The boat chugged out of the cove and into the bay.
"Damn. Nobody told that bitch to move the boat out of the cove," Harold cursed. He stared through the blackness at the silhouette of the girl in the wheelhouse.
"It's okay," Tongsun said. "It's okay!" His face was drenched. His bushy black hair was matted and bedraggled. But he smiled. |
7,250 | Challenge For Dominance | "The stars, they look all too near..." sighed Drucilla, lying on her back atop a dining table while staring at the ceiling.
"You're quoting poor musicians again, darling, not to mention the fact that there's a ceiling in the way...."
Spike turned his chair and wheeled toward the door. Of course, he could walk, but no need to drop his charade and lose the only real bit of attention Dru had paid him lately. He looked down the walkway of their latest haven, awaiting Angel's return with his dinner. Sighing again, he rolled backwards from the door, resigned to the fact that Angel was out having his fun while he (due to his "injury") was confined to quarters with a centuries-old mental case...not that he didn't love her dearly, it was just that...well...after quite a few decades of her nonsensical ramblings and such, she did tend to grate on the nerves. But love was love...especially when it meant the difference between winning or losing this little grudge match with Angel. Thoughts raced through Spike's head. "How can I show him up? How do I win without losing a potent ally against the Slayer? What can I do to both humiliate and win his respect, as well as impress Drucilla?" And with that, it came to him: Show his prowess on Angel, in front of Dru, and prove himself the "pack-alpha" of sorts once and for all...
"Honey, I'm ho-ome!" Angel boomed from the doorway, a dripping burlap sack clutched in his hands.
In an instant, Dru had vacated her position of the past hours atop the table and rushed to his arms, causing the sack to fall to the floor forgotten as the mad vampiress covered Angel's face with soft kisses.
"Yes, yes, welcome home indeed, what'd you bring me for dinner Angelus?"
CHAPTER: Part Two
Spike lunged from his chair, crashing shoulder first into the door, knocking Angel back a few steps. As Spike and Angel both fought to regain their balance, Drucilla dropped the now bloodless child and sat with rapt attention as her two companions began to square off.
Spike's wiry frame seemed outmatched by the other, more muscular, vampire. Despite his advantage in size, Angel was handicapped by the element of surprise and sheer ferocity Spike used to press his own advantage. Angel continued to stumble backward, falling on his back and feeling somewhat vulnerable in his state of undress. Spike continued to advance on him, an almost feral glint in his eye.
"Is that fear I smell, Angelus? Have you gone so long without any challenges to that swollen ego of yours that a puny threat like me actually scares you? Pathetic. If you thought that shagging that bloody cunt of a Slayer would earn my respect..." He spit on the ground, continuing his approach with his fists balled, "You, Mr. Vampire-Come-Lately, spent far too much time enjoying the fact that you had a soul. You, Angelus, lack the balls to properly lead a boy-scout troop, let alone a coterie of blood-drinking nocturnal marauders. You, my boy, need to be taught a lesson..."
CHAPTER: Part Three
"Wha...what's going on?" Angel croaked as consciousness slowly returned. His left eye had swollen shut, and the caked blood around his other eye was making actual sight a bit of a problem. What he could make out was Drucilla sitting on Spike's lap, in a chair at the end of a table he was obviously bound to.
"Oh, good morning sleepy head," Spike said, grinning a toothy smile he'd cultivated for just such an occasion.He rose, ushering Dru from his lap where he dipped her low into a deep kiss, making sure to remain in Angel's line of sight. "You missed all the fun. There was a knock-down drag-out brawl right here, and guess what we discovered? That you, that would be Angelus the Bitch, couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag with a map and a flashlight!"
"Fuck you, Spike!" Angel spat, and thus reopening a wound on his lip which began to dribble onto the table.
"Ah, cursing, the crutch of the intellectually handicapped...but now that you mention it, that is essentially what I have planned for you..." Spike said, beginning a slow circle around the table. He came to a stop behind Angel and clapped twice. In an instant, Drucilla had produced a small wooden box marked "Dru's Toy Chest" in childish scrawl, and laid out an array of her "toys" on the table in front of Angel's face. Although it was more than hazy, he was sure he could make out an assortment of blades and whips. "Ah, this will do nicely, my lovely assistant," Spike said, holding a well-crafted scourge up to the light.
The piece was nice indeed, with each tail in the flog made of braided leather and knots of barbed wire fastened to each end. Spike slowly traced circles into his victim's back, the steel on the ends dragging but not breaking skin.
SMACK!
The blow landed across the small of Angel's back, tearing into the flesh. Angel's feeble attempt at crying out went unheard as Spike returned to tracing his circles, this time trailing blood from new wounds across the bare skin.
SMACK!
Again the scourge fell, this time across the shoulders, marring the flesh with another jagged set of gashes. Repeatedly it fell, drawing blood until Angel's back resembled something akin to ground beef. Blood pooled between his shoulders, and Dru strolled over to run her fingers through the puddle before gesturing for Spike to continue. Dropping the whip, Spike placed his hand in the pool Dru had played in mere seconds before and traced a line from the pool to the top of Angel's anal cleft. He allowed the blood to slowly trickle down the crack, then he repeated the process. Again and again, until blood seemed to drip continuously from Angel's ass.
Once there was enough blood there, Spike began the torture in earnest. He rubbed the warm liquid into Angel's puckered anus, slowly inserting a finger, then two. Angel inhaled sharply at the invasion. He felt his lining tear as Spike slid in three, then all four fingers, stretching the hole far beyond human or undead capacity. Fresh blood from torn flesh lubricated his hand as Spike balled his fist and rammed it in fully, leaving it in place and allowing the sphincter to close over his wrist. Once he felt Angel relax, he tore his hand away sharply, and grinned as he watched the hole attempt to find its original shape to no avail. Spike took his bloodied hand and backhanded Angel across the cheek with a wet "Splat!"
"Have I impressed upon you the importance of leaders, being me, and followers, meaning you, yet?" Spike asked, shaking the excess blood from his hand.
Part Four
Angel's swollen jaw made a reply nearly impossible, but for all intents and purposes, the whimper he emitted showed he was close to submission. Spike made his way around the table, a wicked grin on his face. He stopped behind his victim and crouched to observe the damage done. What he saw surprised and intrigued him, not so much the actual damage he had caused but its apparent effect on Angel.
"So, little Angelus isn't so little, is he? Was it the flogging or the fisting that made you get so hard?" Spike rose and stepped back to contemplate the situation. He reached between Angel's legs and massaged the sack, then proceeded to squeeze quite hard. "You get off on pain, Angel?" Spike chuckled a bit. "Dru, darling, bring me the toybox. I have an idea...."
Angel made little effort to struggle; whether from fatigue or 'other reasons' was unclear. Spike reached into the box and withdrew a set of alligator clips attached to wires, which he connected to the flesh of Angel's testicles. He then fit the Pleasure-Sheath harness over Angel's cock and clipped it around his waist. Another set of clips connected to a pair of metal terminals on the sheath, allowing the battery in the box to power the vibrating/sucking action of the device. However, the same switch operated the clips attached to Angel's flesh as well, sending a current into his balls while the machine pleasured him.
Spike's face lit up with a maniacal grin as he flipped the switch. He walked around and placed his face near his defeated adversary. "You feel that, Angelus? It hurts so good, doesn't it? You like being my toy, DON'T YOU?!?! I'd best see you nodding, and soon, boy..." Angel began nodding, as quickly as his bloodied state would allow. Spike continued, "Are you enjoying this? Is Angel gonna cum soon?" Angel's face began to contort, this time not only in pain, but in pleasure as well. Spike walked to the operating box and twisted the dial, increasing the power to both the sheath and the clips. When he returned to his position, Angel's eyes had rolled back as he neared orgasm.
Then, with a shudder, it was over. Angel filled the sheath with his seed and collapsed on the table. Spike removed the apparatus and began cleaning up. He unbound Angel, rolling him onto his back and pouring the contents of the sheath down his throat as one last show of dominance. Once the mess was suitably clean, Spike crooked his arm, which Dru took, and they retired to their bedroom. |
7,268 | CD's Magical Love Cream | "You'll see how well it works when you get home. If your wives don't drag you into the bedroom, I'll write any of you a check for a thousand dollars. You'll see."
And, of course, they did see. No one asked him to write the check. The following weekend, they reported their wives had ravished them after the football game and wouldn't stop until they'd licked their faces. They had "fucked their brains out," as one of them put it.
That was proof enough for CD's friends to agree to fill containers with sperm for CD to make up enough for all of them to enjoy. Each week they masturbated daily and collected their spunk. When they delivered a full individual container, CD exchanged it for a vial of the cream.
It became a bonding connection for CD and his friends. Soon, they began masturbating together, watching xxx videos during half times of the TV sporting events at CD's house.
They usually sat around in a circle, nude, jacking off together, sharing tales about the sexual conquests that had come to them since they began using his sex cream.
Unbeknownst to his pals, CD didn't use all his own sperm for the cream. He enjoyed eating it too much to sacrifice all of it. He mixed some of his own together with about a quarter of what his friends were producing and used it for evening cocktails, tossing back shot glassfuls as ordinary men do whiskey.
After experiencing personally the amazing results CD's cream produced, one of the men in the group-- a man named Milton Houser-- suggested they sell CD's new product. "Considering what it's done for all of us, we'll be millionaires! What say, CD?"
Houser was a talented marketing man. He suggested calling their new product "Love Skin Cream," with a price tag of $75 per vial.
CD would be in charge of manufacturing. Dave Penser and Howard Bullock took on the responsibility for sales. And Houser would handle the marketing.
His plan was to use the power of e-commerce, to establish a web site and sell it on over the net.
Houser began by setting up trade-out cross selling ad banners, hot links and flash screens on compatible sites to attract customers. He wrote the copy for the home page and found a freelance web site designer to take care of the art direction and getting on a server and up on the net.
CD came up with the idea for the logo on the package. Penser arranged all the details for encrypted bank card sales transactions over the net.
They all agreed that once the orders started coming in they'd get together every weekend to put labels on the containers and wrap them for shipping.
Orders began pouring in from all over the world. Word of mouth recommendations from satisfied customers increased the business incrementally. They grossed $150,000 in the first 30 days. Ninety percent of the customers reordered more.
CD and his friends were each masturbating four to six times a day to keep up with the orders. Soon they simply could not keep up with their burgeoning enterprise.
They had a meeting to resolve the crisis and Houser suggested getting together with the Jack 'n Jill club in Philadelphia. It was an ensemble of about 20 couples and singles who met weekly to masturbate for each other's pleasure.
The president of the club, a tall thin man named Rick ("No last names required in our club," he explained) made an attractive deal. He agreed to have an attendant collect sperm from the jack off shooters in the club for a cash payment of $5.00 per load. He said the money would be used for paying the rent in the hotel and some snacks and drinks for his Jack 'N Jill meetings.
CD's group agreed to a similar arrangement with an Asian gambling house on the South side of Philly, though this source of supply cost them more per man. The house manager would inform every man in the room that he could collect $10 for masturbating in the back room and leaving his deposit in a vial.
This set up was more expensive than the Jack 'n Jill's club but they went along with it because they were desperate for additional raw materials.
To make absolutely sure they had a continuing supply of sperm, they ran ads in the college newspaper proclaiming they were conducting a scientific study of male sexual potency and promising to pay volunteers $7.50 for a load of their sperm. They set up a small clinic near the university where students came in as often as they could muster a hardon. Ultimately, this proved to be the most reliable source of supply.
Penser posed as a research physician and no one questioned his credentials. |
5,472 | Is This my Family? | "Oh! Oh!"
The woman on TV was riding a man. His cock was of respectable length, and her pussy was sopping wet. I could even hear her juices squish over the generic sex music. I was always taking a risk when I watched these movies. I am only 17, and I do stay with my parents. My parents were not at the house, and my aunt from next door was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, although everyone knows I can keep myself at the age of 17. My aunt was actually attractive in my eyes. I tried to dismiss the incestuous thoughts, but they always lingered. On days I see her a lot, I usually masturbate thinking about her.
"Bump."
After hearing so many bumps, I turned the TV down to make sure that if my aunt or anyone else happened to come to the house, it would not be audible outside. I had been watching for a while, and I really needed to get a load off, so I lotioned up my hand and started matching strokes with the people on TV. I found my mind drifting to my aunt. She was bright-skinned and kind of tall and slender. Her breasts were not huge, but they also were not small. Her hips had near-perfect curves that looked absolutely stunning in the perfect pair of jeans.
After I tried rejecting those thoughts, I started thinking about a girl from school. She was a bit shorter than me, maybe 5'3", kind of chubby but not fat. Fair-sized breasts and lips that seemed designed for kissing.
My mind was snapped back into the real world when I heard the living-room door open, and I heard steps. I jumped up and tried to turn the tape off and pull my pants up before I was discovered, but I was too late. I was not smart enough to keep the remote by me, and my aunt walked in with me standing by the TV and my pants by my ankles.
I didn't know what to do. I had never prepared myself for being caught. I thought it was impossible to be caught. I was always listening. I had even turned the TV low enough for me to hear a key in the door or something. My aunt didn't say anything, but she did rub her breasts through her shirt while she kept her eyes fixed on the TV couple. I still didn't know what to do.
She told me to act like she wasn't there, but that was obviously hard. I had never had sex or anything, never been with a girl, I had just always masturbated and watched tapes and read stories. I had read stories where guys are lucky enough to be able to fuck their family members without getting in trouble. I couldn't imagine anything like that in my family. But my aunt was simply tantalizing. I realized that I had been standing there for quite a while, so I sat down on the couch again. My aunt came around the couch and sat down while at the same time she was removing her shirt!
She was casually dressed and had been at home all day, so she had no bra on. I could not believe the corner of my eyes, and I dared not turn my head towards her. She started playing with her nipples. She licked her finger and lightly ran it in circular patterns. She rubbed her pussy through her jeans. I did not realize that I actually had turned my head, and I was staring at her body, watching her. When I looked up at her face, I noticed that her eyes were actually on me.
She stood up briefly and pulled her pants down and sat back down. Then she only had her blue silk-like panties on. They had a wet spot where her pussy was, and I could smell a rather exotic odor mystifying the room. When she sat down, she seemed to make it a point to ease herself very close to me. I could not scoot back because I was already against the arm of the couch. She reached over and lightly touched my dick, which was as hard as a rock, no doubt the hardest it had ever been. The lotion had mostly dried off, but her hand was wet with her bodily juices. At that level of excitement, I nearly came right there on her hand.
She laid back on the couch and spread her legs rather wide. Remember, she is quite tall and has long, slender, attractive legs. In fact, she stands at 6'7". She told me to rub my dick on her panties like I was fucking her. I hesitated, but she only looked at me like obedience was inevitable. Like it was just doing what she said to do since she was in charge. Like she was telling me to wash the dishes or something and waited for my obedience and not having to say her command twice. With that look, I got up and did as she said. The silkiness, in addition to the wetness of her panties, combined to make a feeling that I never dreamed possible. It was so soft, it was ten times as good as my lotion-soaked hands. I put my hands right by her shoulders on the back of the couch for balance and continued my motion. She moaned in pleasure. Suddenly, she reached up and pulled me closer to her and kissed me. I didn't know how to kiss, but she apparently knew enough for the both of us.
She pushed me away and stood up and pulled her panties off. Her pubic area was partially shaved. Not much hair was there, but her pussy was in clear sight. She rubbed it for a second and poked her finger into it. Then she put the finger in her mouth and sucked her juices. She poked herself again and waved her finger in front of my nose and then smeared the juice around my lips and finally put her finger in my mouth. Then she positioned me laid back on the couch like she had been, and she straddled herself on top of me. She guided my dick into her pussy and started riding. It was just like I imagined while I masturbated. I always imagined people riding me, including her.
With my inexperience, all I could do is sit back and enjoy as my cock slid in and out of her pussy while she bounced up and down in front of me, and her cries were music to my ears. Then I heard something most unbelievable.
"Look."
It was the voice of one of my cousins, my aunt's daughter. She was 14, and I also had fantasies about her sometimes. I could only imagine who she was talking to. No doubt it was her brother who is 15 years old. Those two shuffled in as what Aunt Dana and I were doing is normal. Tina, my cousin, came around the couch and rubbed my bare chest. I couldn't believe it. Then she rubbed her mom's chest. All the while she is still riding me. She finally stopped and lifted off of me. Again I was on the brink of cumming. She got off of me and started kissing Brian, her son. He returned her embrace, and the two kissed passionately.
While I was watching them, Tina put her arms around me and planted a passionate kiss on me. She was wearing a very tight dress and looked very sexy. With a leap of courage, I unzipped her dress while we were still embraced. I also undid her bra and started lightly rubbing down her back. She turned around and bent over onto the couch. She told me she wanted me to get her from behind, so I did. I bent over and kissed her neck as I pumped, first slowly and then speeding up. Her pussy became increasingly slick as she came on my dick. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and she jerked her way through orgasm. Then I came too, right inside her. It felt so good. I always came in paper towels, but now I actually came in a pussy.
Brian and Dana were still at it on the other side of the couch. She was laid back on the couch, and he was on top of her, pumping in and out. Then he started cumming inside her, and they kissed.
Needless to say, things have not been the same since then. I spent an enormous amount of time with my new favorite aunt and favorite cousins. My parents never found out, and it was safe to just go to my aunt's house and watch a flick without ever being caught by someone who could cause trouble. Even though I didn't have to, I still masturbated from time to time, and I got chances to fuck both Tina and Dana throughout the week. After a few months, Brian and I even started giving each other blow jobs.
I was a senior in high school, and Brian was a freshman. Neither of us had been with anyone besides his sister and mother and each other. So we started looking for ways to be more adventurous with our sex lives. We tried to think of things we could do at school without being caught. When no one was watching, we snuck in fondles on each other in the halls. We never had any classes together, but we did have lunch together. This opened up some possibilities. During the spring, it was common for some students to go outside during the lunchtime.There was a courtyard, a basketball court, and a park-like area with a few swings and trees. Trees also marked the property boundaries of the school. The outside area was bordered by the back yard border. The area was woody, and it was easy to slip into the wood area where you could not be seen.
Brian and I set out to do this one day. We decided to skip lunch altogether so that we could get outside before the rest of the students. We got out there and into the trees before any other students came out. We made sure that we were well out of sight before we started kissing. He made it a point to bring out a bottle of lotion in his pocket, and so we pulled our pants down and used his lotion to masturbate. We told each other about girls we were attracted to to fill our imagination. We had never done it before, but on that same day, we set out to fuck each other. He bent over and supported himself by holding on to a tree while I lotioned his ass and prepared to stick my prick in.
I bent myself over him and used one of my hands to guide my dick into his ass. I started slowly, like the internet stories said to do. I got deeper with each pump, and it started becoming easy. I used my other hand to play with his dick. He moaned in pleasure as I rammed my cock into his ass, harder as I became more comfortable with what I was doing. It did not take long before I was ready to cum. I pulled out, and he kneeled down and started sucking my dick. When he deep-throated me, I could not take it anymore, and I came in his mouth. He stood up, and we kissed again. This was the first time we had ever kissed after a blowjob, but it was nice.
By this time, lunch time was over, and we had to head for class. We were afraid to emerge from the woods while other students were still outside, so we thought it would be in the best interest to be late. We weren't usually late, but it was not uncommon at our school, so it would not be a big problem. |
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." |
7,906 | FRESH PRODUCE | "Ma'am, are you okay?"
Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. For a brief instant, she thought she had died and gone to heaven.
"May I help you? Do you need medical assistance?"
As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased by ringlets of jet-black hair.
The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was -- lying flat on her "ass."
"I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured.
He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet. The entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk.
"What happened?" he asked.
She could feel her face becoming beet-red. This was surely the most embarrassing moment of her life, but Thank Heavens she wasn't going to be on "Candid Camera." She hoped.
"Can't be for certain. One never knows why one falls. I am known to be a klutz." Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace during her moment of pathetic self-pity and humiliation.
"Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!" he replied.
His response didn't help at all. It just increased her desire to cry.
"Um... that was pretty lame, sorry. Look, are you sure you're okay? Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something...you could file a lawsuit if you're hurt."
"No, no, I am fine -- really. The only thing bruised here is my ego." She refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her well-padded, but shapely derriere had cushioned the fall.
Now it was his turn not to laugh.
"Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliché City! Now we're even. One-to-one. Tit-for-Tat."
"Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most cliché place of all. This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself. Hi. I am Henley."
"Hi, Henley, I am Nora. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Nora. Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate milk?"
"I feel like a complete idiot. A well-educated, mature woman drinking chocolate milk," Nora blushed.
"Hey, I drink it too. Man, I still eat Pop Tarts." He glowed at the thought. Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars.
"Pop Tarts! I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers," Nora laughed.
"Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added.
Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. "I ate that every morning for ten years." She paused. "No wonder my growth was stunted."
It had occurred to her that Henley was towering above her. She was at least a foot shorter. He must have been 6'2", maybe more. She felt like Sprout next to the Jolly Green Giant.
This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans.
"Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked.
"There is a God," Nora replied.
"Pardon me?" Henley looked confused.
"Nothing...I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir. If you don't mind being seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt."
Henley laughed. A good hearty, fiber-enriched laugh. "Not at all -- my pleasure."
They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side.
"Soup." Nora stopped.
"Soup, uh, soup is good. Soup is good for you."
"Yes, that is what they say. Hmmm. I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora said.
"You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath.
Aisle Six beckoned.
"Fruit." Henley stopped. "Canned fruit."
"Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches. Pineapples, I can deal with pineapples too. I like the ones shaped like little rings."
"Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly...used to stick my tongue through the hole."
"I beg your pardon?" Nora's eyes were wider than ever.
"The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?"
"No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls. So, Henley, do you live around here?"
"Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I do. Live right down the road at the St. Tammany Apartments."
"NO WAY!" she exclaimed.
"Way."
"I live there - so you can't possibly."
"Why? Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?"
"Too much chocolate milk in one place. Maybe we should lay off of it."
Henley laughed again. Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by the depth of his dimples. He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of years.
He could have been reading her mind. "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind me asking."
"Fifty-four!" Nora exclaimed.
"You're fifty-four? Wow. You look fabulous. I am hitting the chocolate milk again tomorrow."
Nora giggled. "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can. Not bad."
"No, not bad for a can of peas. Ever notice that frozen peas always look a funny shade of green?"
"I'm thirty-eight."
"Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her.
"Very funny. Don't let me forget the coffee."
"Yes, Ma'am." Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice. "I'm thirty-nine."
"Wow. Marvelous. Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of saltines and tossed it into her basket.
"Like you said, there is a God." Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into Aisle Seven.
"I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked. Henley suppressed the urge to complain about the absence of lubrication.
"Fresh Produce!" Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept.
"These red grapes look fabulous! Look how ripe and succulent."
"HEY MISSY! Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!"
Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air.
Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously funny.
"You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there. Looking for a REAL big one?"
"Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-subtly. Or perhaps ever-so-evidently.
"Yes, I believe I am. It's not every day you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed brunette with a chocolate covered butt -- a nice butt, I might add."
"Thank you." It was a royal flush.
"You are beautiful." Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the ground. His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one another's eyes.
Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten.
With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately on the lips. Her ice cream was beginning to melt. Any minute now it would be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear.
Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the most sensible idea in the world. But a rush of adventure had came over her. Grocery store fever.
"Okay," she said seductively. A little too seductively, she thought.
Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight.
"Where are we going?" Nora asked.
"Wanna live life, really live it?"
"Yes, I always have -- what?"
"Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato soup and overripe bananas?"
"Yes, yes!" Nora was becoming another person.
"C'mon!" He led her to the back of the store. The Meat Department.
He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop. No one was back there. It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere. Henley led her through another door.
"How do you know your way around here? Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse rate flying.
"Worked here as a teenager through high school. There is the stock room."
He pulled her into the room and shut the door. It was dark.
Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually. Nora let go and allowed her passion to take over. It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and dangerous. She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley began to unbutton the front of her dress. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue slowly down to her breasts.Nora could feel herself wanting more from him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties. Their breathing became faster and heavier. Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace.
Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartons of chocolate chip cookies and boxes of gingersnaps. Nora's dress fell to the cement floor, as she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley's hungry eyes. The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made her as creamy as a Twinkie.
"Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed.
"Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet thighs. His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his fingers nestled deep inside her love hole. She moaned in ecstasy, then spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would walk in and watch - in all her glory.
"Oh Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her anus with one hand and rubbed her clitoris with the other.
"Henley, oh God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his tongue to dip into the exotic pudding that filled her pastry.
He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy.
"You taste like heaven."
Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth – dripping -- like ice cream on a hot summer day. He relished in it, the icing to his cake.
Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry look, as she frantically unzipped Henley's pants and freed his tortured, hard member.
"Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch. He raised his body to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Mayer Wiener.
Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a popsicle. She sucked him hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as it dribbled everywhere else too. They kissed passionately, tasting each other's delights as though it had been catered just for them.
Click!
They could see the lights under the doorway.
"Hello?" a deep, older voice asked. "Anybody in there?"
Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth. She could feel her heart beating against her chest as she tried not to breathe.
"Hello? Hello?"
After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away. Close call.
They began to giggle. Their moment was gone. Like adolescents they hastily dressed, sneaked out, back to the safety of their grocery carts.
Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car. The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair. The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried.
"Henley?" Nora said.
"Yes?"
"What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right. I got carried away and . . . 'All's well that ends well.'"
He looked deep into her eyes. "Nora, I thought you wanted it."
"Yes, I mean, no.
"What? You can't say it wasn't good."
"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying . . . Hell, I just met you! You're a complete stranger. I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I want to do this right."
"It's okay. I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied.
"Can we start over?"
"Sure," Henley said. "Sure. You are absolutely right. I like you too and I want this to be more than just . . ."
"Sex?" Nora filled in the blank.
"Yeah, but you are sexy, you know. Little Miss Cantaloupes."
"Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner. No more stock room sex, at least not tonight."
"No stock room sex. I promise. It's a deal."
He began to rummage through her shopping bag.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the ground. Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants.
"We are starting from the beginning, Miss."
"No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle.
"No use crying," he repeated.
"Hi, I'm Nora." She reached out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Henley." He lightly kissed it.
"Nice to meet you," Nora said. "Very nice to meet you."
They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst out laughing.
"That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled. "The stock room? Did you really work in the stock room?"
Henley laughed. "Why yes, I did, Honey! I thought it was rather exciting! "But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!"
"Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!" Nora chimed as she got into the passenger's side of their car.
Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side.
They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands, and smiling. As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could hear an announcement on the supermarket's intercom system.
"Clean up on Aisle Two." |
7,957 | Mysterious Bride Of Christ | "I shall spank every girl in this class. Every single one of you, unless I hear a full confession from whoever was responsible for this disgusting offense," Sister Rose tells the cowering girls. They stare back wide-eyed. It's a mixture of fear, defiance, anger, and shame she's seeing. The nun is a notorious sadist, and they don't doubt for a minute that she will inflict such a punishment on them all if someone does not admit the deed soon.
Sister Rose is in her thirties and seems very old to the sixteen-year-olds. Unlike many of the others here, she's Irish, with a warm brogue, but a fearsome manner when crossed. Tall and big-boned, with short, reddish hair, ruddy cheeks. When she ventures into town, men stare. They find her attractive, but of course know that they must not harbor such thoughts.
She's very angry today. Who could it have been? Who has been responsible for placing a pair of fragrant, wet cotton knickers in the parcel of offerings to the Cardinal, before his pilgrimage to Rome? Labeled "Put your sticky finger in here, instead of up boys' arses, you old bugger," and signed: "The Fuckslut Bride Of Christ/Randy Wendy The Cunty-Drawed Shagger."
Not Wendy. There isn't one in the class, never has been. Oh, they are standard issue school uniform knickers. From Marks and Sparks, St. Margaret's plainest and cheapest. Even the size didn't help -- most of the girls in 3F are of similar build. Even the large Mary could not be ruled out: she could have stolen someone else's and messed them up, after all. The telltale laundry tags have been snipped off, and all that Sister Rose and the other investigators have to go on is the evidence of the slightly worn knickers themselves. With their failing elastic and a dingy tone. A yellowish stain at the crotch, and a distinctive scent.
Sister Rose has contemplated borrowing a police dog and matching girls and smells. But has decided not to go that way at first. Whatever little slut it was would probably delight in this, and the humiliation it would bring all the others, as a lolling-tongued dog nosed them intimately. No, she resolves, if all else fails we'll resort to that, or some other scientific method. But first, we'll try the proven technique of the paddle, cane, and tawse.
"Miss, I mean Sister, it wasn't me," says Pam, the class 'good girl,' par excellence.
"Who was it then?"
"I don't know."
"But Pamela, you know everything. Maybe a few strokes will remind you. Step forward, girl."
The thought of seeing such a good girl punished makes the others nervous. Now they harbor no doubts that Sister Rose would spank them all if she must.
"Hold out your hands," Sister Rose commands.
Pam stretches them both out, palms upward. The tawse is picked up. The room is silent but for Pam's labored, open-mouthed breathing. Down it comes, hard, three times on each hand. Pam gasps.
"Turn them over," she is ordered. A wooden ruler is brandished. Five strokes across the knuckles of each hand. Loud blows the echo round the room. Several girls look faint, there are gasps of sympathy. But Sister Rose hasn't finished. "Now, bend over, young woman."
Pam lifts her skirt, bends over the chair that has been placed in front of her. Sister Rose picks up her leather paddle. She grasps the fabric of Pam's knickers and pulls them down to her knees. Her white buttocks seem huge, vulnerable, mysterious, appealing, in the brightly sunlit classroom. Outside, a game of hockey is underway, birds are singing. Here, a girl is going to be spanked, hard. The blows seem as loud as pistol shots. Not just six. No, a dozen strokes before Sister Rose relents. There are tears in her eyes when she stands up afterwards and hobbles away.
"Sister, it was Cecilia. I know it!" says Sandra, a sneaky girl, a refugee from the North.
"You lying bitch!" Cecilia shrieks, leaping forward. Others hold them apart as they spit and bristle at each other, mouthing insults.
"Quiet, the pair of you!" Sister Rose shouts. "Cecilia, is this true?"
"No!"
"Really? Step forward and bend over. We'll see, shall we?"
Another vicious paddling. Sneaky Sandra is next, to everyone's satisfaction, and Cecilia's particular delight.
There are twelve girls left. One by one, they are brutally paddled. Now, Sister Rose has a plan. Each is asked to remove her knickers before the paddling. And the knickers are labeled and hung on hooks on the class noticeboard.
"Who has a good sense of smell?" Sister Rose asks the tearful group. No volunteers. She motions to Pam, who is sniffling the least by now. She produces the offending 'Bride' knickers and says: "Smell these, and then sniff all of these drawers and see if you can identify the owner."
It's done, though Pam would make a poor bloodhound. She lacks the leg-humping enthusiasm a dog would put into this. And she's quite indecisive. "I...I don't know. Please, I really don't. It's disgusting. It could be any of them, really. Just a couple seem more likely, but, oh, I can't say for sure."
"That's good enough for me, Pam. Which?"
"Well," she hesitates. "This pair, and this one here. Oh, and these are very smelly."
Sister Rose snorts as she reads the labels. "Sandra, Jane and haha, your own, Pam."
There's widespread relief, a couple of angry protests, and giggles of laughter at Pam's shriek of disbelief.
"Step forward, you three. We'll investigate a little more, shall we?"
The trio nervously cluster together. "Skirts off. Bare from the waist down, girls."
The display of chubby thighs, round bottoms, flat stomachs, and tiny pubic triangles is delightful. But Sister Rose tries not to show her secret enjoyment of it.
"I need another volunteer."
No one wants to play along now. Sister Rose points to the wrongfully accused Cecilia. "You, then. Sniff these dirty knickers. Deep breath. Come on, so you can almost taste it. It's not that unfamiliar to you, is it? Now, you three, legs apart, hands on your heads. Down on your knees, Cecilia, and tell us who it is, girl."
Cecilia shakes her head miserably. "I can't tell, really can't," she says after sniffing each girl two or three times.
"Liar. We'll take the tawse to your backside for that, girl. Lift your skirt." And she does, not even letting Cecilia up from her knees. Then she picks on another pupil, Diane, and says, "Right. You sniff the ones on the board and we'll pick out some more possible girls, then."
The afternoon passes slowly. But, step by step, Sister Rose is seeking a consensus. Taking notes. Observing the girls' behavior for clues. For evidence of sexual misconduct for later use. For signs of lesbian tendencies. She is a wily one, Sister Rose. Who has seduced countless pupils over the years. Right now, she's without a love interest, but she will address that little problem soon. Today, she's aching to punish and humiliate, another pleasure she takes very seriously.
The endless sampling and sniffing continues. And eventually it's done. There are four candidates now, with far more votes: Pam, Cecilia, Diane, and Sandra. Girls whose penance calendars are going to be busy from now on this term, whatever the outcome here. Girls with dirty knickers are always the first to suffer.
Sister Rose announces: "If I don't hear a confession now, I'm going to have to be much stricter."
There's nervousness, whispering. Each of the suspect girls has had at least two dozen strokes already. "Meaning, you'll all be soundly beaten, you four."
"Please, Sister, it wasn't me," Pam pleads.
"None of us!" Cecilia says, sobbing.
"How do you know? Unless you know who it really was, and you're protecting her?" Sister Rose mocks.
They fall silent.
Sister Rose nods, pursing her lips. "Very well. Out of your clothes, all of you. Every stitch. It's the strap for you, and then the senior cane."
"No!" A communal moan of disbelief.
"Yes. This was a filthy blasphemy. What if these filthy clothes had made the pilgrimage, been presented with other offerings to our Holy Father? Can you imagine the shame that would descend on our school?" She glares at them. "We would have burned you at the stake in the seventeenth century, you know."
"We wouldn't have had knickers to wear then," someone murmurs.
"Who was that? Ah, you, Amy. Well then, step up here too, and strip off your clothes as well."
The girl with the smart mouth is regretting it already.
"Someone, confess, please!" Pam pleads. "It wasn't me! It wasn't!""Yes, for your soul, for your friends, be honest," Sandra joins in. "I understand it must have seemed funny, but..."
"What will you do to the girl when you find her?" Amy asks nervously.
"Take her to the Mother Superior and recommend that she is given a suitable penance. One to remember."
Silence.
"Thirty days of prayer. Fasting during daylight. Loss of clothing privileges. Confinement to a penance cell with no bed, just a blanket on the floor. Regular cold showers. And probably a daily birching. Not so bad really," Sister Rose recites. "Of course, Mother Superior may be more lenient." She smiles thinly. "If it were me, I'd add a vigorous caning by her classmates for being a disgrace to them all, and for bringing them all such pain."
Some nod at this. There's a long silence. Sister Rose examines the strap thoughtfully. She's contemplating whether to summon help; her arm is a little tired.
Then, Hillary raises her hand nervously. "It was me."
A small, dark-haired girl. The class mouse, in many ways. Good at geography and math, terrible at languages. Bottom of the class in Gaelic. Resentful of many school rules. Oh, how had they failed to guess? It was so obvious. The other girls recoil from her, as if she has leprosy.
Sister Rose dashes forward, seizes her wrist, slaps her face hard, several times. Then grabs at her hair. She shakes her hard. "You vile girl," she shrills.
"It was just a joke. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," the girl pleads.
"A joke? I'll show you a joke! Strip, you bitch. Get out of my sight, the rest of you. Go take a shower you three, you stink."
The girls jostle to leave the room, pulling their clothes on as they go. Sister Rose tells Hillary, as she slithers out of her uniform: "Oh, I'm going to show you what happens to dirty, dirty girls. You'll get the punishment of a lifetime. Trust me."
Hillary is taken to Mother Superior's office. Her nude body already marked with several vicious welts. Thighs, breasts, buttocks. Sister Rose has dragged her here, lashing her with the heavy strap. Girls in the corridors averted their eyes in shock at the sight of a naked girl being roughly hauled along. It's not a regular event, and it's best not to know about these things.
The saintly old woman listens with barely controlled anger to Sister Rose's story, and Hillary's tearful confession. She prays for a minute or two, then says quietly: "Lock her away. We'll decide later."
Back at the classroom, the girls are in turmoil. Who'd have guessed? While the idea of caning Hillary has appeal to one or two of the more vindictive ones, they've been shouted down. Most are sad to see her found out. She's an unhappy girl, a strange one. Maybe if they'd been friendlier, known her better, it wouldn't have happened. They agree to send a delegation to plead for mercy.
They're kept waiting for a half hour. Then ushered in to the Mother Superior's bleak room. She listens silently to their pleas, and carefully phrased, circumspect comments about how brutal Sister Rose has been to the whole class.
Finally, she speaks: "Yes, children. I understand your concern. There have been excesses here, and overzealous punishments. But this was an evil, wicked crime. I think, on balance that Sister Rose was diligent in her investigation. Ingenious, even. I regret that she shamed some of you. And for that, I will ask that she apologizes to you individually, and begs your forgiveness. But remember it is better to shame the body, and hurt the flesh, than to suffer evil to dwell in a young woman's heart. And as for young Hillary, I fear that expulsion from the school will suffice."
After they leave, grateful for this display of clemency, Mother Superior smiles quietly to herself. She has Hillary's record folder on her desk now. Divorced parents. Of course. Father, an oil exploration type. Working for some American company in Azerbaijan. And the mother? At Citibank in Singapore. Remarried to some heathen Chinese. Well, they won't interfere with us. Oh, we'll expel her alright, she thinks. In three weeks or so, at the end of the month. At midnight. But we'll clean up her locker and pack her things today. They'll think she's gone already, without a goodbye. But until then, she can be punished, as she deserves. The way Sister Rose has pleaded for, so eloquently.
The birching sounds a good place to begin. Head to toe, until she's raw. If she faints, we'll revive her with an icy cold bath and carry on. She must suffer. There's no two ways about it. And we'll birch her more than once, oh yes.
And we'll use some of the novitiates to cane her. They're older and stronger than her classmates. First though, I want to know she has suffered a little. Suffer in those parts where her devilry originates. We'll singe and pluck the hair from that filthy slit of hers. Shave it as smooth as a baby girl's. We'll scourge and scrub and scour and mistreat it. With hot wax, pins and pliers. And she'll get the bridal initiation she deserves. If she's a virgin now --which I doubt -- she won't be by the end of today. No. She is possessed by some demon, so we'll exorcise it. She's been Satan's bride, and that's what made her commit this blasphemy. It's simple science.
She summons Sister Rose. "I have given this great thought, Rose dear. The matter of Hillary, that is."
"Yes, Mother?"
"You are right. She must be purified. And it won't be easy. Take her to the cellars, and do what you must. Severity is called for. The various things you recommend here," she points to the folder. "Spare her nothing." |
8,013 | Fit for Anything | "Can I please get dressed now?" he whispered.
Ignoring him, I turned to Nurse Crisp and gave her the details of Nigel's first exercise session - to commence immediately.
She was to take him to the exercise room, dress him in a rubber slimming suit, and supervise a one-hour session on the rowing machine, after which he could have a light lunch of lemon juice, salad, and dry slimming biscuits.
When I was sure that Nurse Crisp understood the regime I had decided upon for Nigel, I turned back to see that he was standing with his hands over his genitals.
"Nurse, a gown for Nigel, we wouldn't want him to catch cold."
Nurse Crisp picked up Nigel's clothes and left the room. We always confiscate their clothes to ensure no lapse in the dietary regulation. Otherwise, some of the patients would be sneaking out for snacks.
I returned to my desk and checked the file of the next patient while we waited for Nurse Crisp to return. She was an unconscionably long time, perhaps we were again short of freshly laundered gowns.
Nigel seemed ill at ease, subdued even, apparently concentrating on something at his feet as I surveyed him once again.
Nigel eagerly took the garment when Nurse Crisp eventually returned, and quickly slipped it on. I stood and tied the ribbons at the back as he was having some difficulty with them.
"Send in the next client on your way through, thank you Nurse."
They left, Nigel following Nurse Crisp, like an obedient little puppy.
I was adjusting an errant seam on my stocking and checking the suspender fastening when I discovered the next overweight executive standing, gawking, in the doorway.
"Ah... Bernard, isn't it? Come in and strip!" |
6,960 | After The Tournament. Part II | "Are you threatening me, you perverted little bitch?" Frank snarled aloud and punched Sandy in her naked belly. She doubled over, gasping in pain.
Seeing the look of pain in Sandy's face made Frank feel better and guilty as hell at the same time. Unable to control his tumultuous emotions, he smashed his fist into her face. Sandy tumbled backward onto the floor.
"You lousy bastard!" Sandy yelled, nearly crying. Her negligee had fallen open and her beautiful, sexy body was fully exposed.
Frank jumped on Sandy and straddled her chest. He punched her twice more in the face. Sandy was almost unconscious. Frank noticed his huge penis was hard. He rose to his knees, parted Sandy's plump muscled thighs, and drove into her with vengeful excitement.
"You want to fight me, Baby? You got it!" Frank snarled in his wife's face.
Sandy couldn't do anything but lie there and take it. Being punched in the face and raped wasn't what she'd been dreaming about a few minutes before, but Frank's sudden brutality overwhelmed her. She found herself almost as excited as her furious husband. They both came furiously together.
Frank fell across Sandy's body and lay there exhausted. Sandy's ring victory had taken a lot out of him, and his usual stamina was sorely depleted. Sandy had recovered from his punches and she was furious.
"O.K. Bastard, if that's how you want it!" Sandy muttered and grabbed Frank's sore ears, just as she had during the match. Lifting his head from where it lolled against her sumptuous bosom, Sandy smashed her forehead against Frank's mouth and nose.
Frank saw stars and Sandy slid her legs around his waist. With a sudden thrusting grip, she locked her ankles behind his back. Stunned and hurt, Frank reared his head up. As he did, Sandy smashed her forehead into his chin, and then into his jaw.
"You bitch, what are you doing?" Frank roared. Sandy stifled his roars by tightening her powerful thighs, until Frank groaned at the pressure. She rolled him off her and rolled on top of his right arm, trapping it beneath her body. At the same time, she locked her hands together under his chin and pushed his head back as far as it would go.
Frank beat ineffectually at Sandy's arm and shoulder with his left hand, but her head was shielded by her arms, and he couldn't do anything to break her grip. His back and belly still ached from the beating the gorgeous blond had given him that afternoon, and now she was squeezing his trunk like a tube of toothpaste.
"Lemme go! Goddam you!" Frank yelled, furious, but unable to get at the fierce blond.
"Make me, wimp!" Sandy sneered, and bent Frank's head back further, and squeezed her dynamic legs tighter. She pressed her face against his hairy chest and sank her sharp, white teeth into his powerfully developed pectoral muscle. Her teeth sliced into his nipple, drawing blood.
Frank shrieked in pain "You filthy bitch... awwwwrrrrrrr... Stop it, let go! Leggo, leggo!"
Sandy snarled through teeth clenched tightly in Frank's flesh. "I'll let you go when I get damn good and ready, you dirty, lousy, little pansy!" Sandy felt her husband's big muscular body start to go limp. She loosened her legs and pushed him over on his back. She crouched astride his middle. Before letting his chest go, she bit down as hard as she could; then she sat up. Frank's head was still bent backward at an angle, and Sandy karate chopped him across the throat.
Frank thrashed around trying to throw Sandy off. She'd drained a lot of his strength, and he might be unskilled at wrestling, but he was still a formidable athlete. It wasn't easy to pin him. Before he could dislodge her, Sandy stood up.
As she stepped off her husband, Sandy stamped her high-heeled foot into his belly. Frank's body jackknifed. The hard-looking, washboard of muscles felt all squishy to Sandy. She could feel the tingle all the way up her thigh. She smiled at the damage she was doing.
"Stupid jerk, he deserves everything he gets!" Sandy smiled complacently.
"Get up and take your punishment like a man! Even if you can't act like one!" Sandy sneered.
Sandy's contempt was another blow to Frank's damaged manhood. "Lousy bitch!" He almost wept. He rolled over on his hands and knees, trying to scrabble to his feet. Sandy's leg flashed to kick his hard muscular behind.
Frank sailed forward on his face. Sandy leaped at him and knee-dropped into the small of Frank's back. She'd already strained and hurt it badly that afternoon. Frank screamed at the sharp renewal of agonizing pain.
Sandy was totally indifferent to Frank's suffering now. She grabbed his big muscular arm and twisted it behind him in a hammer lock. She pushed him up on his feet, held his arm tight with one hand, and plowed her free fist into his kidneys.
After half a dozen kidney punches, Sandy let Frank's arm go and spun him around. She smiled at the look of sick shock in his face and plowed her fist into his weakened belly, well below the belt-line. Frank croaked as the air whooshed from his lungs. He doubled over clutching his abdomen, but he couldn't ease the terrible cramps.
Doubled over, Frank's face made a tempting target. Sandy slapped him as hard as she possibly could, putting all her strong, supple, back muscles into it. Frank's head snapped to the side, and Sandy backhanded the other side of his face just as hard.
Frank's knees buckled, and he pitched forward. Sandy caught him under the armpits and straightened him up. She drove her knee up between his legs, stopping just short of crushing his scrotum. She laughed at the cringing fear in his pain-bleared eyes. She slid her arms around his waist and locked them in the middle of his back.
Sandy crushed Frank's near-helpless body against her vibrant nudity. She worked her powerful arms up and down his body. Her softer, girlish body was too much for Frank to resist. Her padded, feminine belly pulverized his muscled abdomen, and her pillowy boobs mashed his herculean chest.
For Frank, it seemed like a nightmare, except the pain was so awfully real. He couldn't escape Sandy's bearhug; it took all his fast-dwindling strength just to suck air into his tortured lungs in choked little sobs. Sandy exultantly drained the last bit of strength from her husband's muscular body. Frank's eyes glazed, and he went limp in Sandy's arms.
Sandy contemptuously threw her husband away from her. Frank stumbled a couple of steps and fell against the wall. He clung to it for support. He was so dizzy the room was spinning around. He was dimly aware of his beautiful wife coming at him menacingly again.
Frank couldn't face Sandy's wrath again, just yet. He lurched away and stumbled back into the bathroom. He slammed the door and fumbled with the lock in nervous fear.
"Christ!" Frank thought. "I've got to get it together. Sandy is killing me."
As he tried to lock the door, Sandy twisted the knob and slammed her sturdy body against it.
"You miserable, gutless wimp, come out here and fight like a man; even if you can't fight like a woman." Sandy screamed.
Frank lost his grip on the doorknob, and the door banged open. Sandy stood there with her hands on her swelling hips.
"We're not finished yet!" She announced coldly. "I can't believe I'm married to a gutless little wimp, who hides in the bathroom, so his wife can't beat him up." She sneered.
Sandy's sneers goaded Frank to renewed fury. He flung himself at her; his greater weight shoving her back out the door into the bedroom. His momentum bowled her over, and she landed on her plump behind.
Sandy wasn't taken wholly off guard. When Frank came down on top of her, she jammed her foot in his belly. She somersaulted him over onto his back. Sandy flipped to her feet. Frank was still on the floor struggling to get up. Sandy grabbed his left arm with both hands. She bent Frank's muscular arm straight out from his side and drove her toe into his armpit several times. His arm shivered in pain, and Sandy dropped it twitching to the floor. She stamped her foot, with her full weight behind it, down on his heaving chest.
Still in a raging fury, Frank whirled around and swung a roundhouse left at his wife's beautiful face. She just ducked in time. Crouching low, Sandy counter-attacked Frank's belly with her own hard little fists. A flurry of punches belted into his middle, doubling Frank over. Frank smashed his fist into Sandy's right boob, squashing it painfully against her chest. The punch knocked Sandy back a step.
"Bastard!" Sandy moaned. She just managed to block a left uppercut to her jaw, but a straight right drilled into her abdomen.The svelte blonde beauty staggered, but her firm belly muscles didn't cave in the way Frank's had a moment before. Sandy staggered though and let her guard down, and Frank's left crashed into the side of her head.
Sandy staggered backward. Frank followed, in a boxing stance. He looked a little more confident, but the punch to Sandy's head had stung his fist up to the elbow. He drilled another left into Sandy's large, right breast. The beautiful blonde gasped in pain, but her raised fists didn't waver.
When Frank repeated the punch, Sandy bobbed aside and retaliated with a hard left to his jaw. Frank's head snapped sideways, but he followed up with a right. Sandy ducked her head, and his fist hit squarely on the top of her head. Again he felt the pain in his bare knuckles. He threw another left at her nose. Sandy ducked her head again, and Frank's fist bounced off her forehead. Sandy's head ached, but Frank's knuckles were scraped and red from her bony forehead.
Sandy hit back with a quick left jab to Frank's cheek, then a right to his jaw. Despite his pained expression, Frank's right flashed toward her face. Sandy turned her head just enough so his fist glanced off her cheekbone. They traded several more punches. Sandy's head was knocked this way and that.
Sandy was groggy and seeing stars, and Frank's bare fists were swollen and bleeding. He winced each time he landed a punch. Frank knew that if he had hit anyone like that yesterday, man or woman, they'd be out cold. Sandy foggily knew it too; she should be stretched out unconscious by now. It encouraged her to know she'd sapped so much of Frank's vitality.
Sandy noticed how Frank hesitated now before each punch. She must capitalize on that hesitation. She concentrated hard to gather her wits, and when Frank paused, slammed a right uppercut to the point of his chin. Frank staggered back a step, seeing stars himself. Frank realized his foxy wife, though not a skilled boxer, had evened things up pretty effectively.
Cursing the pain in his knuckles, Frank shifted his attack. He slammed his fist into Sandy's taut belly again, and followed with one to her large, vulnerable-looking breasts. His blows had lost some steam though, and Sandy rode out the pain in her gut. She guarded her belly closer, and left her breasts unguarded. Punches to her large, absorbent breasts hurt like hell, but didn't seem to do any lasting damage.
Frank shied away from punching Sandy's hard head with his sore, bleeding knuckles, and she was effectively guarding her firm belly. The only target left was to punch his wife's large, sumptuous breasts. He knocked the huge globes all over her chest. The pain cleared the fog from Sandy's mind. She gritted her teeth, and retaliated with hard rights and lefts to Frank's face, whenever there was an opening. Her hands were sore and bruised too, but she just didn't give a damn.
After a few moments of this exchange, Sandy noticed that Frank's punches hurt less. There were fewer of them too, and a lot more openings to his face. Sandy saw Frank's eyes glaze over, after one particularly hard, straight right to his chin. Her left smashed straight into his nose and he hollered in pain.
Sandy stepped in close and drilled rights and lefts into Frank's lower belly. She drove him back in a crouch. Her husband's impressive abdomen was still sore and strained from her earlier attacks, and Sandy's punches took his breath away. He gulped for air, and dropped his guard to protect his vulnerable middle. Instantly Sandy blasted more rights and lefts into his exposed face.
Frank stumbled and almost fell. While he tried to get his balance, Sandy stepped in close and blasted her knee up into his aching belly. She followed with a left to Frank's jaw, and a beautiful right uppercut to his chin.
Sandy watched her big, powerful husband start to topple. She lowered her head and butted him in the gut. Her hard head drilled into his softened up middle and nailed his back to the wall. As Frank slid down the wall, Sandy mercilessly pounded his face and chest.
The next thing Frank noticed, he was sitting helplessly against the wall. His eyes were unfocused and his ears ringing. He braced his arms back against the wall and tried to raise himself, but fell down again. Sandy was leaning against the wall, ready to drop herself. Her head throbbed, her huge breasts were bruised and pulsing with pain, and she was panting as hard as Frank.
Hurting though she was, one thought filled Sandy with a heady feeling of ecstasy. Frank was tough and had boxed a little in college. Yet, she had stood toe to toe with her massively-built husband, slugging it out on equal terms, until she had beaten him to the floor. |
6,977 | Moon Part III | "Get out of here." The words were spoken coldly, emotionless, forcing their way out between the lips of Janet's mother. The door slammed shut- "You two sluts get out of my house!" Moon and Janet separated their naked bodies in a rush, their minds racing, dressing as quickly as they could. They were both cold with shock, and Janet started to cry, the shock of it hitting her like a ton of bricks.
"Mom-"
"I don't want to hear it- you know I don't like your goddamn bisexual shit, and now I catch you fucking that slut in my house! Get the FUCK out of here!" Janet's mother was yelling, banging against the walls and throwing objects in a tantrum. Janet and Moon heard glass shatter against the door of Janet's room, and Moon shivered in fear. Janet's face was white.
"We've been going out for a long time, Mom- we haven't been just fucking--" Janet's words came out in short shrieks of sobs, and Moon was crying too. They were dressed now, and Janet was getting furious at her mother's prejudice, throwing her closet doors open and tossing her favorite clothes on her bed.
"I SAID I DONT FUCKING WANT TO HEAR IT! GET THE FUCK OUT!"
"FUCK YOU!"
Janet was surprised by the severity of her words, but she knew she meant every word as she started to throw clothes into her backpack. She took some makeup- concealer, eyeliner and lip gloss- and tore the pictures hanging on the walls, tossing them angrily into her backpack. Moon was standing helplessly, her beautiful face contorted in pain and anger. She was gathering up Janet's belongings and stuffing them into her backpack, too, knowing what Janet liked the best from their long friendship. Finally, Janet threw her black lipstick on top of the whole pile, and tenderly put her small stuffed puppy in the front pouch of the bag. She took a thick wad of money from the top drawer of her dresser, and shoved it down her front jeans pocket.
Janet's mother was in her bedroom now, still screaming and yelling in hysterics. Janet's father was woken by the noise, and he could be heard trying to calm down Janet's mother. There was another loud shattering of glass, and a few minutes later, Janet's father opened Janet's door.
"Honey, you know your mom doesn't mean it, she's just upset-" his face was tearful.
"I love you, dad, but I'm getting the fuck out of this twisted household.." Janet said bitterly, tearfully, hugging her father and walking out of the bedroom- heading to the front door. Moon looked at Janet's father pitifully, saying in a small, mousy voice-
"I didn't mean to cause trouble, sir.."
The face of Janet's father was sad, and he gave a tight smile before he turned and walked away. Moon ran to catch up with Janet, and got into Janet's car just as the tires of the 1989 Ford Probe squealed out of the driveway. They were alone in the cold night.
"Hon.." Moon said softly, and Janet was hiccuping with sobs. "Let's go to my house.. we can get cleaned up and calm you down.."
"YOUR mother didn't give you this kind of shit." Janet was gasping between words, and was indeed trying to calm herself down unsuccessfully.
"My mom was married to a woman for 11 years.."
Janet was silent with surprise.
"You know my aunt?"
Janet nodded. Moon went to visit her aunt every few weekends, staying with her. Janet used to joke about how her aunt had joint custody of Moon due to the frequency of her visits.
"Well, she's not really my aunt. She's my mom's ex-wife.. She raised me with mom until she was about 8 years old."
Janet was quiet, concentrating on the dark streets of the city, paying no homage to the stop signs or speed limits. In a city that never slept, it was 3am, and everyone was at home asleep. Or having sex. Janet didn't particularly care at this moment. She sighed, and her sigh was caught in a choking sob. She flicked on her turn signal, beginning the trek to Moon's house.
"I'm sorry.." Moon sighed quietly, and wiped a tear away from her cheek. She reached out for Janet's hand, and squeezed the clammy fingers.
"It's not your fault. You know what happened when she found out I was bisexual," Janet said quietly.
"No, I don't."
"Well.. this girl came over to my house when I was about 14. And we started to flirt a little, and we kissed a little. We were trying to piss her boyfriend off. Anyway.. she was in my lap, and I was cuddling her, when mom came to the basement and saw us. Well, she didn't say anything then, but when I talked to her later, she called her a slut. She called me a slut. She said that bisexual people were only sluts that didn't give a flying fuck who went into what hole."
"Ah, Janet, I'm sorry.." Moon's tone was sympathetic.
"Stop saying that!" Janet snapped, then softened. "Sorry.. none of it's your fault.
Anyway.. she was in my room. There was this stereo that I had just bought, for about 125 dollars, and she picked it up and threw it at my head. It broke. I still have some pieces. She threw all my CD's, and tapes at me.. smashed most of them beyond recognition."
Moon was silent for the rest of the ride to her home.
Janet pulled the vehicle in Moon's driveway, and parked it. They both got out, and pulled their backpacks out with them. A light in the small trailer flicked on, and a face appeared in the window. Moon's mother, Jenny- her face was surprised at her daughter's girlfriend and her daughter coming home at 3:30 in the morning.
They were greeted at the door by Jenny's waiting sentence- "what happened?" The look on both of these girls was woeful, and Janet was still sniffling and crying. Jenny ushered them inside, dressed only in a T-shirt in the cold trailer.
"We had a little ... falling out with Janet's mother." The sentence was as blunt as a hot knife slicing through butter, and Jenny's face went wide with concern. Janet said nothing, and dropped her bag onto the floor of the tiny living room.
"Did she find out?"
"She came in when we were doing it," Moon said quietly, matter-of-fact.
Jenny sighed. This sentence, if uttered to Janet's mother, would have evoked a horrific, beast-like response. However, Moon's mother was incredibly liberal (too liberal- Moon had to raise her younger sister practically by herself), and in fact supported their relationship. That's the way she was at, at their age. Janet collapsed on a couch, weary. The last hour had felt like 50. Moon opened the fridge door and handed Jenny and Janet both beers, opening one for herself with a sizzle.
"And well," Moon continued, "She said for both of us sluts to get out of her house.. So I guess.. Well.. I don't know what's gonna happen now."
Moon's face was tense, serious, and she lifted her beer and swallowed a quarter of the can in a gulp. Janet followed suit, and Jenny sipped the beer quietly. Moon sat next to Janet, pulling her close, holding her. Janet's body was rigid and numb with shock.
"Wonder if she wants me back." The sentence was more of a statement than a question, and she was shaking her head as she said it. Neither Moon nor Jenny offered their opinion. Janet finished drinking her beer, holding the cold can in her cold fingers. She reached over and took Moon's beer, draining the rest in a few minutes.
"Well you know you can stay as long as you want to, Hun- any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine.." Jenny offered quietly. Janet nodded. "I'm tired.."
"You want to go to bed?" Jenny asked gently. Janet nodded, and Moon nodded too. She reached up her hand and gently wiped another tear off of Janet's cheek. Janet's expression was cold now, and numb.
"What's going on?" Moon's brother, awakened by the noises, had snuck into the living room.
"Go to bed!" Moon growled at Rob, and he made a face at her, starting to leave before he noticed the beer. "HEY!"Mom, if she gets to have beer-"
"She's got 4 years before she's legal, and you've got 11." The sentence was tired and well-worn from Jenny's mouth. Rob gave an "Aw!" and left.
Jenny stood up and said, "I'm going to go check on Angel and go back to bed. Holler at me if you need anything." She left the room. Janet watched her leave, then stood up. She went to the pantry, pulled out a vodka bottle wordlessly, and walked to Moon's room. Moon followed silently.
"When you're Russian, drink as the Russians do..." Janet gave a weak smile as she took a healthy gulp and laid down on Moon's bed, head supported by a posturpedic pillow. Fire raced through Janet's throat in the comforting way it did anytime Janet felt unhappy, and Janet reveled in the feeling.
Moon took a drink from Janet's flask and undressed for bed. She put on a long shirt that reached to her mid-thigh and crawled tiredly underneath the covers. Janet slumped her shoulders as she sighed, took another swig. She sat up for a few minutes, taking a few shot's worth of vodka quickly and easily before she set the bottle on the floor to take off her pants and shirt. She got underneath the covers with Moon and placed her cold feet on Moon's calf.
"HEY!" Moon laughed, pulling away. Janet grinned, stuck her feet between Moon's thighs, and held Moon as she squealed. When her feet were warm, she released Moon's arms and turned on her side. Moon snuggled close to Janet, spooning her small body tightly, and put her arms around Janet's small waist, pulling her close. Janet pushed her body back slightly to cuddle against Moon. Moon pushed Janet's hair away from her neck and kissed the back of Janet's neck comfortingly. Moon murmured softly, "I love you," and Janet took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Janet was held by Moon until she drifted into a slightly drunken sleep, her rest that night plagued with nightmares and sweat.
to be continued... |
7,344 | Shields | "Shields down to 5 percent, commander," screamed the Weapons officer.
"Engine room, divert more power to the shields."
"I'm sorry, Commander. The inversion chamber has been damaged. I don't think Aaaaaaaaaaaargh...."
There was a crash, and the ship shook and tumbled through the sky like a leaf before the inertial stabilizer dampers kicked back online.
"Engine room, damage report? Where are you, Sneed?"
The voice sounded faint. "He's dead, sir. They're all dead. We're all going to die."
Danajane was terrified. What had she done to deserve this? She was a scientist, not a fighter - a very junior geological mapper, and this was her first tour of duty. This was supposed to be a simple surveying expedition, mapping out the geology of a promising-looking planet which, hopefully, could be used to provide much-needed colonization space for a burgeoning human population. Then came the signal for them to return to Station Theta. The peace talks with the Morgons had broken down, and rumor had it that their 6th battlefleet was in this quadrant.
So they had dropped their survey probes and hightailed it. They were only two light-years away from the station when, one by one, the entire Morgon battlefleet had materialized. In front of them, behind them, around them. They had fought the good fight, but were hopelessly outgunned by the strato-destroyers.
Suddenly, there was a huge crash and a rolling wave of flames as the doors disintegrated under the rays of the Morgon firethrowers. Danajane clasped her hands over her head and sank to the floor, screaming, as the battle raged around her.
"How many prisoners?"
"One?"
Harkass raised his left mandible. "Just one?"
"They fought hard, Sir, and there were no other females on board."
"Bring her to me," Harkass snapped.
She was paraded, shaking and terrified, in front of him. He looked down at her and then buzzed closer. She had a small, compact body, with a fresh, radiant beauty. A fresh peach at the peak of perfection. But to his eyes, she was puny and weak and would be hard-pressed to withstand the rigors of her forthcoming servitude.
"So, little one, what is your name?"
All she could hear was a series of grunts, whistles, and pops, none of which were very intelligible.
"I'm a scientist, not a fighter. Please don't hurt me."
"Get the translation phones, Skark. How these puny creatures ever hope to colonize space when they can't even perform simple translations is beyond me."
They placed the phones on her head. They were a bit awkward, as they had been designed for races with three ear cavities, but they sufficed.
"Who are you?" Karkass asked again.
"My name is Danajane, and I am a scientist from the survey vessel..."
"SILENCE. I am not interested in where you are from, just what you are. Are you a virgin?"
"What? Er, I, er, why do you want to know?"
Missilwhips are very effective. Designed for herding the stubborn, thick-skinned, and tempestuous missilcows, they proved devastating across the backside of a stubborn little human female. Danajane screamed piteously as the formic acid from the million little needles punctured her flesh. It was like being stung by a thousand jellyfish at once.
"I am getting angry. Now, are you a virgin?"
"Yes," she whimpered.
A collective sigh went up over the amorphous blob that formed the bridge crew of the Morgon destroyer.
"Strip her."
"No, please," screamed Danajane, fearing the worst, even though she knew that Morgons bred by osmosis. A single, controlled shot from the firethrower burned her clothes off, without so much as singeing a single hair on her body.
Harkass gazed at her nearly nude crotch. Most of the female captives had thickets of hair down there, but now he had one with just a small clump of fiery red tufts to match the blaze of her head. Fire red, it seemed appropriate somehow.
This one can be the new bridge shield. He was looking forward to thinking about her when he engaged the puny galactic fleet they had dispatched against him.
"Bridge forward one position," shouted Harkass.
A cloud of pink gas descended on her and bore her away.
The other females looked exhausted. They hung in their harnesses, covered in sweat and gasping for air.
Danajane was quickly maneuvered into position to match that of the other females in the long, dismal corridor. Her arms were strapped onto poles that stuck out from the clammy wall of the ship, and her backside was positioned on a U-shaped seat. Then her legs were bent down and strapped at the thigh, knee, and ankle, leaving her spread wide in humiliating shame. A tube was positioned just in front of her mouth. They then spent some time lining up a bulky-looking machine over her body. Finally, they strapped her waist firmly to the side of the ship. The pink cloud dissipated, and she hung in her straps.
One by one, the dazed women regained their composure. Then the one opposite raised her head and regarded Danajane.
"So you are the result of the fight, hey?"
"Yes, I'm Danajane. What are you - er, we all - doing here?"
"I am Firstgun Top, formally known as Seethmantrica. What is your position?"
"What do you mean?"
"What did they say before you were brought down here?"
"Er, 'Bridge forward one position,' I think."
"So you will be a busy girl. A very busy girl. You are not a virgin, are you?"
Danajane blushed. "Er, yes. Why does everyone want to know?"
One of the other women laughed, a bitter, ironic cackle. "It is Harkass's Joke, putting a virgin into Bridge Forward one. He knows she will be in pain; it strengthens the shield."
"Don't mind Cargocover two. She's been here too long."
"Er, Seethmantrica, can I ask you a question?"
"Don't call us by our previous names; it is forbidden. I am Firstgun Top, and you are Bridge Forward One. Do you understand?"
"Yes?"
"So what is your question?"
"Why are we here?"
"A good question, Bridge Forward One. We are supplying a very valuable commodity for the Morgons. You see, they need a certain compound in order for their shields to be effective. They searched the universe for it, then, by chance, they found a unique source of that compound, which was available in liberal quantities when the conditions were right. They needed the compound for use in their continuing war with the Quageelers. Which is why they were bothering to negotiate with the Humans at all. They had a basic understanding between the two species, but then the talks broke down because they couldn't agree on the quantity of the compound generators that were to be supplied."
"Has this compound got anything to do with why we're here?"
"It has everything to do with why we're here."
"Why? What is it?"
"Pussyjuice," said Seethmantrica.
"Do you have them on scanners?"
"Yes, Commander Harkass."
"Composition?"
"Forty-two vessels, of which 19 are Strato-class destroyers."
"Good, then we will have a good fight today."
Briefly, he thought of Red, then he gave the order. "Raise Shields."
"What's happening?" screamed the terrified girl as the clanging of the alarm reverberated through the ship.
"You'll see," cackled Cargocover two.
Danajane tugged at her straps when she felt the machine between her legs suddenly throb into life. She looked around, searching frantically for some escape. She noticed that most of the girls were looking at her. Seethmantrica had her eyes closed in concentration. Suddenly, they snapped open.
"Relax, Bridge Forward One. It will be easier."
The probe rammed into Danajane, sundering her carefully hoarded virginity like paper. It was stiff and rough, like a very hard sponge.It lingered for a brief moment, then it started pumping frantically. Danajane twisted and turned as best as she could in the bondage, but the probe was brutal and relentless, pounding away at the center of her being as it tried to draw her precious fluids from her and into the shield mechanism. Meanwhile, the massage units kicked in, massaging every part of her body with warm fur. Her breasts received the most attention as they were gently kneaded while the nipples were teasingly sucked.
Wildly, she looked around and saw that most of the girls were similarly engaged. Soon, their moans of pain were replaced by moans of lust as the machines did their work.
A fire started to build in her belly. Onward and upward, it roared until it seemed like her body could contain it no longer, and she orgasmed in a welter of juices.
The bridge took two hits simultaneously. The shield value dropped alarmingly.
Deep, deep down in the bowels of the ship, the young girl writhed in hopeless lust as the probe doubled, then tripled, its speed. Her head shook, whipping her hair backwards and forwards across her sweaty red face. Her feet drummed a tattoo as the orgasm hit, creating a white hot supernova of pure ecstasy.
The machine was rewarded with a gout of precious cream, and the shield value slipped up by ten percent. The probe thundered on.
The battle raged for hours, with the ponderous fighting ships pounding each other like drunken bare-knuckle boxers. Finally, the Morgons started to yield as one by one, their shields lost their effectiveness or, in some cases, died completely.
Eventually, Harkass called off the fight, and his ships cloaked and hyperspaced out. He wasn't worried about the battle. There would be others, and he would be better prepared next time. He'd captured nearly two hundred new shield generators to replace those too worn out or sick to provide adequate cover. These he left behind to be integrated back with their species.
Just as he engaged the drive, he glanced up at the bridge forward one shield indicator. It still read 100 percent. He clapped his spartucles together. He was looking forward to testing her in the many great battles to come. |
7,462 | The Power | "Power. That's what it comes down to. Sex is just about power. Did you know that?"
Sorry, darling, I can't answer you because your cock's in my throat.
"Power over women, the power to sexually satisfy them, to make them cum again and again and again; that's the key."
Say, just what are you on about?
"You see, very few men can exert that power, because most men can't satisfy a woman fully. I'm lucky, I'm one of the few who can."
I've never known any man talk so much while being deep-throated. This is your cock, and not some fake rubber protrusion, right?
"That's why there are so many lesbians, you see. They're not attracted to other women, but they haven't been able to find a man who can satisfy them. If they're lucky, then they meet me. I cure them."
What total garbage. I'd tell you so, too, if only I could talk with all this man-meat jammed in my esophagus.
"And now I'm going to satisfy you, because I have the power."
Hey, mate, take your hands away this instant! I don't like men who try to crush my face into their crotch, especially not when their cocks are down my throat!
"Get ready, darling, you're about to be satisfied."
I'm not joking now; get your hands off my head NOW or I'll castrate you with my teeth!
"Here it comes... Ooohhhhwuuuugggghhhh..."
Oh, nice, I'm forced to have your cum inseminated straight into my stomach. I don't even get to taste it! Right, Mr. I've-Got-The-Power, you've asked for it.
"There; I'll bet you've never felt satisfaction like that before, eh?"
Don't think you can get around me by just removing your hands - it's too late for that. Maybe I will bite your cock off - no, I've got a better idea. Gosh, doesn't your cock get limp fast. I didn't take it out of my mouth, it shrunk itself out of my mouth!
This smile is false, by the way, and so is the satisfied sigh and the way I'm clutching at you in a sexually exhausted manner. Satisfied my foot! Just give you a minute or two of false security...
Ah, good, you're dozing off. Poor pet.
Unfortunately for you, we chose to come back to my place. Did you know I keep a wide variety of sex toys in a drawer at my bedside? No? Well, you're about to learn. Let's see...
Ah, yes, these handcuffs will do for starters. Click - one done. Click - two done. Oh dear, the clicks have woken you up...
"Errrrhhhhhhh - Eh? What's this?"
Don't ask stupid questions, darling - I've handcuffed your hands to the headboard, so it isn't a crochet lesson! If I told you it was a bit of light bondage, would you believe me? Probably not. On the other hand, maybe you would... Only one way to find out. |
6,517 | 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?" She didn't answer.
"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 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!" He drew me down onto his lap. I was completely ready. He used his hand to guide his cock right into me.
"You'll have to tell me why. Why does she need it?"
"She... she's such a little sexy thing. She thinks she has it made!"
"You think she's sexy?"
"Yes!"
"Do you look at her body?"
"Yes!"
"Do you want to see her naked?"
"Yes!" My mind was whirling.
"Do you want to lick her cunt?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Do you want to whip her?"
"Oh god! Yes!"
"I'll have her whip you while my cock is inside her."
"Yes! Fuck her hard! Hard!" He lifted my body up and down, his cock sliding in and out. I was so distracted. But I lifted the whip again and smacked her rear with it. I was much better. Her groans were definitely louder. It seemed to me that she'd come a bunch of times. I couldn't believe it.
"Do you like it when she whips you while I'm fucking her?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"I think she likes my cock inside her."
"Oh my god!"
"You like her whipping you while she has your husband? What do you think of her?"
"Oh god! Fuck her *hard*!"
"She and your husband fucking? You like that?"
"The bitch! Fuck her ass!" He had K.Y. jelly in his hand! He was still inside me!
"You want my cock in her ass?" He had K.Y. jelly on his finger and was probing for my rear!
"Yes! Fuck her in the ass! Hard! Get her good!" His finger had found it and was pushing in! 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. |
6,554 | Nothing Much | "Hold still," he says.
My breath stills. My heart hushed, my muscles quivering, I wait.
In the dark I wait.
Unmoving. Bound.
Unsighted. Blindfolded.
Clamped. Thrilling.
Kneeling. A supplicant. I wait.
A touch.
Nothing.
Another touch, this one long enough to feel...
Nothing.
Something. Whispering past my face, and intensely light across my breasts.
Sensation focuses to that indistinct undertone - and it stops.
"Don't move," he says.
A slight moan, a tremble of limbs, I wait.
Anticipating, I wait.
Leaning. Searching.
Silent asking.
Tied, secured.
I wait.
A touch.
Something.
Something sharp. A point, a blade, a... gone.
Nothing.
The whisper, back again.
The point, tracing my breasts.
The whisper, brushing my nipples.
I groan, the sensation flooding me.
Each move, each tremble, changing the ropes' pressure.
Each breath, each heartbeat, moving those low-placed knots.
Sensation building. Thrilling, stimulating, electrifying, moving towards an edge.
Point running down my belly. Whisper across my thighs. Teasing, tormenting, pain-and-pleasure of straining towards a spectre that laughs - then stops.
"Not a muscle," he says.
I cry out. In frustration. In sensuality. In distress. In need.
A hand.
Fingers.
Light across my thighs, then following the ropes towards the willing center, the yearning void, the unfulfilled point of no return.
I spasm. Thrill. Nerves joyous with near-ultimate release, I fall forwards to the pillows. I scream.
He covers me, one hand to my mouth, the other to my gratification. A darkness of desire takes over as the act is completed.
His neighbor asks the next day, "What were you doing to her?"
"Nothing much," he replies. |
7,591 | The Interview | "Very good indeed," the woman repeated, "now let's test how good you are at switching roles. Are you up for one more test?"
Jennifer knew that even the question was part of the interviewee's test, and replied that she would be happy to 'take another call'.
"Jennifer, this is the operator. We have a gentleman on the line who has asked that you not have his name. Will you take the call?"
A challenge, Jennifer thought. "Yes," she answered.
Again, a moment's pause, as if the line was truly being switched. Jennifer lowered her voice a little, trying to make her greeting sound like a purr. "My name is Jennifer," she said to the silent receiver, racking her brain on what to say. "I'm here just for you. Anything you wish. What would you like, honey?"
Silence.
"Well, let me describe what I'm doing right now. I'm laying on my couch, completely naked, running my fingers over my body. My skin feels soft and smooth to my hands, and I like caressing myself."
"My breasts are so sensitive, and just touching them sends shocks of pleasure down my body. I'm licking my finger now, and rubbing it over my nipples. The wetness is making them peak, and they feel so incredibly good."
"Would you like me to bring myself to orgasm? For you? Just for you?""I'd love to masturbate for you," she purred. As she expected, she received no answer. Still silence. She continued on.
"Now I have one hand on my breast and I'm rubbing my clit with the other. It feels so good, but I want both my hands in my lower regions. I like to enter myself. First with one finger, then two...oh...yes, it feels so good. My other hand is on my clit... The rubbing feels so good..." She moaned, getting louder between words. "Oh, it feels so good... When I close my eyes, I can almost feel you inside of me... Pumping in and out... Like my fingers. You feel so good." Her breath was coming in gasps as she rubbed herself toward orgasm.
"...Oh...I can feel you inside of me...so deep...oh..." she screamed as she went over the edge of orgasm.
Silence. Then "you're hired," the woman on the end of the line broke in, "when can you start?"
Chapter 3:
Jennifer's First Call
The phone rang in the quiet apartment, and Jennifer sat up in bed and put her book on the night stand.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Jennifer?" a voice asked.
"Yes, this is she."
"Jennifer, this is the operator. I have a woman on the phone. Her name is Julie. She wants to speak to a lesbian or bisexual woman. Will you take the call?"
"Yes," Jennifer answered, "Put it through."
"Hello?" a timid female voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello Julie?" Jennifer said gently, "My name is Jennifer. I'd like to get to know you better. Can you tell me what you want?"
There was brief silence on the line. Jennifer sensed the hesitance came from embarrassment. This was confirmed by the tone of her voice when Julie finally started speaking. "I've never done this before," she almost whispered, "but I've always been interested in women and this seemed safe...." her voice trailed off.
Jennifer laughed softly. "I understand Julie... There was a time when I was like that too. But now I've been with a number of women, and it is wonderful."
"Oh, tell me," Julie nearly begged.
"When I am with a woman Julie, I like to start slowly. Feel their body against mine... feeling her skin, and its softness. Kissing a woman is wonderful, soft... different from kissing a man... indescribable. Then I move down and try to cover all the sensitive places on her body. Breathing softly in her ear, kissing and biting gently on her neck, down her collarline, and then to her breasts."
Jennifer could hear the breathing on the other line. Julie was breathing fast... encouraged, Jennifer continued. "A woman's breasts are so beautiful. I like to use my hands and mouth and kiss and suck on her nipples, biting softly and then harder, listening to her moan in pleasure." A moan came over the phone, from the other end of the line.
"Pretend it's you, Julie. My hands are on your breasts, and my mouth on your nipples. Now I'm moving downwards, kissing my way down your stomach, and just short of your clit. My tongue reaches out, just touching your clit lightly. I can feel you jump." Julie moaned on the line, and Jennifer could hear the faint sounds of her masturbating. "My tongue is moving around your clit. And then down further, pushing inside of you just a little, and then backing out again. And back to your clit, moving faster and faster... And I can taste your come. You taste so good. Oh Julie, you are so beautiful."
The sounds on the receiver told her that Julie was having an orgasm, and she corresponded her comments with the sounds of her orgasm. She waited, while Julie's panting breaths became more normal.
"Thank you Julie," Jennifer smiled in her voice "you truly are beautiful."
Chapter 4
Jennifer's Calls
"Put it through," Jennifer answered the operator.
*click*
"I am Mistress Jennifer," she began, assuming a firm, strong voice. "I believe you asked for permission to speak to me?"
"Yes, Mistress Jennifer." He sounded young, possibly in late 20's, early 30's. Older than her but young by her standards, however there was no need for him to know that.
"Well?" she demanded, "What is it that you want?"
"Please Mistress," he pleaded, "I wish only to serve you. To fulfill your desires. To worship you as my Mistress, if you will allow this worthless slave."
"And get something out of it for yourself in return," she stated shrewdly. 'Humiliation'-- she made a mental note to herself.
"Are you already hard?" she asked, still keeping her tone sharp and demanding.
"Yes, My Lady," he whispered, as if fearing yet craving her wrath.
"And were you given permission?" she asked, knowing full well it was a rhetorical question.
"No" his voice barely audible.
"No, Mistress!" she sharply corrected him.
"No, Mistress."
"Where are your hands?" she requested.
"One is holding the receiver, and the other is on my thigh, Mistress"
"Good." Be careful not to give him too much praise. She continued, "I want you to put one hand on your penis. Begin stroking it slowly. But you are NOT to cum. If you feel that you need to cum tell me, and I will decide when you will be given permission. Understand?"
"Yes....Mistress," he answered, a slight hesitation in his voice.
"Yes Slave?" she prompted, picking up on the hesitation immediately. "What is it?"
"I have ice next to me, My Lady," he volunteered.
"How handy," she purred. "Ok Slave, cradle the receiver between your shoulder and neck, so that both of your hands are free. With the one hand, continue stroking yourself. And with the other, I want you to press an ice cube to your balls. And hold it there until I say."
She heard his breathing becoming more ragged, and decided to persist with the ice he had offered.
"Now," she continued, "move the ice cube up to rub your nipples, first one, and then the other. SLOWLY. Then bring it back down to your balls, running all over them."
His gasping was audible now, and she could tell he was getting close to orgasm. "Mistress," he gasped out "Mistress please, might I be allowed to cum? I'm so close...."
"Not quite yet," she answered. "I want you to switch hands. Use the one that has been holding the ice to stroke yourself, and with the other pinch your nipples. HARD!"
He moaned into the phone, fighting for control.
"You may cum, slave." And with permission given, she heard an immediate groan over the phone line.
"Thank you, Mistress Jennifer," he gasped, still catching his breath.
She put down the receiver. |
6,834 | Not Gay | "I'm not gay," George said, taking a sip of his beer.
Jason smiled. "That's OK. I am."
This wasn't exactly news. Jason had made no secret of his orientation around the office. But he was a charming guy, and he and George had hit it off well, commiserating when the Jets lost again, discussing the finer points of wine and the blues. So when Jason had asked George out for a drink, he went along.
He hadn't expected it to be a bar filled with men. George tried not to stare as the two in leather gave each other a long passionate kiss. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just not comfortable here."
"Oh, don't worry about it. No one's going to pick you up."
"I mean, I thought you knew this."
"It's all right." Jason put a hand gently on his. "Don't worry about anyone else. Besides," he said with a playful glint in his eye, "you can't tell me you NEVER thought about doing it with a man."
"No."
"Liar."
George felt sheepish. "Well, maybe once or twice I've wondered what it would be like if a man sucked me off. But I'm not interested in doing it."
"How will you know you don't like it if you don't try?"
"That's stupid reasoning." George finished off his drink. "There are plenty of things I know I don't like without trying."
Jason nodded. "OK. It's not like I need to recruit anyone. I just like your company -- as a friend. That's all." He got up. "Let me get you another drink. On me."
George waited nervously for Jason to return. No one else seemed interested in him, but he felt almost as though he were on display.
Jason returned with two glasses just when George was beginning to wonder. "Try this."
George was glad to take the beer. He drank it down quickly, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
Jason was in no hurry. He sipped slowly, talking about work, the weather, all sorts of innocuous subjects. George helped up his end of the conversation, trying to pretend they were in a normal place.
Gradually, he began to relax. His head felt curiously lightheaded, and his hands clumsy. There was a strange buzzing in his ears that made it hard for him to think.
"Are you all right?" Jason asked.
"Feel funny," George mumbled. His voice sounded so far away.
"You look pretty good. Quite happy. Don't you feel happy, George?"
Happy? He wasn't sure. But it was getting very hard to think with that buzzing...
"You feel happy and good, George. Trust me. You know I'm right. You know I'm always right."
George tried to think, but his mind felt fuzzy. Must be the drink, he thought. Jason was right, he was feeling happy and good.
"You don't mind being here at all," Jason said.
"I don't?" George mumbled. Jason was right. Jason was always right. "No. Don't mind at all."
"Good," Jason said. "Very good."
George was strangely pleased.
"I drugged your drink, you know. But you don't mind that. Not at all."
"Drugged?" There was something mildly disturbing about that, but Jason was, as usual, right. "No," he mumbled.
Jason patted George's hand. "That's very good George. Now I want you to come with me."
"Sure," said George. Whatever Jason wanted.
They got up and left the bar. George felt slightly dazed, the buzzing still making it impossible to think. But he didn't mind. He could listen to Jason. Jason was his friend.
They got into Jason's car. Jason turned to him. "Now, George, I'm going to kiss you. You'll like it. More than any other kiss you've ever had."
Kiss a man? There was something... But the thought got lost in the pleasant buzz. "OK."
Jason kissed him. George was delighted at how wonderful it felt. Their two tongues touched, and he found his cock hardening.
Jason broke the kiss, disappointing George. "Very good, George. Now, from now on, you will obey my orders. You will do whatever I ask and won't want to do otherwise. Is that clear?"
Whatever he asked? Jason was gay. That might mean... what might it mean? Too hard to think. Too hard to worry. Do what Jason says. "Yes," George murmured.
"Call me 'sir' George. It's a mark of respect. Especially to someone you want to obey."
It seemed such a reasonable request. "Yes, sir."
"Will you obey me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good boy." Jason started up the car. "Now, boy, go to sleep. Go to sleep and dream. Dream you are serving me. Dream that I turn you on. Dream that you find following my commands completely natural and right. Dream that you will do anything I ask, without question. Do you understand?"
George nodded. "Have to dream..." he mumbled.
"You will awake when I tell you to."
"Yes, sir," said George as his eyelids fell shut.
"Wake up, boy," someone said.
George's eyes flipped open. He yawned and stretched a bit, feeling very refreshed. He looked over to see Jason and smiled. "Hello, sir." He shook his head. "I've been having a very strange dream," he added.
"Tell me about it, boy."
"You were my master. I did whatever you asked of me, sir."
Jason shook his head. "That was no dream," he said.
"It wasn't?"
"That was your memory. You remember now, don't you?"
"I remember?" It was hard to think. George felt so fuzzy. "I remember, sir."
"What do you remember?"
George was confused. "What else?"
Jason leaned near him. "Don't you remember me fucking you?"
"I..." Did he remember?
"My hard cock inside you? You must remember that, boy. It was the most intense erotic feeling you've ever had. You loved the feeling intensely. Intensely. Remember?"
George tried to think, to recall. It sounded strange to him, but the buzzing made it difficult for him to figure out why. But he trusted Jason.
"I remember," George whispered.
Jason patted George gently on the head. "Good boy," he said. "Good boy."
George beamed. The words made him feel special and loved. "Thank you, sir," he whispered. "I want to please you in any way I can, sir."
"You will, my boy. You will. Now, the drug will be wearing off in a few hours, but it won't matter. Your mind will be permanently altered. But it's all for the best, isn't it, boy?"
George nodded. "I love you, sir," he whispered. And he knew he always would.
They got out of the car. Just in front of Jason's doorway, he paused. "Tell me, boy. Are you gay?"
George shook his head. "No, sir. I'm not."
"What are you?"
George smiled, looking forward to his new life. "I am your slave, sir," he answered. |
8,119 | A Reporter's Stripping Story | "Get the scoop or you're fired!" Her editor's comments rang in her ears as she headed for the stadium.
Katherine, Kate as she was known, was the newest sports reporter for the City Times. Moving from television weather girl to sports columnist, she was determined to make her mark. At only 27, this fiery redhead had accomplished her dream of becoming a sports reporter, all this without lowering herself by giving in and using her obvious female attributes.
Billy Bo, the rookie quarterback for the Memphis Blues, who took the team from last place to one game from the Super Bowl in just his first season, was rumored to be leaving and taking the entire offensive line with him.
The whole town was abuzz with talk. Was he leaving or staying? It was serious, and her editor was even more serious. This story would make her career. If she missed this story, she would be fired, and being a woman, it would definitely be held against her. Driving home, she got lucky.
Walking around the corner, just outside of downtown, there was Billy Bo walking into a bar. She circled the block and saw his trademark Chevy truck with "B BO" on the plate. It was him. She parked and headed for the bar.
Once inside, this dim place was not too crowded, only about 10 or so. There he was, Billy Bo, beer in hand, talking to a bottle blonde dressed in a slinky short blue satin dress at the bar.
Kate strolled over to Billy Bo and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Billy Bo..." Billy turned and looked at Kate standing there. He lowered his sunglasses and admired her from head to toe and back again. Dark brown full skirt almost to the floor, matching leather belt, tan button-down blouse, concealing two obvious C-sized breasts. Her hair was up in a bun, and her dark-rimmed glasses hung on the end of her nose. He stared at her chest while he talked.
"Katie!" she hated it when he called her that. It was degrading. "Now what brings y'all here?" (Texas accent) She was painfully aware he probably could not identify her face in a lineup, but he knew her breasts. He never took her seriously, always brushing her off after each game.
"Are the rumors true about you leaving the Blues?"
"Now, darling, y'all know I won't talk 'bout that." He turned back to his DD-sized bottle blonde plaything.
"Please," she placed her hand on his shoulder, "all of Memphis is waiting to hear this." She was pleading. Billy Bo pushed her hand off his shoulder.
"Go away! Can't you see I'm busy." He returned to his 'friend'.
Kate turned and started to walk away. Hick, she thought to herself. Well, at least no one else was going to get the story. As she made her way to the door, the blonde whispered in Billy Bo's ear.
"That's a pretty darn good idea." He deliberately exaggerated the last word. "(Whistle) Hey, Katie, come here." She turned, and found herself moving to him faster and faster.
"Yes," she said hopefully. Once again, noticing he was watching her breasts bounce the whole way.
"My friend here has a pretty good idea. I believe you've got a list of stuff there to ask me."
"Of course."
"Tell you what, I will answer any question, but you must give me a piece of your clothing for each answer." Pervert! She thought. Then her mind flashed, "Get the scoop or you're fired!" She shook her head.
"You're on." Now all the patrons, all men except for blondie, were gathering around.
"First question, Katie." He sat back and grinned. Blondie put both her arms around his chest.
"Are you talking with other teams about moving?"
"Yes." He was enjoying this. "Belt, please." Slowly, she unhooked the brown leather belt. Because it was suede, she had to push it through each loop until it was freed from her thin waist. She handed it to him. He put it on the bar, but never took his eyes off her slim hips.
"What teams have you talked with?"
"Dallas, Miami, and New York." She kicked off a shoe and slid it to him. Now standing lopsided, she flipped through her notes. He returned to staring at her breasts.
"Do you favor any one of them?"
"Not really." Brick wall. Bad question. She now kicked off the other shoe and slid it to him. Now she was about to lose something important.
"Okay, um, is the Blues organization offering you more money to stay?"
"Yes. Now what comes off next?" She had an ace up her sleeve. First untucking, then slowly unbuttoning each button, from the top to the bottom, she began to remove her tan blouse. Billy Bo began licking his lips. She undid each cuff button, first right then left. Holding her breath, she pulled it off quickly, throwing it in his face. As he pulled it down, a priceless look of disappointment befell his face. She had a full slip on. But at least her breasts stuck out better, he thought.
"Okay, Billy Bo, are you planning to stay here in Memphis?"
"Of course." She was shocked at the frankness of the answer. Was he lying to her? He may be a sleazeball and quite possibly a pervert, but he was not known as a liar. She unbuttoned the single button, gently pulled down the zipper, and let the skirt fall to the floor. His jaw dropped. Her slip only went to the knee. Her legs were fantastic. She was in too deep now. She needed more. No matter the cost now. The skirt was placed on the bar with the rest of the clothes. Down to her white lingerie, she was beginning to feel the drafts in this place. And the stares from the horny patrons. Her nipples were getting hard from the cool air.
"Did you ever plan to move to another team?" She smelled a rat. The answer was now obvious. But she had to hear it. Even if it cost her the slip.
"Absolutely not." He sat back and laughed. This was what he was waiting for. The bottle blonde behind him was standing now, admiring her. Her thin blue dress shimmered in the lights of the bar, her obviously fake breasts bouncing as he laughed.
Not knowing if it was the desire to get to her last question, leaving her at least in her panties, or to just get it over with, she put both hands on either side of the slip, arms crossed, and pulled it over her head in one swift motion. It floated from her hands onto the bar with the rest of her clothes.
"Damn!" Billy Bo let out. She didn't realize it, but her matching white lace bra and panties were a little see-through. Not a lot, but enough. Billy Bo got an erection. He looked at Blondie. "How come you don't wear underwear like that?"
"Silly, I don't wear underwear." She giggled as she twirled her hair.
"Okay, are you ready for my last question?"
"Why, yes, I am." He smiled bigger than before. "That will cost you your bra, please." He held out his hand.
Kate panicked. That wasn't right. That was not a question, she protested. But no one would hear of it. She pleaded and got the cold shoulder, especially from Blondie. She needed her last question answered. She lost.
Placing both hands on the front, "clip" - the small sound as she unhooked the front of her bra, exposing to the world two perfect, round 36Cs. Her nipples were now puffy and fully erect from the cold, and partly the excitement, mostly the cold. She put her left arm over her breasts and prepared to write down his last answer.
"Why?" The ultimate question.
"Publicity, babe. The Blues and I and my agent dreamed up this whole thing to get national publicity. I get a large signing bonus, and the world gets to see my face on the front page of every major paper in the country, including yours." He was smug, very smug.
Kate abandoned her breasts, much to Billy Bo's delight. She slowly pulled her panties down, keeping her legs crossed as much as possible. It was no use. Her trimmed triangle stood out. Billy Bo began tapping his leg, letting her know how horny he was. She threw the panties at him. He put them to his face and took a long, hard sniff.
"It's an okay body," Blondie said.
"At least they're real, sister. There, happy now?" She extended out her arms a little, allowing him a good look. "Can I have my clothes back now?"
"Hey, a deal's a deal. I answered your questions. I keep the clothes." He loved it.
Kate grabbed her notepad, used it to cover her bush, the left arm to cover her breasts, and shoved her way out of the bar. Her ass wiggled while Billy Bo stared. Fortunately, it was dark, and she was not parked far away.
She got her story, though.
Epilogue
Billy Bo and Blondie left the bar and staggered arm in arm to his Porsche. They had stayed at the bar and celebrated for a little while longer. Before leaving, they staple-gunned Kate's clothes to the wall as a memento to the occasion.Laughing the whole way, Blondie was too drunk to notice that the left spaghetti strap had fallen off her shoulder. It fell down her dangling arm, exposing her left DD breast to the world.
Then, just before the car, like a blinding blur, a naked woman appeared from the alley. Billy Bo did not look at her face, just her breasts. "Katie," he said with a smile. She stopped in front of him, pushed the blonde away, and placed both hands on his shoulders. He continued to stare mesmerized at her fantastic breasts, then down to her glistening, sweet beaver. Then...
"Uggggggghhhhhhh... OHHHhhhhh." Kate kneed him directly in the balls. Billy Bo fell back, grabbing his nuts, then passed out cold from the pain. Kate smiled to herself. She turned to the stunned blonde and approached her with a devilish grin.
"Okay, Blondie." She grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up by it until it was obvious she was in pain. "Give me your dress."
"What???" Wrong answer. Kate punched her in the gut. Blondie doubled over in pain. Then, grabbing the dress by the straps, she pulled it over her head. Fake as they were, those fantastic boobs jiggled and bounced. Kate smiled, for it was now obvious from the glow of the street lights that she was definitely not a real blonde.
Kate now began pulling the dress over her head. The silky material slid over her round breasts nicely. Momentarily, it hung on her hips, leaving her pussy and heart-shaped butt exposed for just a precious few more seconds. Then she tugged it down, covering herself completely.
The blonde got up slowly. Desperately, she tried to cover her 36DD's, but it was in vain. They were too big for her small arms. She was left to covering the heart-shaved patch and moist area between her legs. Kate looked at her as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her new dress.
"Now, you didn't think I was going to go home naked, did you?" Kate headed for her car, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey," Blondie shouted, standing there bent slightly, desperately covering her pussy with both hands. "Do me a favor."
"What?"
"Call Mom and tell her I'll be a little later, and not to wait up." Geese, 25 years old, and still lives with her mom and dad.
"Okay." Kate got in her car and drove home. |
6,260 | The Sauna (2/4) | "No ... not at all," I stammered.
As soon as I'd finished my sentence, Nina got down from where she was sitting and proceeded to pull her towel away from her body. She then re-tied the towel around her waist and sat down again.
I almost had heart failure when I saw the beauty of her magnificent breasts. Needless to say, she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen in my life, and her breasts were sexy as hell.
Almost as soon as I realized what had just happened, my cock began to grow faster and bigger than ever before. I was eager to touch Nina's breasts, even if it was the last thing I ever did.
"You know," piped Katy, after a short silence, "I think you're right - it is getting quite hot in here." She continued, "I might just lower my towel to my waist as well, if that's alright by you two."
"Fine by me, Katy," said Nina, without delay.
"Is that alright by you, Alan?" asked Katy.
"What...?" I said a little dazed. "Oh yeah; no problem, go ahead," I replied.
I watched as one of the most beautiful teenagers I knew untied her towel from just above her breasts, then lowered it until it was around her waist. As with Nina, she finished the 'procedure' by re-tying the towel around her hips.
By now, I was getting really 'worked-up' by sitting within a very small distance of two topless beauties in a sauna. I decided that I should pinch myself in the side, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Luckily for me, I wasn't!
In order to attempt to confirm the fact that I wasn't dreaming, I chose to go and have a cold shower, as I was beginning to 'burn up' with the heat and the excitement.
As I closed the door of the sauna behind me, I breathed a heavy sigh. I stood under the cool spray of the shower and tried to get my heartbeat down to a reasonable level. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to want to slow down at all.
Within less than a minute, it was obvious my heart wasn't going to slow down for anyone this afternoon. With this in mind, I decided to go back to the heat of the sauna and the beauty of the two semi-nude young women.
Not long after my return to the sauna, Nina started talking again.
"You know, this heat is getting beyond a joke for me. I think I'll go and take a quick shower, if that's alright by you two," she said.
"That's okay by me, Nina," stated Katy.
"Not a problem with me either," I said.
Soon after Nina had gone out the door for a 'quick' shower, Katy started asking me questions.
"Well... what do you think of her, Alan?" asked Katy, anxiously.
I couldn't help but let out a slight laugh at the question I'd just been asked. Of course, I thought Nina was one of the most beautiful young women I'd ever seen in my life, but I didn't know what to say to Katy.
"She seems alright," I said.
"Do you think she's sexy?" asked Katy.
"No comment," I said, laughing.
"Does that mean you fancy her?" Katy continued to quiz.
"Aye, I'd say so," I retorted rather calmly, with a smile.
As Nina walked back into the sauna, she noticed that both Katy and I were smiling. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing much," replied Katy, "We were just talking about you behind your back!"
"I hope you weren't saying anything bad," said Nina.
"Well..." I said slowly. |
6,294 | FRESH PRODUCE | "Ma'am, are you okay?"
Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. For a brief instant, she thought she had died and gone to heaven.
"May I help you? Do you need medical assistance?"
As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased by ringlets of jet-black hair.
The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was -- lying flat on her "ass."
"I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured.
He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet. The entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk.
"What happened?" he asked.
She could feel her face becoming beet-red. This was surely the most embarrassing moment of her life, but Thank Heavens she wasn't going to be on "Candid Camera." She hoped.
"Can't be for certain. One never knows why one falls. I am known to be a klutz." Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace during her moment of pathetic self-pity and humiliation.
"Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!" he replied.
His response didn't help at all. It just increased her desire to cry.
"Um . . . that was pretty lame, sorry. Look, are you sure you're okay? Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something...you could file a law suit if you're hurt."
"No, no, I am fine -- really. The only thing bruised here is my ego."
She refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her well-padded derriere had cushioned the fall.
Now it was his turn not to laugh.
"Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliché City! Now we're even. One-to-one. Tit-for-Tat."
"Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most cliché place of all. This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself. Hi. I am Henley."
"Hi, Henley, I am Nora. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Nora. Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate milk?"
"I feel like a complete idiot. A well-educated, mature woman drinking chocolate milk," Nora blushed.
"Hey, I drink it too. Man, I still eat Pop Tarts." He glowed at the thought. Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars.
"Pop Tarts!" I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers," Nora laughed.
"Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added.
Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. " I ate that every morning for ten years." She paused. "No wonder my growth was stunted."
It had occurred to her that Henley was towering above her. She was at least a foot shorter. He must have been 6'2", maybe more. She felt like Sprout next to the Jolly Green Giant.
This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans.
"Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked.
"There is a God," Nora replied.
"Pardon me?" Henley looked confused.
"Nothing . . . I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir. If you don't mind being seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt."
Henley laughed. A good hearty, fiber enriched laugh. "Not at all -- my pleasure." They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side.
"Soup." Nora stopped. "Soup, uh, soup is good. Soup is good for you."
"Yes, that is what they say. Hmmm. I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora said.
"You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath.
Aisle Six beckoned. "Fruit." Henley stopped. "Canned fruit."
"Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches. Pineapples, I can deal with pineapples too. I like the ones shaped like little rings."
"Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly...used to stick my tongue through the hole."
"I beg your pardon?" Nora's eyes were wider than ever.
"The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?"
"No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls. So, Henley, do you live around here?"
"Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I do. Live right down the road at the St. Tammany Apartments."
"NO WAY!" she exclaimed.
"Way."
"I live there - so you can't possibly."
"Why? Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?"
"Too much chocolate milk in one place. Maybe we should lay off of it." Henley laughed again. Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by the depth of his dimples. He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of years.
He could have been reading her mind. "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind me asking."
"Fifty-four!" Nora exclaimed.
"You're fifty-four? Wow. You look fabulous. I am hitting the chocolate milk again tomorrow."
Nora giggled. "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can. Not bad."
"No, not bad for a can of peas. Ever notice that frozen peas always look a funny shade of green?"
"I'm thirty-eight."
"Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her.
"Very funny. Don't let me forget the coffee."
"Yes, Ma'am." Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice. "I'm thirty-nine."
"Wow. Marvelous. Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of saltines and tossed it into her basket.
"Like you said, there is a God." Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into Aisle Seven.
"I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked. Henley suppressed the urge to complain about the absence of lubrication.
"Fresh Produce!" Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept.
"These red grapes look fabulous! Look how ripe and succulent."
"HEY MISSY! Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!"
Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air.
Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously funny.
"You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there. Looking for a REAL big one?"
"Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-subtly. Or perhaps ever-so-evidently.
"Yes, I believe I am. It's not everyday you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed brunette with a chocolate covered butt -- a nice butt, I might add."
"Thank you." It was a royal flush.
"You are beautiful." Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the ground. His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one another's eyes.
Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten.
With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately on the lips. Her ice cream was beginning to melt. Any minute now it would be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear.
Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the most sensible idea in the world. But a rush of adventure had came over her. Grocery store fever.
"Okay," she said seductively. A little too seductively, she thought. Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight.
"Where are we going?" Nora asked.
"Wanna live life, really live it?"
"Yes, I always have -- what?"
"Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato soup and overripe bananas?"
"Yes, yes!" Nora was becoming another person.
"C'mon!" He led her to the back of the store. The Meat Department. He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop. No one was back there. It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere. Henley led her through another door.
"How do you know your way around here? Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse rate flying.
"Worked here as a teenager through high school. There is the stockroom."
He pulled her into the room and shut the door. It was dark. Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually. Nora let go and allowed her passion to take over. It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and dangerous. She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley began to unbutton the front of her dress. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue slowly down to her breasts. Nora could feel herself wanting more from him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties.Their breathing became faster and heavier. Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace.
Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartons of chocolate chip cookies and boxes of gingersnaps. Nora's dress fell to the cement floor, as she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley's hungry eyes.
The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made her as creamy as a Twinkie.
"Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed.
"Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet thighs. His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his fingers nestled deep inside her love hole. She moaned in ecstasy, then spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would walk in and watch - in all her glory.
"Oh, Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her anus with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other.
"Henley, oh, God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his warm tongue to dip into the exotic pudding that filled her pastry.
He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy.
"You taste like heaven."
Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth - dripping -- like an ice cream sundae on a hot summer day. He relished in it, the icing to his cake.
Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry look, as she frantically unzipped Henley's pants and freed his tortured, hard member.
"Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch. He raised his body to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Mayer Wiener. Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a popsicle. She sucked him hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as it dribbled everywhere else too.
Click!
They could see the lights under the doorway.
"Hello?" a deep, older voice asked. "Anybody in there?"
Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth. She could feel her heart beating against her chest as she tried not to breathe.
After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away. Close call.
They began to giggle. Their moment was gone. Like adolescents they snuck out, back to the safety of their grocery carts.
Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car. The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair. The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried.
"Henley?" Nora said.
"Yes?"
"What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right. I got carried away and . . .
"All's well that ends well."
He looked deep into her eyes. "Nora, I thought you wanted it."
"Yes, I mean, no.
"What? You can't say it wasn't good."
"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying . . . Hell, I just met you! You're a complete stranger. I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I want to do this right."
"It's okay. I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied.
"Can we start over?"
"Sure," Henley said. "Sure. You are absolutely right. I like you too and I want this to be more than just . . ."
"Sex?" Nora filled in the blank.
"Yeah, but you are sexy, you know. Little Miss Cantaloupes."
"Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner. No more stock room sex, at least not tonight."
"No stock room sex. I promise. It's a deal."
He began to rummage through her shopping bag.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the ground. Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants.
"We are starting from the beginning, Miss."
"No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle.
"No use crying," he repeated.
"Hi, I'm Nora." She reached out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Henley." He lightly kissed it.
"Nice to meet you," Nora said. "Very nice to meet you."
They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst out laughing.
"That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled. "The stock room? Did you really work in the stock room?"
Henley laughed. "Why yes, I did, Honey! I thought it was rather exciting! "But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!"
"Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!" Nora chimed as she got into the passenger's side of their car.
Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side.
They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands, and smiling. As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could hear an announcement on the supermarket's intercom system.
"Clean up on Aisle Two." |
8,257 | Faster than Light | "You don't believe me?" Rick asked.
"Well, no. I guess not," said Brian.
"You think I'm going to lie about something like that?"
"Of course you would. It depends what's at stake, but if you had some scheme in mind, you'd say just about anything, Rick."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing."
"Rick, I've known you, what? Twenty years? You'd sell your mom to get some skirt. Remember when Judy was coming down for the weekend and you told Liz that you were going in for surgery..."
"All right, all right." Rick's grin confessed to the charge. "But I'm not shitting you this time. I saw Tommy boffing Cheryl."
"Cheryl Sanders?"
"One and only."
"You're a liar. What's the angle?"
"Look. Hey, Steph. Come over here."
"Rick, Brian. What's up?"
"Rick says..."
"Wait," Rick interrupted. "Let me remove all doubt."
"About what?" asked Stephanie.
"How long have you known Cheryl?"
"I don't know. Six years?"
"Do you think she'd cheat on Jerry?"
"Never. Not in a million years. You going after married women now, Rick?"
"Nope. Not Cheryl, anyway. Jerry's a friend of mine."
"Didn't stop you when Angie..."
"All right," interrupted Rick. "I just have one question. Does Cheryl have a birthmark on her tit, right there?"
Steph slapped Rick's jutting finger away from her breast. "Well," she said.
"A lopsided heart?"
"Yeah. How did you...Rick, did you...?" Stephanie's brow tensed angrily.
"No," Rick said emphatically. "I went back to the house to get my other pair of sunglasses."
"Time to trade the early morning pair for the mid-morning ones?" asked Brian with a smirk.
"Mark sat on the one's I was wearing while I was swimming, funny boy. Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Shut up, Brian," said Stephanie, as she sat down in the warm sand.
"Thank you," said Rick. "I went back to the house and just as I reached for the back door, I thought I heard Cheryl say, 'Fuck me, stud.'"
"Oooh," said Stephanie, leaning forward.
"I stopped dead in my tracks. There was some rustling and a faint moan. Then I thought, I just saw Jerry go with Steve and Allison up to the boardwalk. So then I'm thinking that I must have been wrong, it couldn't be Cheryl."
"But it was," said Steph, anticipating.
"I slowly got down on my hands and knees. I started to crawl toward the window. Then Cheryl shouts, 'What a hot cock!' She was really excited about it."
"I can't believe it," said Stephanie. "Cheryl? I've never heard her say anything dirty."
"I couldn't believe it either. I thought one of the guys had brought some bimbo back to the house. So I crept closer and peeked in the window."
"That is so twisted," said Brian with a smile.
"I wish I had my camera. Now, that would have been twisted. Anyway, I peek into the back bedroom and there's Tommy sitting on the bed with his trunks at his ankles and Cheryl's kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick."
"Wow," murmured Stephanie. "I wouldn't have guessed she'd do anything like that. She always blushes and runs off when we talk about stuff like that."
"Well, Cheryl may not talk the talk, but I don't think it was the first time she'd sucked dick. Very enthusiastic performance. Beautiful titties, too. Bigger than I'd noticed before, and big dark nips. And a birthmark."
"That's Cheryl," Stephanie confirmed, nodding.
"So then," Rick said in a low voice, "she pulls down the bottom of her swimsuit and wiggles her white butt while she's going down hard on Tommy's dick. I thought I'd blow a load, just watching."
"Rick," said Brian, blushing. "I don't think we need to know all the details."
"Shut up," said Stephanie. "Is he big?"
"Not bad," said Rick. "I mean, it was pretty long but slender. I'm no judge of meat, but Cheryl seemed to like it."
"Mmm," said Stephanie, licking her lips. "I wonder if..." Manicured nails scratched a gnawing itch under her bikini.
"Well, you'd better get a piece before Jerry finds out," said Rick. "Can you say 'justifiable homicide?'"
"You can't tell Jerry," said Stephanie, suddenly serious.
"Not me," said Rick. "But I've never seen a secret like this one kept quiet long."
"You guys tell Jerry and I'll mess you up," warned Stephanie.
"Capisch. So Cheryl's going to town and I'm thinking Tommy's going to blow but then Cheryl climbs on top of his rod and jams it into her pussy. She was so wet I could smell it."
"Wow."
"She starts riding like she was galloping to freedom. Tits bouncing, Tommy's groaning, Cheryl's just spewing obscenities; "Fuck, suck, bitch, cock, fuck, dick," and then she squeals so loud I thought the whole gang was going to come running up from the beach to save her."
"What's up?" asked Liz, sitting down between Stephanie and Rick.
"Rick caught Cheryl fucking Tommy."
"No way," said Liz, her eyes lit up.
"Sure as shit," said Rick.
"Does Jerry know?" asked Liz.
"Not yet," said Brian.
"Not ever," said Stephanie, the menace returning to her voice.
"What about Terri?" asked Liz. "Aren't she and Tommy a thing?"
"Naw. She dumped him a while back."
"Good for her."
"I didn't know that."
"Someone told me that she was..." Brian's voice trailed off.
"What?" asked Stephanie.
"She was seeing someone else."
"Where's Jerry?"
"He wanted some fries."
"Here comes Cheryl."
"You guys just shut up. Okay? Let me talk to her."
"I want to know," said Rick.
"In your dreams," said Stephanie.
"You'll tell me everything, Steph, or I'm talking to Jerry."
"Okay. Now just shut up." Stephanie growled at the gang in the sand and then turned to the figure descending from the sparse hill of sand dune. "Hey, Cheryl. Have you seen Tommy? I need to talk to him."
"Um, no," said Cheryl, blushing.
Liz and Rick fell over in an explosion of laughter. Brian got up and shading his eyes, looked toward the distant boardwalk.
"I need some fries," he said, shaking his head and taking hold of his prone friend's shoulder. "C'mon Rick, let's get something to eat.
"Sure," said Rick, wiping his eyes with a sand coated hand. "But you don't call me a liar anymore."
"Shit," said Brian. "That's the least of your worries. Let's go." |
8,264 | One of Those Nights | "Excuse me for a minute," Grant said, touching Janet's arm and bending close. "There's someone I need to talk to."
"Sure," said Janet gaily, sending him off with a provocative smile. "I'll catch up with you later." Watching his broad green back weave through the crowd, she nodded. "Ooh, he is just so fine," she said softly, shivering slightly.
"Hey, Janet," said Rob, stepping into the empty space beside her.
"Hi, Rob," she said, still following Grant's progress across the room.
"Great party," he said, smiling.
"Yeah," said Janet, finally giving up her quarry as lost and turning to face Rob. "Shelley always has great parties."
"I was hoping that Deidre would be here. You haven't seen her, have you?" Rob asked, a sorry look in his eyes. Janet leaned against the wall and turned her head slightly.
"I think Deedee's in Florida," she said. "Shelley said her family always flies down for the holidays."
"Oh," said Rob. He shook his empty drink, rattling the ice cubes and lifted the glass to drain a few drops.
"Hey," said Janet, smiling suddenly at the morose young man, "have you met my roommate?"
"I don't think so," answered Rob.
"You should," said Janet. "She's a quiet girl, but really great. I had to drag her downstairs. Parties aren't really her thing, but I think she'd forgive me if I introduced her to someone like you."
"Okay," said Rob, shaking his glass. "I don't mind."
"She's really smart," said Janet. "I'll bet you two would have loads in common. Come with me." Taking hold of Rob's hand, Janet began to lead him through the crowd in the living room, back toward the kitchen. |
8,659 | Sandra and Ana.....an experience to be told | "My life is in shambles! I fucking want someone to love, dammit!"
Her face was so kind-looking. You know the kind of look that makes you feel soft in their presence? Sandra's eyes were full of tears. She was a lonely single mother of twins trying to make it in life. Working a job that paid enough to survive if the cat wasn't hungry.
"I am so fucking sick and tired of finding losers!" she said, staring at me. We sat face to face on the old couch that sagged on the back patio. The sun was just hovering over the frail tree tops. The heavy tree limbs swayed as the summer breeze swirled in and out at our feet, moving grass trimmings in little whirlwinds.
"Well, maybe you need to quit looking at losers in bars," I said in a gentle tone.
"Easy for you to say, you are never looking for anyone!"
We sat there and drank our iced tea in silence. Sandra had been someone I knew for what seemed like forever. I loved who she was and how she thought. She was pushing forty and felt like she was aging alone. This was the first time I noticed her beauty. Her hair draped her naked shoulders in colors of browns, like the fall. Her mouth was perfectly shaped. I loved her smile. Sandra's eyes were a vivid, jealous green.
As she went on and on about her absent love life, I watched her movements. Graceful she was, like a mature ballerina in full bloom. Her hands danced in the sunshine as she cursed each lover before the last. Her breasts were small and ripe. I felt as though I should have reached out and touched them.
"You always have masturbation," I said, interrupting her in mid-sentence.
"What? Where did that come from?" she asked, as her voice softened as she waited for an answer.
"I don't know, I always hear women talking about how great masturbation is." I blushed. I could feel the blood moving into my cheeks, filling them with warmth.
"What do you mean? Hearing women talk about it??? Don't you masturbate?"
I moved my body towards its center, and felt as though I would crumble at any minute. I was so embarrassed. I just let her know that I didn't do this. I had tried many times to get it right, but somehow never got the gist of it. I felt foolish with my hand in such a place, and worse, alone!
"Well..." I said, hesitating.
"Well, what?" she paused, trying to catch my eyes.
"I never got it right, so I gave up!" I laughed an uneasy laugh. I crossed my legs and had the major physical defense thing going on by now.
"Let me teach you, Ana," she said with a soft, pitiful smile. Okay, was she joking or what? Teach me? How the hell could she teach me to masturbate? Geez, I was a 28-year-old woman...
"Okay, teach me, Sandra, tell me all the great secrets," I said with great sarcasm.
Just then, she put her hand on top of mine and squeezed. She stood in front of me and began to undress. First, she twisted her locks on her head, driving a pencil through it with care. Then I watched her untie the small blue bows that rested over her shoulders that held her dress up.
"Look at me, Ana, feel my soul. Be a part of who I am," she whispered. Now I knew she wasn't playing with me. She was serious, and I was pleased. Her eyes locked with mine as she untied the right bow first. Holding her dress to her chest, she untied the left bow with the other hand. Still holding her dress, she held her hand out to me, I placed mine in hers, and followed her inside.
I watched her move as we walked inside. Sandra's hips swayed from left to right. She was a thin woman with great shape. Her back had spatters of freckles here and there that made me incredibly aroused. I traced her spine from her neck to her panty line with my middle finger. She giggled like a schoolgirl. As she led me into the bathroom, I became a bit puzzled. I thought we would end up in the bedroom. I sat on the commode and watched as she lit a candle. She smiled. I smiled. Then Sandra turned to the bathtub and began running the water.
"Mildly hot, not too hot. You never want it too hot," she said as she looked over her shoulder. Still holding her light blue printed dress to her chest, she stood in front of me on the most beautiful maroon rug. I had a bad habit of looking down when I became nervous and studied the details of this rug. "Up here, look at me, watch me, try to learn from this, Ana."
"Okay. I am a little nervous. I don't think I have ever been so intimate with a woman."
"Oh, keep your eyes open, it will happen one day. I can tell. You are open, but you need someone to lead you," she said as her hand touched my shoulder.
Sandra stepped back and released her dress. The soft pastel material slid down her body and gathered around her ankles. Her breasts were incredible. I looked down.
"Please don't look away, Ana, be with me, try to feel me with your soul."
"Okay," I said, starting at her neatly pink-polished toenails, then up her legs, passing her panties and up to her breasts. Aah, her breasts. Small in form but so perfectly created. Her nipples were large and stuck out, inviting my warm mouth to caress them. But I stayed still. Her skin was unblemished and taut for her age. Creamy white and soft-looking. Our eyes met. Time stood still.
"I am feeling kind of weird here, Sandra," I said, trying to find an escape.
"It's because this is new to you, just relax," she said in that sensual, soothing voice I have heard before.
Sandra ran her fingers across her tummy, then, slipping her fingertips under the elastic band of cotton panties, she slid them off, slowly, real slow. I thought I would go mad, until I saw the blonde fur that was so neatly manicured. She watched me squirm on the commode, knowing she was making me crazy. Then she stepped her feet apart. With one hand, she slid two fingers across the lips of her sex, not entering, just teasing. I felt my own sex begin to grow with wet fluid. I wanted to touch my own sex, or touch hers. Her sex was so beautiful that I imagined eating an overripe peach when the juices drip down the sides of your face. I wanted to run my tongue up the slit and find the place where she would scream my name out to the gods. She smiled and turned, stepping into the warm water. Her well-shaped legs draped the sides of this old, discolored porcelain Victorian bathtub. Then she let the water drain out a bit. I was confused.
"Watch me, Ana, this is the heavenly part of masturbation, or cheating," she laughed.
She leaned forward, turning the water back on, adjusted the flow and temperature, then slid down, slamming her ass against the foot of the tub. The water flow hit her sex with some amount of force. I was dizzy, looking at the black and white tiles, and counting the shampoo bottles in a frenzy. I was so aroused.
"Okay," she said, looking back at me, "I am going to do my thing, and you watch me. If you want, you can come closer."
"Okay," I said, not moving a muscle.
Her hands moved about her tummy, touching and gliding. Her nipples were erect and sat on top of her like Hershey's chocolate, only in a white, creamy color. Then she opened her sex. I had to be closer. I moved towards the tub and knelt next to her. She smiled and touched my cheek. I was lost, and she knew it. I saw pinks and mauves, like an artist had painted the soft tissues lining her sex. The water hit her clit and moved it back and forth as she slipped her finger deep in her sex. I wanted to taste her. Her moans were light, and I knew she was climbing with intent. I moved my hands towards the water, her eyes opened. Her hand moved around mine as she moved it towards her sex. I cupped her sex just so I could feel her heat and her passion. I began a soft, gentle rub along the length of her front side. Then I stood and bent over the tub and tasted her. The water splashed on the floor and drenched my clothes as it hit my head and ran down my neck. She moved back a bit, and I swirled my tongue in a feather-light flick. Her voice became deeper as she moaned for me to move faster. Her hands around my neck and the water flowing was a beautiful sight. I grabbed her legs and turned her around, first entering my tongue in her sex, then drawing it along her clit. My fingertips twirled her nipples between my fingertips when I heard the cry.The cry of orgasm. The satisfaction that I had wanted to feel all the years of my life.
I toweled her off that night and pampered her like a queen. I poured her a cup of red wine and fed her grapes. We didn't say much to each other that night. It wasn't about being woman and woman, it was about spirit with spirit. Being one with one another.
She and I are still very good friends and are both very sensual. We never speak of that summer night, nor do we ask ourselves why we did it. But sometimes when I am in my garden, I can smell her sex among the fragrance of the flowers that grow there.
1997 |
8,677 | The Sauna | "Alan?" inquired Nina.
"No... not at all," I stammered.
As soon as I'd finished my sentence, Nina got down from where she was sitting and proceeded to pull her towel away from her body. She then re-tied the towel around her waist and sat down again.
I almost had a heart attack when I saw the beauty of her magnificent breasts. Needless to say, she was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen in my life, and her breasts were sexy as hell.
Almost as soon as I realized what had just happened, my cock began to grow faster and bigger than ever before. I was eager to touch Nina's breasts... even if it was the last thing I ever did.
"You know," piped Katy after a short silence, "I think you're right - it is getting quite hot in here." She continued, "I might just lower my towel to my waist as well, if that's alright by you two."
"Fine by me, Katy," said Nina, without delay.
"Is that alright by you, Alan?" asked Katy.
"What..." I said a little dazed. "Oh yeah; no problem, go ahead," I replied.
I watched as one of the most beautiful teenagers I knew untied her towel from just above her breasts, then lowered it until it was around her waist. As with Nina, she finished the 'procedure' by re-tying the towel around her hips.
By now, I was getting really 'worked-up' by sitting within a very small distance of two topless beauties in a sauna. I decided that I should pinch myself in the side, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Luckily for me, I wasn't!
In order to attempt to confirm the fact that I wasn't dreaming, I chose to go and have a cold shower, as I was beginning to 'burn up' with the heat and the excitement.
As I closed the door of the sauna behind me, I breathed a heavy sigh. I stood under the cool spray of the shower and tried to get my heartbeat down to a reasonable level. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to want to slow down at all.
Within less than a minute, it was obvious my heart wasn't going to slow down for anyone that afternoon. With this in mind, I decided to go back to the heat of the sauna and the beauty of the two semi-nude young women.
Not long after my return to the sauna, Nina started talking again.
"You know, this heat is getting beyond a joke for me. I think I'll go and take a quick shower, if that's alright by you two," she said.
"That's okay by me, Nina," stated Katy.
"Not a problem with me either," I said.
Soon after Nina had gone out the door for a 'quick' shower, Katy started asking me questions.
"Well... what do you think of her, Alan?" asked Katy, anxiously.
I couldn't help but let out a slight laugh at the question I'd just been asked. Of course, I thought Nina was one of the most beautiful young women I'd ever seen in my life, but I didn't know what to say to Katy.
"She seems alright," I said.
"Do you think she's sexy?" asked Katy.
"No comment," I said, laughing.
"Does that mean you fancy her?" Katy continued to quiz.
"Aye, I'd say so," I retorted rather calmly, with a smile.
As Nina walked back into the sauna, she noticed that both Katy and I were smiling. "What's wrong?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing much," replied Katy, "We were just talking about you behind your back!"
"I hope you weren't saying anything bad," said Nina.
"Well..." I said slowly. |
8,708 | Improvisation | "I can save you, traitor," the Princess hissed. "My father wants to believe in you, and I can persuade him." She paused and gave her prisoner an inviting look. "There is a condition. You must renounce Aida and marry me." A fierce, determined gleam in Theresa's eyes spoke volumes. She slammed her notebook down on the table for emphasis. Silence let the noise echo.
"I cannot," Scott replied weakly, unprepared to offer up the noble surrender of his life. He looked up at the woman. "Never. I love her." The emotion in his voice trembled.
"Good," shouted the director enthusiastically. "Perfect, Theresa. Scott, you need to speak with more courage and conviction. But I think you two have the right idea. Let's break for lunch, and when we get back, we'll do some more improv on the scene. Think about what has happened in the script and what will happen next. I want each of you to understand your characters completely before we start singing."
"Actors," grumbled Scott as he stepped off stage.
"C'mon," said Theresa, taking his hand and pulling him behind her. Scott followed, a little disturbed to be submitting to the demanding mezzo-soprano in front of the rest of the cast, but not quite daring a fit of independence so early in the production. Once they'd escaped the curious eyes of their fellows, he accepted her command with a ready eagerness. Theresa opened the door to her dressing room and, showing him in, she locked the door behind them.
"I had the caterers bring some trays back here. I thought we could discuss our scenes while we ate. I hope you don't mind."
"I think it's a marvelous idea," said Scott, sitting on a loveseat.
"Good. I'd hoped you would accommodate my flights of fancy. I am so anxious that this production go well, and with you as our tenor, I think our show will be delicious." Theresa twirled and sat beside her leading man.
"Thank you," said Scott, reaching for a sandwich. "I meant to thank you before. I know you're the reason I'm here."
"Nonsense," said Theresa, laughing. "You deserved the role. Who else could play the passionate general with so much strength, so much verve, so much voice? I don't think there was ever any choice."
"Still, with your father producing the opera, I mean. You..."
"Daddy's indulged me in choosing the role, but he wouldn't throw away money, even for me. Only the best were chosen for this show."
"And you chose Amneris? I mean, why didn't you take Aida's role?"
"Don't kid me, Scott. I'll be lucky to hit the B-flat. Don't even dream about me hitting high C without a whole lot of orchestra drowning that screech out. Besides, I think I can understand the spoiled daughter role better than most." Scott sputtered a heartfelt laugh, choking back the sandwich and his fear of offending the lady.
"Fair enough. I'm going to be struggling myself. Maybe you can get the caterer to bring us an extra bottle of brandy before the show to loosen our chords."
"Hmmm," said Theresa, putting her china-like hands on Scott's shoulder, playfully. "I wouldn't want us getting too drunk to control ourselves." Scott smiled with a twinge of anxiety and took a bite of his thick hunk of Italian bread.
"No," he said, his mouth still full, "I wouldn't think more than a sip would be necessary."
"Still," said Theresa, her hands moving down the tenor's chest, "we don't have to maintain too much control."
Scott felt himself draw away from the aggressive touch of his companion, anxious to keep her good grace and yet unprepared to give himself up so easily. Her hands fell down to tease his thigh, and he stood up suddenly.
"Do you have anything to drink?" he asked.
"Sure, mon general. Let me pour you some of my favorite wine." She leaned over to retrieve the bottle from beneath the serving trays. Ice water dripped from the French label. "Could you open it, please? I'm all thumbs with corkscrews." Scott nodded shyly and took the bottle from her hands. He turned the metal spiral into the cork. Theresa rubbed an unashamed hand over the crotch of his trousers. Scott blushed and pulled at the cork. Theresa unzipped his fly.
"Mmmm," she said. "I'm going to like working with you."
"Theresa," he said, putting the bottle down and turning away slightly. She took hold of his hips and drew him closer.
"Pour some wine," she instructed him, boldly fishing in the darkness of his pants. His cock fell softly into her eager fingers. "Hmmm," she murmured. Scott reached awkwardly for the glasses. Theresa pulled his thickening member from the confines of cloth. Scott poured the wine. Theresa suckled his prick.
"Oh," he said nervously, feeling the rush of adrenalin and unbidden excitement in his blood. She pushed the stiffening rod deep into her mouth. He put a hand through her silky hair.
He thought for a second of Andrea. She would never forgive this.
As Theresa slipped her tongue wet over the length of his prick, the mezzo-soprano began to hum. "Theresa," the tenor moaned. "Don't," he said, his voice trailing softly as she sucked to the first line of their impassioned duet. She continued to play and lightly sing. Scott found himself gently intoning his lines as they arose in the succession of rhythm and fevered emotion. Theresa suckled and sang and fondled and played. Scott felt the heat rising in his neck and his head. As her notes rose higher, pleading passionately for him to forsake his love, to live, to survive, he felt his excitement bubble. He was Radames. He would triumph. Amneris would make him king. She swallowed the fountain of lust.
She licked her lips with a smile. Scott again offered her a glass of wine, and this time she took a sip. Scott poured another glass and tossed it back in a gulp. He tried to look at her, but felt deflated and ashamed.
"Mmmm," Theresa said energetically, paying his reluctance no mind. "A good rehearsal, wouldn't you say?"
"Um, yes. Theresa?"
"Scott?"
"Thanks. I mean. Thanks." A knock came at the door.
"Back on stage, please," a voice spoke.
"C'mon, lover. Let's show them how this scene should be done."
"Yeah," said Scott, weakly, "with courage and conviction." |
8,712 | Paying the Debt | "I can't believe it," I mutter as I watch the replay on the computer screen, "I lost." I let out a growl of annoyance. You then flash me that evil smile that you do so well. Looking at the clock, you notice that it's very late and you'd better get going.
"I'll be back tomorrow around three-thirty, four o'clock to collect my bet," you say, kissing me briefly on the lips.
I growl in response to your cocky tone and smug grin. I then grab you and give you a hard kiss goodbye.
"You'd better not welch on this bet," you say as you leave. Then I hear the door close.
"Damn," I mutter, "I should have known better than to make a stupid bet like that. I guess I'm going to have to pay up but..." My mind starts to whirl with ideas and images.
"He is going to be calling the shots, but I think I know a way to shift a little of the power back into my hands. I have never been the submissive. I still need to have some control over the situation."
Then, in a flash, it comes to me. "Fire and Ice!"
"Oh boy, is he going to be in for a surprise tomorrow," I say as I get the things I need ready. I go to the top of the closet and pull out a glass, an ice cube tray, a coffee cup, and a container of bottled water. I fill the ice cube tray and put it in the freezer, and the bottled water goes in the fridge. I leave the coffee cup on top of the little fridge with the glass. After everything is in order, I get ready for bed and go to sleep.
The next morning, I still have things to do to prepare. After everything has been set up, I pick up my book and begin reading.
A few hours pass.
I put down my book and take a look at my watch. 2:30 PM. My stomach tightens, knowing that you'll be here within the hour. I don't have a lot of time to get myself ready. I throw on a pair of jeans, a black silk shirt, and a pair of leather boots. Then I have to finish setting up. I fill the coffee cup with water and put it in the microwave for a few minutes. I then put the ice in the glass and fill it with water. I set the glass and coffee cup on the ledge next to my bed. I then am left with minutes to sit and stew and get even more nervous. I jump almost a mile when you open the door. You take one look at me and it's obvious how jumpy I am. And you can't help but laugh. You then grab me and kiss me. Hard. Forceful. Scraping your nails down my back. I arch back, and my moan pours into your mouth. You then travel to my neck, where you proceed to torture and tease. Biting, scraping, licking. A low growl forms in my throat as I throw my head back.
"If I recall correctly, you have a debt?" you say with a slight smile on your face.
I nod, look down, and blush. You then tilt my chin up and bring your lips to mine. Gently at first. My hands instinctively wrap around your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss becomes more and more passionate as the seconds pass. My hands move down from your neck to your shoulders as I slowly back you up towards the bed.
We both fall back onto the mattress, with me on top. I then decide to tease and torment you, just a bit. I lean over and gently bite your neck, scraping my teeth over your warm flesh. I then trail my tongue up to your ear, very slowly. I start nibbling your ear, every so often flicking it with my tongue. I hear you moan and gasp just a little. I then proceed to scrape my teeth down from your neck to your shoulder. You seem to enjoy my ministrations. You bring your hands to my neck and shoulders, trying to regain a bit of control. However, you've tried that before. In a blinding instant, I grasp one of your fingers between my teeth. I then caress your fingers with my tongue, nipping and sucking ever so slightly. I repeat this to all of your fingers, listening for your response. I hear you growl, softly. I then slide my hands over your chest, tugging and pulling at your shirt. You push away my hands and pull your shirt off. I growl appreciatively, liking what I see. I then press myself against you. You run your fingers down my back, making me arch backward. Taking advantage of the position I am in, you unbutton the front of my shirt, pushing aside the silk. As I kiss my way down your chest, you slide the shirt off of me. Eventually, I reach the top of your jeans. Driven by a wild impulse, I unbutton your jeans and skim the zipper down with my teeth. You then tug the jeans off, tossing them to the side.
"If I remember, you have a bet to pay up," you say, looking down at me. "And if I remember the provisions of the bet, I get to call the shots."
I smile. You have no idea what I'm going to do. However, I doubt that you'll ask me to stop.
I kneel between your legs and lick you from base to tip. I then slide you all the way into my mouth. I hold you there, pulsing my throat ever so slightly around you. I then slide you out of my mouth and reach for the glass of ice water that's right next to my bed. After taking a sip, I slide you in my mouth again. You gasp at the sheer coldness of my mouth.
"I thought that I was going to dictate what goes on," you say, gasping ever so slightly.
"Then you want me to stop?" I ask.
You shake your head in a vigorous "No."
Knowing that I now am holding some of the cards, I decide to continue. I slide you out of my mouth and take a sip of the hot water. I slowly slide you into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the head. I hear your rapid intake of air as you slide further into my mouth. I keep alternating the fire and ice treatment. I keep throating you and licking you all the while too. When I pay off bets, I make sure that I fulfill it to the best of my ability. I can feel you tighten up, and I know that you are close. I slide you out and blow a cool stream of air over your now very hard cock. And then I slowly slide you into my mouth again. This action was the one that sends you over the edge. You stiffen, and your hands grab my hair, holding me in place as the orgasm hits you. Even during your climax, I continue to play with your cock with my tongue. I hold you in my mouth the duration of your orgasm.
After the orgasm subsides, you slowly begin to relax, and your breathing returns to normal. I raise my head up and look at you with a wicked smile, very similar to the one that you so often give me. I lean over and kiss you gently on the mouth. I suggest that we rest a bit, before I have to fulfill the rest of the bargain. You agree, but as I curl up beside you, I notice a wicked gleam in your eye. And I know that you are planning some kind of payback for me when I pay off the rest of the bet. |
7,729 | Mouth | "Wow! You never told me your sister looks like *that*!" My wife's sister Sue had just come into town and brought her latest boyfriend. Apparently, he was one to speak his mind.
"You look fantastic!" he went on, still addressing Judy, my wife. He was tall and obviously an outgoing person. "Do you know what I like *best* about you?"
"Oh, Rob, stop teasing her," said Sue, "There's no stopping him," she said to us.
"What do you like best?" asked Judy.
"Your mouth. You have the most wonderful mouth." This was a little strange. "It is so perfectly shaped! And your lips! They're *fantastic*! Do you know what your mouth and lips are perfect for?"
"What?" asked Judy. She seemed a little wary to me and a little taken aback.
"For what *men like best*!" There was a pause and no one said anything. I was sure Judy was going to explode, and I waited like a statue, braced for it. Then she giggled.
"Sorry about that," said Sue, "Obviously he's not housebroken yet."
"I can see that!" said Judy, but she was still giggling.
"What's the matter?" said Rob. "I just call it like I see it."
"Right," said Sue, rolling her eyes at the same time.
Rob was a little much for me--one of the louder and more abrasive people I'd ever met. He had a comment for everything throughout dinner, and I wondered how long Sue would be able to take him. After dinner, Sue and Judy got in conversation catching up, and I ended up entertaining Rob.
"They sure are a couple of hot babes!" he said by way of making conversation, I suppose.
"Yes, they are both very attractive."
"You got *that* right!" I tried to think of a response to that. I suspected keeping up a conversation with Rob would be a challenge. After a pause, he went on "Did you ever do Sue?"
"No, I never did!"
"How could you keep your hands off her? What a pair of sisters! I bet Sue's been desperate when she was between boyfriends!"
"Well, I've stuck with Judy."
"Right! I got ya!" and he winked at me! Believe it or not, our conversation didn't rise much above that. Finally, we all got to talking some more, and I felt relieved even though the conversation was still a bit strange.
I almost asked Judy what she thought of Rob when we went to bed, but figured I didn't want to listen to a harangue. I wondered what it was going to be like spending a day at the beach with them. But something made me look at Judy's mouth. No, we never do that. I think about doing it sometimes, but I could never imagine Judy going for it.
That night, I woke up, and Judy wasn't there! "Judy," I said in a low voice and got no response. I got up without turning on the light and wandered out the door in the dark. Light was coming from the guest bedroom, and the door opened a bit, blinding me. When it was shut, I found Sue in the hall with me.
"Everything all right?" I asked Sue in a low voice.
"Oh, sure," said Sue.
"Judy got up for something," I said.
"Oh, it's that Rob! There's no stopping him!" said Sue. "Come here and look," she added, grabbing my hand and pulling me. She pulled me to the door and opened it a crack. Judy was in there! And kneeling in front of Rob with his cock in her mouth! I stared. Sue closed the door again.
"Once he has something in his mind, you just have to get out of his way!" she said and giggled. I didn't know what to do. She just stood there as if she were waiting for me. Finally, I walked back into my room--it was like I was in a trance. I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.
I woke up the next morning to find Judy right there beside me--as if nothing had happened! We all ate breakfast, and no one said a single word about it! After breakfast, we drove down to the ocean. It was pretty crowded, but we had the chance to go in a bit as well as lay out. Rob was in and out of the waves the whole time. Judy and Sue sat and talked for a lot of the time. I got bored. Then we were leaving.
"Yep, that Judy's really something!" Rob was babbling on as we walked through the parking lot, but this caught my attention in light of the previous evening's activities. "You've got the mouth of an *angel*!" he went on, directing his comment to Judy.
"Don't listen to him!" said Sue, giggling.
"I *mean* it! Dan knows, don't you?" Now *what* was I going to say to answer *that*?
"Yes--she's *very* pretty," I volunteered. We were approaching our car.
"Sure she's a knockout. But I mean the way she sucks cock!" Judy gasped, and Sue giggled again. This was unbelievable! I just stared. "Come, let's show them," he went on. We were at the car. He pulled Judy by the hand over next to the car--between it and a minivan parked next to it. Then he pushed down on her shoulders, inducing her to kneel. They were still both in their suits--Judy in a bikini. He pulled off his suit, and his cock sprang out there right in front of her face. She didn't look at me at all but just knelt there looking at his cock. There weren't people right there in the parking lot, but it was pretty open--anyone could come toward us.
"Easy now, girl, you can do it," he said, and he pulled her head toward his cock. Right out there in daylight, in the parking lot! I looked around nervously. She had him in her mouth and was sucking away. Sue just watched and smiled. I couldn't help but nervously look around for anyone coming.
She went on and on, sucking him. He looked down at her and smiled. I couldn't stand watching it.
"Isn't she good?" he finally said. Then he started grunting and spasming, and it was obvious that he was coming. She just kept sucking.
"She's a great little cocksucker--a *real talent*," he went on. Judy stood up. She looked a little nervous and didn't look at me at all.
"Well, I think she has a *lot to learn*," volunteered Sue.
"Well, she isn't as accomplished as *you* but she certainly has potential."
"I'll show you *real* cocksucking," responded Sue. Immediately, she was on her knees in front of Rob. In seconds, she had her one-piece peeled off and around her knees. I stared at her body--her naked breasts. Rob approached her, and she went right for his cock with her mouth. He grabbed her hair and started fucking like crazy. I couldn't believe how much they moved--he was slamming into her face! She more-or-less hung on for dear life. She had her hands folded behind her back. He was jerking more and more until he obviously came again. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Judy was watching them too. When he was done, he collapsed against the car, and she collapsed into sitting on the ground. They just stayed like that, catching their breath for a minute. Then they pulled on their suits and got in the car!
Judy wouldn't look at me that evening--I never talked to her once even though we all had supper together. That evening, Judy and Rob disappeared into the guest bedroom. I didn't go up there. They were there for hours til past time to go to bed. Sue and I watched TV, not saying much. Finally, I headed for the bedroom without Judy. Sue followed me.
"She just wants to learn," said Sue. She sensed that I didn't like all this. She left, and I went to bed. As soon as I had the light out, the door opened, and someone slipped in. I turned on the light again by the bed. It was Sue. She was in a nightie, and she slipped into bed in Judy's place and reached over me and turned out the light again.
I lay there thinking. "It's just a little *change* for her," said Sue as she lay there. "She's going to know new things." I didn't answer but still stared at the dark ceiling. She reached over and took my hand. "Hold me, please," she said. I finally looked at her in the dark. We kissed for a minute. Then she drew back and lay on her back next to me. She said quietly "please?" I still stared at the ceiling--I couldn't do it. I held her in my arms part of the night, but that was all.
The next morning, Rob and Sue were gone. Judy was making breakfast when I woke up. She said good morning when I came down as if nothing had happened.
"Judy..." it was my first word of the morning, and she turned, sensing I was disturbed.
She put her finger over her lips to quiet me. "You liked it with Sue, didn't you?" she asked, with a little smile.
"She's nice," I replied.
"Let me..." she started talking, but stopped. Then, with a little smile, she knelt at my feet and started opening my pants. I gently pushed her away. She ended up sitting on her ass with her arms out behind her to lean on.She looked up at me, confused.
We're pretty comfortable together again now, but I've never let her touch my cock with her mouth. But I think about it. |
7,834 | Seven's Revenge | "It's time," Seven said to B'Elanna.
"One moment, Seven." B'Elanna continued to work at her console in engineering.
"I have only reserved the holodeck for one hour. We must go now or we will lose it." She grabbed B'Elanna by the arm and began pulling her out of engineering. B'Elanna brought this on herself. She insisted Seven take more leisure time, and since the strip Blackjack game, Seven continued to ask her for help with recreation.
Both arrived into an empty holodeck. Seven looked up.
"Computer, run B'Elanna Exercise program A-4, include Seven of Nine modification R." B'Elanna's exercise program was not aerobics or treadmills, but a rocky, hilly terrain area where she fought several holograms in basic combat. She introduced it to Seven shortly after the Blackjack game, and Seven kept insisting she could make it better, obviously she felt she had now.
"So what are the modifications?" B'Elanna asked.
"Simple, similar to before, but hits are scored differently. This modification allows us to fight each other in total safety to our bodies."
"Doesn't sound too fun." B'Elanna knew the reason one-on-one combat was not challenging was because of the safety protocols on the deck forced the hologram weapon to pass through harmlessly any person it struck. It was against ship's regulations to use real weapons.
B'Elanna removed her engineering short jacket to reveal her standard duty jumpsuit. One piece from neck to foot, gray, it was accented by her yellow undershirt/mock turtleneck. This one was short-sleeved.
Seven grabbed the holodeck-generated batala and flung it toward B'Elanna's bare wrist.
"Shzzzzeeeettttt…/..Whoosh" it passed completely through. B'Elanna was left rubbing her still connected wrist.
"Hey, that hurt!"
"The blade will cause a slight discomfort whenever it strikes the skin, but no permanent damage will be sustained. If the blow is not sufficient enough to cut through, it will remain in place until removed. So will the discomfort." B'Elanna thought she could make out a smirk on Seven's face.
Seven had her typical silver form-fitting catsuit on. Secretly, all the men on Voyager loved it. Her fantastic figure constantly made heads turn.
The fight began. Each warrior testing each other's blade and technique. A lot of clanking from the blades striking, and for more than 10 minutes, no one scored. Then B'Elanna dropped her guard. Her Batala dropped, and Seven took a clean shot to her shoulder area.
"Shzzzzeeeettttt…." B'Elanna winced in pain as Seven pulled it out. It only cut down about 3 inches. B'Elanna reached up to rub her sore shoulder to discover a surprise.
"My uniform, it's ripped." While the blade made no lasting mark on her body, the uniform around it was cut just as if from a real blade.
"Interesting," Seven said. B'Elanna stepped back, she thought about stopping it, but remembered she won the last 5 times they did this. She was clearly the better fighter, Or so she thought.
More clanking, a few near misses, then B'Elanna's turn.
"Shzzzzeeeetttt…./….Whoosh" Seven's arm was exposed, and B'Elanna cut cleanly through just above the elbow. The severed sleeve slid down, and Seven was forced to remove it.
"Nice one." Seven too felt the discomfort but continued.
Part II
More hits were scored, nothing major, simple strikes and scrapes, the worst being a cut to Seven's right leg. Then B'Elanna took a gamble, she would strike center, then up, then back to the exposed center, a classic move. Seven knew the move and prepared for it. Instead of a full counter to the up move, she parried it and spun B'Elanna's blade, forcing her to release one hand. Seven spun around completely and swiped for the center. "Shzzzzeeeettttt…./….Whoosh." Seven's blade passed cleanly across B'Elanna's hips and out her right side. B'Elanna stood stunned as the bottom of her uniform fell to her ankles.
"Why, Lieutenant, I don't believe those are standard-issue undergarments." B'Elanna turned beet red. She stood there virtually naked from the waist down. Exposed was a bright yellow pair of lacy, see-through string panties. They hung just low enough on her hips to be missed by the strike. Her red pubic hair showed through prominently.
"That's it." She was fired up now. The Klingon blood boiled between her veins. B'Elanna kicked off the useless bottoms and attacked Seven with tremendous vigor. As she fought, her ass wiggled, coercing the lacy material to work its way between her firm ass cheeks.
Clang, clang, Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, clang shzzzzzeeeeettttt, whoosh, brought both legs exposed on Seven. B'Elanna skillfully used the blade to rip apart each leg, reducing the catsuit bottom to a pair of short shorts. Seven did not allow B'Elanna to continue. She immediately slashed back, cutting into the center of B'Elanna's midsection, and a few pieces of fabric fell to the ground, exposing her belly button. Both stood back to catch their breaths.
B'Elanna bent down and adjusted her bright yellow lace panties. They were her only covering below her waist. Her red pubic hair had penetrated the lace material quite easily. She ran her fingers around the material, pulling it from her crack. The pubic hair was no longer protruding from the front now. She knew they would return to the embarrassing state once they started again. Seven was examining the remains of her silver catsuit as well. Her legs were completely exposed, as were parts of her midsection and one arm. The two women warriors prepared themselves once again.
Clang, clang, whoosh, clang. The noise was deafening, then B'Elanna saw an opportunity. She hit Seven's blade down and sliced straight up, hoping to catch her midsection. Seven was aware of this move and immediately straightened up. Seven did not calculate on her enormous assets. Her DD breasts were in B'Elanna's line of slice. Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, the silvery material from around her tits fell to the ground. Seven did not like the feeling. For the first time, her incredible boobs were freed for B'Elanna to see. B'Elanna could not help but notice how firm they were, especially for their size. She also discovered the nipples were erect. Seven just stared at her chest for a moment. She was mortified, she tried not to show it.
B'Elanna did not allow her to rest for long. After the momentary pause to admire her handiwork, she continued to slice into Seven's uniform. Seven's shock over the exposure caused her to drop her guard once again. Shzzzzeeeetttt, whoosh, B'Elanna's blade cut down from Seven's side onto her crotch. The left third of her outfit fell to the ground. Seven actually blushed. The remainder of her outfit clung onto one leg and up to one arm. Her clit was exposed completely. Seven put her hand between her legs for a moment, but not before B'Elanna got a direct look. She was shaved completely!
"I didn't know Borgs shaved down there," B'Elanna grinned.
"We, um, it's an experiment." B'Elanna didn't buy it, but she let Seven have her fantasy. Besides, it would make a good story later in the officer's mess.
Clanging sounds began again. Seven struck high, forcing Belana to raise her blade to block. Then with an exposed midsection, Seven kicked B'Elanna, and she fell to the ground. Shocked, B'Elanna had never seen Seven use a move like that. She was impressed. That did not last for long. Seven stabbed the blade down and struck B'Elanna in the chest. B'Elanna felt a sharp pain from the simulation as Seven pulled back. As she pulled the blade out, Seven twisted it and, therefore, the material from the top of the jumpsuit as well. She jerked back like a fisherman reeling in a catch. Rippppppppp! B'Elanna's whole top came completely off. Mock turtleneck and all. Seven smiled as she looked down at B'Elanna.
Lying there in the dust, B'Elanna now was clad not only in a pair of micro bright yellow lace panties and matching bra, which was equally as miniscule. Her large brown nipples were very visible through it. For a moment, Seven admired what she saw. She secretly wished she had smaller tits. Hers kept getting in the way when she crawled through Jeffrey's Tubes.
Part III
As B'Elanna stood, her bra fell to the ground.It seems an earlier cut by Seven had snapped the back. Her breasts were now exposed. As she dove toward Seven, they bounced nicely. Seven's great tits did the same. In the flash of a second, B'Elanna got her revenge. The cut was completed, straight across Seven's midsection, then up to the shoulder. The remnants of the catsuit fell to the deck. Now totally naked, Seven actually did blush. There was no hiding her shaved pussy or enormous DD breasts. She bowed her head, defeated.
"Interesting addition," B'Elanna said with respect. Both ladies' clothes were in tattered ruins. Seven was standing there totally naked, B'Elanna in just her bright yellow lace panties. "Now what do we do for clothes?" B'Elanna laughed. Surprisingly, so did Seven.
"Here," Seven opened a gym bag and threw a duty jumpsuit to B'Elanna. "You can wear this. The captain has been after me for a while to wear it, but I don't believe you would fill out my silver suit." She was right - at best, B'Elanna was a B cup, maybe pushing a C, but definitely not a DD.
Seven bent down, placing each leg in her replacement catsuit. As she bent over, B'Elanna could not help but notice a little excess moisture between Seven's legs. Lifting the suit up each leg, it tightly conformed to her toned body. Wiggling slightly, she worked it over her incredibly firm ass. Then, sliding each arm into each sleeve, her DD breasts hung over the top of the silver material for an instant. Seven pulled it up and over her shoulders, once again concealing her superior body. "Could you zip me up, please?" B'Elanna walked behind her and grabbed the zipper, pulling it from the top of Seven's butt crack to her neck and fastening the collar snap.
"Don't you wear underwear?"
"Why, no. I don't need the support," B'Elanna swore she could make out a little ego in Seven's voice.
"I don't know why you wear those impractical underclothes."
"When you get a boyfriend, you'll understand," B'Elanna said quietly.
"What was that?" Seven did not hear her too well.
"Never mind. I'll explain later."
B'Elanna finished dressing in the jumpsuit and her short engineering jacket. Seven grabbed the gym bag. "After you," Seven allowed the doors to open and patted B'Elanna on the back as she readjusted the gym bag on her shoulder. The two walked to the turbolift and entered. As the lift progressed, B'Elanna spoke.
"I enjoyed that, perhaps another round sometime?"
"I would enjoy that also," Seven said. The lift doors opened, and B'Elanna stepped out.
"My stop." As she stepped out, the comm signal rang.
"Doctor to Seven."
"Seven here."
"Are you finished yet? I need that back."
"Sorry, doctor." Seven reached out to B'Elanna and grabbed a device attached to the back of her collar. It was the Doctor's mobile holo-emitter. As the doors shut, B'Elanna turned quickly. Her clothes dissolved around her. She was left standing there wearing only her short engineering jacket, which was barely covering her breasts, and bright yellow lacy panties, with red pubic hair poking through. She gasped.
The doors of the turbolift opened again. This time, inside were Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. They scanned the red-faced B'Elanna's body for a moment. Then, both walked right past her. Without looking back, Janeway commented, "Why, Lieutenant, I don't believe those are standard-issue undergarments." |
6,599 | Four | "Come! I have to show you," said Peg, pulling on my arm as soon as Larry and I had walked in the front door. She wasn't indicating Larry--just me. I glanced at him, but gave in, following Peg. I didn't see any of the other husbands around, and briefly felt guilty about abandoning Larry to Shannon and Denise. He hadn't even really wanted to come: I could tell. Well, at least he'd enjoy *looking* at Shannon. Men generally do.
"What is it?" I asked as Peg led me to the kitchen, then down the basement stairs. Dinner at Shannon's: we'd gotten this idea one Saturday when the four of us had gone out for lunch. A chance to drag...I mean *get* our husbands to a nice dinner, and Shannon could show off her cooking. I'd only been to Shannon's house once before, and was still taking it all in: she does have a way with decor.
Once in the basement, we turned a corner. I gasped: in front of us were three naked men!
They were standing, tied, blindfolded and gagged. It was the husbands. "What do you think?" whispered Peg into my ear. I stared. They just stood there and I realized they were tied by the neck to the ceiling so they couldn't sit down or even move around very much.
"Peg, what's going on?" I whispered in her ear, confused. As well as shocked.
"Isn't it great?" she whispered back. *Great?* Was *that* the word to describe this? What was I going to do?
This was the last thing I expected to find at Shannon's: come to a dinner party; find *this*, whatever it was. What was Larry going to think of all this? "Peg," I whispered. "This is *strange*. Are they OK?"
"Sure! They love it," came the returned whisper. I looked at them. They just stood there. "Come on," she said, leading me back upstairs.
Somehow I was embarrassed at those men possibly hearing me. I kept my voice down: "Peg, this is too weird. We've got to go."
"What!? You just got here: this is our dinner together."
"Larry won't like this!" What *would* Larry think? I had no idea what he would think, but I had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be that my friends and their husbands were totally crazy. Which is about what I was thinking at the time.
"Oh, I don't know about that: guys *love* this sort of thing." What did she mean by that? Larry would *like* visiting three couples with the three men bound, naked? Those guys *like* this? I supposed they must or how did they let themselves get *into* their situation. "Look!" she added, still quietly.
She'd led me to the opening to the family room and I stopped, staring at the scene in front of me. Shannon and Larry were staring at each other. Shannon was sitting in the middle of a table, her legs spread apart, her heels on the table, her elbows resting on her knees. She wore rather tight-fitting pants that emphasized her long, slender limbs and her slender, athletic body. She was staring straight at Larry, looking very serious.
And he was standing in the middle of the room, staring right back at her! Neither of them moved when we came into view. Denise just stood leaning against the wall opposite Peg and me, watching them.
Peg was indicating that I should be quiet. No one said anything, but no one seemed inclined to either. The air was definitely very tense. Shannon moved just a little, and even though it looked like she was just adjusting, I realized that her body movements were *very* sexy. She smiled at Larry. "You like what you see, don't you?"
She was obviously talking to Larry, but he didn't answer: he just stared. I could see why he was intrigued by her, but I was shocked. He seemed to be oblivious to everything but her! "Don't you?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said in a low voice.
She smiled in response, but I didn't quite like her smile. I looked away. I happened to see into the dining room, noticing that Shannon had gone all out: good china, the works. And I realized that there were only four places set! Peg touched me and indicated to me to watch again, silently.
Shannon put her legs down over the edge of the table, then stood. She moved so gracefully, like a cat. "You want me."
"Yes."
"You don't care about *anything* but *me*, do you?"
No answer.
She went on: "Right now: you care *just* about me."
"Yes."
She paused. Then she said: "Take off your shirt: right here." After another short pause, she said: "For me."
He still just stared at her. She smiled again. "You *said* you want me. Do it. Right now. Right in front of your wife. For me." She seemed almost gleeful as she mentioned me.
He did it. He started unbuttoning his shirt! She giggled a little and said "So much for loyalty!" At the same time, she ran her hands up and down her own body. Her outfit was so tight.
He had the shirt off. She moved slightly closer. "Strip," she said. I noticed that Denise was holding handcuffs and a gag and other such things.
He did it. He stood there naked. "Good boy," she said, looking him up and down deliberately. She motioned with her head to Denise without actually looking at her. Denise came up behind Larry and cuffed his hands together. He still just stood there, staring at Shannon!
"I told you he'd like it," whispered Peg in my ear. Then she pulled me back from the door while Shannon and Denise led Larry out and toward the basement. I watched them disappear down the stairs. Larry'd never looked at me.
"It's just us girls, tonight," said Peg. Then she said "Come," was dragging me again. She led me upstairs and into a bedroom. She opened a jewelry box. "Shannon wants us to wear her jewelry." She pulled out a string of pearls. "Shannon's wearing this. Try it on."
She put it around my neck and attached it. *Larry naked in the basement, I'm trying on a pearl necklace.* The necklace was beautiful. Shannon and Denise appeared at the door. "Here, try this," said Shannon, having picked out a necklace with a locket. It seemed old-fashioned, but it was seeming old-fashioned just to wear any sort of necklace. Peg was wearing a gold chain and the two of us went back downstairs. I thought about Larry in the basement. What did he think of all this?How could he stare at Shannon like that, right in front of me?
The table was absolutely fabulous: everything set to perfection. Denise came down, wearing two fine gold chains around her neck. Then Shannon walked in.
She was naked. Well, she had on the pearls and heels: absolutely nothing else. Not even rings.
"Looks nice with the pearls," commented Denise, smiling. What a body Shannon had! She told us we could sit and went in the kitchen bringing out the entrée.
Denise started taking off her blouse!
She had no bra on and sat down wearing nothing above her skirt except for the two gold chains! Shannon had gone back into the kitchen. Walking around the house, naked in heels. "Want to?" asked Peg, looking at me, her fingers on the buttons of her blouse. She must have seen my answer in my face, because she immediately gave up on the idea and sat down, indicating that I should do the same.
Well, I got used to it, sort of, and we were drinking wine, gossiping. Once in a while, my eyes would stray to Shannon's naked chest and I'd remember the guys downstairs, but it was amazing how I seemed to adjust to the whole thing.
The meal was amazing: Shannon must have been planning it for a week--the dessert was heavenly. Afterwards they said it was time for the guys to have some fun and Shannon brought out a leather strap.
I stared at the way the guys just stood there and took it, not seeming to want to escape or anything. We left the four of them lying face-down on the floor, having removed their handcuffs and told them to get dressed again. By the time they came up, Shannon and Denise were dressed too.
Larry and I were silent, walking back to the car. What I'd watched him do! What *I'd* done! Once in the car, he grabbed me and kissed me! He was so passionate I couldn't believe it! We never said a word the whole way home, and we made love over and over that night, not a word between us.
And that was our first such get-together. Now it's amazing to see Larry getting excited as we get ready to go to these things: he doesn't say anything, but I can tell. And afterwards he is *always* ready. As I am: I'm always ready for more, even after our post-dinner *upstairs* activities. I'm no longer so shy at dinner, and Shannon's let me wear the pearls. I don't have her body, but I *love* those pearls.
Afterwards we always start by adjourning to Shannon's bedroom. Peg and I like to form our legs into a scissors around each other's sex and rub ourselves together. We can sit there on the bed while we do it, resting on our arms, and look at each other's faces. Shannon will tongue Denise's nipples: Denise just *loves* that, and will come from just from that. I think Shannon would like to be licked *down there*, but none of us has ventured into *that* yet. She just gets Denise to finger her. |
7,672 | Julie | "Well, I suppose we all do sometimes," Martha had asked me if I felt my life was in a rut.
"No, I'm serious, Julie. You don't seem to get excited about anything anymore."
"Well, life is...comfortable with Dave. I mean...we're getting along very nicely."
"You've got to *think* about this, Julie." That was all we said on the subject, but if you want to know the truth, she did make me think. I began to wonder if things could be a bit less routine in my life.
The next time we met, Martha was back on my case again: "Did you think about the possibility of getting out of the doldrums?"
"Oh, Martha, you exaggerate, but yes, I did think about it a bit."
"But you don't know what to do, do you?"
"Well, I haven't really thought about it too much as of yet."
"Hmm,...I know! Come with me!" Suddenly she was up and putting on her jacket! And motioning me to come along.
"Come where?" I asked.
"Just come along. You're being stodgy again." She was handing me my jacket. I guess I'm a pushover--I came along.
Once we were in her car and driving across town, I had more time to wonder what was up: "Where are we going?"
"I know just the thing to spice up your life," was her uninformative reply. Well, it *did* inform me to be on my guard.
"And what is *that*?"
"I know this guy! You'll..."
I cut her off short. "A guy!? Turn this car around!"
"No, listen! I *swear* this is exactly what you need!"
"What are you talking about!? You want me to *cheat* on Dave?"
"Oh, Julie, you don't need to be so uptight. We'll see him and... well Dave need never know. Just wait 'til you find out what he's like!"
"Martha! *Please* turn the car around! Uh, do you... *do it* with this guy?"
"Ah, ha! Julie gets curious! I swear he is exactly what you need. Different than Dave."
"What's wrong with Dave?"
"Nothing, Julie dear. But this guy will do things to you that Dave never will. And you can let him because you won't be seeing him every day."
"Things?"
"Oh, you'll find out! With your rear."
"*Martha!*"
"He'll make you *love* it. Wait and see."
What had I got myself into? We were turning into a driveway! My heart was beating like no tomorrow. I made myself take a deep breath and relax. I'd just say no. They weren't going to *rape* me. Would they? I tried to suppress the uncomfortable doubt.
We walked up to the door. I guess my curiosity got the best of me... I wanted to *see* this guy. Martha was doing it with him? Her rear? I *had* to know more.
A woman answered the door. Martha didn't seem perturbed at all and drew me into the front hall.
"Is your husband here?" Martha asked. She was craning her neck to look into the other rooms.
"Who is this?" the woman asked in return.
"Oh, this is Julie," replied Martha.
"And you brought her so Gary could do her ass?" I couldn't believe we were having this conversation! "Gary will be pleased! Yes, indeed!"
I just stared! And there was more to stare at than the conversation: the woman had reached out and touched Martha, on the chest! And Martha just stood there. "And did *you* come to take Gary's cock in your ass too, Martha?" Martha glanced at me and looked at the woman, but didn't pull away! The woman had run her hand down Martha's body to her skirt and lifted it so she could slip her hand under it. "*You* want his cock in your ass, don't you, Martha? You're not answering me, are you?"
"I...," Martha was tongue-tied. The woman had her hand under Martha's skirt and was obviously using it, and was unbuttoning Martha's blouse with her other hand!
The woman moved closer to Martha, so their faces were only inches apart. "You're going to let Julie watch, aren't you Martha?" Martha's blouse was already off and the woman had unhooked her bra and was undoing her skirt! Martha just stood there with her mouth open. "Julie's going to watch you beg him for it, Martha. Beg to suck it. Beg to take it in your ass." She had Martha nude except for her shoes, and slipped around behind her. She continued her talking over Martha's shoulder. "You *like* it in your ass, don't you Martha?" While saying *like*, she had jammed fingers right into Martha's behind.
"Yes," came Martha's reply in a breathy whisper. She no longer met my eyes. But I stared and stared. I thought about what I was going to see. There was no way I was going to walk out. |
7,078 | Sandra and Ana.....an experience to be told | "My life is in shambles! I fucking want someone to love, dammit!"
Her face was so kind-looking. You know the kind of look that makes you feel soft in their presence? Sandra's eyes were full of tears. She was a lonely single mother of twins trying to make it in life. Working a job that paid enough to survive if the cat wasn't hungry.
"I am so fucking sick and tired of finding losers!" she said, staring at me. We sat face to face on the old couch that sagged on the back patio. The sun was just hovering over the frail tree tops. The heavy tree limbs swayed as the summer breeze swirled in and out at our feet, moving grass trimmings in little whirlwinds.
"Well, maybe you need to quit looking at losers in bars," I said in a gentle tone.
"Easy for you to say, you are never looking for anyone!"
We sat there and drank our iced tea in silence. Sandra had been someone I knew for what seemed like forever. I loved who she was and how she thought. She was pushing forty and felt like she was aging alone. This was the first time I noticed her beauty. Her hair draped her naked shoulders in colors of browns, like the fall. Her mouth was perfectly shaped. I loved her smile. Sandra's eyes were a vivid, jealous green.
As she went on and on about her absent love life, I watched her movements. Graceful she was, like a mature ballerina in full bloom. Her hands danced in the sunshine as she cursed each lover before the last. Her breasts were small and ripe. I felt as though I should have reached out and touched them.
"You always have masturbation," I said, interrupting her in mid-sentence.
"What? Where did that come from?" she asked, as her voice softened as she waited for an answer.
"I don't know, I always hear women talking about how great masturbation is." I blushed. I could feel the blood moving into my cheeks, filling them with warmth.
"What do you mean? Hearing women talk about it??? Don't you masturbate?"
I moved my body towards its center and felt as though I would crumble at any minute. I was so embarrassed. I just let her know that I didn't do this. I had tried many times to get it right, but somehow never got the gist of it. I felt foolish with my hand in such a place, and worse, alone!
"Well..." I said, hesitating.
"Well, what?" she paused, trying to catch my eyes.
"I never got it right, so I gave up!" I laughed an uneasy laugh. I crossed my legs and had the major physical defense thing going on by now.
"Let me teach you, Ana," she said with a soft, pitiful smile. Okay, was she joking or what? Teach me? How the hell could she teach me to masturbate? Geez, I was a 28-year-old woman...
"Okay, teach me, Sandra, tell me all the great secrets," I said with great sarcasm.
Just then, she put her hand on top of mine and squeezed. She stood in front of me and began to undress. First, she twisted her locks on her head, driving a pencil through it with care. Then I watched her untie the small blue bows that rested over her shoulders that held her dress up.
"Look at me, Ana, feel my soul. Be a part of who I am," she whispered. Now I knew she wasn't playing with me. She was serious, and I was pleased. Her eyes locked with mine as she untied the right bow first. Holding her dress to her chest, she untied the left bow with the other hand. Still holding her dress, she held her hand out to me, I placed mine in hers, and followed her inside.
I watched her move as we walked inside. Sandra's hips swayed from left to right. She was a thin woman with great shape. Her back had spatters of freckles here and there that made me incredibly aroused. I traced her spine from her neck to her panty line with my middle finger. She giggled like a schoolgirl. As she led me into the bathroom, I became a bit puzzled. I thought we would end up in the bedroom. I sat on the commode and watched as she lit a candle. She smiled. I smiled. Then Sandra turned to the bathtub and began running the water.
"Mildly hot, not too hot. You never want it too hot," she said as she looked over her shoulder. Still holding her light blue printed dress to her chest, she stood in front of me on the most beautiful maroon rug. I had a bad habit of looking down when I became nervous and studied the details of this rug. "Up here, look at me, watch me, try to learn from this, Ana."
"Okay. I am a little nervous. I don't think I have ever been so intimate with a woman."
"Oh, keep your eyes open, it will happen one day. I can tell. You are open, but you need someone to lead you," she said as her hand touched my shoulder.
Sandra stepped back and released her dress. The soft pastel material slid down her body and gathered around her ankles. Her breasts were incredible. I looked down.
"Please don't look away, Ana, be with me, try to feel me with your soul."
"Okay," I said, starting at her neatly pink-polished toenails, then up her legs, passing her panties and up to her breasts. Aah, her breasts. Small in form but so perfectly created. Her nipples were large and stuck out, inviting my warm mouth to caress them. But I stayed still. Her skin was unblemished and taut for her age. Creamy white and soft-looking. Our eyes met. Time stood still.
"I am feeling kind of weird here, Sandra," I said, trying to find an escape.
"It's because this is new to you, just relax," she said in that sensual, soothing voice I have heard before.
Sandra ran her fingers across her tummy, then, slipping her fingertips under the elastic band of cotton panties, she slid them off, slowly, real slow. I thought I would go mad, until I saw the blonde fur that was so neatly manicured. She watched me squirm on the commode, knowing she was making me crazy. Then she stepped her feet apart. With one hand, she slid two fingers across the lips of her sex, not entering, just teasing. I felt my own sex begin to grow with wet fluid. I wanted to touch my own sex, or touch hers. Her sex was so beautiful that I imagined eating an overripe peach when the juices drip down the sides of your face. I wanted to run my tongue up the slit and find the place where she would scream my name out to the gods. She smiled and turned, stepping into the warm water. Her well-shaped legs draped the sides of this old, discolored porcelain Victorian bathtub. Then she let the water drain out a bit. I was confused.
"Watch me, Ana, this is the heavenly part of masturbation, or cheating," she laughed.
She leaned forward, turning the water back on, adjusted the flow and temperature, then slid down, slamming her ass against the foot of the tub. The water flow hit her sex with some amount of force. I was dizzy, looking at the black and white tiles, and counting the shampoo bottles in a frenzy. I was so aroused.
"Okay," she said, looking back at me, "I am going to do my thing, and you watch me. If you want, you can come closer."
"Okay," I said, not moving a muscle.
Her hands moved about her tummy, touching and gliding. Her nipples were erect and sat on top of her like Hershey's chocolate, only in a white, creamy color. Then she opened her sex. I had to be closer. I moved towards the tub and knelt next to her. She smiled and touched my cheek. I was lost, and she knew it. I saw pinks and mauves, like an artist had painted the soft tissues lining her sex. The water hit her clit and moved it back and forth as she slipped her finger deep in her sex. I wanted to taste her. Her moans were light, and I knew she was climbing with intent. I moved my hands towards the water, her eyes opened. Her hand moved around mine as she moved it towards her sex. I cupped her sex just so I could feel her heat and her passion. I began a soft, gentle rub along the length of her front side. Then I stood and bent over the tub and tasted her. The water splashed on the floor and drenched my clothes as it hit my head and ran down my neck. She moved back a bit, and I swirled my tongue in a feather-light flick. Her voice became deeper as she moaned for me to move faster. Her hands around my neck and the water flowing was a beautiful sight. I grabbed her legs and turned her around, first entering my tongue in her sex, then drawing it along her clit. My fingertips twirled her nipples between my fingertips when I heard the cry.The cry of orgasm. The satisfaction that I had wanted to feel all the years of my life.
I toweled her off that night and pampered her like a queen. I poured her a cup of red wine and fed her grapes. We didn't say much to each other that night. It wasn't about being woman and woman, it was about spirit with spirit. Being one with one another.
She and I are still very good friends and are both very sensual. We never speak of that summer night, nor do we ask ourselves why we did it. But sometimes when I am in my garden, I can smell her sex among the fragrance of flowers that grow there.
1997 |
8,173 | Tomboy | "I'm a little old to be banished to summer camp," I said to Spike. Spike was my best friend, had been since I was eight. "I mean, I'm fifteen." I was sitting on a branch in an old apple tree, the last one in the orchard. I had my back propped against the tree trunk. She was lying on the branch below me.
Spike said, "Wish my folks would send me to camp, Kip." Her real name was Danica, but I never called her that, just like she never called me Clifford.
"Yeah," I said. "Right."
"No, really. First of all, you're gonna be doing canoeing and stuff. That's like free training."
"Training?"
"You know, for the Olympics." Spike was a natural athlete, not like me. I was a two-left-feet guy, and no team would have me. Spike occasionally talked about trying pro sports, but usually she came back to her other dream, being a mechanic on Formula Ones. "They wouldn't send me, though. They'd be afraid it would just make me worse."
"You go instead of me." I banged my head gently against the tree trunk, making the leaves rustle. "Maybe we could just send you on the bus and you could say you were me."
"They'd notice in the shower. And when I got my period."
I stared at her. "I didn't know you got your period already." To be honest, I never thought of Spike as a *girl.*
She imitated me: "I'm fifteen, for Christ's sake," and she reached up to whack my foot.
"I wish you were coming. I'm not gonna know *anybody* there. I wish I knew why my parents are doing this."
She said, "It's obvious, Kip. They think you're weird. You spend most of your time reading, and the rest of your time you spend with a psychotic tomboy." She said it like she was proud of being one. Spike was all limbs and joints, about as feminine as a plank. She kept her black hair short and she had an oval face with a long jaw. She didn't look particularly like she was a guy or a girl. "They want to make you normal."
"Great," I moaned.
"Look, your folks aren't exactly thrilled about me."
"They don't mind you."
She snorted. "They think I'm an unhealthy influence. Your dad's not a reading kind of guy, you know? He's probably worried I'm a dyke and I'll turn you into a fag." She plucked at her T-shirt. Today's was Motorhead.
"What's a dyke?"
She dropped off the tree, agile as an ape. "It's what a Dutch boy sticks his finger in." She picked a green apple off the ground and shied it at me. It stung me on the shoulder. "A lesbian! Don't be a knob."
"I'm not a knob," I said. "You're a knob." She hit me three more times before I got down from the tree, but I managed to drag her down to the ground and we wrestled a while before we both started laughing.She undid the button on her cutoffs and eased them over her ass, dropping them to the floor. She stepped out of them and kicked them under the bed. Her underpants were peach, with flowers on them. They would have looked very out of place on the old Spike; I had no idea if they suited the new Spike. We were making up new rules.
"Now you," she said. I undid the button on my jeans, and my jeans didn't fall until I gave them a shove. My wallet made a thump as it landed on the floor. I went to step out of them, like Spike had, but my feet got tangled, and I had to grab her shoulder for support. She grabbed me back. Her shoulder was smooth and hot, and the strap of her bra felt a mile wide under my palm. I pulled up my foot and turned the leg of my jeans inside out.
"What a knob," she said, but there wasn't any annoyance in it. She knelt down in front of me, her face only inches from where my cock was making a circus tent of my white cotton jockey shorts, and pulled my jeans from my feet. I had goosebumps all along my legs. She ran her hands up the outsides of my thighs and rested them on my hips.
"Go ahead," I told her. "Take off my..." I couldn't quite say "underpants" or "shorts." I wished I was wearing something sexy. I wished I were a hunk.
I thought maybe she'd hesitate, but not Spike. "Okay." She grabbed the waistband and pulled straight out and then delicately uncovered my hard-on. She'd caught her lower lip between her teeth, and I heard her suck in her breath. Then I blushed because I'd thought the word "suck."
Finally, she said, "Cool." That was so old-Spike that I relaxed, and my cock bounced a bit. She grabbed it, and I started like when you're really into a book and someone interrupts you. She looked up at me, sort of bewildered. "Sorry. Did that hurt?"
"No, I was just..." She rubbed her hand along the length, then started to pull it in different directions, testing how stiff it was. Her hand slipped to the end of my cock, making the head hard and purple and smooth, then slid back to the base, touching my sparse blond pubic hair. It felt great.
"It feels neat," she said. "It feels hot."
"Your hand's cold."
"Oh," she said, and then, "I'll warm it up," and she breathed on my cock, short hot breaths, like she was panting. Like she'd run a mile or...or something. My balls tightened. I could feel myself getting ready to come. I tried not to clench my butt. "I like how you smell," she told me.
"Uh, Spike?" I really didn't want to come in front of her.
"Your balls are really neat. Kinda--compact." She traced her fingers along my balls. "How do you sit down without hurting yourself?" Her other hand slid over the head of my cock, and she stroked the underside with her thumb, smearing something wet.
"Spike, I'm gonna--"
She started moving her hand faster, and I groaned as I came. A shot of jism hit her hair beside her ear, and she watched, fascinated, as I shot a second and third which hit her shoulder and breast. She kept pumping my cock and squeezed out a bit more, which ran over her fingers.
"*Very* neat." She opened her hand and looked at my come smeared across her fingers. "Well, messy." She chuckled and sucked one knuckle clean. "It tastes okay."
"Spike!"
"Well, it's not gross. I read some women think it's gross."
My cock was softening. She took it between her thumb and forefinger and leaned forward with her mouth open; just as I could feel her breath on it again, she looked up at me and said, "You don't mind, do you, Kip?" She looked very serious, and I suddenly wondered if I did mind.
I know that sounds stupid. I mean, I was looking forward to the first time I ever really fucked a girl and all that, but I never thought it would be *Spike.* Spike was something permanent in my life, and I thought our friendship would never change. But it had. Spike had just become something, someone, totally different, and I didn't know what and I didn't know what was allowed between us.
It had become different the moment she grew tits, though I hadn't known about it. I killed the chance for it to go back to what it was when I came through the window. All we could do was something new, and hope we liked it as much.
I touched her mouth with my fingertip. Her lips were soft and warm and wet. I wondered what it was going to be like kissing her. "Don't be a knob," I told her, and I kissed her.
It wasn't gross. |
9,788 | FRESH PRODUCE | "Ma'am, are you okay?"
Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. For a brief instant, she thought she had died and gone to heaven.
"May I help you? Do you need medical assistance?"
As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased by ringlets of jet-black hair.
The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was -- lying flat on her "ass."
"I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured.
He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet. The entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk.
"What happened?" he asked.
She could feel her face becoming beet-red. This was surely the most embarrassing moment of her life, but Thank Heavens she wasn't going to be on "Candid Camera." She hoped.
"Can't be for certain. One never knows why one falls. I am known to be a klutz." Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace during her moment of pathetic self-pity and humiliation.
"Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!" he replied.
His response didn't help at all. It just increased her desire to cry.
"Um... that was pretty lame, sorry. Look, are you sure you're okay? Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something...you could file a lawsuit if you're hurt."
"No, no, I am fine -- really. The only thing bruised here is my ego." She refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her well-padded, but shapely derriere had cushioned the fall.
Now it was his turn not to laugh.
"Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliché City! Now we're even. One-to-one. Tit-for-Tat."
"Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most cliché place of all. This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself. Hi. I am Henley."
"Hi, Henley, I am Nora. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Nora. Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate milk?"
"I feel like a complete idiot. A well-educated, mature woman drinking chocolate milk," Nora blushed.
"Hey, I drink it too. Man, I still eat Pop Tarts." He glowed at the thought. Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars.
"Pop Tarts!" I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers," Nora laughed.
"Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added.
Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. "I ate that every morning for ten years." She paused. "No wonder my growth was stunted."
It had occurred to her that Henley was towering above her. She was at least a foot shorter. He must have been 6'2", maybe more. She felt like Sprout next to the Jolly Green Giant.
This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans.
"Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked.
"There is a God," Nora replied.
"Pardon me?" Henley looked confused.
"Nothing...I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir. If you don't mind being seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt."
Henley laughed. A good hearty, fiber enriched laugh. "Not at all -- my pleasure."
They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side.
"Soup." Nora stopped.
"Soup, uh, soup is good. Soup is good for you."
"Yes, that is what they say. Hmmm. I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora said.
"You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath.
Aisle Six beckoned.
"Fruit." Henley stopped. "Canned fruit."
"Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches. Pineapples, I can deal with pineapples too. I like the ones shaped like little rings."
"Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly...used to stick my tongue through the hole."
"I beg your pardon?" Nora's eyes were wider than ever.
"The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?"
"No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls. So, Henley, do you live around here?"
"Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I do. Live right down the road at the St. Tammany Apartments."
"NO WAY!" she exclaimed.
"Way."
"I live there - so you can't possibly."
"Why? Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?"
"Too much chocolate milk in one place. Maybe we should lay off of it."
Henley laughed again. Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by the depth of his dimples. He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of years.
He could have been reading her mind. "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind me asking."
"Fifty-four!" Nora exclaimed.
"You're fifty-four? Wow. You look fabulous. I am hitting the chocolate milk again tomorrow."
Nora giggled. "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can. Not bad."
"No, not bad for a can of peas. Ever notice that frozen peas always look a funny shade of green?"
"I'm thirty-eight."
"Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her.
"Very funny. Don't let me forget the coffee."
"Yes, Ma'am." Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice. "I'm thirty-nine."
"Wow. Marvelous. Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of saltines and tossed it into her basket.
"Like you said, there is a God." Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into Aisle Seven.
"I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked. Henley suppressed the urge to complain about the absence of lubrication.
"Fresh Produce!" Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept.
"These red grapes look fabulous! Look how ripe and succulent."
"HEY MISSY! Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!"
Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air.
Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously funny.
"You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there. Looking for a REAL big one?"
"Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-subtly. Or perhaps ever-so-evidently.
"Yes, I believe I am. It's not every day you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed brunette with a chocolate covered butt -- a nice butt, I might add."
"Thank you." It was a royal flush.
"You are beautiful." Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the ground. His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one another's eyes.
Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten.
With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately on the lips. Her ice cream was beginning to melt. Any minute now it would be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear.
Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the most sensible idea in the world. But a rush of adventure had came over her. Grocery store fever.
"Okay," she said seductively. A little too seductively, she thought.
Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight.
"Where are we going?" Nora asked.
"Wanna live life, really live it?"
"Yes, I always have -- what?"
"Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato soup and overripe bananas?"
"Yes, yes!" Nora was becoming another person.
"C'mon!" He led her to the back of the store. The Meat Department.
He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop. No one was back there. It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere. Henley led her through another door.
"How do you know your way around here? Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse rate flying.
"Worked here as a teenager through high school. There is the stock room."
He pulled her into the room and shut the door. It was dark.
Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually. Nora let go and allowed her passion to take over. It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and dangerous. She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley began to unbutton the front of her dress. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue slowly down to her breasts. Nora could feel herself wanting more from him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties. Their breathing became faster and heavier.Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace.
Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartoons of chocolate chip cookies and boxes of gingersnaps. Nora's dress fell to the cement floor, as she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley's hungry eyes. The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made her as creamy as a Twinkie.
"Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed.
"Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet thighs. His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his fingers nestled deep inside her love hole. She moaned in ecstasy, then spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would walk in and see her, in all her glory.
"Oh, Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her anus with one hand and rubbed her clit with the other.
"Henley, oh, God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his tongue to dip into the exotic pudding that filled her pastry.
He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy.
"You taste like heaven."
Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth – dripping -- like ice cream on a hot summer day. He relished in it, the icing to his cake.
Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry look, as she frantically unzipped Henley's pants and freed his tortured, hard member.
"Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch. He raised his body to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Mayer Wiener.
Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a Popsicle. She sucked him hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as it dribbled everywhere else too. They kissed passionately, tasting each other's delights as though it had been catered just for them.
CLICK!
They could see the lights under the doorway.
"Hello?" a deep, older voice asked. "Anybody in there?"
Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth. She could feel her heart beating against her chest as she tried not to breathe.
"Hello? Hello?"
After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away. Close call.
They began to giggle. Their moment was gone. Like adolescents they hastily dressed, sneaked out, back to the safety of their grocery carts.
Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car. The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair. The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried.
"Henley?" Nora said.
"Yes?"
"What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right. I got carried away and . . . 'All's well that ends well.'"
He looked deep into her eyes. "Nora, I thought you wanted it."
"Yes, I mean, no.
"What? You can't say it wasn't good."
"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying... Hell, I just met you! You're a complete stranger. I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I want to do this right."
"It's okay. I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied.
"Can we start over?"
"Sure," Henley said. "Sure. You are absolutely right. I like you too and I want this to be more than just..."
"Sex?" Nora filled in the blank.
"Yeah, but you are sexy, you know. Little Miss Cantaloupes."
"Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner. No more stock room sex, at least not tonight."
"No stock room sex. I promise. It's a deal."
He began to rummage through her shopping bag.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the ground. Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants.
"We are starting from the beginning, Miss."
"No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle.
"No use crying," he repeated.
"Hi, I'm Nora." She reached out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Henley." He lightly kissed it.
"Nice to meet you," Nora said. "Very nice to meet you."
They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst out laughing.
"That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled. "The stock room? Did you really work in the stock room?"
Henley laughed. "Why yes, I did, Honey! I thought it was rather exciting! "But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!"
"Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!" Nora chimed as she got into the passenger's side of their car.
Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side.
They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands, and smiling. As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could hear an announcement on the supermarket's intercom system.
"Clean up on Aisle Two." |
9,832 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Seven | "Linda!" Jack shouted from the doorway to his office.
Linda jumped at his tone of voice.
"Yes, Mr. Conrad?"
"Get in here, I need you to take some dictation. Alice has the afternoon off."
Linda's face dropped, and she could feel a wave of sympathy from the rest of the room as she picked up her notepad and pencil and headed for the open door.
Once inside his office, it was clear to Linda that "Jack-the-Lad" was not in a very good mood.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Linda?" Jack remarked as he unzipped his flies, got his semi-erect penis out, and sat down in his high-backed swivel chair.
"Yes, sir," she agreed, almost in a whisper. Then in a slightly louder whisper, "Please, sir, don't make me do this. Please."
Jack began to stiffen a little more as he listened to her pleading.
"Get over here, Linda, come on, slut, you know where I want you."
Linda knew it was useless to beg, and reluctantly walked around the desk and fell to her knees in front of him. He was holding his prick in his hand, and when she was near enough, he grabbed her by the hair and forced himself into her mouth.
She gagged, and that only made him more irritated.
"I shall keep you here all afternoon until you do it right," he threatened, as she wiped away a tear from her eye.
"Sorry, sir," she said.
"That's better, now get on with it."
Jack relaxed back into his chair and closed his eyes.
He could feel her mouth closing around his prick, soft and moist, he thrust a little deeper. Linda had always been good at taking nearly the whole length of his shaft. She started to move rhythmically back and forward on her haunches, sometimes taking it out of her mouth to lick his balls and then the turgid length. Back into the mouth again and back into rhythm. He felt like the 'king' again. Ooh yes.
He grabbed her hair again and pulled her away when he felt near to coming. "Come on, you can tell me," he said, "you enjoy sucking cock, don't you?"
The tears started to swell in her eyes again.
"No, sir, please don't make me do this."
"I don't believe you, slut, you're too good at it. A real professional cock sucker."
He forced her head back down, and she resumed her task. Back and forth, up and down. She sensed that he was reaching a peak and dreaded what he would make her do next.
Jack knew she was reluctant to let him come in her mouth; she had always had a problem with it. So, when he could feel his fluid rising, he held onto her head to force her to take it all in her mouth.
He was damn well not going to have any more mess to clean up.
He spurted and twitched and spurted again. Linda gagged and started coughing.
"Oh, get out, you useless bitch," he said as he pushed her roughly away from him.
"Go on, get out!"
Linda crawled back to the chair where her blank notebook was, picked it up and herself, and ran out of his office. She did not stop running till she made it to the Ladies Rest Room. |
9,846 | ROLE-PLAYING NURSE AND PATIENT | "What seems to be the problem?" you ask.
"Not too sure," I reply. "I feel kind of funny all over."
"What kind of 'funny feeling'?"
I shrug. "Shaking. Trembling. Something like that, I guess."
"I see. Well, I'd better have a look at you, then. Lie down, please."
I lie face up on the table, resting my head on a small pillow put there just for the occasion.
You undo my shirt and open it. You brush my nipples with your fingers. "Any problems here?" you inquire.
"Not really," I answer.
"I see." You bend down, take one of my nipples into your mouth and suck on it, running your tongue around the tiny bud.
I groan.
"That hurt?" you ask, pulling away.
"No. Feels kind of nice."
"All right." You bend down and suck my other nipple. I moan again and squirm on the table.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, really. Just feel kind of an electric shock from my nipple to my groin when you do that."
"Oh? Really? Let's have a look..." You reach down, undo my belt, and pull down the zipper of my pants. Grabbing the waistband, you pull down my pants and my underwear. My cock lies limply on its side on my belly.
"How long has it been like this?" you ask.
"For a while now," I answer.
You pick the small thing up, turn it around so you can look at the purplish head. You run a finger over the top. A sticky liquid attaches itself to your finger.
"What's this then?" You look at your finger, then lick it. "Kind of sweet. Does this happen often?"
I nod. "Whenever I get a little aroused."
"I see. And you're aroused now?"
"A little."
You take the skin of my cock in your fingers, pull it forward over the head, then push it back down. More transparent liquid squeezes from the hole in the tip. You jerk the skin up and down a few more times, and my cock grows a little bigger.
"And now--?" you say, looking at me with a twinkle in your eye.
"A little more aroused," I reply.
Your left hand takes my cock and continues to pump it slowly. Your right hand scoops out my testicles, rolling them around between your fingers. "How do these feel?"
"Sensitive."
You bend down, take one of my balls with your lips. I feel the warmth and the wetness of your mouth, your tongue encircling the tiny globe. I moan.
You move your attention to the other testicle, feeling it also with your tongue, yet still pulling and pushing on the shaft of my cock, which has now become longer, harder, and bigger, with even more pre-cum smeared on its head.
"My--just look at how big this thing is becoming. Does it always do that?"
"Yes, especially when I get really aroused."
"Oh my!" You open your lips and cover the head with your mouth, plunging down the shaft so that the tip hits the back of your throat. The warmth and the wetness feels so good, so comforting. Your head comes up, then goes back down again, your teeth just lightly running along the flesh of the shaft. Your tongue circles the tip, poking into the tiny hole, then you run your lips sideways down the hard stem to my balls where you flick your tongue across them. Your hand grips my cock hard and jerks it up and down. Once again you engulf the head with your mouth, once again you slide down the pole.
When you remove your mouth, you continue to pump with your hand.
"How does that feel?" you ask.
"Out of this world," I respond.
"I suppose we should get some samples of whatever's in there," you say.
"Do you think it's necessary?"
"Oh, certainly. How else will we know how good you're feeling."
"Well...all right...if you say so."
"This shouldn't take long..."
Again you cover my cock head, your lips running up and down on the engorged tip, then your tongue slides around it. Your fingers grip the shaft harder, pump more strongly.
"Oooohhhh!" I cry out. You suck hungrily and continue jerking on my cock as my hips jump uncontrollably from the table. I feel my seed rushing up from the depths of my balls, sluicing up the shaft of my cock, then gushing out the tip to fill your hot mouth as you pump quickly and swallow my hot jism as fast as it spurts out.
My bucking and spewing gradually subside. You lick my cock of any excess liquids as it begins to shrink and soften.
"Are you all right now?" you inquire.
"Yes, thank you so much, nurse."
"I'm glad to hear it," you say with a big grin, "because I really need to see the doctor, now..." |
9,862 | Under Control | "This is Pauline, your new maid, Miss van Meer," said Miss Mandy, having led Paul into Gloria's magnificent apartment. He curtsied, heart pounding, now that he was once again confronted by the supreme beauty of the woman who dominated his life so utterly. Gloria, naked but for a suspender belt, was having her stockings put on by another maid.
"Thank you, Miss Mandy," she said, indicating that the overseer might depart. She gave Paul the most cursory of glances. The door closed behind Miss Mandy, and Paul stood, silent and humbly waiting, dressed in the traditional French maid's outfit of black with frilly white accessories. With a slap on the face, the other maid was dismissed from the room, and Gloria beckoned to Paul to advance. He came mincing, hip-swiveling, curtsying again with bouncing breasts under the tight black chiffon.
"Pauline..." mused Gloria. The shadow of a smile crossed her lips. "I once had a male slave called Paul. So it's quite appropriate..."
It must have been something about the look on Paul's feminized features or maybe in his eyes that made Gloria step forward and look at him more closely. There was a puzzled look on her face. It changed to a look of interest and then of fascination.
"Pauline?" she queried incredulously.
"In truth... Paul... Mistress..." said Paul in his newly acquired contralto. "But now... I am your maid... P-Pauline..."
Gloria burst into a peal of laughter. She slapped her thigh and went on laughing. It seemed to her that this was the greatest joke ever perpetrated! She rushed to the house-phone and was soon loud in her praises to Mrs. Dupont. "I know I said Miss Mandy could dress him as a woman, but I didn't expect anything as marvelous as this... Miss Mandy and Delia are to be profoundly congratulated," she said. "It's miraculous. Are you sure he hasn't been castrated? That under all this he's still got a cock on him?"
She was obviously reassured and soon returned to examine Paul in more detail. Before long, he was naked but for his high heels and corset cincher-belt. He walked, he postured, he played the woman to perfection, whilst Gloria looked on rapturously.
At last, she got up and left the room. "I am a woman... a woman..." Paul kept saying to himself. "I am Pauline, Miss Gloria van Meer's maid." |
8,355 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation - Part Eighteen | "Oh no, please, I beg you, I can't take it. It hurts too much!"
"You should have thought of that sooner. You deserve every stroke. I consider it a fit and proper punishment for your crimes. Now, we will start again!"
And with that, the cane swished through the air and hit its mark. He screamed, he counted, he screamed some more and begged. With superhuman effort on his part, he endured his full punishment. His sense of relief was tangible when he counted off the last stroke.
"There now, that was not so bad, was it?" Lisa taunted.
Jack was crying. He had not cried since he was a child.
"Quite cathartic, really, if you think about it," she said as she placed the cane back on her desk.
Jack sniffed and asked if she had a handkerchief.
"You really should have one of your own, if you make a habit of blubbing," she said and passed him a large white one she just happened to have in her pocket.
"You can pull up your pants now, and thank me for showing you the error of your ways."
She was standing there pointing to her feet. Jack quickly blew his nose and wiped his eyes, then fell to the floor in front of her and thanked her for punishing him. The words came out a little begrudgingly, but he managed to sound reasonably sincere.
"Now, here is a pen and a piece of paper. You will write one hundred times, 'I must respect women', in neat legible handwriting. When you have finished, you will raise your hand. You are not allowed to speak again until I give you permission."
And with that, she waved him back to his seat.
Jack took the pen and paper, resumed his place, and started to write. It was not long before he realized that Lisa's gown was raised, and she was exposed to him behind her open-fronted desk. She was masturbating!
He tried hard to ignore her and concentrate on the task at hand, but all to no avail. He could not resist taking a quick peek. She appeared to be completely oblivious of his presence.
He tried to keep writing, while using his other hand to rub the bulge in his pants. She now had her eyes closed and had put both her feet up on her desk. Her hand moved slowly around her clitoris and vagina. She was getting very wet. Jack could see her sex glistening as she gave out little moans of pure self-indulgent pleasure. He stopped writing, undid his zip, and pulled out his penis. As he watched her getting more and more excited, he manipulated himself faster and faster. He groaned. Still, she appeared to ignore him. Then she climaxed, and her body shuddered with satisfied pleasure.
She opened her eyes suddenly and saw Jack staring straight at her. Without a word, she picked up a ruler from her desk, descended the dais, and strode towards him.
He did not have time to straighten himself up, and the look on his face was quite pitiable.
She grabbed his ear, pulled him to his feet, and stared at his erect penis. He shuffled uncomfortably and stared at his feet. 'How was he managing to get into so much trouble? It was all her fault, she's tormenting me,' he thought, but it didn't help.
Suddenly and without warning, she applied a stroke with the ruler directly to his erection. He jumped in the air, trying to cross his legs at the same time to give himself some sort of protection. Then she held one hand and rulered that, and then did exactly the same to the other hand.
"How dare you behave in such a way in my presence. I will not tolerate such behavior. Do you want another caning?"
Jack shook his head, but he didn't dare speak.
"Now get on with your lines, and put that filthy thing away!"
Lisa turned and resumed her seat, and Jack zipped himself back up and did the same.
He was so frustrated he could hardly concentrate on writing his lines, and his hands were so sore he could not hold the pen properly either, but eventually he finished.
When he put his hand up, Lisa simply said, "About time! Bring them here."
She glanced over them and then made him repeat the sentence out loud, just to make sure he remembered it.
"I must respect women," he intoned, and actually sounded as though he meant it.
"Now, it is time for lunch. Alice will bring you something to eat here. When you have finished, I want you to spend the afternoon writing out a complete confession of all your crimes against women, and I want it signed and dated. If it is not finished by five o'clock, when I return, I will have no other choice but to give you fifty strokes of the cane! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Yes, Madam," came the extremely muted response. |
8,936 | Mouth | "Wow! You never told me your sister looks like *that*!" My wife's sister Sue had just come into town and brought her latest boyfriend. Apparently he was one to speak his mind.
"You look fantastic!" he went on, still addressing Judy, my wife. He was tall and obviously an outgoing person. "Do you know what I like *best* about you?"
"Oh Rob, stop teasing her," said Sue, "There's no stopping him," she said to us.
"What do you like best?" asked Judy. She seemed a little wary to me and a little taken aback.
"Your mouth. You have the most wonderful mouth. It is so perfectly shaped! And your lips! They're *fantastic*! Do you know what your mouth and lips are perfect for?"
"What?" asked Judy.
"For what *men like best*!" There was a pause and no one said anything. I was sure Judy was going to explode and I waited like a statue, braced for it. Then she giggled.
"Sorry about that," said Sue, "Obviously he's not housebroken yet."
"I can see that!" said Judy but she was still giggling.
"What's the matter?" said Rob. "I just call it like I see it."
"Right," said Sue, rolling her eyes at the same time.
Rob was a little much for me--one of the louder and more abrasive people I'd ever met. He had a comment for everything throughout dinner and I wondered how long Sue would be able to take him. After dinner Sue and Judy got in conversation catching up and I ended up entertaining Rob.
"They sure are a couple of hot babes!" he said by way of making conversation, I suppose.
"Yes, they are both very attractive."
"You got *that* right!" I tried to think of a response to that. I suspected keeping up a conversation with Rob would be a challenge. After a pause, he went on "Did you ever do Sue?"
"No, I never did!"
"How could you keep your hands off her? What a pair of sisters! I bet Sue's been desperate when she was between boyfriends!"
"Well, I've stuck with Judy."
"Right! I got ya!" and he winked at me! Believe it or not, our conversation didn't rise much above that. Finally we all got to talking some more and I felt relieved even though the conversation was still a bit strange.
I almost asked Judy what she thought of Rob when we went to bed but figured I didn't want to listen to a harangue. I wondered what it was going to be like spending a day at the beach with them. But something made me look at Judy's mouth. No, we never do that. I think about doing it sometimes, but I could never imagine Judy going for it.
That night, I woke up and Judy wasn't there! "Judy," I said in a low voice and got no response. I got up without turning on the light and wandered out the door in the dark. Light was coming from the guest bedroom and the door opened a bit, blinding me. When it was shut, I found Sue in the hall with me.
"Everything all right?" I asked Sue in a low voice.
"Oh, sure," said Sue.
"Judy got up for something," I said.
"Oh, it's that Rob! There's no stopping him!" said Sue. "Come here and look," she added, grabbing my hand and pulling me. She pulled me to the door and opened it a crack. Judy was in there! And kneeling in front of Rob with his cock in her mouth! I stared. Sue closed the door again.
"Once he has something in his mind, you just have to get out of his way!" she said and giggled. I didn't know what to do. She just stood there as if she were waiting for me. Finally, I walked back into my room--it was like I was in a trance. I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling.
I woke up the next morning to find Judy right there beside me--as if nothing had happened! We all ate breakfast and no one said a single word about it! After breakfast, we drove down to the ocean. It was pretty crowded, but we had the chance to go in a bit as well as lay out. Rob was in and out of the waves the whole time. Judy and Sue sat and talked for a lot of the time. I got bored. Then we were leaving.
"Yep, that Judy's really something!" Rob was babbling on as we walked through the parking lot but this caught my attention in light of the previous evening's activities. "You've got the mouth of an *angel*!" he went on, directing his comment to Judy.
"Don't listen to him!" said Sue, giggling.
"I *mean* it! Dan knows, don't you?" Now *what* was I going to say to answer *that*?
"Yes--she's *very* pretty" I volunteered. We were approaching our car.
"Sure she's a knockout. But I mean the way she sucks cock!" Judy gasped and Sue giggled again. This was unbelievable! I just stared. "Come let's show them," he went on. We were at the car. He pulled Judy by the hand over next to the car--between it and a minivan parked next to it. Then he pushed down on her shoulders, inducing her to kneel. They were still both in their suits--Judy in a bikini. He pulled off his suit and his cock sprang out there right in front of her face. She didn't look at me at all but just knelt there looking at his cock. There weren't people right there in the parking lot, but it was pretty open--anyone could come toward us.
"Easy now, girl, you can do it," he said and he pulled her head toward his cock. Right out there in daylight, in the parking lot! I looked around nervously. She had him in her mouth and was sucking away. Sue just watched and smiled. I couldn't help but nervously look around for anyone coming.
She went on and on, sucking him. He looked down at her and smiled. I couldn't stand watching it.
"Isn't she good?" he finally said. Then he started grunting and spasming and it was obvious that he was coming. She just kept sucking.
"She's a great little cocksucker--a *real talent*" he went on. Judy stood up. She looked a little nervous and didn't look at me at all.
"Well I think she has a *lot to learn*" volunteered Sue.
"Well she isn't as accomplished as *you* but she certainly has potential."
"I'll show you *real* cocksucking," responded Sue. Immediately she was on her knees in front of Rob. In seconds she had her one-piece peeled off and around her knees. I stared at her body--her naked breasts. Rob approached her and she went right for his cock with her mouth. He grabbed her hair and started fucking like crazy. I couldn't believe how much they moved--he was slamming into her face! She more-or-less hung on for dear life. She had her hands folded behind her back. He was jerking more and more until he obviously came again. I couldn't take my eyes off them. Judy was watching them too.When he was done, he collapsed against the car, and she collapsed into sitting on the ground. They just stayed like that, catching their breath for a minute. Then they pulled on their suits and got in the car.
Judy wouldn't look at me that evening - I never talked to her once, even though we all had supper together. That evening, Judy and Rob disappeared into the guest bedroom. I didn't go up there. They were there for hours until past time to go to bed. Sue and I watched TV, not saying much. Finally, I headed for the bedroom without Judy. Sue followed me.
"She just wants to learn," said Sue. She sensed that I didn't like all this. She left, and I went to bed. As soon as I had the light out, the door opened, and someone slipped in. I turned on the light again by the bed. It was Sue. She was in a nightie, and she slipped into bed in Judy's place and reached over me and turned out the light again.
I lay there thinking. "It's just a little *change* for her," said Sue as she lay there. "She's going to know new things." I didn't answer but still stared at the dark ceiling. She reached over and took my hand. "Hold me, please," she said. I finally looked at her in the dark. We kissed for a minute. Then she drew back and lay on her back next to me. She said quietly "please?" I still stared at the ceiling - I couldn't do it. I held her in my arms part of the night, but that was all.
The next morning, Rob and Sue were gone. Judy was making breakfast when I woke up. She said good morning when I came down as if nothing had happened.
"Judy..." it was my first word of the morning, and she turned, sensing I was disturbed.
She put her finger over her lips to quiet me. "You liked it with Sue, didn't you?" she asked, with a little smile.
"She's nice," I replied.
"Let me..." she started talking, but stopped. Then, with a little smile, she knelt at my feet and started opening my pants. I gently pushed her away. She ended up sitting on her ass with her arms out behind her to lean on. She looked up at me, confused.
We're pretty comfortable together again now, but I've never let her touch my cock with her mouth. But I think about it. |
9,091 | 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 took 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."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. |
9,099 | 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-sized 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."
"Okaaay," 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 I 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. |
9,114 | Home | "Hi, darling..."
He put down his suitcases and embraced her quickly. "I'm glad I'm home."
"You go have a shower while I get things ready for you." He nodded in assent.
She walked into the bedroom and surveyed the outfit she had laid out on the bed. One of his old white dress shirts, a pair of jeans that were tight but not too tight, and her newest acquisition, a lacy violet bra-and-panty set that covered less area than a thong bikini. She stripped and changed quickly, doing up all the buttons on the shirt, instead of leaving two of them undone as she usually did. She kicked the clothes she had been wearing under the bed.
The bed was made, and the pillows fluffed, the toybox at the foot of the bed closed. She shouldn't be needing anything out of there unless he got unruly. She walked over to the dresser and picked up a small yin-yang pendant that was lying there.
He was nearly finished his shower, she could tell from the sound of the water. He was just rinsing off and should be stepping out of the shower to dry off in a moment. She waited.
He walked into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. She stepped forward and gently slipped the yin-yang pendant in her hand onto the stainless steel ring in his left nipple. He bowed, straightened, and stood waiting.
"Go lie down on the bed, darling, on your back." He did so and watched her, waiting for her next move. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, surveying him.
She walked over to the bed and climbed onto it. She then positioned herself so that she knelt over him, straddling him, vertical from the knees up. She bent and kissed him lightly on the lips. "It's good to be home, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, caressing.
He nodded.
"You've been away a week now. A week is a long time." He nodded again.
She gently caressed his cheek with her hand. "I intend to know just how much you missed me, very soon." He smiled, then nodded. She kissed his cheek and then kissed him again on the lips, but this time it was a long kiss. When she broke the kiss, she smiled.
She turned her head at an angle and slowly licked his neck. Just one lick. He closed his eyes briefly, a different expression flickering over his face. She touched her lips to his neck, raised her head, and smiled. "Did you miss me?" He nodded, the look of delicious anticipation flickering again over his face. She kissed him again on the lips, this time a French kiss. When the kiss broke, he moaned softly.
She kissed his neck and slowly began to trail her tongue over the skin, bestowing the occasional kiss to it. He moaned again, almost too softly for her to hear. She smiled.
From his neck, she slowly traced her way down to his collarbone, going very slowly, taking her time. Her hands, which had been anchored on the blanket, now were softly caressing his sides. He gasped when she tugged on his nipple ring, arching his back.
"No, no, not yet, darling. Not yet." Again, he nodded, eyes closed, his countenance partly a grimace and partly a look of pleasure.
She gently kissed his right nipple. His face lost its grimace, and the look of pleasure took its place as she quietly licked and sucked at his nipple. She nipped it with her teeth, and he moaned loudly, straining to be quiet and still.
Her hands were sliding over his chest and stomach, and then up to stroke his face gently, in compensation for the bite, and then they slid slowly down again, gliding over his shoulders, and then back to his chest and stomach. She slowly kissed her way over to the other nipple, to give it similar treatment, and pulled carefully at the ring with her tongue. After spending several minutes on that nipple, she lifted her head and kissed him on the lips.
She rearranged herself so that she was sitting beside him. She purred, in that way she had, sensuously.
"Sit up, darling. I want you to be able to see this well." He acquiesced, pulling himself back on the bed to lean against the headboard. She was kneeling near the foot of the bed now, facing him. She undid both of the cuffs of her shirt.
"Which button next, the collar or the last button on the shirt?" she asked him.
"The collar, if it pleases you, milady." She slowly undid the collar button. She then undid the next button, and each button in turn, taking care to make certain that he did not see anything of what was underneath. She turned around and bent at the waist, and then took off the shirt. Straightening, she turned around.
The violet lace brassiere cupped her breasts, lifting them, the lace barely hiding her nipples, though he could see them through the fabric.
"Oh, milady..." He sighed at the sight. She leant forward, tempting him to touch her. She straightened again and turned once more, so that she was facing away from him.
She undid the button on her jeans and unzipped the fly, and then began to slowly wriggle them off her hips, the violet lace appearing above the descending waistband of the jeans. He watched intently.
The jeans were about her knees now, and she stood to let them slip down to her ankles, and she then kicked them off, one leg at a time. Clad now in only violet lace, she slowly pirouetted to display herself in full.
"I see you like my new outfit, darling, the towel isn't doing much to hide that fact." She smiled, as did he.
"You are the most beautiful creature in the world, milady."
"Thank you, darling. Look your fill, because once you have, I will be taking these off as well."
"Come closer, milady?" She walked up to stand beside his hips and then straddled him as she originally had, vertical from the knees, but leaning forward slightly, accentuating the curves of breast and hip. He looked at her approvingly, noting every detail, the swell of her breasts as they were held by the violet lace, how her nipples had crinkled up beneath the lace, as they always did when she was pleased, how she had one shoulder slightly higher, and her head tilted, her dark hair still pulled back in a braid, grey eyes watching him, chest slightly forward, hips slightly back. She must have shaved that morning, her legs were smooth and the skin silky, the surface of her newly-shaven mons soft, her pale skin a contrast against the violet lace.
Impulsively, he lifted his hands from his sides, placed them on the small of her back, and let them glide downwards, over her buttocks, and down the back of her thighs.
"Forgive me, milady." He looked up to her face adoringly. "Your beauty is such that I could not resist."
"I forgive you, darling." Bending, she placed a hand on each side of his head and kissed him softly. "Have you looked enough?"
"Yes, milady."
She stood and stepped off the bed. "Stand up, darling. I want you to be on top today." She undid the clasp of the brassiere and shrugged it off, the violet lace falling to the floor, and slid the panties off her hips, letting them fall to the floor, and stepping out of them.
She lay down on the bed, thighs apart. "Come here, darling." He climbed on top of her, the towel discarded, lying on the floor, like the violet lace.
He gently cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed her, a deep kiss. He smiled and then gently kissed the spot at the top of her cleavage, and then ran his tongue down her cleavage. He gave each of her crinkled pink nipples a long, tender kiss. He traced his tongue down her body, along its centerline, over her torso, stopping momentarily to kiss her navel, and downwards over her belly, to place a tender kiss on her mons. He lifted his head to look up to her face, glowing with a smile. "So beautiful, milady, so beautiful," he murmured, voice soft and deep.
He could wait no longer, and so, he entered her, her soft moan audible in the quiet room. He was fully inside of her, his hands caressing her, their mouths locked in a kiss. He pulled out of her, but not quite, and slid into her depths again.
He had soon set the rhythm, a gentle rocking back and forth, as he made love to his lover.
"I missed you, darling. I missed you so much." He kissed her cheek and then her breast.The tempo began an accelerando, their lovemaking a finely played piece, the flute and the cello in harmony. He was licking her neck now, as she had his, and she was moaning now as he had been before. The accelerando continued, as he caressed and kissed his lover.
The motion was not so gentle now, flute and cello building to a coda, the melodies woven together, as were their limbs. She cried out, as the flute's highest note was reached. He kissed her again, as he made his final thrust, spent, now that the piece had reached its final note.
They lay there, silently, still, for several minutes, and then she spoke. "Would you hold me?"
"Always, milady." He disentangled himself, and moved to lie next to her, and took her in his arms. He kissed her forehead.
"Did you miss me, darling?"
"Oh, milady, there are no words for how much I missed you."
"I missed you too, my darling. So much."
"I'm home now, milady." |
9,308 | Tortured Teacher | "But wait a minute," one of the ladies protested. "You mentioned the possibility of blackmail. How can we make sure that they don't take pictures of us that they can use to blackmail us afterward? I just can't imagine anything worse than being forced to work in a place like that," she shuddered.
"I've thought of that, too," Sheila replied. "Look here."
She picked up a little suitcase from the floor, laid it on the table. Opening the lid, she drew out what looked like a small bag, made of black silk. Drawing the bag over her head, she adjusted it so the eyeholes were in the right place, and tied the drawstrings under her chin.
"There," she said, her voice a bit muffled by the silk. "I defy the Devil himself to recognize me now, especially with my clothes off." A naughty tone crept into her voice. "Sure, we'll be naked, of course. We'll feel much more wicked that way. And it'll be more fun when Susie gives us the blow job -- or we work on each other, if the spirit moves us. And look," she demonstrated, "these masks have flaps that open up over the mouth, so they won't interfere with any kissing we want to do.
"And that's part of the fun, too," she went on. "If we want to make a little love with one another, nobody will know for sure who her partner is. And the rest of the girls won't know who is making out, of course. And -- most delicious of all -- Susie won't know who is raping her (I think we can use that word) while we'll know damned who she is.
"So any pictures that are taken will show only Susie with a bunch of anonymous naked girls, so there's no possible way they can be used to blackmail any of us.
"As a matter of fact," she added as an afterthought, "we might like to take a few pictures ourselves. Not only as souvenirs, but just think of the kick if we spring them on Susie some time during our regular bridge sessions. For instance," she giggled, "we could have a set of prints made up the size of our playing cards, and let the dummy casually lay them out some time when Susie is declarer. You'd be willing to make the prints for us in your lab, wouldn't you, Gertie?"
Gertie nodded, caught up in the spirit of the adventure.
"So let's put it to a vote. We don't all have to go, although Jack says that we'll have to pay a total of $350, regardless of how many of us do take part. How about it, girls?"
The motion carried unanimously. |
10,183 | Guns {A sequel to Shields!} | "So, what led to the downfall of the human race, then?" Leading Teacher Second Class Snod waved his fifth tentacle over the class.
"Yes, Skrark?"
"Guns, Oh Mighty One."
"Correct-- wait a minute-- take your tentacle out of Bunge's reproductive orifice, Smeta. Yes, I can see you. And you, Bunge, stop encouraging him. Right, where was I?"
"The downfall of the human race, Jewel of the Firmament." They were a very polite race, especially when addressing their betters.
"Thank you, Skrark." He cast two of his eyes over the assembled crowd of students, occupational, third class. His other three eyes, he turned to the projectoglobe.
"Now, we are going to see a rare piece of, what humans called 'video'. Our scientists have managed to decode it, which was a very difficult task as the technology was so crude, but no matter. SMETA! I told you to stop that! Right, that's a two-month ban on procreation..."
"But, Oh Spirit of the Gods, she wanted it." Politeness, and honesty, like that needs to be rewarded so he turned to her.
"Is this true, Bunge?"
"Yes, Oh Temple of Belief. I am at the time."
"In that case you will go to the procreation corral at once. I will send along the male members of the class presently." He turned an eye to Smeta. "You will lead the procreation, Smeta. You did the right thing."
"Thank you, Light of the Heavens."
"Right, now the interruptions are out of the way, I think we'd better continue with the class. As I said, we have recreated the video and you are now going to see it and comment afterwards."
The projectoglobe lit up and the lights dimmed.
"This video is Space Force restricted material. If you are not authorized to watch this you may be committing an intergalactic offence," the projectoglobe translated from the text on the screen.
A couple of the class laughed but a quick burst from the teacher's stun gun and they were silent again, comatose in fact. Probably for days.
The writing dissolved to be replaced by a human face on the screen. A few of the females held a tentacle in front of each eye at the horror of the image.
"My name is Commander Brett and I am the leading science officer for the Space Fleet. I am recording this historical record into the research of weapon systems that we have been undertaking, which I, of course, led."
He smiled deprecatingly and a whoosh of horror passed over the crowd. Even the teacher winced.
"The research began during the successfully concluded war with the Morgons. It was at that time we discovered that the secretions from certain organs in the female human could be used to produce an extremely potent protective shield around our ships. There were, as there usually are with any modern weapons system, problems. The biggest was that none of the male humans could have sexual relations..."
"Procreation!" said the teacher to the puzzled students.
"...with the female of the species, or the secretion would become useless. This led us, after the battle of Urtocon IV, to start research into what the component was, in male sperm, that could neutralize the secretion so effectively. Our research led us to study the complex mix of proteins and amino acids that made up the sperm. The problem was that only one particular mix of components could achieve the desired effect and that was only available from sperm directly from the male himself. So we couldn't use our replicators to duplicate the compound. Furthermore it needed to be at blood temperature to be effective..."
The camera zoomed in and the students shrank back. The teacher bravely stood his ground.
"......The solution presented itself in a curious way. The women of the fleet were completely off-limits to the males because of the neutralizing effect the sperm had on the shield compound. The males, therefore, became truculent and belligerent and the incidences of violence and, indeed, homosexuality, increased dramatically. Therefore we were forced to construct what we called 'dissipation chambers'. These consisted of machines, each of which fitted around the male's body. His penis was then sought out and purged of all of its juices. The receptors were constructed after careful research into the dynamics of a female mouth. In that way we were able to quell any disciplinary problems aboard the fleet. We then found that the sperm from the men could be used to arm a special type of protein gun. Initial tests proved extremely positive against the shields, but the amount of sperm required was immense."
He paused to sip a glass of water.
"The order went out around the fleet that men had to use the chambers at least once a day. Still the output wasn't high enough for a full scale battle. We modified the chambers so they were total immersion vessels with full holo capabilities. Therefore the man was surrounded by the writhing sensuous women, or men, of his dreams. This increased the output greatly. But the final ingredient bringing the fleet up to battle readiness was the aphrodisiac we developed. This heightened his arousal and also required him to use the chamber on a more regular basis, hourly, in the case of many of the younger crew members. In a battle the men would be given a double dose of aphrodisiac and would be immersed in the chambers for the duration of the battle."
He looked serious for a moment.
"The first time we clashed with the enemy was a fairly large skirmish in the Varga 2 system. It was only an important battle in that it was completely fought by older members of the crews, all the younger members being needed to supply fluid to the weapon and shield system. The battle was a success all in all with only a few men from our side killed, mainly by heart failure. It also highlighted a few weaknesses in the systems. These led to modifications which allowed the man to stay inside the chamber for hours, days even, at a time. Feeding and effluent systems were installed as were anti-gravity fields. This would allow the man to float around and indulge in whatever fantasies he, and the computer, dreamed up, without any interaction with the outside world at all. Full body monitors were designed and installed. These would match the exertions to the capability of the body. This minimized the risk of premature expiry. The aphrodisiac was fed in with the sustenance of course. They proved to be very popular. In fact some men became so keen on them that they would disappear for days. And no-one would complain of course because it was vital war work. Much the same as that the women were undertaking. We upgraded their systems too. They had full immersion chambers built with monitoring, holo facilities and resource packages fitted. Much like that for the men, these chambers could provide an infinite number of fantasies. Again these proved popular, especially with the introduction of an aphrodisiac for them too. Again, much like the men, some women were spending more and more time in them. We could see a pattern emerging at this point. First the subject would start using the chamber on an increasingly more frequent basis. Then they'd progress to one or two day sessions. Finally they'd just stay in there. Permanently."
He paused to give himself gravitas.
"This was fine during the on-going war. The fleet won every battle in the war and eventually the Morgons sued for peace. They even handed back the females they had captured. They were useless to us now and they took straight away to the chambers. I remember one of them, an exquisite little redhead. She was offered 'normal' sexual intercourse and she laughed. We never saw her again, though you could make out her body, floating in the void, through the porthole windows. The problem came with the peace."No matter how we tried, we couldn't coax them out. Neither males nor females. So we had to leave them, as space law forbids us to tamper with a working weapons system. Back on the home-world, the civilian population got to hear about it, and before long, there were queues of volunteers outside every recruiting office on the planet. We had to accept them, of course, especially with the threat of the Quageelers rising now that the Morgon threat had been removed.
The students splotched greasily on hearing the human mentioning their race.
Within three years, virtually the whole of the younger, fertile sector of the human race were part of the project. Then the problems started. No children could be born because there were no parents; those capable were all in the chambers. And, although the effects of anti-gravity were to allow the subjects to stay, effectively, at whatever age they went in at, none of them ever came out. So mating was out. We tried to inject sperm directly into the females in the chambers, but the experiment was unsuccessful. We concluded that it was because the vaginas were virtually in constant use, night and day. And it somehow killed the sperm.
He wiped his glasses.
We are few now, the ones outside the chambers. We've done our best for those inside. We have linked replicators to our fusion reactors, so even after we have gone, they can still carry on with their chosen lifestyle. The fusion reactors will last for billions of years. The only encouraging aspect is that some of the females and males are linking computers now. Some are becoming almost monogamous, both featuring the same partner at all times. We are hoping that they may eventually come out, of their own accord, from the chambers, that the lure of a certain partner may resurrect the urge to procreate again and even now, at this late hour, save the human race. In other words, the only thing that can save mankind is a healthy dose of love.
The projectoglobe went blank.
"Now, before you go off to do your procreation duties, are there any questions?" |
10,252 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation | "Now be a good puppy and curl up under here at my feet while I catch up on my correspondence. Then I will take you for a little walk."
Jack said, "Yes, Madam," and started to crawl into the space under the desk. 'Only a few more hours to go,' he thought, 'I can handle it.'
"Dogs don't talk, they bark. One woof for 'yes' and two for 'no'. Do you understand, Rover?"
Jack almost said 'yes' and then remembered just in time.
"Y...woof!"
It didn't take Jack long to realize that his new position of house pet afforded him a view right up Lisa's provocatively short skirt. The spikes reminded him he probably shouldn't be looking, but he could not tear his eyes away. He did the only thing he thought he might be allowed to do in the role he had been assigned, and whimpered, in the hope that she might relent and remove the sheath.
"Quiet, Rover! I can't concentrate if you make so much noise. I know you want to go for your walk, but you will have to be patient," she said, deliberately misunderstanding him.
Jack was trying to figure out how to explain that he did not want to go for a walk, but was in pain, when she had allowed him such a limited communication system.
So he tried barking several times.
"Oh, you want to go outside. Come along then. You are a good puppy for not wanting to wet the floor!"
And so saying, she led him outside and undid his lead.
"Off you go then, there is a nice tree over there."
Alice rejoined them, carrying a furry tail attached to a belt. It had a butt plug on the inside. Now he understood why they had been laughing.
"Rover wants to 'go'," Lisa explained, "we will give him his tail in a minute."
Jack realized that there was nothing for it but to humor them. To do anything else would have been extremely painful. Of that he had no doubt. So he headed for the tree. As he made to stand up, he heard "Ah ah, not that way, you are a dog. Dogs cock their legs and they don't use their paws."
He did try but failed miserably, and ended up getting more on his leg than on the tree. He could not believe he had been reduced to this.
His final humiliation was the insertion of the 'tail'.
"Well, aren't you going to wag it for us, Rover?" Lisa demanded more than asked. So he did. Utter and total humiliation.
"That's better. Now back under my desk, I still have to finish my letters," and then to Alice, "Having a new puppy can be so time-consuming. I had quite forgotten how demanding they can be."
Jack spent the next two hours looking up Lisa's skirt and paying for it. He whimpered from time to time, but was only told he would have to wait for his 'walkies'.
His desire for her seemed to increase by the minute, despite the restraint she had put on him. Finally, she stood up.
"Just time for a nice walk before lunch, eh Rover?"
Jack barked twice. He did not want to go for a walk.
"Oh, don't be silly, Rover, there is plenty of time."
Lisa attached his lead again, and they were off. Out through the terrace door, down past the swimming pool and on across rolling parkland. The two Dobermans joined them, at least they seemed happy to be going for a walk. They came up to him several times and sniffed him. Even they seemed to be treating him as another dog!
The hardest time he had was competing with them in a game of 'fetch the stick'. They always got there first and were most unwilling to give it to him. They teased him with it a couple of times, daring him to try and take it away, but always bounded off back to Lisa at the crucial moment. Jack began to suspect that the dogs were female too!
Eventually, Lisa headed back towards the house. She had been laughing constantly throughout the entire walk, and now seemed in a much better mood than first thing in the morning. |
10,264 | Girls Loving Girls Part 2 | "Hi Lisa." Brenda held the door open. The petite seventh grader smiled and walked in, a small gym bag hung from her right hand.
"You guys are really great to let me come over," Lisa said as she stood in the foyer and looked around.
I could see her from the living room. She was dressed in short denim cutoffs and a Nike pullover. Her long blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore white tennis shoes, no socks. Her legs were long and firm and starting to take shape; the two little mounds on her chest were developing nicely. Brenda was right, she did have a cute ass and it definitely filled out her snug shorts. My pussy tingled at the thought of licking it.
"Come on in, Lisa," I called. She walked into the living room, sat her bag down, and plopped down on the couch beside me. "You hungry?" I asked.
"No thanks, Karen, I ate just before I came over." Then she turned and looked at the TV. "What are you watching?" she asked with a startled expression.
I had one of my dad's X-rated video tapes playing in the VCR, the ones he and mom kept hidden and didn't think we knew about. I had located a hot scene just as Lisa arrived.
"Oh, this," I said nonchalantly. "We rented a couple of movies for tonight. You like adult films?"
As Lisa stared at the screen, two girls and a guy had just undressed each other. "Yeah, I guess," Lisa said, transfixed on the images. One girl knelt in front of the guy and put his dick in her mouth while the other girl crawled under her friend and ate her.
Brenda came over and sat on the other side of Lisa. "This movie is guaranteed to get you wet," she said.
"Yeah?" was all Lisa said, sinking back into the couch and slipped her shoes off.
"You don't mind if I turn the lights down, do you, Lisa?" I asked.
"No," she said, never taking her eyes off the sex on the TV screen.
As the movie continued, the scene got hotter: the two girls were doing each other in a sixty-nine while the guy screwed the one on top from behind. The girl on the bottom licked her friend's cunt and the guy's balls at the same time.
It didn't take more than a few minutes before I saw Lisa move her hand down between her legs. I tried not to let her know I was watching but this was definitely promising. The hotter the movie made her the better our chances of getting her out of those little tight shorts.We kissed passionately, and she ran her hand down between my legs. The other girls were going crazy watching us, and the last of their panties flew off.
Brenda went and turned out the lights, and the next thing I knew, there were naked girls everywhere. I had never heard so much slurping and sucking and moaning in my life. In the dark, it didn't matter who was with whom; it was a pussy-eating frenzy. My little redhead was so turned on that the first time I touched her clitoris, she screamed and climaxed. I remember at one point having two girls sucking my nipples, one eating me, and one sitting on my face. It was so much fun showing them how to please each other. The best part was when we all formed a daisy chain circle and everyone "ate at the Y".
Eventually, we paired off and found an empty bunk. I lost count of how many times I came that night because the girl I slept with was having the first orgasms of her life and she was insatiable; we fucked for hours. When she finally fell asleep, I laid there for a long time with her in my arms, listening to the erotic sounds of the other girls making love.
The next morning, I awoke from a wonderful wet dream to find my little redhead was back in my bed. She had her warm mouth on my breast and a finger in my pussy. I pulled her mouth to mine, and she tasted delicious. She said good morning and asked if I was hungry. I told her I was starving, and she giggled, saying she had something for me to eat.
Then she got up on her knees, straddled my face, and lowered herself down on my mouth. Soon, her cries woke up all the others, and it didn't take long before the sounds of girls loving girls filled the cabin. Finally, when everyone had climaxed one last time, we got up and came together in the middle of the cabin. At some point during the night, we had all made love to one another. Now we lovingly pressed our naked bodies together, kissing and hugging. The girls would be going home that day, so we promised that next summer we would have a reunion.
My little redheaded still calls me once or twice a month to talk about the night we made love. We always wind up masturbating together on the phone.I raised up to see Brenda, her head thrown back, eyes closed, her fingers caressing her nipples in a deep sexual trance as Lisa moved her tongue in and out of my sister. Lisa was totally ours now, her body completely overcome with the forbidden pleasures of girl sex.
We climaxed together and finally lay back on the couch. Our bodies were covered in sweat, our faces and cunts dripping with girl-cum. The room was filled with the smell of wet pussies.
After resting for a few minutes, Brenda said, "I'm going for a hot shower. Want to join me?"
"Sounds nice," Lisa said.
We each took her by the hand and headed up the stairs. |
10,087 | Jemma - Caught Shoplifting | "Are your feet cold, Jemma?" asked Bill as we walked away from the stage, the dog chain attached to my neck collar again.
"No, I'm fine. Sometimes I get goose bumps from excitement, not because I'm cold." and thankful for his concern, "Thanks for taking good care of me tonight, Bill. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Not right now. Maybe later." patting my fanny as we walked. "You're doing just fine. Here we are already. This contest won't take too long." He put on the blindfold, then removed the hood.
"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.Bill (or Charlie) whispered in my ear as he led me to my next event. It felt good to have my hands down and walking freely, although the leather cuffs were still on my wrists, they weren't attached to anything. I still couldn't see and had a leather collar around my neck with a chain attached, but I didn't feel threatened as Bill walked me along. "Try to do your best, Jemma, and maybe we'll win a prize. Who knows, if we win, you'll get two hundred dollars."
"What do I have to do?"
"Just open as fast as you can when you feel the finger in the right spot. You'll catch on." as he patted my bare bottom. "Did you know your titties jiggle when you walk? That's so cute."
"Oh, you're funny." I giggled. "They're too little to jiggle."
We stopped by the next platform. I heard the men helping another contestant down off the stage. Bill jiggled my titties with his hand while we waited for the other girl to get down. "Nice job, Ariel, highest score so far." one of the men said to the exiting contestant. "Ariel" at least I knew one of the other girls' names.
Several men started sprinkling powder on me and tickling me lightly all over. "Why are they powdering me, Bill?"
"In this event you will want your hands and fanny to be dry. More friction that way, so you can pull your bottom open faster - without your hands slipping." (My bottom open?)
"I'm still not sure I know what to do, Bill, but I'll try to do my best." I said cheerfully. This was turning out to be more fun than I thought. What the heck. Nobody knew who I was, and I sure was getting lots of attention.
" Step right on up here, Little Jemma, we'll show you what to do." said a different voice.
"Get on your hands and knees. Now back up. That's a girl. Now your feet are over the edge. Put your knees farther apart." said several different voices.
Once again I was about table top high, surrounded by men. Most of them were behind me. "Take it easy. We'll get her ready." Bill told them. He had explained that each of the girl contestants had a "guardian" who would keep an eye on them the whole night - look out for their safety and so forth. He was my guardian that night.
"We're going to put this box under your head, Jemma. That's it." The wooden box had a thin pillow on it. I lowered my head and shoulders onto it, which took the weight off my hands. They placed my hands on the sides of my fanny.
I heard a buzzing sound. One of the men was putting some kind of lubricant into my bottom and said, "Open up" as he put more in. "Relax that pretty little butt, Jemma, this won't hurt." And it didn't. He kept putting more lubricant into my bottom, then put a more watery oil around on my fanny up and down between my cheeks. Not reaching out to my where my hands had been placed.
"Now, here's how this game works, Jemma. One of us will slowly slide his finger around on your pretty little fanny. If you feel the finger right over your hole, you've got to pop it open. Kind of like a little trap - to 'catch' the finger." he explained patiently while his finger glided around and around on my bottom - up and over - down beside it - across again - and...
I pulled my cheeks wide apart - fast - just as his finger glided over my anus. His finger dropped in, to his second knuckle. "Good catch!" he said and began tickling me with some kind of vibrating plastic thing - right on my little button in the front of my pussy. "This is your reward." as he circled the vibrator around my button with his finger still inside my anus. "You caught the very first one!"
We did this a few more times and I caught it every time. Very pleased with myself about the game and very pleased inside myself, too. Each time I caught his big finger, he buzzed my little button. My tummy was getting a mushy feeling, like I might get those good twitches. Then he asked the quiet onlookers. "Anybody else want to test her?"
"I do!" said a chorus. |
10,102 | Framing Device | "Hello, Will. Working on another one of your little stories?" The dark-haired girl set her things down on the next table over and slid into a chair, carefully smoothing her long grey skirt under her as she did so.
"Hmm?" The target of her question looked up from the battered spiral-bound notepad in which he was intently scribbling. "Oh... hi, Sophia... yes. Well... trying to..." He paused and studied her, absently tapping the remnants of the pencil's eraser on the pad. "Say... maybe... um... you could help me here.."
"Oh?" A sound with a mixture of emotions behind it: 80% disinterest, 10% mild caution, 10% even milder curiosity.
"Well, I'm sort of stuck on this stupid thing at the moment. Maybe I could bounce a few ideas off of you, and you could tell me what you think? We writers always appreciate feedback."
"OK... I guess." She looked pointedly at her watch. "But I came here to do some research, and I don't have much time..."
"OK. Great. Thanks." He quickly flipped back a page or two before she had time to change her mind. "This won't take long. Now... I'm writing this story... and in this particular scene, there is this man and a woman..."
Sophia sighed in annoyance and rolled her dark eyes towards the ceiling tiles.
"Will, this isn't another one of your love scenes, is it?"
"Huh? Oh, no. No no. They actually don't like each other very much. Well... they certainly aren't in love, anyway. The man's name is... uh... Homer. I guess. I've changed that about six times now... and the woman is named Jane."
"Me Homer, you Jane?"
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Will. Never mind. Go on."
"Oh. Well, they're meeting in a... " The brown-haired man shrugged and looked around in a slightly embarrassed fashion at the sagging, book-loaded shelves that surrounded them. "... in a library... Here, I'd better read to you what I've got down..I'd let you just read it yourself, but my handwriting..." He shrugged again, cleared his throat, and started reading, tapping the metal of the pencil on the wooden table now instead of the pad:
(The story continues as written in the original text)"I hung on every word!"
"Any suggestions about anything I should change?"
"Oh, no! In fact, I think..." She broke off and looked down at her watch. "Oh, crap. How did it get so late? I have to go. I'll talk to you later about it, I promise, OK, Will?"
"Sure."
Sophia got up and gathered her things, started to leave. She hurried away, but after only a few steps, she abruptly stopped and turned, as if something had just occurred to her.
"I really liked the story, Will. I mean it." She licked her lips hesitantly. "Do you think that maybe I could... come over to your place tonight, and hear another one?"
He looked at her, his eyebrows raised.
"My place? Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Of course I'm sure. How about eight, or so?"
"OK. Yes. I'd like that."
"You live at 2447 Gablehouse Drive, right? Apartment 23?"
"That's right. Actually, now that you mention it, I think I've got a story idea that you'll like a lot. I'll get to work on it right now."
She smiled warmly.
"It's a date. I can't wait to hear it."
She hurried off.
Will sat alone at the table, again tapping the pad with the pencil. Then he smiled as well and flipped ahead a few pages to a blank sheet. He whistled tunelessly through his teeth and wrote slowly and carefully across the top of the sheet, in firm block letters:
SOPHIA
BY WILL
Sophia liked listening to Will's stories. Ever since he read her his story in the university's library, the story about Jane and Homer and the black and the white going down, down forever, Sophia would go to his apartment and sit quietly in a soft, comfortable chair. Just sit and relax for hours and hours and hours, and listen to one of Will's stories about the black... and the white... going down... and down... Listen to it again and again and again, listen to Will's words wash over her, sink down... down... into her mind, see the pictures they formed deep in her mind. Bright, vivid, wonderful, pictures, pictures that resolved themselves so realistically before Sophia's eyes that it seemed she could just reach right out and touch them. Feel them. Pictures so bright... and vivid... she could just step right out and merge with them if she wanted. Seamlessly become the pictures. Go down... down... into the pictures... Become the wonderful... happy... pictures completely and without hesitation... or fear... whenever she wanted. Merge with the pictures whenever it was needed for full enjoyment of the story. Merge whenever it was required of her.
And her favorite story... the picture she liked to go down... down... into best of all... the brightest and clearest and most wonderful of them all... was the story about Sophia the Sex Slut. Will could talk for hours and hours... in his hot sexy powerful voice... about the wonderful... steamy... adventures of Sophia the Sex Slut, and Sophia would never get even the slightest bit bored... or tired... or distracted. It was the easiest of all to go down... down... and merge her mind with the Sophia the Sex Slut pictures. So easy. Sophia didn't even have to make any effort when Will started to talk about Sophia the Sex Slut in his powerful... hot... sexy... voice.... So easy... it was almost as if it was... inevitable... Almost as if she had merged with Sophia the Sex Slut... even before Will had opened his mouth. Almost as if she had written the story... herself...
SOPHIA THE SEX SLUT
BY SOPHIA
Sophia the Sex Slut never gets bored or tired. Sophia the Sex Slut is always eager, always happy, always open, always wet, always ready. Ready to have fun. Ready to experience pleasure. Ready and open and eager.
Eager to experience pleasure, and even more eager to give pleasure to others. Sophia the Sex Slut is filled to the brim, bubbling and dripping and overflowing with pleasure, and it is her duty, her ecstatic... wonderful... glorious... duty, to spread that bottomless, eternal, pleasure to whomever she happens to be with. Spread as much of it as she possibly can, as often as she can.
And when she isn't spreading happiness, spreading her pleasure, Sophia the Sex Slut likes to listen to Will tell his stories. Likes to sit quietly in a comfy chair and listen to Will. Likes to listen only to Will. Only to Will.
Will.
WILL AND SOPHIA THE SEX SLUT
BY VOYER
"Will."
Sophia the Sex Slut looks up from her slick, stylish, notepad, her eyes smoldering with lust. Happiness. Joy. Devotion. She smiles from her chair, shifts her chest forward before speaking again.
"Well... Will... Did you like my... little story?" Raising the expensive pen to her lips, she runs its shaft down her tongue, watching him all the while through half-lidded eyes. "I wrote it *just* for you." Leans further forward in the chair.
Will casually leans back in his chair and looks at the ceiling, his hands folded behind his neck.
"Not bad for a first attempt. Not bad at all." He looks down again. "Where did you get the idea for it? As a writer myself, I'm always curious about these things."
Sophia the Sex Slut tosses away the pad and pen and rises to her feet. Opens the sheer black robe and lets it drift down onto the chair behind her. Underneath is nothing. Or to be more accurate, everything.
She crosses the floor of Will's apartment, hips swaying, and leans over him, her dark ringlets of hair spilling forward over her pert breasts. Her dark eyes are very wide now. She whispers in a grave, confidential, tone of voice:
"Actually... Will... It's sort of autobiographical."
"Ah."
"And now... if it's all right with you... I'd like to do... a little more... research."
"Ah."
And after a moment...
"Aaaahhh...."
THE END |
10,113 | Corporate Backlash - The Corporation | "Kneel up and let me get a good look at you," Lisa commanded when he arrived in front of her.
"Please let me go now," he whined, "I can't take much more of this. Look, my dick is bright red from that awful tape. Your husband is very pleased with my work, and I am sure he would not want me treated like this."
"Oh, really! YOUR work. That's not what I have been hearing."
Jack looked down at the carpet. How could she know? St. Claire had never given any indication that he suspected anything was amiss.
He tried another tack.
"There are laws about treating people this way, you know. I will report this to the police the first chance I get." And with that, he started to get up.
She pushed him back down with her foot.
"Not so fast, wanker! Do you really think they will believe you? It's your word against mine. I could say that after dinner, you attacked me and tried to rape me. Much more plausible, don't you think?"
Jack thought it over and had to admit that going to the police because he had been put over a woman's knee and spanked with a hairbrush and then had to spend the night in her wardrobe with packing tape wrapped around his prick did sound a bit ludicrous.
In the end, his only response was "I'm hungry."
"Oh, well, we can't have that, can we?" she smiled at him as she buttered him a piece of toast. When she was satisfied it had been evenly applied, she tossed it on the floor. It landed face down.
"You will not get any more food today if you waste that nice piece of toast," she explained, as he hesitated over the furry morsel.
He picked it up and tried to remove most of the fluff before attempting to eat it. Lisa just laughed at him.
"Picky, picky," she said, as she took a sip of her freshly squeezed orange juice. "I suppose you're thirsty now as well?"
"Yes, Madam," came the begrudging reply.
"Well, you look like you could do with a wash. You can have a drink in the bath." She pointed to a door on the other side of the bed. "Go on in and get in the bath. I will be right there to turn on the taps for you. Off you go, and don't forget to crawl."
Jack was beginning to suspect that all this might be an elaborate turn-on for her prior to having sex with him. The rich were famous for being a bit kinky between the sheets. If that was what it was all about, maybe she intended that they take a bath together. Now he would not mind that at all. So he did as he had been told.
The bath was cold on his skin. He would have preferred the water in first, but the lady had said otherwise.
She followed him within a minute of hearing his 'oohs' and 'aahs' as his flesh touched the cold enamel. She walked straight over to the side of the bath, raised her bathrobe, and placed her bottom directly over his face. Then she relieved herself. It all happened so fast that Jack found himself coughing and spluttering as her golden rain entered his mouth.
"You can't have been that thirsty," she said as she stood up, "you spilt most of it."
He just looked at her in amazement.
The next thing he knew, she had the shower hose in her hand and was pummeling his whole body with cold water. She did not miss an inch.
When she finished, she handed him a towel and told him to get out and dry off.
She made herself comfortable by sitting in a wicker chair near the bathtub and watched as he dried himself off. He was absolutely silent.
"Now that I have shown you exactly what I think of you," she said in a most disparaging tone, "you can run me a nice hot bath. Then you will bathe me."
Jack was operating on semi-automatic. Never before had anybody done anything like that to him, and he was shocked. He put the plug in the bath and turned on the hot tap.
"Don't forget the bath oil, wanker!"
He thought, 'Oh no, how could I forget that! The teasing bitch pissed on ME, and now SHE wants to smell sweet!' but he said, "No, Madam." |
10,152 | {TML/"LM l"} Reference Guide | "The Midnight Lurker" / "LM l" A.S.S.M. Reference Guide
Revised: 7/8/1998
I have put together a small reference guide/story list for those a.s.s.m. readers who are interested in my work.
I use two different "author names," and both portray different types of erotic stories.
Most people around here would know me as "The Midnight Lurker," which pretty much describes when and how I use the Internet. Since I do a lot of posting, I guess I cannot be technically described as a "lurker." But on the other hand, this is the only place I post, and I "lurk" a lot of different places! I thought it would be an appropriate handle.
As for the types of stories I write under "The Midnight Lurker" moniker, most of them deal with gang-bangs and/or "loose" women. All of the stories involve straight male-female sex, although in the gang-bang scenes... it can be six men piling up on one woman!
My other author name would be "LM l." That is "LM l," not "LM 1." Several people mistake the small L (l) for a one (1). I pretty much keep the meaning of this a secret, although some of my devoted readers and Internet friends I have met via a.s.s.m. know what "LM l" stands for. It's actually kind of corny, so I won't divulge its meaning to the entire public. :>
The ONLY type of story you will find under the "LM l" moniker is male-female, STRICT romance with good, tasteful language. I sometimes let the language go in "The Midnight Lurker" stories, but I stay pretty clean and tasteful under the "LM l" series.
Why?
"LM l" stories are true-life accounts of my fiancée and me. I, unlike some men, do not want others to think of my S.O. as a sex object. I treat my fiancée with respect and dignity in the stories, and hope that comes across to the readers as well.
"LM l" stories are about love and devotion, not sex. On the other hand, T.M.L. stories are mostly about sex and pure lust.
Although my use of two monikers may be confusing to some people, I employ them for the reasons explained in the above paragraph. If you like love and romance, check out an "LM l" story. If you enjoy lust and raunch, read a T.M.L. story. |
8,449 | Ask Me Anything | "Ask me anything," I'd say to her when we were both little children.
"What's 17583 times 856206?" She'd ask, and I'd make up some large number that neither of us would remember; or sometimes she'd ask what was 17 times 3, and I'd say it was too easy and she should ask me something harder.
"Ask me anything," I'd say to her when we were both thirteen and her mother made eyes at me when her breath stank with booze.
After her father left, she said little and didn't ask anything for a very long time. Instead, she took my hand as we left school together, ignoring the taunts of the classmates we called friends. We walked a long time in the woods to our houses, and there she took my hand and laid it on her budding white breast as we kissed without words and our legs intertwined under the branches of the trees.
"Ask me anything," I'd say to her when she saw my face black and blue. But I knew she wouldn't ask, because the answer was too easy and yet too difficult for us both. Instead, she took my head and cradled it fiercely in her thin white arms.
At night in the summer, we sat in an empty playground looking up at the stars. We were seventeen and would leave the Midwest soon. We kept our wishes silent, fearing our wishes and hopes might leave us like the sound of our voices. Instead, she asked me with her fingers curling in my ears, my neck, the buttons on my shirt. She gave one tiny *gasp* of pain as I entered her that first time, and her voice was small as we rocked and breathed and held together in the open space under the stars.
She went to the East and I went to the West as we sought our fortunes, gained and finally lost.
She married a doctor who was handsome and rich and ultimately faithless.
I married an actress whose beauty and charm hid the ice-cold truth of her heart.
We met again two decades after we parted. We met in that empty playground we both remembered well, and once again it was summer, and once again it was nighttime.
We imagined that playground filled with children and how our kids might look and how happy our kids might be, and our voices were strong this time as we spoke of our wishes.
She kissed with experience, her breasts ripe and full now, and her hands were sure and no longer asking as she unbuttoned my shirt.
My hands were knowing as I caressed her face, her neck, her thighs, and her loud *gasp* as I entered was one of pleasure, not pain.
"Ask me anything," I whispered, my breath ragged in her ear.
"Marry me," she whispered as we rocked and shuddered, breathed and held together in that open space under the stars. |
8,506 | rp: deridre - Four | "Come! I have to show you," said Peg, pulling on my arm as soon as Larry and I had walked in the front door. She wasn't indicating Larry--just me. I glanced at him, but gave in, following Peg. I didn't see any of the other husbands around, and briefly felt guilty about abandoning Larry to Shannon and Denise. He hadn't even really wanted to come: I could tell. Well, at least he'd enjoy *looking* at Shannon. Men generally do.
"What is it?" I asked as Peg led me to the kitchen, then down the basement stairs. Dinner at Shannon's: we'd gotten this idea one Saturday when the four of us had gone out for lunch. A chance to drag...I mean *get* our husbands to a nice dinner, and Shannon could show off her cooking. I'd only been to Shannon's house once before, and was still taking it all in: she does have a way with decor.
Once in the basement, we turned a corner. I gasped: in front of us were three naked men!
They were standing, tied, blindfolded and gagged. It was the husbands. "What do you think?" whispered Peg into my ear. I stared. They just stood there, and I realized they were tied by the neck to the ceiling so they couldn't sit down or even move around very much.
"Peg, what's going on?" I whispered in her ear, confused. As well as shocked.
"Isn't it great?" she whispered back. *Great?* Was *that* the word to describe this? What was I going to do?
This was the last thing I expected to find at Shannon's: come to a dinner party; find *this*, whatever it was. What was Larry going to think of all this? "Peg," I whispered. "This is *strange*. Are they OK?"
"Sure! They love it," came the returned whisper. I looked at them. They just stood there. "Come on," she said, leading me back upstairs.
Somehow I was embarrassed at those men possibly hearing me. I kept my voice down: "Peg, this is too weird. We've got to go."
"What!? You just got here: this is our dinner together."
"Larry won't like this!" What *would* Larry think? I had no idea what he would think, but I had the uncomfortable feeling that it would be that my friends and their husbands were totally crazy. Which is about what I was thinking at the time.
"Oh, I don't know about that: guys *love* this sort of thing." What did she mean by that? Larry would *like* visiting three couples with the three men bound, naked? Those guys *like* this? I supposed they must or how did they let themselves get *into* their situation. "Look!" she added, still quietly.
She'd led me to the opening to the family room and I stopped, staring at the scene in front of me. Shannon and Larry were staring at each other. Shannon was sitting in the middle of a table, her legs spread apart, her heels on the table, her elbows resting on her knees. She wore rather tight-fitting pants that emphasized her long, slender limbs and her slender, athletic body. She was staring straight at Larry, looking very serious.
And he was standing in the middle of the room, staring right back at her! Neither of them moved when we came into view. Denise just stood leaning against the wall opposite Peg and me, watching them.
Peg was indicating that I should be quiet. No one said anything, but no one seemed inclined to either. The air was definitely very tense. Shannon moved just a little, and even though it looked like she was just adjusting, I realized that her body movements were *very* sexy. She smiled at Larry. "You like what you see, don't you?"
She was obviously talking to Larry, but he didn't answer: he just stared. I could see why he was intrigued by her, but I was shocked. He seemed to be oblivious to everything but her! "Don't you?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said in a low voice.
She smiled in response, but I didn't quite like her smile. I looked away. I happened to see into the dining room, noticing that Shannon had gone all out: good china, the works. And I realized that there were only four places set! Peg touched me and indicated to me to watch again, silently.
Shannon put her legs down over the edge of the table, then stood. She moved so gracefully, like a cat. "You want me."
"Yes."
"You don't care about *anything* but *me*, do you?"
No answer.
She went on: "Right now: you care *just* about me."
"Yes."
She paused. Then she said: "Take off your shirt: right here." After another short pause, she said: "For me."
He still just stared at her. She smiled again. "You *said* you want me. Do it. Right now. Right in front of your wife. For me." She seemed almost gleeful as she mentioned me.
He did it. He started unbuttoning his shirt! She giggled a little and said "So much for loyalty!" At the same time, she ran her hands up and down her own body. Her outfit was so tight.
He had the shirt off. She moved slightly closer. "Strip," she said. I noticed that Denise was holding handcuffs and a gag and other such things.
He did it. He stood there naked. "Good boy," she said, looking him up and down deliberately. She motioned with her head to Denise without actually looking at her. Denise came up behind Larry and cuffed his hands together. He still just stood there, staring at Shannon!
"I told you he'd like it," whispered Peg in my ear. Then she pulled me back from the door while Shannon and Denise led Larry out and toward the basement. I watched them disappear down the stairs. Larry'd never looked at me.
"It's just us girls, tonight," said Peg. Then she said "Come," was dragging me again. She led me upstairs and into a bedroom. She opened a jewelry box. "Shannon wants us to wear her jewelry." She pulled out a string of pearls. "Shannon's wearing this. Try it on."
She put it around my neck and attached it. *Larry naked in the basement, I'm trying on a pearl necklace.* The necklace was beautiful. Shannon and Denise appeared at the door. "Here, try this," said Shannon, having picked out a necklace with a locket. It seemed old-fashioned, but it was seeming old-fashioned just to wear any sort of necklace. Peg was wearing a gold chain and the two of us went back downstairs. I thought about Larry in the basement. What did he think of all this? How could he stare at Shannon like that, right in front of me?
The table was absolutely fabulous: everything set to perfection. Denise came down, wearing two fine gold chains around her neck. Then Shannon walked in.
She was naked. Well, she had on the pearls and heels: absolutely nothing else. Not even rings.
"Looks nice with the pearls," commented Denise, smiling. What a body Shannon had! She told us we could sit and went in the kitchen bringing out the entre. Denise started taking off her blouse!
She had no bra on and sat down wearing nothing above her skirt except for the two gold chains! Shannon had gone back into the kitchen. Walking around the house, naked in heels. "Want to?" asked Peg, looking at me, her fingers on the buttons of her blouse. She must have seen my answer in my face, because she immediately gave up on the idea and sat down, indicating that I should do the same.
Well, I got used to it, sort of, and we were drinking wine, gossiping. Once in a while, my eyes would stray to Shannon's naked chest and I'd remember the guys downstairs, but it was amazing how I seemed to adjust to the whole thing.
The meal was amazing: Shannon must have been planning it for a week--the dessert was heavenly. Afterwards they said it was time for the guys to have some fun and Shannon brought out a leather strap.
I stared at the way the guys just stood there and took it, not seeming to want to escape or anything. We left the four of them lying face-down on the floor, having removed their handcuffs and told them to get dressed again. By the time they came up, Shannon and Denise were dressed too.
Larry and I were silent, walking back to the car. What I'd watched him do! What *I'd* done! Once in the car, he grabbed me and kissed me!He was so passionate I couldn't believe it! We never said a word the whole way home, and we made love over and over that night, not a word between us.
And that was our first such get-together. Now it's amazing to see Larry getting excited as we get ready to go to these things: he doesn't say anything, but I can tell. And afterwards he is always ready. As I am: I'm always ready for more, even after our post-dinner upstairs activities. I'm no longer so shy at dinner, and Shannon's let me wear the pearls. I don't have her body, but I love those pearls.
Afterwards we always start by adjourning to Shannon's bedroom. Peg and I like to form our legs into a scissor around each other's sex and rub ourselves together. We can sit there on the bed while we do it, resting on our arms, and look at each other's faces. Shannon will tongue Denise's nipples: Denise just loves that, and will come from just that. I think Shannon would like to be licked down there, but none of us has ventured into that yet. She just gets Denise to finger her. |
11,099 | Time Out Of Time | "Gertrude. I don't want to panic you, but I need you out of the way."
"What are you going to do to me? Kill me?"
"No. No. Nothing that drastic. I'm going to introduce you to someone. And she is going to take care of you. Alright?"
"She? Who? What?" Confusion reigned again in her mind.
"Janey!" I called. My voice echoing around the house. I could feel the girl moving throughout the house. The house making every movement known. We were in the room closest to the stairs. I could hear her bare feet moving on the tile until she reached the base of the stairs.
"Yes?" Jane called up. Gertrude's face was a mask of fright. Someone else was in her house?
"Jane. Come up here. First door."
I could hear the girl climbing the stairs. I glanced out the window. The backyard was huge. A pool. Tennis courts. Tall oak trees graced the property. I wasn't aware that there were places left like this in the city.
Leaving Gertrude in the room, I met Jane in the hallway. I whispered to her so that Gertrude wouldn't hear.
"I've got a woman in there. Her name is Gertrude. Older lady. She's scared to high heaven."
"No wonder. You're here. She naked yet? Poor woman."
I glared at Jane. "She's in her nightgown. I don't find her particularly attractive."
"Lucky her," Jane mumbled. I glared at her again, and this time Jane paled a bit. Knew she had overstepped her bounds. "Oh God. I'm sorry. What do you need me to do?"
"Take her. Calm her down. Take her into the backyard. Tie her to a tree. She isn't going to like that, but explain to her the alternative. When you're done, let me know. I'll slow time to a crawl for her, so she essentially is out of time again."
"You are letting her go?"
"She's in the way at the moment. And she doesn't understand."
Jane just nodded. Not unwilling to help a woman escape my grasp. I released the handcuffs on her wrists. I didn't want Gertrude deciding to take advantage of Jane because she was handcuffed. Jane was younger and stronger than Gertrude. I just hoped that Gertrude listened. I didn't particularly want her to force me to hurt her.
I walked back into the room. Gertrude was standing on the far side. Away from the door. Trying to get as far away as she could. Badly frightened.
"Gertrude. I'd like you to meet Jane. She's going to help you. If you listen to her, you don't have to get hurt. Okay?"
Gertrude nodded. Her eyes widening as Jane stepped into the room. Her robe still unbelted not really covering her nudity. Jane tried her best to wrap it around herself, but was only partially successful. Any time she had to use her hands for something other than holding the robe closed allowed it to swirl open, revealing her nakedness beneath. Jane was used to it.
"What the hell is going on here?" Gertrude blurted out.
Jane took a deep breath, let the robe just fall as it would, and walked over to the frightened woman.
"Gertrude. You have to listen to me. Please. This man. He. He's capable of very bad things. He can hurt you, and me, very badly if we don't listen to him. I know you don't understand. You haven't been whipped yet. But if you listen to me, you never have to feel it. You are so lucky. Please listen to me."
At the word "whipped", Gertrude pulled in her breath. Fear really settled in her eyes.
"Wh-what does he want from me?"
"Oh God. Gertrude, I know this won't make any sense. But you have to do what I say. Okay?" She numbly nodded. "I'm going to take you downstairs and outside. Okay? And I'm going to ... to ... tie you to one of those oak trees. It won't hurt. I promise."
"Oh my God. You have to be kidding."
"I'm not Gertrude."
"You won't get away with this. The neighbours. The police."
Jane took a deep breath. "Gertrude. You have to listen to me. Please. You wouldn't believe what he is capable of. The pain he can put you in."
"No. I'm not going to let you tie me to a tree. Are you crazy?"
Jane sighed. "Look." She opened her robe. Exposing her bare chest to the woman. She pointed to herself. Various places on her bare breasts. Gertrude averted her gaze from the bare youthful body displayed in front of her. "Gertrude. Look at me. Please?" Gertrude finally couldn't keep her gaze away any longer. "Look at the marks. See these? This bruise? Here? And here?"
Gertrude nodded. Horror reflecting in her face.
"He whipped me. A couple of days ago. The marks are still there. You don't want to have that happen to you, do you? I made the mistake of not listening to him."
Gertrude just numbly nodded. Really badly frightened.
"He can do this to you too. Please. It's for the best. Trust me. Just do what he wants. You'll do it eventually anyway."
"What makes you think that he won't just whip me when I'm tied to a tree?"
Jane sighed. "I don't know that. But I've known him a lot longer than you have known him. Please. If he wants to whip you, he will. Nothing you can do to stop him."
Remembering how easily I caught her when she tried to escape, she nodded.
"I'll do what you say. Please. Just don't hurt me. Please?"
Jane nodded. "I won't hurt you unless he tells me to. And he hasn't yet. Okay?"
Gertrude nodded. Jane took her hand reassuringly and began to lead the trembling woman out of the room. I heard Gertrude scream just before she was led outside. Not sure what that was about. I watched from the window as the ill-robed girl led Gertrude out into the backyard. Their feet making soft tracks in the grass.
I could see Jane talking to the woman. From my vantage point there was no way to know what was being said, but it looked like Jane was trying to comfort the woman. Gertrude stood still, looking around. Probably not quite understanding why her neighbours weren't helping. Weren't even noticing the sight of her in her nightgown tied to an oak in her own backyard. But she was docile enough as Jane wrapped the rope around her wrists and ankles, loosely holding her to the tree. Jane climbed back to her bare feet. She checked the ropes and gave Gertrude a reassuring kiss. She fairly ran back into the house, letting Gertrude begin to struggle with the bonds. No doubt calling out for help.
Soon Jane re-entered the room.
"Done." She was out of breath.
"Nicely done, too."
"I didn't want to do that, you know. She was such a nice woman. She deserves better."
"I'm not torturing her, am I?"
"I guess. But she was so frightened."
"I'll deal with that as well.I looked out the window and concentrated on Gertrude's bubble of time. I narrowed it until it moved at barely a thousandth of normal time. It was enough to keep her in our timeline, but not enough that she'd even be aware of the events around her. The ropes would prevent her from moving around, even at that slow time rate. She effectively became very unaware of any events around her. Jane watched the transformation with me in fascination.
"I really wish I knew how to do that."
"And if you did, that would be the end of my control over you."
"Christ, yeah."
"And that, my dear, is why you don't know."
"Someday maybe you'll teach me."
"Right."
Again without being told, she raised her wrists, offering them to me. I slipped the steel back around her. She twisted her wrists a bit to find the most comfortable position. She was getting used to the ornaments as well as the others.
She looked at me. "You know you don't have to put these on us anymore. We aren't about to disappear or anything."
"I know."
"You just like to see us in them. Don't you?"
"You've got it."
"So we better get used to them for the rest of our stay, huh?"
"They aren't so bad. It could be a lot worse."
"I guess. At least you don't keep us in ankle chains, gags and nipple clamps all the time. Or make us wear things that cut off our circulation."
"Leniency. As long as you are good."
"I learned that lesson. Remember."
I smiled at her and changed the course of the conversation. "So, what did our host scream at down there while you were taking her out?"
"Actually, she screamed twice. I just managed to cover her mouth before the second one erupted into an ear splitter."
"What the heck happened?"
"Well. The first one caught me off guard. Elizabeth has taken the liberty of catching up on her reading. Sprawled out in the library on a leather recliner. Well, she left the door open understandably. You'd freak if she had closed it. And well, Gertrude happened to glance in. Saw our nude beauty in handcuffs quietly reading Dickens or something. Gave both of them quite a start. You didn't tell Gertrude about the rest of them, did you? Anyway, I hurriedly explained about the other two. Hoping that we wouldn't run into them on our way out. We didn't. Problem is, the way out was through the kitchen. Well, you had told us not to go in there and we haven't. So even I didn't know about her cook, Polly or something, standing there. Frozen. Making tea or something silly. Nearly startled me to death. I managed to stifle Gertrude's next screech just as she was opening her mouth. Do you have any idea how hard it was to explain that to her? Poor frazzled woman. Thou art a shit, you know."
I watched a grin play across Jane's fine features. She was pretty proud of herself.
I acknowledged her. "You done good." I kissed her on her offered cheek. I gave her a light slap on her rear end. "Go on back to what you were doing before I interrupted you."
"What if I was making love to Christi?" Her grin widened mischievously. I could tell she was kidding.
I gave her another sharper whack. Couldn't have hurt her very much through the terrycloth. I was going to have to relieve those ladies of the garments soon. I hated not being able to connect with bare skin at a time like this.
"Well then, by all means, get back to it. I'll call when I need your services again," I responded to her.
She pranced away, seductively swinging her hips as she left the room. I listened to her as she descended the stairs. Far happier than I'd seen her in a long time. I didn't have an explanation. Perhaps I wasn't tormenting her enough.
I wandered back around the hallway. Stopping in front of the mysterious door. I guess I was about to find out what her husband did for a living. |
11,111 | incest mon/son part 2 | "But I've got something else that could do with sucking as well," Mark said with a groan.
Mark looked down at his mom. He took his hand and ran it through her hair, moving his hand to the back of her head and lightly taking hold of her hair, pulling her up slightly to the level of his cock. Her full, red pouty lips were barely an inch away from his cock as it jerked about, waving in front of her face, the pre-cum dribbling down the front of the full cock head.
Mandy didn't hesitate. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue along her son's cock head, licking the white sperm from it. She raised her hand and gripped his cock shaft tightly, tugging on it, pulling his foreskin back and forth. More pre-cum appeared on the tip, and again she shot her tongue out and licked away the white droplets.
Mandy felt as if she was in a dream. As if she was watching her actions on a movie. The feel and taste of Mark's tool was intoxicating and it made her mind reel. At the same time, she felt as if she were no longer a 34-year-old married woman, but a 16-year-old cheerleader again, giving oral pleasure to the bad boy of the campus.
"Ugghhhh!" Mark moaned as his mother ran her tongue along the shaft and back again. He pushed her head towards his dick. Mandy opened her mouth wide and took her son's huge cock into her mouth and felt it hit the back of her throat.
She started to suck on it extremely hard, her hand pulling his foreskin back and forth as she did. Mandy closed her eyes tight, tasting her son's hot prick as she ran her tongue across the bottom of it.
"Uughh Mom! Suck It," Mark urged, his dick pulsing in his own mother's mouth. He gripped the back of her head tighter as she eagerly sucked his cock, bobbing her head back and forth in a fast rhythm, making loud, obscene slurping sounds.
Mandy wasn't thinking about anything else but sucking her son's cock. She gripped his cock shaft tighter, working it faster.
It was too much for Mark, he looked down watching his mom suck on his hard meat. He could feel her hot wet saliva all over the shaft. He was meeting her bobbing head with his own small thrusts, rocking his hips back and forth.
"Mom I'm gonna cum!!" he moaned, he felt his cum-sac welling up with his spunk.
Mandy moved her hand from his ass and brought it round to cup his balls. She started to massage his tight sac, her nails digging into the skin as she took hold. His bloated scrotum felt hot and firm in her delicate palm.
Mark felt his knees grow weak and he began quivering. He leaned backward to rest and steady himself on the wall. His hips were flexing in time with the movements of his mom's head, fucking her face. He looked down and saw the loving, adoring gaze of his mom as their eyes met. Her youthful face was slightly distorted by the huge member in her stretched lips.
"Uuughhhh!" was all Mark could say as his sticky white cum shot out the tip of his cock into his mother's waiting mouth. He held onto the back of her head with both hands as he erupted, forcing her head onto his spitting cock until her gag response began making her body jerk.
Mandy slurped her son's hot cum, working her tongue over the sensitive thread on the underside as she swallowed hard the cum gushing down her throat. Gripping his weaving cock with both hands now as Mark rocked his body in orgasm,
"Ohhh...That's it!" Mark cried out.
Finally his cock stopped pumping out the milky jizz, but Mandy kept sucking, her tongue licking every last drop of cum off her son's dick, her whole body was red hot. She felt like she was on fire. She imagined her son fucking her on his messy bed, pushing his cock into her until she was screaming for him to stop. Her pussy went crazy at this thought, her whole body filled with erotic sensations, some animal instinct was overcoming her.
Mandy took her son's now deflating cock from her mouth and squeezed his cock hard, forcing the last of his sticky cum onto the tip. She ran her tongue over it, taking in the last of his salty cum. Then she stood up and looked at her son, he had a contented smile on his face.
"Well mom, didn't know you had it in..." Mark started smugly.
"Fuck Me" Mandy growled, cutting her son off. "Right here, right now" she insisted, her pussy aching to have his cock inside her.Jake turned and went back downstairs. Mandy let out a huge sigh of relief, then followed her husband.
Mark stepped back under the shower, a big smile on his face. The remembrance of his mom's hot mouth made his dangling cock begin to slowly rise. Mark stroked his fat member until it was at full wood, his eyes closed, picturing the look of worship on his mother's face as she admired it.
Mark blew a satisfying wad and growled, "That's it! That's it! Suck my dick, mom!" |
11,114 | Diary Of A Student Teacher - Feb 21st 1998 | "SHIT GIRL!" screamed Judy, "Don't you ever knock?!"
"Sorry, Judy," I said a bit lamely, "I got you some coffee."
"That's okay," said Judy, recovering her composure, "I was just watching Live & Kicking."
Then she made a frantic lunge for the video control to take it off pause, but not before I saw what was on the screen.
I looked at Judy in amazement. "Ooh, you old perv," I said, "fancy masturbating over children's television!"
Judy looked a bit sheepish. On this week's Kenan & Kel, Kenan had come on in just his boxer shorts. And I have to admit, he has a hunky little body. But Judy had actually recorded the sequence, paused it, and was frigging her hungry little cunt over it.
"Hey," she said, "I get lonely in here sometimes."
"Well, don't expect me to do anything about it. You can keep your pervy nocturnal habits to yourself!"
"Oh, c'mon baby," she said in a mock chat-up, "you went to convent school didn't ya? How's about a bit of girl-on-girl with your main squeeze?" She grinned and patted the bed next to her.
"I went to an *Independent Girls' School*," I corrected, "and I am about to become a respected member of the teaching profession... *as are you*. So we don't do pervy sex with our flatmates *or* children's television!"
"Doesn't stop you shagging 50-year-old maths lecturers though, does it?" Judy called back in a sing-song voice.
I treated the comment with the contempt it deserved. "Here's your breakfast," I said and walked out, with Judy chortling & patting her bed behind me.
As I clicked the door shut behind me, I heard the "clunk-whir" of the video in Judy's room. Instead of going back into my room, as I had intended, I knelt down outside Judy's door and peered in through the keyhole. Yes, sure enough, that image was frozen again on the screen, and Judy's hands were moving under her duvet. I shook my head in amusement and was about to get up and go. But for some reason, I didn't. I stopped where I was, quietly sipped my coffee, and settled down to watch my flatmate frig herself into a frenzy.
There wasn't much to see at first, just movements under the duvet. But Judy changed position a couple of times, and the duvet started to slide down her tall naked frame. As the hem of the duvet slid down her breasts, I watched Judy smile and wriggle so that her nipples brushed against the starched fabric. I was beginning to get quite moist at the thought of that delicious feeling. So I pinched my knees together, but started to gently caress my own breasts through the soft cotton of my nightshirt.
Finally, a movement from Judy's legs kicked the duvet down to her waist, revealing her beautiful big breasts. Her nipples stood out like organ-stops, black as ebony against her dark brown skin. One of Judy's hands stayed hidden in her groin, the other moved up to massage those lovely breasts and tease the nipples. I have to confess that I was getting turned watching my flatmate. I put my coffee down and pushed one finger down between my legs, through the downy moss of my pubes, exploring the soft folds of my cunt.
I watched as Judy, irritated by the presence of the duvet, drew her knees back and kicked it away from her. She was getting hot, and her skin was beginning to glisten with perspiration. Now she sat with her knees drawn up, and her hand stroking her pussy, finger-fucking herself with three fingers and an audible plopping sound. Her strong dark thighs filled my vision, and I felt an almost hypnotic urge to move back into the room and plunge myself into their depths. Instead, I dug my finger further down between my still-clenched thighs and rubbed hard at the stiff excited little bud of my clit.
By this time, Judy was beginning to get very distracted. She was biting her lip and moaning and did not even notice when the video fell out of its pause mode. She was using both hands to frig her cunt now. But even that did not seem enough, as I watched her reach down with one of them to retrieve something from under the bed. When she brought it back up again, I could hardly believe my eyes: She was holding a huge black dildo!
Now I have to say I was not shocked that she had a vibrator, because I'm sure that most women do. I certainly have, it was a present from Malcolm, which I got years ago. But mine is quite slim and discreet. I wouldn't carry it around in my handbag with me, but I consider it to be quite tasteful. But Judy's vibrator was massive! Where mine is six or seven inches of smooth slim white plastic, Judy's must have been easily a foot in length, she could barely get her hands around it, it was jet black and shaped like the biggest penis I've ever seen!
As I watched that massive member buzz into life, I doubted that I could ever get that much plastic inside me, but Judy's ever-hungry cunny accepted it without difficulty. She gave a gasp as it slid inside her, but Judy is insatiable and her hot little box had already been reamed out by half the student population of the city. For myself, I was getting impossibly wet watching Judy. Something told me I should be back in my room, giving my own poor puss a proper seeing to, but my eyes were locked on that keyhole. Finally, I had a brainwave. I slowly eased my knees apart, rubbing at my sopping cunt & thighs & anus, with the cloth of my nightshirt. Then I pulled my cotton nightshirt over my head, balled it up and stuffed it between my legs. Then I went back to the keyhole, massaging my breasts as I watched Judy carry on.
She was shuddering awkwardly on the bed now, her hips bucking against the pelvis of an imaginary lover. The vibrator was in deeper than I would have thought possible. And her big breasts were rippling with the jerking movement of her body. I carried on molesting my breasts and tugging at my nipples as I squatted on the balls of my feet looking through that keyhole. I tried to move my pelvis, to get some satisfaction from the cloth between my thighs. And as I did so, I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out in frustration & desire.
Judy was also biting into her lip, to prevent herself from crying out as she neared her orgasm. She slid the big black dildo frantically in & out of her body, as her breath grew more & ragged. Finally, her orgasm ripped through her body from tip to toe, and she gasped at the explosive pleasure of it all.My cunt also longed for release, and I put my hand back down to rub it through the balled-up cloth. But I really wasn't sure that I could finish myself off there. Judy had eased out the big black monster from her body and was lying back, sweating and gasping for breath, on her bed. I knew she would soon be getting up, so I picked up my cold toast and lukewarm coffee and ran naked into my own bedroom to dream of that big black dildo and bring my own body to a similarly shattering climax. |
11,145 | A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner) | "Womp, womp, womp, clit! Buuuuzzzzz! Womp, womp, womp, clit! Buuuuzzzzz!" went the electric dildo.
"Eeee! Eeee! Eeee!" went Christi as the powerful current ran through her body and the shiny silver beast rammed left, then up, then right, then right again inside her.
Slap, slap, slap went her beautiful breasts as the machine bounced them up-and-down and side-to-side.
"Uuuuhhhgh, uuuuuuhhhhgh, gurgle, uuuuuh," went Kathy as Grandad stuffed his one-eyed buddy down her throat.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," went Grandad as he exploded in his granddaughter's mouth.
Kathy gasped for breath as Grandad relaxed his grip on the back of her head and his buddy slipped smoothly as a slippery snake away from her larynx.
"That's some good work there, Kathy," Grandad readjusted his privates. "No wonder you're going to be captain of the girl's sex team next year." The silver-haired man smiled and turned his attention to Christi. "Well, I guess we'd better get you off there before your nylons melt," he laughed.
He flipped the off-switch. "Had enough, Little Lady?"
"Eeeee, Eeeeeeee, Eeeeeeeeeeee," Christi replied as the dildo lost its electrical "sting" and slowly pistoned to a stop. "That was, that was --"
"Really packs a punch, doesn't it?" Grandad chuckled as he undid Christi's straps and lifted the still pulsating girl off the mammoth probe. "Boy, you're hot," he held her gingerly, "another couple of minutes and I'd have had to use my oven mitts."
Christi collapsed onto the living room floor. "That was, that was" was all she could say as her body continued to jerk in the aftermath of near-electrocution.
Grandad knelt over Christi's quivering body and admired the pattern of deep purple bruises that was spreading evenly across her self-beaten breasts. "Boy howdy," he whistled, "that thing really does a job! I don't think I've ever seen such uniform bruising in all my born days.
"Now, Kathy," Grandad said firmly, "I want you and your mother to ride these little broncos for at least a half-hour every week between now and Thanksgiving. It'll help you build up endurance and," he grinned wickedly as he stood up, "who knows, you might learn to like it as much as your girlfriend here."
"Again!" Christi tugged on Grandad's pant leg. "Do me again, please."
"You'll have to cool down a little first," he chuckled, "but I sure like your attitude."
A car horn honked in the driveway. "Well, that's the driver." Grandad grabbed his jacket, "I've got to get back to the airport." He kissed Kathy on the forehead, "now, give the family my love and I'll see you two at Thanksgiving."
"Oh," he reached into his pocket, "I almost forgot." He pressed two brightly-colored slips of paper into Kathy's hand, "here's a couple of gift certificates for the Torture Boutique, you two get some new toys."
"Wow!" Kathy's eyes bulged, "these are a thousand dollars each! Thanks, Grandad!" The happy girl wrapped herself around the massive man and hugged him tight, "and thanks for coming in my mouth. I'm on a liquid diet," she rubbed her chastity belt against his leg, "and you really hit the spot." |
11,162 | Faster than Light | "You don't believe me?" Rick asked.
"Well, no. I guess not," said Brian.
"You think I'm going to lie about something like that?"
"Of course you would. It depends what's at stake, but if you had some scheme in mind, you'd say just about anything, Rick."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing."
"Rick, I've known you, what? Twenty years? You'd sell your mom to get some skirt. Remember when Judy was coming down for the weekend and you told Liz that you were going in for surgery..."
"All right, all right." Rick's grin confessed to the charge. "But I'm not shitting you this time. I saw Tommy boffing Cheryl."
"Cheryl Sanders?"
"The one and only."
"You're a liar. What's the angle?"
"Look. Hey, Steph. Come over here."
"Rick, Brian. What's up?"
"Rick says..."
"Wait," Rick interrupted. "Let me remove all doubt."
"About what?" asked Stephanie.
"How long have you known Cheryl?"
"I don't know. Six years?"
"Do you think she'd cheat on Jerry?"
"Never. Not in a million years. You going after married women now, Rick?"
"Nope. Not Cheryl, anyway. Jerry's a friend of mine."
"Didn't stop you when Angie..."
"All right," interrupted Rick. "I just have one question. Does Cheryl have a birthmark on her tit, right there?"
Steph slapped Rick's jutting finger away from her breast. "Well," she said.
"A lopsided heart?"
"Yeah. How did you...Rick, did you...?" Stephanie's brow tensed angrily.
"No," Rick said emphatically. "I went back to the house to get my other pair of sunglasses."
"Time to trade the early morning pair for the mid-morning ones?" asked Brian with a smirk.
"Mark sat on the one's I was wearing while I was swimming, funny boy. Do you want to hear this or not?"
"Shut up, Brian," said Stephanie, as she sat down in the warm sand.
"Thank you," said Rick. "I went back to the house and just as I reached for the back door, I thought I heard Cheryl say, 'Fuck me, stud.'"
"Oooh," said Stephanie, leaning forward.
"I stopped dead in my tracks. There was some rustling and a faint moan. Then I thought, I just saw Jerry go with Steve and Allison up to the boardwalk. So then I'm thinking that I must have been wrong, it couldn't be Cheryl."
"But it was," said Steph, anticipating.
"I slowly got down on my hands and knees. I started to crawl toward the window. Then Cheryl shouts, 'What a hot cock!' She was really excited about it."
"I can't believe it," said Stephanie. "Cheryl? I've never heard her say anything dirty."
"I couldn't believe it either. I thought one of the guys had brought some bimbo back to the house. So I crept closer and peeked in the window."
"That is so twisted," said Brian with a smile.
"I wish I had my camera. Now, that would have been twisted. Anyway, I peek into the back bedroom and there's Tommy sitting on the bed with his trunks at his ankles and Cheryl's kneeling in front of him, sucking his dick."
"Wow," murmured Stephanie. "I wouldn't have guessed she'd do anything like that. She always blushes and runs off when we talk about stuff like that."
"Well, Cheryl may not talk the talk, but I don't think it was the first time she'd sucked dick. Very enthusiastic performance. Beautiful titties, too. Bigger than I'd noticed before, and big dark nips. And a birthmark."
"That's Cheryl," Stephanie confirmed, nodding.
"So then," Rick said in a low voice, "she pulls down the bottom of her swimsuit and wiggles her white butt while she's going down hard on Tommy's dick. I thought I'd blow a load, just watching."
"Rick," said Brian, blushing. "I don't think we need to know all the details."
"Shut up," said Stephanie. "Is he big?"
"Not bad," said Rick. "I mean, it was pretty long but slender. I'm no judge of meat, but Cheryl seemed to like it."
"Mmm," said Stephanie, licking her lips. "I wonder if..." Manicured nails scratched a gnawing itch under her bikini.
"Well, you'd better get a piece before Jerry finds out," said Rick. "Can you say 'justifiable homicide?'"
"You can't tell Jerry," said Stephanie, suddenly serious.
"Not me," said Rick. "But I've never seen a secret like this one kept quiet long."
"You guys tell Jerry and I'll mess you up," warned Stephanie.
"Capisch. So Cheryl's going to town and I'm thinking Tommy's going to blow but then Cheryl climbs on top of his rod and jams it into her pussy. She was so wet I could smell it."
"Wow."
"She starts riding like she was galloping to freedom. Tits bouncing, Tommy's groaning, Cheryl's just spewing obscenities; "Fuck, suck, bitch, cock, fuck, dick," and then she squeals so loud I thought the whole gang was going to come running up from the beach to save her."
"What's up?" asked Liz, sitting down between Stephanie and Rick.
"Rick caught Cheryl fucking Tommy."
"No way," said Liz, her eyes lit up.
"Sure as shit," said Rick.
"Does Jerry know?" asked Liz.
"Not yet," said Brian.
"Not ever," said Stephanie, the menace returning to her voice.
"What about Terri?" asked Liz. "Aren't she and Tommy a thing?"
"Naw. She dumped him a while back."
"Good for her."
"I didn't know that."
"Someone told me that she was..." Brian's voice trailed off.
"What?" asked Stephanie.
"She was seeing someone else."
"Where's Jerry?"
"He wanted some fries."
"Here comes Cheryl."
"You guys just shut up. Okay? Let me talk to her."
"I want to know," said Rick.
"In your dreams," said Stephanie.
"You'll tell me everything, Steph, or I'm talking to Jerry."
"Okay. Now just shut up." Stephanie growled at the gang in the sand and then turned to the figure descending from the sparse hill of sand dune. "Hey, Cheryl. Have you seen Tommy? I need to talk to him."
"Um, no," said Cheryl, blushing.
Liz and Rick fell over in an explosion of laughter. Brian got up and shading his eyes, looked toward the distant boardwalk.
"I need some fries," he said, shaking his head and taking hold of his prone friend's shoulder. "C'mon Rick, let's get something to eat.
"Sure," said Rick, wiping his eyes with a sand coated hand. "But you don't call me a liar anymore."
"Shit," said Brian. "That's the least of your worries. Let's go." |
11,168 | "Whore!" by Nick | "Whore!" he hissed into her ear.
Her body jerked as if struck by a lash.
"Slut!"
She moaned, writhing on top of him, her sudden wetness flowing over his fingers, which had been gently stroking her pussy.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he marveled at how it was possible for mere words to generate such a powerful physiological reaction. However, aware that the number of words that could be used to abuse a woman were limited, he decided on a more ambitious approach.
"You'd do it with anything in trousers."
She barely suppressed a giggle and kissed him.
"Come on, big boy," she smiled, "give me some of your meat!"
She rarely said anything during lovemaking, and he was momentarily shocked. He reappraised his approach.
"Filthy bitch!"
She sat astride him, her smile fading as her eyes smoldered once more. As he kneaded her breasts, she moved her hips gently downward, biting her lip in anticipation as she felt him against the outer lips of her sex. She gasped as, with a quick thrust of his hips, he was inside her.
Children had not been kind to the muscles of her nether regions, and her spasms were weak. It was not the physical sensations that gave him his orgasm, rather the sight of her still beautiful body bucking and jerking on top of him, her dark hair whipping about her face, the sounds of her pleasure... yes, he emptied himself inside her, his penis ejecting sperm like an unwelcome visitor.
Finally, she tumbled forward, kissing him and kissing him.
"Tell me you'll still love me in the morning," she sighed.
"You always say that, and I always do," he smiled, then he added "... my little whore!"
She hit him with a pillow, and he wrestled her back to the bed, pinning her arms. Safe from further assault, he thought he'd push his luck a little more.
"How much do you normally charge anyway?"
"Ooooooh you...", she struggled some more, but he bore down on her, kissing her full on the lips when she finally stopped turning her head from side to side to avoid him. |
11,569 | Love and War | "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," Mark laughed when he opened the door. Brian stood sheepishly at the threshold, and then held up his offering, half a case of brown bottles. "Yeah," said Mark, stepping aside, "get in here before the beer gets warm."
Brian pushed the rattling box onto the counter, tore away the perforated top, and reached familiarly into a small drawer to retrieve and deftly wield a chrome bottle opener.
"There are some mugs chilling in the freezer," said Mark, watching as he leaned against the door frame. Brian pulled open the upper compartment, releasing a misty stream of cold. Reaching in, he threaded his fingers through the rings of the glasses.
"Nice," Brian said, pouring the pale brew over the lip as the air froze grey on the seal of gold leaf impressed on the glassware. "When did you get these?"
"Rick and I went up to Manchester," Mark said, "maybe, a month ago?" Brian handed Mark the glass topped with brown bubbling foam and then knelt down to transfer the rest of the bottles onto the bare shelf of the refrigerator. Mark took a drink and sighed. Brian looked up at him sadly, and tossed the flimsy cardboard at the trash can. Standing, he picked up the other glass from the counter and carefully filled it with beer.
"Peace?" Brian asked, holding up his icy mug. Mark's dark eyes glowered, and he slowly raised his glass. A dull bell clanked as they met.
"I heard she dumped you," Mark said, nodding them out of the kitchen. Brian followed as Mark went over to his stereo cabinet and started leafing through some old vinyl records.
"Yeah," Brian said, smiling without pleasure.
"What happened?" asked Mark, pulling out a red and black record jacket.
"Same old story," Brian said, and he took a drink. "She ran off with someone better." He laughed gently, amused by his soft jab at the both of them.
"No way," said Mark, pulling the album carefully from the paper folds. "I've met the guy. Steph's taste has been on a serious decline, well, since she left me." He placed the record on the old turntable and set the needle on the spinning track. |
11,588 | A Treat For Marshall | "Do you like it?" she asked anxiously. Marshall looked up. His first impulse was to flee, with the hounds of guilt baying at his heels. There before him stood the embodiment of all his secret desires, his most private and primitive fantasies - the young voluptuous female, bursting and bulging through the pathetically inadequate garments of the young schoolgirl. She was perfect; from the crumpled white knee-socks and black flat-heeled shoes with round toes and ankle straps, to the blonde hair, neatly parted down the middle and tied each side with white ribbons. Her navy-blue skirt, which hung unevenly and barely reached halfway down her thighs, was held up, not by the yawning zip-fastener, but by the spectacular swell of her hips. Only two of the buttons on her prim, white blouse could be fastened at all; the vast between gaped wide open before the spinnaker thrust of her breasts. Deep between them, like a striped mast, lay her precious school tie.
A pulse beat sharply at Marshall's right temple, another in his groin. He tried to speak, but only a croak escaped his dry throat. He looked up at her and a worried frown appeared on his face. She seemed tense and anxious; the pale full lips trembled. "My dear child..." he murmured, extending a sympathetic arm. She collapsed on top of him, tears streaming down her cheeks, and wrapped her convulsing body around his torso. Somewhat bewildered, Marshall patted and clucked reassuringly. As the intensity of the outburst subsided, he managed to locate and extract his elusive handkerchief and separate her head from his chest for long enough to dab away most of the tears. Eyes brimming, she favored him with a joyful smile, kissed him tenderly on the cheek and nuzzled in against his neck. With all the turmoil, the top button of her blouse had come undone. The sight of her naked breast, which in his position he could not very well avoid looking at, noticeably discomposed Marshall. In his world, sex and sympathy were not compatible.
He made a clumsy attempt to pull the blouse together, but she thwarted his efforts by grasping one of his hands and placing it firmly on the exposed breast. The contradictory sensations of pliant firmness and cool warmth experienced by his hand were intensely pleasurable, but the rigid set of his shoulders, head held stiffly erect, eyes fixed heroically on some imaginary horizon, seemed to deny that this was so. Still, he found the regular gentle pressure of breast against hand, caused by her deep and even breathing, reassuring, and presently a tingling hypnotic calm stole over him such as he had experienced hitherto only occasionally, when having his hair cut by his regular barber. Through all that followed, he never quite lost the feeling of drowsy euphoria, in which all his thoughts and actions could drift, dreamily and disconnected from time and place.
In that tranquil state, both her hands settled on his; taught his fingers gently to knead the breast and roll the nipple between forefinger and thumb; and when it was erect, she pulled his head down and plugged the nipple between his lips. "Bite...uh...uh...not so hard...chew it, yes, like that." The quiet, peremptory tone urged him on. Now her busy hands conveyed his calm unresisting ones down to her yielding lap. What little there was of the skirt slid back to the waist, the full white thighs flowed apart, and Marshall found his fingers contending with the elastic of her copious white school knickers. "Not yet. On the outside first." He pressed tentatively against the material at her crotch. Underneath it was spongy but resilient. As he pressed and stroked, the fabric became damp and redolent with her secretions. Marshall caught a hint of the musky scent and, disengaging his mouth from her nipple, leaned forward and sniffed. She chuckled deeply, ruffled his hair and whispered "Lick me," confidentially in his ear.
Marshall was beset with academic doubts. To what part of the anatomy did the personal pronoun refer? Or did she mean all over? The doubt was promptly resolved when she hooked a couple of fingers through the crotch of her white school knickers and, pulling them athletically aside, patted the exposed mons Veneris encouragingly. Before you could 'Pavlov's dog', Marshall had whisked off his glasses. He approached the prospect from above, and like a man eating oysters for the first time, tentatively applied his tongue to the hair-fringed gap at the top of her crease. Her fingers wriggled and the outer lips rolled back to unfurl before him a broad pink furrow curving down the slope. She was sopping wet. The freshly turned layers of inner flesh glistened wetly; there was a faint squelching of ooze; trails of juice seeped down her thighs. No sooner had his tongue probed a little further than it touched a small oval ridge standing in its path. It was as though he had accidentally set off the alarm for every emergency service in the city, she became a howling, wailing, caterwauling siren of sexual frenzy. The white school knickers were flung aside; she seized his head and thrust her gaping sodden cunt repeatedly against his mouth.
Together they twisted and turned frantically. Somehow he was on the floor, kneeling between her thighs, lapping thirstily at her flood of female liqueurs. Now she was squatting over him, smearing her dribbling cunt lips over every inch of his face. And Marshall loved it; the humid, cheesy aroma; the warm, slippery succulence; the taste and touch and tang of it; but above all the sheer marvel of being utterly inundated with cunt.
She collapsed on to his face and they tumbled over. Once more her hips rose and the legs wrapped around his neck; but whereas in the public arena he had felt stunned, humiliated, now his tutored tongue worked at her clitoris with a precise dedication that drove her on from paroxysm to moaning flailing paroxysm. A sudden, sharp intake of breath preceded a moment of complete stillness. Her back arched acrobatically and the rigid legs locked Marshall's head in a vice-like grip. As her hands clawed at the carpet, a long, strangled, gurgling screech strained out between clenched teeth. The abdominal muscles trembled and twitched spasmodically before the entire frame was seized by a series of violent shuddering convulsions that finally left her a limp, exhausted heap gasping for breath.
When Marshall finally ventured to look about him and observe the devastation he had caused, he was not a little awed by the power it seemed was in him to unleash. A simple smile of child-like wonder spread over his face. Then he began to feel his age. He creaked awkwardly up on to the sofa and while massaging loose the rigid tendons at the back of his neck, carefully practiced bending and unbending his rackety knees.
Preoccupied with the state of his joints, he did not notice that the young schoolgirl had begun an unhurried exploration of his flies. What he did become aware of, gradually, was the alternation of peppermint freshness and clammy warmth on the head of his penis as the soft, glutinous suction of her mouth moved slowly up and down. Electric fingers fondled his surging sack, moist lips nibbled along the length of his shaft, her industrious tongue sought out his most sensitive places and the relentless suction built up, with agonizing slowness, its massive potential. As her mouth and fingers worked his engorged member, every nerve and capillary in his taut frame came searingly aglow until his entire being pulsated, incandescent with sensations. Presently, his erratic breathing failed altogether. In the deathly hush, his heart struck sharply against the drum-tight rib cage. Then, with a seismic rumble that shook the floorboards, Marshall erupted.It was as if through all the barren years his withered root had lain dormant, secretly gathering unto itself the generative power of the lost seasons until at last - its cells finally charged beyond endurance, like a vast throbbing dynamo of seminal energy - in one profligate coruscating ejaculation, it unleashed all its fecund store. Joyfully the young schoolgirl drew back to welcome the hot buds as they cascaded forth and burst into flowers on her upturned radiant face. With reverent hands, she anointed her womb and spread his balm generously over belly and breasts.
Marshall put on his spectacles and looked down at her in wonder. She settled back, eyes shut, serene face turned upwards. Idly her fingers stroked her school tie.
With the swiftness of a final curtain, embarrassment descended on Marshall. Why didn't she close her legs instead of lying there, gaping? A thought struck him. He glanced down, coughed, and briskly tucked himself in. His tweeds felt prickly and uncomfortable; he longed for a good hot bath. What was the matter with her? Why was she still lying there like that, white blouse open, navy blue skirt upturned around her waist, white knee-socks clinging to her calves, and her face splattered with his spunk, rubbing her school tie in all that sticky mess?
Marshall stood up. "My friend," she said quietly, "I have something to tell you." Oh dear, thought Marshall; is she going to tell me she's underage? He sat down, fidgeting uneasily. "I'm still a virgin!" He suppressed a small urge to rip open his tweed trousers. Instead, at the door, he turned for a final look. She lay there like a discarded doll, one arm stiffly holding her white school knickers aloft. "Present," she said, and he snatched them into his pocket. Striding down the corridor, he felt positively roguish. |
11,617 | Lurid Robbery part 3 | "With my cock down your throat, you can't see what's going on, slider," said Jack. "Your little sister is eating my friend like a big league dyke. I think it is something you should see. Two ladies making love to each other is so fucking hot. Don't you think?" he said as he withdrew from her mouth. He twisted her head around. "Watch your sweet little lezzie sister eat pussy," he growled as he forced her head to within a few inches from where her sister was forced to perform.
Jan sat right up on Kim's face, planting her cunt squarely on the girl's chin. She spread herself open, asking Kim to pay attention to the clit. "Ah, the clitoris, lick it you little dyke." Kim obediently stuck her tongue out and licked at the distended clit.
Jan rode her face like the pro she was. She brought her hands to her breasts and began to pinch her nipples. Jan harshly inhaled with each pinch, and further forced her pussy back onto her 'lover', coating her cheeks and chin with her juices. She was very close to her first climax of the night.
Jan came quickly with one guttural grunt, and then unexpectedly stood up and walked over to her knapsack. What she produced from her bag simply shocked Jack. She took out a strap-on dildo; a huge, glistening, black, 10" cock. She snorted with glee as she stepped into the straps. "Be prepared, I always say. You never know when you will need one of these," she said proudly. She tightened the belts around her waist and legs. The final strap, between her legs, tightened against her now puffy pussy lips. She shuddered with excitement as she adjusted it.
She seemed to take on a different demeanor as she sluttishly strutted around the room, doing an obscene 'dick dance'. "I figured since you watched that sweet darlin' eat my pussy so well, I'd give you a real show. It gets me real hot, havin' a cock now..." she said as she passed Jack, thumping the dildo against his thigh.
Chris literally spit his penis out, and ran to her sister. They both cuddled each other, with the elder trying to get her younger sister to stand up. Jack tucked himself in, and strode over to the pair. He grabbed his cocksucker by the arm, and twisted her around so that her back was facing him. Testosterone boiled in his veins, resulting in a total dropping of his own defenses. He glared at her naked back, and measured her kidney area. With one short punch to her left kidney, Chris fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
He wanted to punish her, and images of pro wrestling flashed through his mind. He saw elbow drops to the small of the back, and he knew he wanted to try it. Drawing in his breath, he slapped his right elbow once and set himself to fall.
He crashed down on the lumbar region of her back. Even though most of the force of the fall went through his legs and buttocks, enough pressure fell onto her back to cause her to shriek in pain. She gasped for breath. He lay across her back, wanting to do it again.
He rose again, this time with sadism in his eyes. He fell upon her once more, this time with more force. The girl gasped for breath, and laid motionless under his elbow. Her arms were now mostly limp, and not struggling against her bonds.
He picked her up by the shoulders, dragged her over to the couch and flopped her down. She slumped in the seat, legs dangling over the edge. She was still stunned from the punishment she had absorbed. He took her belt from the floor and quickly tied her one ankle to the couch leg. He was careful to make sure it was tight, but not too tight. "Holy shit," he thought to himself, "look at this. Long and lithe in bra and briefs. All mine. And...a real live lezbo love scene."
He sat down next to her, and put his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her prone body close to his. A free hand wandered over her left breast. With his finger, he gently traced the outline of the entire pap. He rubbed it with his flattened palm through the satin of her bra, eventually centering on the nipple with his first two fingers. He pulled and squeezed it to involuntary erection. He pinched it hard with his thumb, and Chris' breath was heard as she inhaled loudly. His own breath became short as he brought his mouth to it. She tried to pull away, but his grip around her shoulders and her tied leg kept her in place.
He hungrily munched on her nipple, pulling and chewing at it with his teeth through the satiny material. Her bra quickly became soaked with saliva. He smiled, and snarled, baring his teeth. He sunk his teeth into the centre of the sensitive nub, and hungrily chewed at it. She moaned with each bite. He released his hold on her nipple, and reached for his knife. Chris trembled as she saw him pull her bra outwards. The blade slipped between the satin and her skin. The tip of the knife easily pushed through the material, and he cut the cup of her bra away, leaving her breast and abused, beet red nipple sluttishly outlined by what remained of her bra cup.
Jan was wrestling with Kim on the floor in front of them. She was attempting to pin Kim on her back. Jan, a farmgirl, was quite strong for her size. She was also quite adept at wrestling around from her past experiences with women. Straddling Kim, she took her by the shoulders and forced herself on top of her, pinning her with her own weight.
She forced her own body between Kim's legs, spreading them wide. She quickly guided the large plastic glans to Kim's sex. She guided the tip of the dildo to her pussy lips with her right hand. With one single thrust, she succeeded in penetrating her by a couple of inches. Kim continued to try and escape, but her struggling only forced the dildo deeper into her own twat. Bit by bit the ten-inch phallus worked its way into her. Everytime Kim twisted her hips, she felt the huge glans penetrate her a bit further. Jan knew the phallus was big for her new lover, but didn't really care. She was fully buzzed by the acting out of a favourite fantasy. With one final thrust of her pelvis, Jan finished penetrating the young athlete.
Jan began to rotate her hips, grinding herself against Kim. She slowly started an in-out rhythm with her 'cock', really fucking her lover. Kim's eyes were bugged out. She whimpered as the assault continued.
"Arrrggggh," screamed Kim as she felt her young pussy being stretched further and further. Her mind raced through her own short sexual experiences, and she had never had anything this big in her. With each thrust, she felt that her tender pussy might split.
"I bet you've never been fucked like this?" Jan said in wide-eyed glee. "A woman as man, yet remaining a woman." She drove herself home again, burying the dildo deep. She took a handful of Kim's hair in each fist, and brought her face to her own. She kissed her, forcing her tongue between the girl's lips. Her own muffled sounds of pleasure blended with whimpers of her captive.
Plunging his hand down the front of Chris' panties, he began to play with her still hidden clit, almost expecting it to poke its head out. Slipping two fingers between her nether lips, he fingered her. In and out he drove his fingers; too dry to gain full penetration. Her panties bulged from where his entire fist was.
"Hey Jack, you want a piece of this?" asked Jan between thrusts. "We could share this one. A little DP would be quite a buzz!!"
Jack, needing some real lovin', looked at the pair on the floor. He leered at their coupled sex, and wondered what it would be like. He had never thought much about anal sex, never mind double penetration.
Jan saw his hesitation, and teased him by rolling Kim over atop of her. She grasped the girl's ass cheeks in her hands, spreading her ass wide. Kim's tiny puckered anal flower was clearly seen."This could be yours," she growled as she thrust upwards with her dildo.
Kim realized what was about to happen and began to squirm again. Jan wrapped her arms tightly around her 'lover' and squirmed back and forth with the terrified teen. Each time Kim tried to disengage herself, Jan pulled her back into her. The skewered Kim moaned with each thrust. The excited Jan loved the forced contact with her clit.
Jack gently kissed Chris on the lips and told her, "Watch this." He stood and dropped his pants in a heap of denim. His raging erection protruded from him, acting as a kind of homing device for Kim's exposed anus. He could barely control his erection as he stroked it. Kneeling behind the prone Kim, he wet his ring finger and pressed it against the naked bud before him. "It's sandwich time, honey," he growled as he penetrated her with his finger.
Kim began to flop around like a fish out of water, whimpering in fear of her anal deflowering. Chris cried in disgust as he pumped one, then two fingers up her sister's ass. Pleas of 'No' were heard from them both.
A lascivious smile appeared on Jack's face. In an angelic tone, he soothingly said, "Well, it seems like you don't want me in your ass, deary. That's okay...I won't sodomize you."
He winked at Jan, who let Kim roll off of the dildo. She rolled up in a ball, tired and frightened. Her sister tried her bonds again, and of course could do nothing but motion her sister to her.
As Kim crawled towards her sister, Jack reached down and intertwined his fingers in her hair. With a mighty pull, he hauled her up to her feet. She shrieked as he pushed her against the wall. "I didn't say I wouldn't fuck you, honey."
He pushed his knees between hers and aimed his raging hard-on at her center. He placed the bulbous cockhead at her labia and thrust in with one stroke. Garbled moans were heard from Kim as he gained full penetration. "You are one tight cunt," said Jack as his hands fell to her ass cheeks. He pounded into her while lifting her slightly by her hips.
Jack turned around so that his back now rested against the wall. His strong arms wrapped themselves along Kim's sides, and he again grabbed her taut flesh. "Hey Jan, this little bitch pleaded with me not to fuck her ass, but she didn't say anything about you. Let's make us a sandwich!"
The pretty teen immediately howled as she heard these awful words. Her legs tried to kick at her assailant, but they did nothing but strike at the wall. Jan's warm, slender fingers soon joined Jack's on Kim's ass. Spreading the cheeks wide, she let the dildo touch Kim's rectal star. Jan grabbed a handful of Kim's hair and pulled her face and lips towards her. Cheek to cheek with Kim, she whispered, "Nothing better than being this full, eh, sweety."
She thrust her hips towards Kim and gained a few inches of penetration. Cries of pain were heard as Jan rotated the fat dildo deeper. Jack reached under her thighs and lifted her up, pinning her on his cock and the dildo. Every time Kim tried to squirm away, she skewered herself deeper on Jan's dildo. Soon the beautiful teen was sandwiched between the two.
"Christ, this is fuckin' amazing!" howled Jack as he pumped into Kim. "Fuck me, you bitch, fuck me," he shouted as he ground into her. Jan pulled Kim's head back fully and was fully French-kissing her, tongue swirling around Kim's tongue. All Kim could do was moan into Jan's open mouth.
Jack could feel the huge dildo through Kim's thin membrane, and it made her already tight hole tighter. Jan now rested her hands in the middle of the teen's back and started to thrust deeply into her ass. In and out, she harshly plundered the girl's virgin ass.
"Feel that cunt! Do ya?" she shrieked as she slapped into her. She pulled her 'cock' almost all the way out and slammed the full 10 inches deep. Kim gasped and then suddenly went limp. |
11,639 | Sight | "Oh, yes! He's *definitely* sexy!" Marlene was talking about my husband, Craig! I really don't know Marlene that well even though we're next-door neighbors in the same apartment tower. I had seen her around enough to say "hi," but we'd never had more than a few short conversations in the corridor.
I hate to say I don't really think of my husband as being sexy, but I think you know what I mean. We love each other and our sex is good, but, well, I usually associate the word "sexy" with someone like Patrick Swayze. I mulled over the concept of Craig being sexy and then realized Marlene was watching me curiously. She seemed to want a verbal response.
"Craig?" I'm not one of those people adept with the comeback, especially when I'm a little embarrassed.
"Oh yes! I bet you two have a *great* time in *bed*!" This was definitely a little more intimate than I was ready for. I felt my heart beating in... panic. At least a little panic. I stared at Marlene and wondered if she had designs on Craig. Marlene certainly was attractive. Her most noticeable feature was her long, rich red hair, which didn't reach her waist, but was close. She had light skin, with a few tiny freckles, and had great features. Her body was slender, but her breasts were definitely noticeable. She tended to dress a little like a sixties hippie--colorful tops, jeans, casual and almost rumpled. Did she have plans for Craig? Or did they have something going? If so, she wouldn't be telling me like this. But, then again, Marlene seemed a little strange. I wasn't sure.
"I'm sure you must find your own boyfriend quite adequate." It just came out: I didn't want to sound jealous. Sometimes I'm quiet when I want to be talking, but still blurt out the *worst* things.
She giggled. "You mean my *boyfriend*," she corrected. I really hadn't been certain if they were married or not. "Oh, he's quite fine as you say," she said, still smiling. "I just was imagining your Craig driving *you* wild, is all. Must be something to see." She was grinning at me! Then her face settled into this sly smile, her eyes still locked on mine. I couldn't hold her gaze and glanced down. I mumbled something about having to go, and she walked me to her door. She stood in the doorway as I walked away, and I couldn't help thinking she was watching me.
I was so confused. Was she going to try and trap Craig? Would he go for it? I know some guys have a weakness for red hair. Craig's never said anything about that, but I wasn't certain. Were they already seeing each other? Marlene seemed to have few inhibitions--what would she be like? What would they be like?
I had to get a grip on myself. I was letting my imagination get the best of me. I sat in a chair in our living room, feeling weak as a baby.
That afternoon I heard giggling outside. The balconies of our apartment and Marlene's are adjacent, and hers is easily visible from ours. I looked out the window. She was on her balcony with her boyfriend! Her boyfriend was laying on his back, his head towards me, and Marlene was straddling him! She was looking down at him and giggling. He was dressed, but she had her jeans off--just panties and her top! She leaned down and kissed him. His arms went around her neck.
Then she slipped out and started unbuttoning his shirt. Soon she had it open. Then she ripped his t-shirt, leaving his chest exposed! She went on, undressing him while he lay there. He helped by lifting his body a bit once in a while. I watched, entranced. Yes, she got his underpants off, revealing his cock! Soon she had him completely naked and she was straddling him again. She rubbed his chest and fingered his nipples. And she bent down and kissed him again.
Then she went back up to straddling him upright and started unbuttoning her own shirt! She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were absolutely *perfect* looking--not too large, but well-shaped and not sagging a bit. Then she slipped out of her panties and they were both completely nude. His hands went to her breasts and fingered her nipples. She smiled down at him and pushed his hands back down. She reached behind her own body, without looking--I was sure she had grabbed his cock. She just kept smiling at him.
Then she raised her body up off him, and I saw his cock standing straight up. She positioned herself over it and descended slowly, guiding it with her hand. I think the guy wasn't looking at her anymore, he was staring straight up into space. She raised herself slowly until she was all the way off his cock, and then slid down on it again! She did that a few more times. Then she started slowly moving up and down, but not enough to pull all the way off--a slow rhythm.
She was looking right in my direction! I was sure she couldn't see me for the glare on the glass. She smiled. She slowly increased the speed of her rhythm, but continued to look right at me. I watched her lithe body slide up and down, up and down. She arched her back a little and put her hands behind her neck, thrusting her chest out more.
I was wet. I loosened my pants and slipped my fingers in. Her eyes looked straight up and then she shut them, still moving up and down at a moderate pace. Her eyes slowly opened, her lids still half shut, looking my way again. She had that sly smile of hers again. I couldn't help myself. I pushed fingers inside myself, and drew them out, then manipulated my clitoris in a frenzy. She giggled again, and then laughed out loud, still speeding up. I came and came. |
11,657 | Dungeon of Desire | "Tsk! Then you'll need to be restrained and gagged," Shantila replied. I said nothing. She went back to the dresser. She returned with a rope. It was white and soft, but I feared it all the same. Shantila bound it around each of my wrists as I lay with them at my face on the table. Then she pulled both my wrists out in front of my head. She bound the free end of the rope tightly around an old radiator behind the desk. It didn't work, but it was very firmly bolted to the floor.
Shantila fetched a gag. She urged my lips apart and carefully fitted the gag between them. Then she tied the ends of the gag behind my head, in my hair. She stroked my hair down off my back so she could see all of me.
Shantila stepped behind me again. She was about to restrain my feet when the doorbell rang.
I froze. This had happened once before. It had been a mere salesman, and Johnson had turned the person away, but I had felt mortified lying over his desk, just out of view of the door, with my hands tied to his radiator.
Shantila, sensing a unique opportunity, went to the door. "Yes, may I help you?" she asked, opening it.
"Hello, madam. Have you had an uplifting experience today?" I heard a voice ask.
"No, but I know somebody who's about to..." Shantila said. "Would you like to talk to her?" I felt fear grip my tummy. How could she? This was unspeakable.
I heard a sniffle, as if the salesman had a runny nose. "Well, actually, I don't mean to intrude. Perhaps if you'd just purchase one for her," the voice continued.
"Come in, you dolt. Do you have to be dragged in?" Shantila snapped. I don't know if she grabbed him or not, but, a moment later, to my intense embarrassment, I found myself glancing back over my shoulder and coming face to face with the nerd! It was the same one who'd drooled over me as I checked my skirt on my way up here. How had he managed to...?
I gazed at his rumpled shirt and his (non-matching, of course) shorts. He must have followed me! He had a big handful of sales literature for something or other. I yanked at my bonds. I kicked one of my legs back, trying to break free of my totally awful predicament. Who knew what this bookworm would say about me? Could I ever park in the garage again, knowing he might be lurking there, waiting for me and hoping to score a peek at my ass?
"She does have a lovely ass, doesn't she?" Shantila asked the nerd. She could see his fixation with my behind and it bothered her not when he failed to reply at all. His mouth hung open and his tongue seemed to have trouble staying behind his teeth. I watched to my mortification as a drooling drip of saliva formed on his tongue and dropped toward the floor.
"Are you...are you..." the nerd stammered.
"Am I going to spank her? Yes. She gets spanked here once a week. She's paid for it. Would you like to watch? She has little say in the matter, as you can see..."
"Um, yes. Do you think she'd like to buy some MiracleGlow brass cleaner too?" the nerd asked. "It's good for polishing... your brass."
"I'll polish your ass if you speak to me again of buying anything," Shantila said. "What do you think this is, the Internet?"
"Um, no. Though it's sort of like..." the nerd said, gazing at my ass. "Could I take pictures of her and upload her ass to all my buddies? I need some new porn to trade and stuff."
"Just watch and enjoy," Shantila said. She put a finger to his lips to quiet him. Then she made a face and drew her finger away and shook it in the air. "You're drooling!" she scolded him. "Confine your drooling to your member, please!"
"Do you have a magazine I could use or anything?" the nerd asked. He unzipped himself. I felt like a lavatory!
"Zip up, boy. It's bad enough you're drooling your spit all over the carpet. I don't need to clean up your jism too. I'd advise you not to cum if you intend to wander all around inside this building selling your..."
"MiracleGlow Brass Cleaner! It's the best!" the nerd said. He proffered his booklets again.
"I don't see any..." Shantila said. She grabbed the booklets from him.
"You have to ORDER it! I just collect money and give you a booklet to show you've bought and how to use..." the nerd followed Shantila to the window. She raised it and flung his booklets out into the open air. I felt the warm air of the city flow in and touch me upon my behind.
"What are you doing to my literature?!" the nerd shrieked. He watched in horror as all his booklets went flying out onto the wind, to compete with the pigeons in the air.
Shantila closed the window. "They'll all still be down there on the pavement waiting for you to pick them up after you're done," she smiled. And it was true, I knew. They'd all be down there, lying in the alley.
"Well..." the nerd paused. His eyes darted from the window to my bottom. He put a contemplative finger beneath his chin.
"Here. Clean your glasses," Shantila said to him. She ripped a Kleenex from its paper box and handed it to him.
Shantila came up behind me. I struggled in my bonds but it was fruitless. She directed the nerd to bring her a spreader bar from the chest of drawers to keep my legs apart. He complied. He found the bar and brought it to her, but he couldn't open its telescoping ends. She had to pull it apart for him. Then she had him bend down and affix it between my ankles.
"Ow!" the nerd cried. He injured his finger trying to buckle my ankles into the bar. Finally, after much effort, he succeeded. I felt like kicking him, but Shantila was standing right there with the paddle."Tarzan said. "I have had that same belief myself."
"You have?!" I asked. This really shocked me. I thought God, as an 8-year-old girl, was my own invention. Tarzan pulled a crumpled sheet of paper out of his loincloth. It was a little sweaty from being next to his dick. (I don't think he had any underwear on.) He spread it out on the flat surface of his David Hamilton book. He looked at it reverently. Then he handed it to me. (I took it with delicate fingers, as it had the sweat of his groin on it.)
"I'd keep that next to my heart, except I don't have a shirt," Tarzan told me. I nodded. The slip of paper had been photocopied by somebody. Tarzan asked me to read it aloud to him. Here's what it said:
GOD'S NEW COMMANDMENTS
Greetings! Today I am going to share an important truth with you. It is this: God is an 8-year-old girl!
What does God look like? That's hard to say. She's God, after all. But it has been revealed to me that by studying the book, 'The Age of Innocence,' we may see God in all her many forms and varieties. No one girl in 'The Age of Innocence' is God herself. But each one is a 'humanized' version of the divine being, God.
How does one worship such a God? By reading the book, 'The Age of Innocence'! What an excellent book this is for such a purpose. Lots of little girls are contained within its pages. All types and varieties of girls, so that every man may find one or more to his liking to worship. I might look at one girl, and worship her. You might look at another girl, on another page, and worship her. But we will BOTH be worshipping the same God!
All of this was revealed to me today, as I speculated upon the photographs compiled by David Hamilton, of beautiful young girls in 'The Age of Innocence'.
Why has God chosen to reveal her true essence at this time? Because she is dissatisfied with the way we men have been living here on earth.
In the beginning, God created heaven and earth. Then she created man. She created man in her image. However, she gave man an extra appendage, to give him something to do with his hands, and to amuse herself.
Later, man insisted that he have someplace to put his extra appendage, especially at night, when it tended to harden. So, as a receptacle for man's appendage, God created woman.
But God is dissatisfied with how things have developed here on earth. We men have put the receptacles in charge of our lives! This is greatly displeasing to God. She intends for us to worship Her, but instead we worship the receptacles!
The time is ripe, gentlemen, for a new religion. Recently I heard one of the receptacles speak. It was the president of NOW, the National Organization for Women. She said, "Sexual harassers are everywhere." She wasn't asked about date rapists, but we all know what her response to that would have been: "Date rapists are everywhere." And so on, with all the other legal categories which have recently been created by the receptacles to control and manipulate men.
God does not want us men treated like this! Receptacles, in charge of our lives! For this reason did God command that 'The Age of Innocence' be made, celebrating HER form, so that men might learn to love Her again.
It is hereby commanded by God that all men purchase 'The Age of Innocence,' and read it on a daily basis. It is also commanded that ye go forth and convert others to a worship of God. Stand on the street corners and proclaim Her religion! Demand that it be taught in the schools! And don't forget to deduct your purchase of 'The Age of Innocence' on your income taxes. You are making a charitable contribution to God when you purchase this book. Buy several copies. Hand them out to friends and co-workers. And deduct all of them on your taxes.
Thus sayeth the Lord.
p.s. The proper offering, if visited by God, is a lollipop. (Preferably a cherry lollipop.)
(humbly transcribed by the disciple perply.)
"Perply?!" I cried. "He's stolen my religion."
"He said he read about it on his computer. Whatever that means," Tarzan told me. "Turn the paper over. There's more on back."
I turned the paper over. Here's what was on the back:
PRAYING TO GOD
It is essential, as a believer in God, that you pray to Her. Here is how it shall be done:
1. Prepare for bed.
2. Kneeling at your bedside, place 'The Age of Innocence' upon your bed.
3. Look at the pictures in 'The Age of Innocence'. Fill your mind with the beauty and grace of God. Whisper to God of your secret passions, hopes, and desires.
4. Proclaim loudly your love of God, while looking at your favorite picture(s) in 'The Age of Innocence.'
5. (Optional): Make tribute to the Lord God. (Be sure to have a box of tissues handy if you do this.)
6. Retire to bed, rid of all thoughts of the receptacles, your mind filled with the glory of God.
Thus sayeth the Lord.
"Clever," I said. "But I still don't like Perply stealing my religion."
"The monkey's out of the tree now," Tarzan said to me. He took back the paper. He folded it up and stuffed it back in his loincloth. Its presence there made his loincloth bulge out a little more than it was already doing.
"So," I said. "Are you a believer in that claptrap?" (I was starting to dislike my religion a little, now that Perply had stolen it from me.)
"Of course," Tarzan said. "Praise be to God!" Then he opened up his David Hamilton book and began looking at it intently. "Personally, I think that one is God," Tarzan said to me. He pointed to the girl on page 48, in the upper right hand corner.
"I'd pick her too," I said to Tarzan. "But I think I'm going back to being a Lutheran."
"What did that ever do for you?" Tarzan asked me.
"Hmmm. Nothing," I admitted.
"See?" Tarzan said. "No wonder you didn't get any results. You were praying under a false religion. Anyway, who looks better? This girl, or Martin Luther?"
"The girl," I answered.
"How about if you were a Catholic?" Tarzan asked me. "Would you rather worship the Pope, or this girl?"
"The girl," I admitted.
"How about if you were a Mormon?" Tarzan asked. "Would you rather be with this girl, or with Joseph Smith?"
"The girl," I said.
"You see?" Tarzan asked me. He pointed to his chest. "In my case, I used to pray to a giant monkey. Thank God I found out about this new religion! Maybe it will even get me a wife!"
"That would be better than fucking a monkey... or spanking one, too," I said.
"That's right," Tarzan said.
We got off the bus singing hymns to our (new) God and shouting 'Praise the Lord!' People smiled at us, until we held up the David Hamilton book. Then somebody called a policeman.
AND IN THE END...
NEED AN OSCAR?
"Academy members are suckers for sentiment. They will sometimes crown an actor as much for personal misfortunes as for the performance given. It is wonderful what afflictions, unhappy love affairs and tales of child abuse surface in the window of time between an Oscar nomination and the voting for the awards."
- The Economist, March 14, 1998, pg. 96. |
9,935 | Tomato Woman | "So where are you from?" I asked her. Being on the bridge relaxed me: the traffic there was dense, but the noise seemed muted by the breeze, or the flow of water underneath us, or the vibration of the concrete. The engine fumes dissipated instantly in the open air. Interference brushed off into the open space around us, and I felt alone with her there, and far away. But I couldn't think of what to say, so I asked her that.
"From Svitlaskianda," she said, "Which is part of what you call Far East Asia. But via the South Pacific, and via North Boston."
"Wait...Far East, North Pacific, South..."
"It's a strange history," she said, "If we ever have a few hours, I'll tell it to you."
I stared at the water below us. There were no well-formed reflections of the city on the river's surface -- neither the tall, angular, monochromatic towers, nor the lush green sloping banks -- everything sort of churned together, shapeless and mottled.
"I don't think I could talk about anything at all for a few hours," I said.
She looked at me curiously.
"Knowledgeably, I mean. I don't think there's any subject in the world I know enough about to just...lecture for whole hours."
She nodded with a trace of a smile. "I guessed that about you: that you got bored quickly." For a few seconds, I could see the grey flow of the river reflected in her eyes, then she looked up to watch the sun slash itself on the tall skyscrapers. I hoped the bleeding light would last a long time, mesmerize her with its poignant colors, lock her in with emotion. But it didn't; after a few seconds, she stood back from the rail and said, "Right, I have to go now." |
9,947 | A "Farrell" Story (Late for Dinner) | "Eeee! Eeee! Eeee!" went Christi as the powerful current ran through her body and the shiny silver beast rammed left, then up, then right, then right again inside her.
Slap, slap, slap went her beautiful breasts as the machine bounced them up-and-down and side-to-side.
"Uuuuhhhgh, uuuuuuhhhhgh, gurgle, uuuuuh," went Kathy as Grandad stuffed his one-eyed buddy down her throat.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," went Grandad as he exploded in his granddaughter's mouth.
Kathy gasped for breath as Grandad relaxed his grip on the back of her head and his buddy slipped smoothly as a slippery snake away from her larynx.
"That's some good work there, Kathy," Grandad readjusted his privates. "No wonder you're going to be captain of the girl's sex team next year." The silver-haired man smiled and turned his attention to Christi. "Well, I guess we'd better get you off there before your nylons melt," he laughed.
He flipped the off-switch. "Had enough, Little Lady?"
"Eeeee, Eeeeeeee, Eeeeeeeeeeee," Christi replied as the dildo lost its electrical "sting" and slowly pistoned to a stop. "That was, that was --"
"Really packs a punch, doesn't it?" Grandad chuckled as he undid Christi's straps and lifted the still pulsating girl off the mammoth probe. "Boy, you're hot," he held her gingerly, "another couple of minutes and I'd have had to use my oven mitts."
Christi collapsed onto the living room floor. "That was, that was" was all she could say as her body continued to jerk in the aftermath of near-electrocution.
Grandad knelt over Christi's quivering body and admired the pattern of deep purple bruises that was spreading evenly across her self-beaten breasts. "Boy howdy," he whistled, "that thing really does a job! I don't think I've ever seen such uniform bruising in all my born days.
"Now, Kathy," Grandad said firmly, "I want you and your mother to ride these little broncos for at least a half-hour every week between now and Thanksgiving. It'll help you build up endurance and," he grinned wickedly as he stood up, "who knows, you might learn to like it as much as your girlfriend here."
"Again!" Christi tugged on Grandad's pant leg. "Do me again, please."
"You'll have to cool down a little first," he chuckled, "but I sure like your attitude."
A car horn honked in the driveway. "Well, that's the driver." Grandad grabbed his jacket, "I've got to get back to the airport." He kissed Kathy on the forehead, "now, give the family my love and I'll see you two at Thanksgiving."
"Oh," he reached into his pocket, "I almost forgot." He pressed two brightly-colored slips of paper into Kathy's hand, "here's a couple of gift certificates for the Torture Boutique, you two get some new toys."
"Wow!" Kathy's eyes bulged, "these are a thousand dollars each! Thanks, Grandad!" The happy girl wrapped herself around the massive man and hugged him tight, "and thanks for coming in my mouth. I'm on a liquid diet," she rubbed her chastity belt against his leg, "and you really hit the spot." |
9,631 | Learning From a Master, part two | "It's okay, boys," Al tried to reassure them as he bent his ear to the sleeping girl's face. "It's alright, she's breathing; she's just unconscious from lack of air, you big he-man, you!" he joked, slapping Greg on the back. Greg smiled feebly. "I know throat-fucking is a new experience for you, and it feels real good, but you gotta remember that you have to let the babes breathe now and then!" Al smiled at him, and the two boys laughed rather hysterically. Al didn't want to waste time; he knew from experience that his sleeping beauty would wake up soon. "Boys, I've got some toys you can play doctor with," he said, opening a small bag. He showed them a speculum and how to open it. "Stick it in her cunt and open 'er up!" Joey put it in and stretched her pussy wide. "Give it another notch or two, Joe," Al said. Joey opened it until he was afraid to stretch her any further. He peered inside her open cunt.
"Wow," he said softly, scarcely breathing. Al gave him a flashlight, and Joey moved closer. He was speechless.
"Believe it or not, Joe, some doctors get to look in there all day long!" Al laughed. "You know, if you want to get rough with her clitty, now's a good time to do it, when she can't feel anything." Joey looked at Al and then at Silky's clit. He placed his thumb and finger around it and slid them down to its base. Grasping firmly, he stretched it. It didn't go very far. He looked at it for a moment and then took his hand away.
"No, I like playing with her, but I don't want to hurt her. I remember how she cried when she was awake. I don't want to be mean."
Al looked at the boy happily and said, "That's good to hear, Joe. I was a little worried about you for a while there. You can have a lot of fun with girls, make 'em your slave and do whatever you want, but hurting them just for the sake of hurting them is never a good idea. I'm proud of you, boy." He patted the boy's shoulder warmly. "That butt plug is the only thing I do to Silky that hurts her. Sometimes I feel bad, but it's...well, it's just something I hafta do! Look, why don't you take out that speculum and fuck her pussy. You ain't done that yet, and we gotta break your cherry!" He winked at Greg. With his usual gusto, Joey did as Al suggested. His big boy's cock was in its usual erect state and slipped into her pussy easily. He pumped away in ecstasy.
"Ooo! Ohh!! God, she feels so good!" he cried as his movements grew in force. "Oh, oh, unnh!!!!!!!!!!" he screamed and collapsed on top of her. She was still passed out.
Al put the speculum away and spoke to the boys. "You know, the other things that hurt, she enjoys. You boys heard of nipple clamps?" Greg had. "They're cool. There's also nipple piercing, but I'm not into that. You can buy fancy clamps at a sex store, but you don't need 'em. Clothespins work good, but my favorite is these hangers," he said, taking a slacks hanger from the closet. "You put these clips on her nipples, then you can put a string on the hanger part and tie her up. It hurts, but it's a good hurt, and once a girl gets used to it, she craves it. Attach it like this, just behind the nipple." He demonstrated, then handed it to Greg. Greg got it right on the second try, Joey on the third. As they finished their practicing, the sleeping slave stirred.
When Silky came to, she was lying on her back, her head hanging over the edge of the bed. She was aware of intense pain in her ass and nipples. She remembered the ass-reaming she'd endured, but wasn't sure about the nipples; she raised her head and discovered the attached hanger. Her head fell back, and as she moaned from the pain, a cock was shoved into her mouth; her legs were spread, and another cock rammed into her cunt. She was unable to see her invaders, and as balls slapped against her eyes and nose, she concentrated on breathing when the thick pole was not in her throat. Each time the face-fucker pulled back, her nipples were stretched; Al had tied a rope around his hips and attached it to the hanger. Hands squeezed her pulled tits as hard as possible, causing swelling around her nipples and increasing the tightness of the clamps. Although the ass-rending that still throbbed had been pure agony, this pain was different. It was erotic, and as the double fucking and tit torture intensified, she climaxed violently in an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure. Her muffled screams were matched by two more masculine cries as the boys came with her. "Oh god, oh god, that felt so good!" Joey exclaimed, lying in a heap next to her. "I never knew fucking was so great!"
Greg collapsed on top of her. "Yeah, man. Silky is the best!" She smiled happily, thrilled that she had pleasured them so and proud that she had done well for her master.
"I'm not sure which I like better, her pussy or her mouth," Joey said. Silky realized then that they must have been fucking her when she was unconscious. After a few minutes, Al asked them to help him move her, and she was handcuffed spread-eagled again. He also attached the rope of the hanger to the headboard so that her tits were stretched up and back. She tried to arch her back but was unable to keep it up. Her poor nipples screamed for release, but she endured this silently. She knew Al was enjoying showing off his mastery over her to the boys.
"It's after midnight, Al," Greg said. "We gotta go, or mom will have my head for keeping baby brother out so late."
"I ain't a baby anymore!" Joey said proudly.
"That's right, Joe, you're a man now!" Al said, smiling at him. The boys dressed quickly, but before they left, they each gave Silky's silken pussy a farewell lick. Joey spread her lips and pushed his tongue into her hole. "Wow, it tastes so different with our cum in it. Boy, I'll never be afraid to lick pussy again, that's for sure!" he said, and everyone laughed as they went out the door.
"So, babe," Al said, jamming a finger into her agonized ass, "you want me to fuck you now?"
Did she ever! But she could not tell him this; lowering her eyes, she said, "Whatever my master wishes."
"But do you WANT me to?"
She was thrilled! "Oh yes, master, please fuck me!"
He went into the bathroom for a few minutes, and when he came back, he knelt between her legs. He spread her lips very wide and licked her crack. "Mmm, you taste good with their young jizz up your snatch!" He licked her fervently until he felt her about to climax; then he climbed off the bed. He pulled the bedspread up over her legs and torso, leaving her arms and her clamped, stretched tits exposed to the cool air. "I'm tired, babe," he said. "I don't think I'll fuck you tonight after all." Wrapping his big hands around her tits, he squeezed them very hard for a long time, increasing the pain until she had to cry out. Still squeezing, he bent down and gave her a long kiss. "Good night, babe," he said softly. He climbed into the other bed, turning out the light and leaving her there, bound and stretched and alone in the dark. |
9,765 | Nancy | "Know what I like?" asked Nancy.
"No," I said sheepishly.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll have to show you," Nancy said. I watched the short brunette walk away from me, her thin cream skirt swaying with each step.
Nancy had been showing me all day. Just after Andrea and I arrived, I had been sitting on the couch with Nancy's husband, Will, watching the game when Nancy bent over to reach a packet of photos, lifting her thin cream skirt just enough to persuade me that this timid sweet friend of ours had come out to play. Her skirt was indecently short, and no panties were in sight. I think the most provocative thing I had ever seen Nancy wear, before that day, was a black one-piece swimming suit. On occasion, I have glimpsed the brown shadow of her nipples through a mask of cotton and lace. Nancy's pretty even when she's acting prudish, and I've tried a few times to loosen Will's tongue after a few beers.
"If she's in the mood," the slightly intoxicated Will had said, "when Nancy feels in charge, she's unstoppable. If she's on to other things, she'll just frown."
Nancy sat down nearby. I tried to control my burning desire to stare between her lean thighs. I glimpsed a dark curl in the shadows when Nancy suddenly spread her legs and showed me the pink lips of her pussy. I drank a deep stare and then looked to see if Andrea had seen. She watched the television, mesmerized by some instant replay.
I turned back, but Nancy had hidden herself again. I studied her lustily, my senses aroused to discover Nancy's erotic worth. I liked her body, there was no question about my attraction for her firm, high ass and virgin white breasts. I wanted to push my dick into her mouth, let her cocky little smile wrap around my rod. I wanted to grab her mousey hair and show her how to fuck.
"Here," said Andrea, handing me a beer. I took the bottle and drank. My wife sat down beside me. Nancy leaned over an ottoman, her skirted bottom lifted up. I gasped at the thought of Nancy exposing herself to me again. I lay my hand on Andrea's thigh and stroked the tanned flesh as I watched Nancy's skirt slowly rise. Andrea slipped deftly down along the cushion and pushed her damp pussy against my fingers. I felt the wet velvet of Andrea's cunt as Nancy's lips glistened feet away.
Will excused himself.
"Know what I like?" asked Nancy, reaching back to rub her bare pussy and looking at me.
"No," I said, fingering Andrea.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll have to show you." Nancy winked as she dashed away.
I slipped down onto the floor, to lick my wife's pussy. Andrea teased my black curls as I tongued her wet spot.
"No panties?" I asked.
"I didn't think you would notice."
"I noticed."
"Everyone always notices. I don't know why."
"A woman without panties is living treasure."
"Anyway, let's go see," said Andrea.
"Go see?" I asked, following her up the stairs.
"What Nancy likes. She said she'd show you."
We stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom. Nancy knelt naked on the bed, Will's enormous prick in her mouth. Andrea started to rub her pussy. Nancy waggled her upturned bottom, so firm and white, so moistly lascivious in the furrow.
"Fuck me, Steve," Nancy said, pulling the large staff from her lips. "This is what I like."
I looked at Andrea. She stared at Will's cock.
"You do the bitch," she said. "I'll take the dick." Andrea quickly pulled off her blouse as she moved to distract and eventually oust Nancy as first tongue on her husband's cock. I took my place in the backcourt. Nancy's wild when she's in the mood. |
9,895 | Carol's Rectal Therapy, Pt.3 | "Since you seemed to like your examination so much, here's what we're going to do," Butch began. "Tom is going to insert this 14-inch colon tube into your bottom. While he's manipulating that, I'm going to take this dildo and insert it into your vagina. Don't worry; although it's shaped like a boy's penis, it's small enough so you'll remain a virgin. When it's inside you, I'm going to turn it on so it vibrates your insides."
Carol was shocked and mortified at what she was being asked to endure. She knew if she resisted or even protested, the strap would come out and she'd be in worse shape than she was in now. She also had the conflicting feeling that she was going to enjoy this...even want it. So she just lay there in position as Butch inserted the vibrating cock and turned it on. A flood of sensations began to course through her entire genital region. Then she felt the familiar cold feeling as the 3/8-inch diameter colon tube was inserted into her rectum and began its journey up past the first flexure and up the descending colon. Butch was now rubbing her clitoris back and forth between his fingers, and her smooth ass cheeks were dancing from side to side as much as the restraints would allow. Tom was pushing, pulling and twisting on the colon tube as Butch manipulated the vibrator inside her once-secret female parts.
Soon Carol's hips began bucking forward with increasing intensity, and the two doctors renewed their efforts. With the simultaneous stimulation of all three of her sensitive regions, it wasn't long before her body began jerking and convulsing. She cried out with pleasure as wave after wave of orgasm overcame her. She bucked forward, then back to force the colon tube and vibrator farther inside her, then she slid forward again to get the sensations nearer her openings. Finally, drenched with perspiration, she relaxed, still breathing hard as a result of her exertion.
"My, my, Carol. It seems as if your first orgasm was a hard one! Now you know what the other girls have been talking about when they discuss orgasms. And you now should realize why women want to experience those feelings over and over again," Butch said as he stroked the hair away from her eyes.
Carol lay silently, ashamed of her nakedness, of her having an orgasm in front of her doctors and being completely spent as the waves of pleasure subsided.
The colon tube and the dildo were removed, her pussy and anal areas cleaned off, and her restraints unfastened. Her wrist and ankle cuffs were removed, and she was allowed to sit upright, which took a little getting used to after her ordeal in the various positions that night.
"I think that's enough for one session, Carol," Butch said facing her. "It seems like your problems are more digestive than anything else. A treatment regime of proper diet and special enemas should bring you back to normal. As your father told you, you will remain here for a few days so we can continue your treatment."
As she sat naked on the table facing the two young men, she was so tired that she wouldn't think of questioning them on their decision.
"Yes, doctor, I understand," she said in a small voice.
"Good. Then we'll get you to your room and let you sleep. Tomorrow will probably be another long day for you," Tom said with a smile.
"Thank you, doctors. You've both been very nice to take the time to treat me," she said sheepishly and with a little smile, remembering her manners.
Carol climbed off the exam table, and still nude, followed Butch and Tom to a spare bedroom. She kissed both of them lightly on the cheek and immediately snuggled in under the covers and closed her eyes. As she tumbled into a deep sleep, all she remembered was the crest of her first real orgasm only a few minutes ago.
END. |
10,738 | "Romantic Interludes" | "Jeremy, please make love to me."
Eyes wide, my head shot up at the soft, simple request from my fiancée, Lisa. Seated on the sofa next to the chair I was in, while I read a magazine, Lisa's expression was rather gentle... almost innocent.
I had been engrossed in my reading while Lisa watched one of her favorite television shows here in the living room. Her request for romance was completely out of the blue. But at the same time, it could not be called a surprise. I have come to expect just about anything from my darling fiancée.
Lisa's brown eyes flashed with quiet lust as she patted the sofa cushion next to her - giving me an invitation. How could I ever possibly refuse her?
"With pleasure, sweetheart," was my response as I dropped the magazine and joined her on the sofa.
Lisa squealed with glee as I embraced her with both arms, my lips moving toward hers for a kiss. Our lips met and shared a gentle exchange for several seconds, my arms firmly around Lisa's voluptuous body. Then, I felt her tongue sneak out and gently swipe away at my upper lip. In return, I extended my tongue and met hers... then we both moaned.
Once I slid my right hand from her back down to her bottom, Lisa increased the ferocity of the kiss. I pinched her jeans-clad bottom and she squealed, then our shared kiss became really intense. Lisa's tongue dove deeply into my mouth and swirled around its walls and recesses in mad, frantic circles. She wrapped her arms around me as well, and offered a firm embrace. My tongue sought hers, and the two subsequently got into a playful "sword" fight.
With both hands now, I cupped her curvaceous bottom and squeezed it hard. Lisa moaned and sagged against me, but nonetheless continued the ferocious onslaught upon my mouth with her lips and tongue.
My cock already felt as if it was about to burst inside the confines of the dark slacks I wore. Lisa had her pelvis pushed hard against my erection, grinding away at it. I was well aware that if she kept that up, my shaft would soon explode right in my slacks.
Not wanting to do that, I broke the kiss and pulled away from her a little bit. Lisa looked at me as I dropped to my knees on the floor, with her still on the sofa above me. Then, she giggled with glee as I reached for her white blouse and started undoing its buttons. My blonde angel continued smiling as I finished off all of the buttons.
Lisa whisked off the stylish blouse in a hurry, leaving a white bra as the only thing keeping her from being topless. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, my hands going for the bra-snap behind her back. While doing so, I nuzzled my lips against her neck and kissed its sensitive skin. Lisa sighed contentedly as I unsnapped the bra and kissed her neck, then I pulled the white garment off of her.
Even though I have seen her nude hundreds of times, I had to stop for a brief moment and admire Lisa's breasts. Large and firm, her breasts are the type which I could worship for the remainder of my life. They are, in a word, perfect. A lovely pair of 37c's, each breast is capped by a puffy pink aureole, with a sensitive nipple in the center of each.
I moved my right hand to the underside of one of her firm breasts, then lifted its sensual weight. As I cupped and squeezed her round breast, Lisa let out a moan in response.
Eventually, however, my mouth descended toward one of her nipples and started to suck gently. In return, Lisa sighed and placed both of her hands on either side of my head.
Soon, I began swiping my tongue over and across her erect nipple. Lisa continued to voice her approval as my mouth moved between her ample cleavage and tasted its sweet delights. I could hear her nearby heartbeat; it was going at a mile-a-minute. My hands then cupped and squeezed both of Lisa's breasts as I continued paying homage to her wonderful cleavage. She sighed while running her long, supple fingers throughout my short brown hair.
"Hmmm... I love you," I mumbled into the deepened valley between her breasts.
"I love you too," she squealed, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "I love you more than anything."
I embraced my 20-year-old fiancée tightly, yet still continued to feast upon her cleavage. As is often the case during one of our lovemaking sessions, however, Lisa had something else than simple foreplay or kissing on her mind. That, of course, would be fellatio.
"I want to give you a blowjob," came her breathy moan. My face detracted from her cleavage, and I stared up at her. "Can I?" Her request was so sweet and genuine. It conveyed her intense desire for sucking cock.
I smiled at her, then slowly stood up. "I'm all yours."
Lisa giggled with lust as she slid from the sofa and dropped down to her knees in front of me. Quickly, her hands went to work on my belt, unlooping and then taking it off. She ripped at my slacks, pushing them and my briefs down in a rush. As a result, my erection sprung up and dangled between Lisa's beautiful face.
As she smiled and gently grasped my cock with her left hand, I managed to step out of my shoes, then kick my slacks and briefs away as well. What a mix - Lisa was nude above the waist, whereas I was nude below the waist. I had on a shirt and she still wore jeans and sneakers.
On her knees, Lisa glanced up at me, her brown eyes aglow with passion and lust. I could not help but to shudder with excitement as Lisa extended her tongue and offered my full erection a loving swipe. She giggled at my response, then teasingly ran her tongue along the full length of my cock.
"Do you like this?" she squealed at me, holding back a laugh at the same time. She already knew the answer.
"Oh yes!" I exclaimed. "Ohhhhh sweetheart... ohhh... no one can suck cock like you. No one at all!"
She giggled at my praise, a happy expression upon her face. I would find it very difficult to go on in life without Lisa's expert mouth to service my cock. It is no joke to say that I have become addicted to her.
I gasped as Lisa's left hand slowly tightened around my enlarged shaft. Again she giggled, this time while giving it a couple of hard squeezes. All the while, her eyes stayed in direct contact with mine. What a powerful sight; her piercing eyes in contact with mine as she caressed and squeezed my erection. But then...
A deep, drawn-out moan escaped from Lisa's throat as she slipped my shaft between her pouty, red lips. As her left hand cupped my testicles and gently squeezed them, Lisa closed her moist lips around my member and began to feverishly suck upon it. With her right hand, she grasped the very base of my cock and started to pump away at it.
Quickly, I whisked my shirt up and off. Now, I stood before her - completely nude.
Within a matter of seconds, Lisa was working my hard cock in and out of her mouth at a steady, but not fast speed. A deep moan escaped her throat as she looked up at me, which in turn caused me to sigh. Seeing her mouth stuffed with my cock while she looks up at me is a definite turn-on.
I growled with sheer passion as I felt the tip of my cock collide with the back of Lisa's throat with each hot intake. The collisions came quicker too, due to the increasing speed of Lisa's head as she bobbed back and forth upon my erection. Meanwhile, she continued to knead my balls with her left hand, while pumping the base of my cock with her right.
Lisa made a loud gagging noise as her cheeks hallowed around my hard cock, her head now bobbing back and forth at warp speed. She was sucking me off like there was no tomorrow; as if this was her last act on Earth. I growled in pure passion above her while reaching the boiling point.
All of a sudden, Lisa whipped my shaft out of her mouth. In one quick motion, she encircled its base with both of her hands, while extending her tongue from her wide-open mouth. She aimed my cock at her tongue...Then I roared in lust as a thick strand of cum shot out from my shaft and splattered over Lisa's tongue. She began pumping away at me with both hands, wanting more. I obliged her, as a series of heavy spurts erupted from within me and covered Lisa's lovely face. The whole time, I kept moaning while getting the royal treatment from my angel fiancée.
Once my shaft was drained of all its juicy sperm, I opened my eyes and looked down at Lisa. Her face and long blonde hair were soaked in my cum, but she sure didn't seem to mind. In fact, Lisa was giggling in lust as she wiped her face with her fingertips, then sucked each dry.
"Oh, you are definitely a sweetheart," I grinned while dropping to my knees and kissing a dry spot on her forehead. "I love you Miss Lisa - more than anything."
She continued giggling while sucking her fingertips dry of all the thick jizz. "I love you too, Jeremy."
I smiled at her. "You're so great at sucking cock. Let me return the favor - I want to eat your pussy."
"You can eat my pussy," Lisa chirped, "only if you promise to fill me with your cock afterwards."
I shook my head and laughed at those words. "How could I refuse such an offer? You got a deal, sweetheart!"
Lisa flashed a charming smile as she spread her thighs and then laid down upon her back. With her knees in the air and feet on the floor, she offered me a wide open, direct invitation to her sweet pussy. The only problem was, Lisa was still completely dressed from the waist down.
No matter, as I took care of that minor problem in just a couple of seconds. Quickly, I got rid of her sneakers and socks, then slid her jeans and panties down and off. Lisa spread her thighs wide again, giving me an open invitation.
I felt life jump back into my shaft while laying down and positioning myself between her stretched thighs. Wasting no time at all, I grasped Lisa's hips with both hands and then extended my tongue toward her intoxicating spot...
Lisa moaned and shuddered with excitement as I swiped my tongue across her moist clitoris. I lapped away at the tender skin-flap, my hands massaging her round hips.
"Oooooh..." Lisa groaned in undeniable arousal. "Ooooh, I want your tongue in me... Please... Your tongue..."
I drove my tongue deep into the wet recesses of her pussy, tasting its many treats. At the same time, I moved a finger to her clitoris and began diddling with it. Lisa let out her loudest moan of the night at that new sensation.
I continued to lick away at her womanly folds as she started to rumble and vibrate upon the floor. My tongue was moving very quickly; I was swiping it around inside her as fast as humanly possible. Of course, she tasted great.
Once I plunged my tongue all the way inside her, Lisa's stomach muscles tightened violently and she let out a loud, deafening squeal of sensual approval.
Even though I had her very close to an orgasm with my mouth, I decided that there was a better way to bring Lisa off. She had earlier requested that I penetrate her. Now, it was time to grant her wish.
Growling with lust myself, I rose up to my knees between Lisa's widespread thighs. My cock was fully erect once again; ready to give my beautiful fiancée the type of hot workout which she treasured the most.
Lisa squealed with sheer delight as I mounted her in the missionary position. Fisting my cock, I pressed it hard against her tight slit and rubbed it in erotic circles. Lisa moaned as her face rocked from side to side, in utter pleasure. She loves it when I tease her like this.
Nevertheless, I was not in much of a teasing mood. Very quickly, I forged my enlarged shaft between the tight confines of her damp pussy, and slid it all the way inside. Both of us moaned with extreme passion while I settled my cock deeply in her - as deep as it could possibly go.
As is always the case, Lisa's insides were gripping and clutching my erection like a powerful, unforgiving vice. I had to wince at the pressure upon my cock; it almost hurt. No complaints, though - it was a good hurt. I welcomed it!
Lisa cried in passion as I pulled out slightly, only to thrust back into her very powerfully. My arms hooked under her knees, at my shoulders, I started a series of forceful strokes that made Lisa growl with lust.
My thrusting hips quickly reached a thunderous speed and as a result, my testicles slapped hard against Lisa's tight, upturned bottom with each forward plunge. Together the both of us rocked and screamed in unequaled desire, our bodies quickly becoming drenched with perspiration.
I kept pounding her, harder and harder, and soon she dug her sharp, red fingernails into my back. That, however, only made me slam her harder.
While thrusting away at her, my mind was lost in a sea of lust and desire. I couldn't think. My body was simply relying on instinct now. I kept drilling Lisa, jamming my hard shaft in and out of her at a furious, remarkable pace. An earth-shattering pace. An unbelievable pace!
Lisa's body was flopping around beneath me as I continued to hammer her, while her firm, plentiful breasts bounced about wildly in the process. It was truly an intense, heated coupling - just the type that Lisa and I enjoy.
Suddenly, I growled in a passionate rage, then buried my shaft all the way into Lisa's overheated slit. I had sensed an explosion within me coming, and knew that it was now time.
Lisa screamed in passion as a helping of sperm jettisoned itself from my cock directly into her pussy. I continued to empty my seed into Lisa, wanting to flood her insides with my thick and gooey cum. Initially, there were two large gushes of sperm that shot out... and they were followed by a series of several smaller ones.
Once I was tapped out, however, I lost all of my strength and fell down directly on top of Lisa. Both of us had experienced the ultimate togetherness between two people. Though exhausted, we reveled in that wonderful feeling.
After our encounter, Lisa and I lay together in the sweet aftermath, enjoying the closeness of satiated bodies. I held her in my arms, simply relishing her. I love this lady with all of my heart and soul.
11 months from now, when Lisa and I get married, I will truly be the happiest man alive. Of course I could make that claim now, too - just having Lisa in my life, whether she is my bride or not, is cause enough for great happiness.
[The End] |
10,818 | FRESH PRODUCE | "Ma'am, are you okay?"
Nora looked up from the cold, linoleum floor where she lay blinded by the bright fluorescent lights. For a brief instant, she thought she had died and gone to heaven.
"May I help you? Do you need medical assistance?"
As her vision began to focus, Nora realized she was staring directly into the biggest pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen. His gentle face was encased by ringlets of jet-black hair.
The Angel Gabriel had come to bring her to heaven and she was lying flat on her "ass."
"I think I need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!" she murmured.
He smiled and extended a slightly muscular arm to help her to her feet. The entire back of her dress was drenched with chocolate milk.
"What happened?" he asked.
She could feel her face becoming beet-red. This was surely the most embarrassing moment of her life, and thank heavens she wasn't going to be on "Candid Camera." She hoped.
"Can't be for certain. One never knows why one falls. I am known to be a klutz." Nora suddenly wished he would just vanish and leave her in peace during her moment of pathetic self-pity and humiliation.
"Hey, guess there's no use crying over spilled milk!" he replied.
His response didn't help at all. It just increased her desire to cry.
"Um, that was pretty lame, sorry. Look, are you sure you're okay? Perhaps we should call the manager and fill out a form or something. You could file a lawsuit if you're hurt."
"No, no, I am fine -- really. The only thing bruised here is my ego."
She refrained from making any negative comments about the degree to which her well-padded derriere had cushioned the fall.
Now it was his turn not to laugh.
"Well," she said, "Welcome to Cliche City! Now we're even. One-on-one. Tit-for-Tat."
"Yeah, like meeting in a grocery store isn't the most clichéd place of all. This is getting so corny I am going to introduce myself. Hi. I am Henley."
"Hi Henley, I am Nora. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Nora. Can I treat you to another carton of chocolate milk?"
"I feel like a complete idiot. A well-educated, mature woman drinking chocolate milk," Nora blushed.
"Hey, I drink it too. Man, I still eat Pop Tarts." He glowed at the thought. Henley had dimples the size of half-dollars.
"Pop Tarts!" I used to love the chocolate ones with the marshmallow centers," Nora laughed.
"Not as much as I adored Captain Crunch cereal," Henley added.
Nora's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. "I ate that every morning for ten years." She paused. "No wonder my growth was stunted."
It had just occurred to her that Henley was towering above her. She was at least a foot shorter. He must have been 6'2" - maybe more. She felt like Sprout next to the Jolly Green Giant.
This reminded her: she needed some French cut green beans.
"Wanna go grocery shopping, Madame?" he confidently asked.
"There is a God," Nora replied.
"Pardon me?" Henley looked confused.
"Nothing. I'd love to go shopping with you, Sir. If you don't mind being seen with a woman with a chocolate-covered butt."
Henley laughed. A good hearty, fiber-enriched laugh. "Not at all -- my pleasure." They began to stroll down Aisle Five, their carts side by side.
"Soup." Nora stopped. "Soup, uh, soup is good. Soup is good for you."
"Yes, that is what they say. Hmmm. I think I'll stick to basic tomato," Nora said.
"You say ta-may-toe, I say ta-mai-toe," Henley sang off-key under his breath.
Aisle Six beckoned.
"Fruit." Henley stopped. "Canned fruit."
"Yes, canned fruit is good," Nora added, "I like peaches. Pineapples, I can deal with pineapples too. I like the ones shaped like little rings."
"Peaches and cream," Henley chimed in, "that would be heavenly . . . used to stick my tongue through the hole."
"I beg your pardon?" Nora's eyes were wider than ever.
"The pineapple rings, you never did that as a kid?"
"No, we just used them as life preservers for our Barbie dolls. So, Henley, do you live around here?"
"Ah, the BIG question. And I wanted to ask you first. Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I do. Live right down the road at the St. Tammany Apartments."
"NO WAY!" she exclaimed.
"Way."
"I live there - so you can't possibly."
"Why? Is the St. Tammany too small for the both of us?"
"Too much chocolate milk in one place. Maybe we should lay off of it."
Henley laughed again. Nora surmised that his choosy mother had chosen Jif, by the depth of his dimples. He looked around forty -- give or take a couple of years.
He could have been reading her mind. "How old are you Nora, if you don't mind me asking."
"Fifty-four!" Nora exclaimed.
"You're fifty-four? Wow. You look fabulous. I am hitting the chocolate milk again tomorrow."
Nora giggled. "No silly, I meant the peas are only fifty-four cents a can. Not bad."
"No, not bad for a can of peas. Ever notice that frozen peas always look a funny shade of green?"
"I'm thirty-eight."
"Years of age or thirty-eight cents a can?" He winked at her.
"Very funny. Don't let me forget the coffee."
"Yes, Ma'am." Henley stopped and grabbed a bag of rice. "I'm thirty-nine."
"Wow. Marvelous. Someone my own age," Nora mused as she picked up a box of saltines and tossed it into her basket.
"Like you said, there is a God." Henley groaned as one of his grocery cart wheels suddenly stiffened, forcing him to delicately negotiate the turn into Aisle Seven.
"I really hate it when that happens," Nora remarked. Henley suppressed the urge to complain about the absence of lubrication.
"Fresh produce!" Henley exclaimed as though it were a truly novel concept.
"These red grapes look fabulous! Look how ripe and succulent."
"HEY MISSY! Don't be using words like "RIPE" and "SUCCULENT" around me or I'll be squeezing the "CANTELOUPES" next!"
Henley began to juggle three russet potatoes in the air.
Nora was trying to feign an interest in the bananas as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was so handsome, so friendly and so spontaneously funny.
"You look pretty fascinated by those bananas there. Looking for a REAL big one?"
"Henley, are you trying to flirt with me?" Nora batted her eyes, ever-so-subtly. Or perhaps ever-so-evidently.
"Yes, I believe I am. It's not every day you meet a beautiful, brown-eyed brunette with a chocolate-covered butt - a nice butt, I might add."
"Thank you." It was a royal flush.
"You are beautiful." Henley dropped all three of the russet potatoes on the ground. His expression turned serious and dream-like as they stared into one another's eyes.
Nora felt as frozen as the vegetables in Aisle Ten.
With the speed of a dribble of Heinz Ketchup slowly emerging from a bottle in a TV commercial, Henley reached over and kissed Nora briefly but passionately on the lips. Her ice cream was beginning to melt. Any minute now it would be turning to liquid and start seeping out of the edges of her box.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear.
Nora's common sense was telling her that leaving with Henley might not be the most sensible idea in the world. But a rush of adventure had come over her. Grocery store fever.
"Okay," she said seductively. A little too seductively, she thought. Henley took her hand and led her down Aisle Eight.
"Where are we going?" Nora asked.
"Wanna live life, really live it?"
"Yes, I always have -- what?"
"Tired of feeling trapped in the same environment, of living in the Saint Tammany Apartments, your mundane job, shopping for chocolate milk and tomato soup and overripe bananas?"
"Yes, yes!" Nora was becoming another person.
"C'mon!" He led her to the back of the store. The Meat Department. He pushed the swinging doors open to the butcher shop. No one was back there. It was very cold and raw meat was hanging everywhere. Henley led her through another door.
"How do you know your way around here? Do this often?" Nora asked, her pulse rate flying.
"Worked here as a teenager through high school. There is the stockroom."
He pulled her into the room and shut the door. It was dark. Henley immediately began to kiss her, deeply and sensually. Nora let go and allowed her passion to take over. It was scary, sexy, adventurous, and dangerous. She knocked over a couple of boxes of Cracker Jacks as Henley began to unbutton the front of her dress. He kissed her neck and ran his tongue slowly down to her breasts. Nora could feel herself wanting more from him as he ran his hand under her skirt and into her panties. Their breathing became faster and heavier.Nora was running her hands through Henley's mass of curls as their lips locked in an inseparable embrace.
Before she knew it, she was on the floor, amongst cartons of chocolate chip cookies and boxes of gingersnaps. Nora's dress fell to the cement floor, as she lay in her matching black panties and bra in front of Henley's hungry eyes.
The thought that someone might walk in and catch them any minute made her as creamy as a Twinkie.
"Lick me like the middle of an Oreo," she cooed.
"Baby, I will eat the best part first and save the rest for last," Henley replied as he pulled down her lace panties and ran his hand between her wet thighs. His fingers easily slid from her buttocks to her vagina, where his fingers nestled deep inside her love hole. She moaned in ecstasy, then spread her legs as wide as she possibly could, almost hoping someone would walk in and watch - in all her glory.
"Oh, Nora," Henley mumbled as he gently massaged her swollen clit.
"Henley, oh God, that feels wonderful," she exclaimed in pleasant surprise.
"Not as wonderful as it smells," he began to use his warm tongue to dip into the exotic pudding that filled her pastry.
He pumped her vagina with his fingers, her juices flowing as he drank and sucked her round, hard almond in a sensual frenzy.
"You taste like heaven."
Nora gasped and shuddered, as she climaxed in his mouth, dripping like an ice cream sundae on a hot summer day. He relished in it, the icing to his cake.
Once her convulsions subsided, her face became glazed over with a sultry look, as she frantically unzipped Henley's pants and freed his tortured, hard member.
"Hot dog!" She giggled and teased him with her soft touch. He raised his body to her beautiful face, touching her cheeks lightly with his Oscar Mayer Wiener. Nora took his penis into her open, full mouth like a popsicle. She sucked him hard and ran her tongue along his needy shaft, until he was begging for mercy and his hot, hearty soup came out like an open floodgate, filling her mouth as it dribbled everywhere else too.
Click!
They could see the lights under the doorway.
"Hello?" a deep, older voice asked. "Anybody in there?"
Henley put his hand over Nora's mouth. She could feel her heart beating against her chest as she tried not to breathe.
After a minute, they could hear the intruder's footsteps moving away. Close call.
They began to giggle. Their moment was gone. Like adolescents they snuck out, back to the safety of their grocery carts.
Minutes later, Henley helped Nora put her groceries into the trunk of her car. The wind was cool that night, blowing a breeze through her long, brown hair. The back of her dress had become stiff where the milk had dried.
"Henley?" Nora said.
"Yes?"
"What happened in there, I just don't know if it was right. I got carried away and..."
He looked deep into her eyes. "Nora, I thought you wanted it."
"Yes, I mean, no.
"What? You can't say it wasn't good."
"I'm not saying it wasn't good, I am just saying... Hell, I just met you! You're a complete stranger. I need time to get to know you. I like you, and I want to do this right."
"It's okay. I guess I got carried away too," Henley replied.
"Can we start over?"
"Sure," Henley said. "Sure. You are absolutely right. I like you too and I want this to be more than just..."
"Sex?" Nora filled in the blank.
"Yeah, but you are sexy, you know. Little Miss Cantaloupes."
"Okay, Henley, enough. Ask me to dinner. No more stock room sex, at least not tonight."
"No stock room sex. I promise. It's a deal."
He began to rummage through her shopping bag.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
Henley pulled out her new carton of chocolate milk and let it fall to the ground. Chocolate splattered all over his clean khaki pants.
"We are starting from the beginning, Miss."
"No use crying," Nora said, standing in the puddle.
"No use crying," he repeated.
"Hi, I'm Nora." She reached out her hand.
"Hi, I'm Henley." He lightly kissed it.
"Nice to meet you," Nora said. "Very nice to meet you."
They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. Then, Nora and Henley burst out laughing.
"That was a good one, Honey," Nora giggled. "The stock room? Did you really work in the stock room?"
Henley laughed. "Why yes, I did, Honey! I thought it was rather exciting! But you didn't have to go and spill the milk!"
"Sweetheart, you didn't have to spill it AGAIN!" Nora chimed as she got into the passenger's side of their car.
Henley took the keys and got into the driver's side.
They drove off into the moonlight, covered in chocolate milk, holding hands, and smiling. As their car pulled away from the parking lot, they could hear an announcement on the supermarket's intercom system.
"Clean up on Aisle Two." |
9,399 | The Bank Manager's Radio Controlled Slave | "Ah! Is that you, Susan? Karin here." She announced, realizing that Davinia had not answered her phone.
"Hello, Karin. How are you? Did you wish to speak to Davinia?" Susan replied, as she watched her wriggling with discomfort.
"Not particularly, is he, I mean SHE with you?" Karin inquired.
Susan laughed. "Yes, she has been taking dictation."
Karin giggled. "That was probably difficult for her! But if you are busy, I will switch the device off. I was playing with the manual override."
Susan assured her, "No, we've finished the letter, she is all yours, although she is writhing on the floor now!"
Karin replied, "Oh dear! Poor thing! Ask her if she would prefer to forego pleasure for a fortnight, will you? Do you mind?"
Susan protested, "No, of course not!....... Davinia, would you prefer to forego pleasure for a fortnight?"
Davinia moaned her agreement; anything was better than repeated ejaculation. Susan continued, "Davinia prefers a fortnight without pleasure!"
Karin apologized, "Okay, thanks, sorry to have interrupted you."
Susan answered, "It was my pleasure to be of assistance, I assure you!"
Karin said, "Really? In that case, you must come to my next little soiree, you'll probably enjoy that more! She's all yours anyway, bye..."
Davinia had straightened herself up after the infernal device had stopped. Susan instructed, "Continue from the beginning, I trust you will read properly now!" Davinia sat uncomfortably in her sticky panties and hoped she would be able to escape to the ladies' room shortly.
At seven o'clock, Davinia finished the last letter and covered her typewriter. She didn't have far to go, as her comfortable flat was in the basement. Karin had tired of Davinia as her maid and had set her up with a basement flat in Susan's building. Karin's final instruction had been, "I advise you not to have too many boyfriends round though, the device will be difficult to explain!"
Karin dropped in on her some evenings, sometimes she required to be entertained for a full evening, sometimes just for a quick inspection.
CHAPTER: Chapter Two
Karin was also at her desk late, files from her banking division, from security, and from personnel were open before her. She was reading of the life and career so far of 28-year-old Donal Simpson. Donal was a clerk at a small branch of her bank. Management had suspended him due to some minor discrepancies in one of the accounts he handled. Security had established the link between his own account and those discrepancies. Struggling under an overdraft that was difficult to service, Donal had been very stupid.
Personnel files showed him to be unmarried, shy, quiet, and living alone. Security concluded that since the amounts involved were so minor, it was hardly worth prosecuting; however, he should be dismissed as the burden of a drink problem and a more recently discovered tendency for gambling was unlikely to mean any future reliability. Personnel suggested suspension, counseling, and help with the drink problem would probably put him back on the straight and narrow. Karin was developing her own conclusions. She closed the file and called the chauffeur. |
10,455 | Domination of Trent | "Trent," I ask softly, "would you like to cum?"
He moans and tosses his head to the side. "Please," he says, very quietly.
"You would like that?"
"Yes," he replies, so quietly I can barely hear him. His head lulls, helpless, to the side.
"You would like that," I repeat idly, as if contemplating it.
He is pinned, stretched, and exquisitely spread and ready for me. I stand back and stare hungrily at his spread legs and ass cheeks, prone oozing asshole, and tight nipples clipped with clothespins. His cock is clasped by the ring at the base and is turning purple.
He lies, silent, waiting. I pick up the cold metal crop. It swings down in a perfect silvery arc, and with the flick of my wrist, it bites into his left nipple. I am rewarded with a shocked gasp, but before he can catch his breath again, I flog the right one in precisely the same manner. His sensitive nipples attempt to harden but are curtailed by the pinch of the clothespins. Two more swats to them, and then I drape the cold metal over his cock and balls. He squirms and cries out. He looks like crawling, contracting flesh in his leather restraints. A man's legs, tight and sexy, spread in humiliation.
I creep around the back of the chair, keeping my heels from sounding on the parquet, and quickly grab a fistful of his hair. His upper lip curls back, emphasizing the sensuous dip in the middle. A sharp breath rattles in his throat.
"Trent," I say. "The more he twists his head back, the harder I pull. "You are going to tell me some things today."
"Uh - okay," he replies, taken aback. Not what he expected to hear.
I let go of his hair and remove the clips from his nipples, and watch as the pink returns to them. Knowing that they are hurting and tingling with the sensation of blood re-flooding them, I swat each of them hard three times in succession. He tenses and gives a tiny whimper. From the cart, I take a candle and light it, coughing softly to mask the sound, and from a small dish, I take an ice cube.
I put the ice on his poor red nipples. The blood which has just flooded in again wants to escape the chill, and his eyes close. I notice a drop of pre-cum on his thigh. I smile. I let go of the ice, and it rolls down the hollow past his sternum, slows in his navel and, as he squirms, rolls to the side.
I undo the leather restraints holding his feet and thighs. I undo the shackles on his hands, and he looks perplexed. This isn't the normal rhythm of a session. I, however, want him on his back. I switch the hooks so that his hands are crossed, then I tell him to turn over and stand bend at the waist. I adjust the dentist's chair so that he is leaning over a waist-length padded surface, his knees bent, and his ass in the air. I re-tie him at the knees, so he has no choice but to have his ass sticking out.
And he has a cute little ass. It is as white as the rest of him, and is tiny and tight, like the ass of a young boy. I want to fuck it, and I wonder with a grin who else has been there. His cheeks spread naturally, rendering the wire spreading apparatus obsolete. I throw it to the side of the chair and then select a longer, rougher crop.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine! I whip his ass nine times, hard, in quick succession. He holds silent until the last two strokes when a cry is jarred out of him. With my hand, I stroke the tender reddening flesh. I can see the leather holding his balls, and his blood-engorged cock hanging heavily down, as red as the stripe on his ass.
I gently touch my lips to the hollow in his back, above his buttocks. Though I have just reddened his hide, this makes him squirm and moan more than anything yet today. I kiss there twice more, up a small trail in that hollow and then, just as abruptly, I smack his ass in a downward stroke, first the left, then the right, again, and again, and again. He is shaking visibly. My lips and my whip are on him simultaneously, and to him the distinction between pleasure and pain blurs into one, two images superimposed, adding and building into one exquisite shivering sensation. More lashes to the ass. I let myself lose a little control, and with nails like claws, I rake his sweet flesh and leave parallel pink marks dark down his back, from neck to ass. I retrace these paths, this time with fingertips so delicately it is barely a touch. He shudders, and I see more lube ooze from his ass.
Swiftly, I swing the crop, underhanded, so that it softly smacks his pendulous balls, then curves around to lash the base of his cock. I do this three times more.
"Trent, have you ever been fucked up the ass?"
"No."
"Have you been fingered there?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about it."
He clears his throat and slowly speaks. "My ex-girlfriend did it once, very briefly... and someone else did it once..." He stops.
"It was a man," I state, not asking.
"Yes."
I smack the crop down hard on his ass.
"I told you to tell me, Trent."
"Okay..." he seems to be struggling to assemble his thoughts. "It was my friend Butch."
Butch Vig? My mind reels. He was cute!
"...he used to suck my cock on occasion."
"Was he good?"
"God yes."
"And what happened the first time he put his finger in your ass?"
"It was good. I was a little self-conscious... but then he... sort of curled his finger, and it felt so good."
"What else was he doing?"
"Sucking... he was sucking hard, down to the base, building up this suction. And he reached around... and spread my cheeks... and put his finger there, no lubrication. He wiggled it up there anyway," Trent is now breathing jaggedly. "and... I don't know what he did to this day." He was squirming. "It felt so good. I came instantaneously and just came and came and came." The back of his neck is burning naked red. I smile.
"Do you think about it a lot?"
Silence. "Yeah."
"What are you doing when you think about it?"
Like a vulture, I almost feel a downward swoop. I'm dizzy.
"I think about it when I'm jerking off."
"How do you jerk off?"
Long pause. "With my hand. Lube. Whatever is around. I take a long time. I look at videos."
"And when you cum?"
"I let it squirt everywhere, usually. Clean up later."
I graze his ass with my hand. "That's very good, Trent, you have done well. Thank you."
I feel heat build up in the leather encasing my crotch, wet, heat barely contained, wanting to trickle out.
From the cart, I select a slender butt plug - approximately the size of his thumb. I cover it with lubrication and swiftly insert it. In. He shakes and shudders at the startling invasion, and then, the thin part is past his sphincter, and its vinyl base remains between his spread cheeks. I remove the pressure, and it stays in place.
"What does that feel like?" I ask.
Part 4 will be up soon. |
10,624 | Hypno Celeb 35: Natasha Henstridge | "Hello, I'm here for a tanning session," Natasha Henstridge said to the dark-haired woman behind the counter.
"Certainly, my name is Cassie, let me show you to the booths." Cassie stood up and led the statuesque actress down a hallway and into a room. It was bare, save for a couple of lamps and a large tanning bed. "Just strip, and I'll get this ready for you," Cassie said.
The hardest part of all this for Cassie was resisting the urge to watch as her clients disrobed. It was especially difficult for someone like Natasha. Her short blond hair was slicked close to her head, displaying her strong, yet beautiful face. Her full breasts showed she could use a little tanning, as well as her clit, with the dark blond patch in between two long and silky legs. Cassie fired up the tanning bed and handed Natasha a pair of dark goggles. "Regulations," she said. "Just relax. I'll check in on you in a while. My advice is just to catch a quick nap. The machine will do the rest."
"Thanks," Natasha said, placing the glasses on. It gave a dark-greenish tint to the entire room as she lay on her back on the bed. Cassie lowered the top half onto her, then walked out of the room. She entered a control room just outside the office, where she could see Natasha's room on a security camera. She began to adjust some controls, setting the conditions just right. It was tricky fixing things so they affected Natasha's body chemistry, but she thought she had it. She hit a button and then left.
In the booth, Natasha sighed as she felt the heat from the lights touch her body. This would be nice, a lot less dangerous than lying on a Los Angeles beach, that was for sure. She gazed up at the ceiling, the tinted goggles giving her a different view of it. Music began to play in the speakers, a nice New Age sound. Probably meant to help the clients relax as they waited. Natasha sighed as she felt the heat envelop her and closed her eyes. She was going to be starting a publicity tour for the "Species" sequel and she wanted to look her best. Afterwards, she might take a break before going to her next project. She felt so tired, as if the heat was drugging her. Her mind began to cloud, and she decided to take Cassie's advice. Her mind slowly drifted away as she went to sleep.
Even if Natasha had been awake, it was doubtful she could have heard the subminimal messages inside the music. They told her to sleep, to relax while instilling in her a deep need to obey Cassie's voice and her commands. At the same time, they told her that Cassie aroused her and that Natasha needed Cassie's touch to please her. Meanwhile, the bed used specialized degrees of heat in just the right places to arouse Natasha, help deepen the trance state and make her compliant to Cassie's instructions.
A half-hour later, Cassie stepped into the room and approached the sleeping Natasha. She opened up the bed and admired the smooth naked body beneath her. "Natasha, roll over," Cassie said. Without waking, Natasha rolled onto her stomach, her breasts pressed flat on the bed, her ass inviting. Cassie would have loved to play with Natasha right then, but Mimi would soon be in for her appointment. She moved over to a console on the side of the room and set a timer. She then walked over and closed the bed on Natasha, then leaned down and whispered into her ear.
"Natasha, there will be a bell ringing. It will ring three times. The first time it rings, you will roll onto your back. The second time, you will roll onto your front. You will stay asleep both of these times. Now, when the bell rings the third time, you will wake up, refreshed and feeling wonderful. You will redress and I'll meet you at the counter. Now, Natasha, listen very carefully to the instructions I am about to give you..."
Natasha lounged outside the pool at her hotel, taking in the setting sun. The tanning had really helped, not just physically but also to take her mind off things. She wore a black bikini that showed off her body well. She looked up as Cassie came towards her, wearing a robe, probably with a suit underneath. "Hey," she said. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"I come for swims," Cassie explained. "The owner and I are old friends." In fact, the owner was one of Cassie's first clients. "So, anything big for you tonight?"
"No, probably just dinner and back to my room."
"Really." Cassie locked her eyes on Natasha's and stared. Natasha was caught instantly, Cassie's post-hypnotic command taking hold. "You feel so sleepy, Natasha," Cassie said in a low voice. "So very sleepy. Look deeper into my eyes and you feel so sleepy. Deeper and deeper, more asleep."
"...N..No--I..." Natasha's face was confused, trying to fight, even though it was useless.
"Yes, Natasha, so sleepy, so very, very sleepy. All you want to do right now is go to sleep, don't you? Sleep Natasha, deep, deep sleep. You can't keep your eyes open. Sleep."
Natasha's eyes fluttered closed, and she slumped in her chair. Cassie grinned. She'd always wanted to do that. Actually, she had deepened the trance she had already put Natasha in and was now ready for some fun. "Natasha, you are asleep. You have no will but mine to command you. Do you understand?"
"Yes..." The hypnotized Natasha replied.
"Natasha, open your eyes, but remain fast asleep. Now, take me to your room." Natasha led Cassie into the hotel and onto the elevator, her face a blank. They walked to her room, Cassie taking the key from Natasha's limp hand and opening the door. She led Natasha straight towards the bed. She stood Natasha up at the foot of the bed and lay down. Cassie undid her robe and opened it. She was nude underneath, her young body shown, her pussy already wet. "Natasha, you want to make love to me, don't you?"
"...Yes..."
"Good. Take off your suit." Natasha undid the top, letting her breasts fall. She slid the bottom down her long legs and swayed nude before Cassie. "Come here to me, Natasha," Cassie commanded. Natasha obeyed, lying atop the masseuse. Cassie brought her down and kissed her hard, wrapping her tongue around Natasha's. The two women lay together, their breasts pressed together as they kissed. They rolled in bed, continuing to feel one another. Cassie lay kisses on Natasha's breasts and nipples, then pulled herself up so Natasha could do the same. The entranced woman buried her head in between Cassie's breasts, licking at the space between them.
Cassie pushed Natasha down on the bed and swung herself around so they were in a 69 position. She pushed apart Natasha's thighs to show her pussy. Cassie buried her head into the blond patch and began to lick at it, pushing her tongue deep in Natasha. It wasn't long before Natasha got the hint and began to lick at the dark patch above her. As her tongue jabbed in and out of Cassie's twat, her hands squeezed her smooth buttocks. Natasha alternated between her tongue and her fingers, sliding both in and out of Cassie's pussy with wonderful skill. This pushed Cassie on, and she shoved her face deeper in between Natasha's legs until she finally felt the sweet taste of juices on her tongue. Cassie trembled as she let herself go, her cum splashing onto Natasha's face.
As she crawled off Natasha, Cassie smiled as she thought of the whole evening of pleasure awaiting her. Maybe she'd even give Natasha a free massage. |
10,867 | "Fill Her Up" | "Fill Her Up"
1. Introduction
Carrie was a submissive. The 21-year-old had been living with Anthony, her Master, for six months. She was content with her lifestyle as a submissive, as Anthony had a lot of money and saw to it that Carrie was well taken care of. Her main objectives in life were to obey and never complain. As long as Carrie abided by those rules, Anthony was happy.
Carrie sat in the rec room of the house, its door closed, awaiting the inevitable. She could hear several male voices outside the door, in the nearby living room. Anthony had invited four business associates to his house to close a big deal. They were also his friends, and Anthony promised them that they could all gang-bang Carrie if the business deal was reached and signed.
This was nothing new to the submissive. Carrie had been the featured attraction in gang-bangs before, as her Master really enjoyed watching her have sex with other men. Carrie liked being gang-banged because she loved being the center of attention. Just the mere thought of having sex with multiple men at the same time made her very excited. She became an inferno when these situations took place for real.
Carrie was told by her Master to stay in the rec room and not leave it, under any circumstances. Anthony was in the adjacent living room, finalizing the deal with his business associates. He told all the guys that once an agreement was signed, they could have their shot at his submissive.
Carrie was an extremely beautiful woman. Her hair was natural blonde and went slightly down below her shoulders in little ringlets. Carrie had a lovely face and smile, and a gorgeous body. She stood 5-foot-8 and weighed 120 pounds, and possessed very shapely curves and an athletic figure.
In the rec room, she sat in a large swivel chair, wearing a sexy, slinky dress and looking as good as ever. The dress was low-cut and displayed a lot of cleavage, plus it was black and made of fine silk. To top the outfit off, Carrie wore dark, thigh-high stockings and black high-heeled shoes. She had been told to dress this way by her Master. In fact, he had chosen the outfit himself.
The young woman was lost in a daydream, but was jolted back to reality when the door to the rec room opened. Four men followed Anthony inside, and they all looked at Carrie with lustful eyes. "It's showtime," she said to herself.
2. Fill Her Up - More Introductions
Carrie stood up, hands at her sides like a good slave, and looked at Anthony. He glanced around at the four men and then focused his attention on the submissive.
"Carrie, a contract has been signed, thus ensuring the construction work downtown will belong to my company. As an added bonus, as you already know, I offered you to these four men - kind of like a 'thank you'. Are you up to it?"
"Yes, Master," she replied, in an obedient voice.
"Good," the 34-year-old Italian returned. "First, I will introduce you to these men. This right here is Brian," Anthony said, pointing to the youngest man (age 27) of the group. Brian had light brown hair and a good build. "Next to him is Shawn, one of my best friends." Shawn had blond hair, along with a handsome face but just an average body. "Over there, we have Derek." Derek was the oldest of the group at age 38, but Carrie considered him the best looking. He had a nice face and big, strong muscles. "Last but not least, there is Mark." Mark was short in height and had a stocky build. He had dark hair and appeared to be the most eager to get his hands on Carrie. "Say hello to them."
"Hello," the submissive said to the group, tentatively.
"Guys," Anthony said, "this is Carrie. She is my slave and I am her Master. We have a light D&S relationship, one which is lenient and not too harsh. But when I tell her to do something, she is expected to obey me. Carrie has her orders, so I think it's time that the gang-bang start."
3. Fill Her Up - The Gang-Bang
"I want her first!" Mark exclaimed, full of lust.
"We went over the rules and order earlier," Anthony told Mark. "You already know that for the first go-around, each of you will take turns on Carrie, by alphabetical order. So that means that Brian will get first crack at her. The rest of you can sit down and watch."
While the others took a seat, Brian smiled and stepped forward, his anticipation building at the thought of fucking this hot blonde. "What do you like, baby?" he asked her.
Carrie smiled and shook her head. "Whatever you like."
Brian took the goddess into his arms and kissed her with great passion and lust. Carrie wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed hard, trying to mold her perfect figure into his hard muscles. Brian kissed her feverishly, using his tongue, and then reached down and lifted the hem of her black dress. He reached underneath the dress and pinched her ass several times, making her coo and squeal.
Carrie reached down herself and squeezed Brian's cock through the slacks he wore. In response, the man moved both hands up near the back of Carrie's neck, and then unzipped her dress. Brian slipped the dress from her shoulders, and then down and off. All of the men looked on in delight at Carrie, who was now clad in only black silk panties, a matching garter belt and stockings, plus a pair of heels. She had not worn a bra, and her large, plump breasts bounced and jiggled as she moved toward Brian for another kiss.
The blonde gave him a hand-job again through his slacks as their kiss resumed. Brian cupped her ass and pulled her tight against him, and kissed her even harder than before. Almost out of breath, he finally broke the kiss and said, "Why don't you give me a blowjob?"
Carrie smiled and dropped to her knees in an obedient manner. She unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, then whipped his erect cock out from his boxers and licked her lips at the tasty sight. Carrie opened her mouth and then slowly closed it, half of his prick inside it.
Brian could not believe the sensations she was giving him. He remembered that Anthony told the group earlier that Carrie was like a well-oiled machine - a sex machine which would always please and never quit. That was the way her mouth felt around his cock. No one had ever sucked him off so good before. No one!
Carrie was using her 'vacuum technique' and was really getting into the idea of blowing this big, beautiful cock, but was disappointed when she felt it shoot off in her mouth. She loved the salty taste, but did not like his lack of stamina. The blonde wanted to suck his prick longer.
As a submissive, Carrie was not allowed to voice any sort of disapproval or anger, so she kept quiet and wiped her mouth with her hand and fingers as Brian pulled away, then licked them dry while waiting for the next guy.
"Derek, it's your turn," Anthony said to him.
Carrie looked at the other two men. Mark had his slacks off and was already masturbating at the sight of her. Shawn was still fully clothed, but there was a huge tent in his trousers. The blonde licked her lips at the sight, unhooking her garter belt and sliding it off in the process.
Derek got up and immediately went over to Carrie, nude himself, and joined her on the floor. "My my my, what a lovely young woman you are," he told her in a deep tone.
"Thank you," she smiled, blushing.
"What do you want next? I'll do anything you want."
"I don't care," Carrie told him. "I'm a submissive. I'm your fuck doll tonight. Do with me as you please."
Derek smiled and laughed. "Man! I wish all the women in my life had that same type of attitude!"
The blonde shrugged her shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Maybe you just haven't met the right type of women yet."
"Maaaaaybe!" the man smiled, excited, as he pushed Carrie onto her back. "I've always been a person who loves eating pussy. I've been wondering what you taste like ever since Anthony showed me a picture of you a few days back."
"Find out," Carrie grinned, spreading her thighs for him.Derek smiled again as he slipped her black silk panties down her hips and thighs, and off. A thin patch of blonde curls barely hid what promised to be an exquisite pussy, the man thought to himself.
He grasped her upper thighs and held them wide apart while diving into her sweet muff with his mouth. Carrie arched her body high and grabbed her breasts in lust at the feel of his tongue on her clitoris and pussy. He really knew what he was doing, she thought inwardly.
Derek licked and slurped away at her pussy, enjoying its wetness and musky scent. He had Carrie in a sexual frenzy, as she panted and writhed around in lust beneath him on the floor. The spasms within her grew and became stronger at Derek's expert oral work, and soon she could not hold herself back any longer. The submissive screamed and wailed in pure lust as an orgasm ripped throughout her, her pussy simply overflowing with sweet love juice.
As Derek moved away, both Mark and Shawn stepped forward. They had just agreed to fuck Carrie together, at the same time. Both men were now nude, as were all the other guys in the rec room. They all looked on in anticipation as Mark and Shawn took a seat on either side of Carrie.
Shawn turned her lovely face toward his and kissed her in sheer lust, his hands and fingers busy tweaking her breasts and nipples. Mark, meanwhile, rubbed her soaked pussy with his hand and kissed her shoulder and neck. Carrie moaned at all the wonderful attention she was receiving from the men, wishing it would never end.
Shawn broke the kiss for a quick breather, and then the submissive looked over at Mark. She found his lips and kissed him, while still moaning and now squirming in pure delight and pleasure.
"I want her ass," Shawn said, in nothing but lust. She broke the kiss with Mark and looked over at Shawn with a big smile. "Yeah, I'm gonna fuck your ass."
"And I want your pussy," Mark said. "Anthony told us that you really like being double-fucked."
She grinned and nodded her head. "Yes, I do."
In a matter of seconds, all three of them were in the necessary position. Mark was flat on his back upon the floor, and Carrie was seated upon his huge cock, leaning forward so her breasts were touching his chest. Shawn, meanwhile, had moved behind Carrie and then forged his prick into her tight anus, after lubricating it with gel.
The two men caught a rhythm, and had Carrie in a blaze of fire and lust in no time flat. Double penetration was her favorite part of every gang-bang.
Shawn gripped her ass hard with his hands and thrusted himself deep into her anus while Mark shot his hips upward in a continual manner, filling her hungry pussy. Carrie screamed and cried between the two men, panting and gasping for oxygen in the process.
"Taking a third man has never been a problem for you," Anthony said to Carrie, dropping to his knees before her. "I want you to suck my cock."
Carrie moaned as her eyes rolled back in her head for an instant before she opened her mouth wide for Anthony. He scooted forward and thrusted his prick into her awaiting mouth, and then she closed her lips around it and started sucking away, like there was no tomorrow.
Derek and Brian decided to get up from the sofa as well, and take a closer look at the action. Carrie was fucking three guys, all at the same time. Both Derek and Brian wished she had a few more orifices for them.
The submissive groaned and screamed, her mouth full of Anthony's fat cock, as Shawn and Mark pounded her down below with their own pricks. She was rocking back and forth in a quick, almost violent manner, much like a pinball in an arcade machine.
Shawn was the first to explode. He gave one final, hard thrust into her ass and buried himself there, then shot his creamy load into her, filling and flooding her bowels. As Shawn pulled out of her, Derek looked on in amazement, watching cum just seep and drip out of Carrie's anus.
Mark was next. He screamed aloud himself, then grabbed Carrie's hips and forced himself up into her, as far as he could possibly go. Carrie moaned in delight as his cock erupted in her, though her mouth was still full with her Master's shaft. Once Mark rolled out from underneath her, Carrie then got a full mouth-fucking from Anthony.
Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of her mouth, very hard and roughly, much like it was her pussy or ass instead. Carrie gagged and would occasionally choke, but welcomed his strong actions and desires.
Anthony pulled out of her mouth and then blew his wad all over her face and hair. Carrie gasped for breath but smiled in delight as cum was now splattered upon her face and hair, dripping down onto the carpeted floor below.
Derek and Brian wanted a piece of what Mark and Shawn already had.
"I'll take her ass," Derek told his friend, "and you can have her pussy."
"I get her ass next time," Brian said.
Carrie had been thoroughly and completely fucked, but much like Derek and Brian, still wanted more.
She crawled over to Brian, who was now laying on the floor, and straddled his cock. Sweaty and still gasping for breath, Carrie lowered herself and then squealed as his hard prick slid up into her pussy. Derek got behind her on his knees, and punched his shaft into her puckered anus.
All three rocked together as she received another helping of double penetration. Sometimes, Carrie wished that her Master would bring home more men for these gang-bangs - like 10, or even more than that. The submissive didn't know if she could handle that many guys, but sure would like to try.
Neither man was worried about rhythm this time around. They were each out for their own pleasure. Derek simply pounded her ass, while Brian nearly went insane, forging and thrusting his cock deep up into her sweet pussy.
Carrie was the first to experience an orgasm this time. The blonde screamed and roared in absolute passion, almost letting the entire neighborhood know that she was having an orgasm. The loud display triggered both Derek and Brian to experience orgasms of their own, at the same time. They each stuffed their cocks into her, and let the juices flow. Both moaned and growled in lust, and Carrie gasped, still trying to catch her breath.
Once the two men finally let go of her, and walked back to the sofa, Carrie was given a short time to rest. She lay on the floor, limp and tired, and used heavy breaths, her brown eyes closed. This was very exhausting work!
The blonde then opened her eyes and saw a foot next to her on the floor. It belonged to one of the men, who was standing over her, wanting to fuck her again. It was going to be a very long and satisfying night, she told herself.
For the rest of the evening, it was more of the same for Carrie and the five guys. They all took turns filling her up, from every angle and position, and in every hole. Each of them got to perform at least four sexual acts with her. Carrie was fucked beyond belief, but still wanted more.
Once the group party was over, and the four men went home, Anthony took his submissive to their bedroom and made mad, passionate love to her. He could never get enough of her, although he had her several times during the gang-bang. Anthony felt extremely lucky to have a slave whose sexual drive and desire didn't have any end to it. She was much like him that way, which he definitely enjoyed.
Carrie absolutely loved the whole night. The slut simply couldn't wait for her next gang-bang. Hopefully, she told herself, it would happen very soon. If not, well, she still had Anthony to satisfy and submit to. That sure wasn't a bad alternative for her. |
10,879 | Dogged | "Kevin!"
My eyes opened reluctantly. I tried to read the red glow of my clock. Someone banged on the door, downstairs.
"You bastard!" It sounded as if the woman was hitting the door with a crowbar. I found my glasses and winced as I realized what time it was. "Fucking asshole," she screamed. I pulled on a pair of shorts and went to the window.
"Kevin!" she screamed in a long wail that betrayed both fury and pain. "Kevin!" I pushed the window open.
"Hey," I called down. "Kevin's not here."
"I'll fucking kill him," she shouted. I didn't recognize Debbie at first. She had always been really quiet, when she came by the house with Kevin. It's funny how different people can sound when they're drunk and mad. When she stepped away from the door to shoot her anger at my window, there was no mistaking the bright flame of her hair and her soft pretty face. I've said it before; Kevin gets girls he doesn't deserve. Nevertheless, I was a little glad when I recognized the raving lunatic as Debbie.
"Hey, Debbie," I said, emphasizing my weariness. "Come back on Monday. You can get in line to kill him then."
"I fucking will! The fucker left me waiting all fucking night." Then Debbie screamed and stumbled on the step down from the porch. A light came on at the house across the street.
"Great," I said to myself. Miss Blanche would have had the police here in about three minutes, once she realized it was our house causing the trouble. "Debbie," I called down in a hushed voice. "I'll be down in a second. Just keep cool."
"Kevin," she moaned out loudly. I stubbed my toe on the leg of my desk as I tried to get to the front door.
"Fuck," I muttered, hopping down the stairs as I rubbed my injured foot. I could deal with Debbie. I didn't want cops dropping by at two thirty in the morning. I unlocked the door and Debbie fell in, collapsing onto the linoleum.
"Oh, Brian," she said as I helped her stand up. "I'm sorry about this. He's really not here?"
"He flew out this morning. Business, I think."
"Liar," she said sharply, her gaze suddenly fierce.
"I . . . ," I started, shrinking back from the accusation.
"No," said Debbie, sounding sorry again. She walked into the living room and sat down on the tweed sofa with a sigh. Her black skirt rode high as she slid lower, exposing a generous view of her white satin panties. I coughed and went into the kitchen to start some coffee. "Kevin's my problem," she said. "I won't make you rat on your brother."
"Hell, he's been my problem longer than he's been yours. I gave up protecting him a long time ago. He told me it was business, but he'd lie to me just as quick as he'd lie to you. He's a real dog."
"I know he's with that bitch, Sherry." Something told me she was right, but it didn't matter. If Kevin wasn't with Sherry, it only meant he was dogging some other girl. Picking one of his women for jealous rage would seriously miss the point. As far as I could tell, Kevin didn't care about any of them. All he wanted to do was shoot and score. The smell of brewing coffee made me nauseous.
"You want some coffee?" I asked.
"How about some wine?" Debbie replied sleepily. I turned off the coffee maker and pulled a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. All our glasses were dirty, so I poured two coffee mugs of the purple wine.
"You can sleep here," I said, handing her the mug. "I'm not going to let you drive if you drink that." Debbie smiled.
"Brian," she said seductively, holding the cup up to knock mine. "You dog."
"Runs in the family, I guess."
"One of you is adopted," Debbie said. "Or you took the good genes and left Kevin the bad ones."
"Kevin's just like Dad," I said.
"Figures," Debbie said. "My father..."
'The thing I don't get is, you're a bright girl, beautiful too."
"Brian," she purred. I took a drink of wine to steel my nerves.
"You know Kevin's a dog. He's lied to you a million times..."
"Really?" asked Debbie. Her tone was angry, but her body seemed to have something else in mind. I could clearly see the puff of an aroused pussy creasing her immodest panties. Hints of stiff nipples appeared in the cotton blouse she wore.
"Why do you put up with his shit?" I asked abruptly.
"He's so sweet when he talks. Even when I know he's lying, I want to believe him and so I just do. Then, when he goes too far and I decide to ignore him or hit him or whatever I do, he turns up the charm and it's like a lullaby, and the madness goes away and then he fucks the rage out of me. He's like a drug. I know it's killing me, but, goddammit, give me another hit."
As Debbie spoke, she rubbed her pussy gently. All I was wearing was a pair of nylon shorts and my prick quickly threatened to pop into view. I tried to adjust myself as I sat on the easy chair, but with every brush of my fingers, my cock leapt higher. Linda, the closest thing I had to a girlfriend at that point, had been out of town for two months. I was hurting to get laid and Debbie was sticking needles in my wound.
"Forget him," I said after clearing my throat. "You deserve better than my little brother is ever going to give you."
"Yeah," Debbie said, her voice low. Her right hand still fiddled with the fabric between her thighs. "What about you?" she asked.
"I'd just use you and make you miserable. It runs in the family. I'm twice the dog he is."
"I don't believe you," Debbie said in a whisper. Her eyes were closed. I sat quietly, nursing my mug of wine, daring myself to stand up. Sexual hunger was making my heart pound like the timpani in a bad orchestra. Debbie's fingers stopped their small circles, and rested quietly on the crest of her barely shrouded secrets. I stared, imagining, unable to help myself.
"Can I get you a blanket?" I finally asked. Debbie didn't answer. I thought about getting up, but instead I fell asleep.
I don't know how long I slept, but it was still dark when I awoke. Debbie was sucking on my dick. I lifted my hips to push myself deeper into her warm throat and then I opened my eyes. Her tongue tickled my stiffness as she slipped rhythmically from bottom to top and back again. Waves of pleasure poured over me. I wove my fingers through her thick mane, letting my hands follow the bob of her head, up and down.
"Debbie?" I suddenly asked, realizing by pieces what was happening.
"Mmmm," she moaned, still playing my flute.
"Wicked girl," I chastised her lovingly. She tickled my balls and then pushed my cock deep. "Are you sure?" Debbie halted the wet suckle.
"Don't you want me?" she asked, coyly. She sank my sensitive prick back into her moist mouth.
"Yeah," I said slowly. "I just..." All at once, Debbie stopped. She stepped back into the soft beam of moonlight streaming through the front window. I tried to catch my breath while I resisted the urge to leap up and take her. Debbie peeled off her tight blouse. Her tits bounced as she let her shirt fall. My cock throbbed with a carnivore's hunger at the sight of her big liquid breasts. "Wow," I said. Debbie smiled and unzipped her skirt. The black cloth hit the floor in a puddle.
"You're just going to fuck me," she said. "That's all I want from you." I nodded my head, mesmerized by the shadowy vision of her naked body. "Please," she said. "I just want you to fuck me."
"Okay," I said, at a complete loss for words. Debbie came over and took hold of my hard-on.
"Promise?" she asked.
"Yes," I said as she guided me into the hot pit of her cunt.
"Good," she said, thrusting hard against my pelvis, driving me deep inside. "I was so angry," Debbie said, her titties bouncing steadily. "I have to fuck." I squeezed her full round ass. "Your dickhead brother taught me this." She bit her lip and pinched a nipple hard.
"So beautiful," I said, trying to hold my excitement while I watched her ride me.
"Call me your fuck bitch," she said.
"Fuck bitch," I said softly.
"I'm your fuck bitch," she said, anger raging in her voice. My cock shot straight into her.
"Fuck bitch!" I screamed. Debbie shuddered wildly at my thrust, as though an electric shock had taken hold of her cunt and she flailed in the ripping current. I went mad. I came hard but wouldn't stop fucking, driving hard to keep my cock fueled. Debbie whimpered, collapsed in tremors of ecstasy, but I turned her over and started pounding her hard from behind.I slapped her white bottom as I fucked her, called her my slut and my hot fucking cunt. Debbie screamed in rages of passion until I wondered if the cops wouldn't be showing up soon. Finally, I pulled my hammer free and spent a thick load in her mouth. My memories of the scene are vague, but that's what I remember, anyway.
When I woke up again, the sun shone brightly. Debbie still lay wrapped around me. I kissed her cheek and pulled myself free. She hardly stirred. I pulled on my shorts and started a new pot of coffee.
"Oh, God," she groaned as I set the table for breakfast.
"Good morning, Debbie," I said. "Want some coffee?"
"Oh, wow," she said as she looked for her clothes. "Yeah, I guess so."
"I was getting ready to make omelets, but I have grapefruit or bagels or cereal, if you prefer."
"You're so sweet," she said, pulling on her panties. "I can't believe you."
"And you're beautiful," I said, bringing her a mug of steaming coffee.
"No," Debbie said with a blush, pushing her straggled mane of hair away from her face. "You don't have to do this," she said, sitting at the table. She took a sip. "I mean, I didn't mean to...."
"Look. I know we didn't plan this, but I've had a crush on you for a long while, Debbie," I confessed. "After last night, I'm going to do my best to keep you. If you don't mind my trying."
"Brian," she said sweetly. I blushed and sat next to her. Her bright green eyes opened wide as she looked at me, and then she leaned forward to kiss me. A sultry smile spoke volumes of encouragement, and my heart skipped a beat. I tickled her thigh absentmindedly. "But what about Kevin?" she asked.
"I'm kicking him out. He's behind in his rent anyway. Besides, there are always girls trying to bust down the door and kill him. I don't need anymore of that. He can go live with Mom. She's used to that shit."
"But you said you only wanted to use me," said Debbie with a smirk.
"I lied," I said. "I can't help it. Runs in the family. And I have to warn you; I'll probably lie again."
"You dog," she said, rubbing the crease in her panties. "God help me, but I do love it when you lie to me."
"Well, I'll never be faithful," I said as I took her in my arms. "And there is no way I'm ever going to love you."
"Now don't make me mad," she said, pulling me closer. "You bad, bad dog." |
11,424 | YinBin by ERW | "Get your ass over here, shithead! I've had a hard day, so don't piss me off!"
With those words, my wife burst into the bedroom. As usual, I was standing in the corner waiting for her to come home. I was naked and hairless from the neck down. A chastity belt caged my puny dick and also held my buttplug in place.
My wife threw her briefcase at me as I cowered in the corner. I knew I was in for a tough time. Running over to her, I knelt at her feet as she sat on the bed. Taking off her heels, I massaged and kissed her feet through her silky stockings. Relishing her sweet sweat, I put her soles up to my nose and inhaled her scent. I then worked my hands up her thighs and gently pulled on her pantyhose. "You rip those hose, and I'll rip your head," my wife bellowed. Working ever so slowly, I managed to slip her hose down her thighs and off her tender feet. Laying down on the carpet, I placed my mouth against each toe and sucked in her sweet digits. Using my tongue, I cleansed between them, licking up the harsh filth and sweat of the day.
As I lay face down, I heard another set of feet approach. Turning my head, I saw the toes of my daughter standing next to me. "Eyes straight ahead, worm," I heard my daughter shout. As I went back to sucking toes, I felt the sharp sting of a belt on my behind. Three times the belt came down with a loud "smack" on my ass. My daughter was very accomplished at striking the skin for maximum pain.
"How was school today, dear? Did you pass your Algebra test?" My wife and daughter started conversing like I wasn't even there. I was happy Cindy showed up. Now, maybe my wife would be put in a better mood. That feeling was short-lived as Cindy started yelling at her mother. It was the same old argument I've heard a thousand times before. "I hate this place! Why can't we move to where there's people? I'm getting sick of seeing the same faces every day! We have the money. Why can't we move to New York or maybe even Paris!" Cindy was right on that account. My wife was loaded. Her first husband was very wealthy and left her with a sizable fortune. She didn't need to work, but really loved the power that being the president of an International company gave her. "When you're eighteen, I'll let you live wherever you want! For now, you'll do as I say! Most girls would be thrilled to have the luxuries you have. Now, go do your homework!" With those words, Cindy stormed out of the room. I felt sorry for my son, knowing his angry sister was on her way.
My wife stood up, and I knelt before her, with head bowed. She ordered me to undress her. I lovingly removed her dress, slip, bra, and panties. Laying down on the bed, she motioned me between her legs. Taking up the position, I worked my mouth over her shaved pussy. Parting her wonderful lips, I lightly licked her moist insides. As my tongue explored deeper, I heard a loud scream coming from the Hall. My wife laughed, "I guess Cindy is taking out her frustrations on poor Paul. I wonder what delightful torture she's putting him through. I'm so happy I married a man with a teenage son. Now, suck me harder!"
As I sucked and lapped at my wife's pussy, I could hear Paul's screams. My wife was getting very hot listening to the sounds of torment as I sucked her dry. Lucy loves to gag me during her tortures, but Cindy prefers to hear her victims' agony. Since I heard no belt or whip, I could only imagine what torment he was going through. His screams were punctuated by pleas for mercy as his throat became hoarse. Writhing in ecstasy, my wife Lucy started to convulse. Drawing in her engorged clit, I felt the orgasm ripple through her cunt. Wave after wave of contractions pulsed juice into my eager mouth. I was happy she came and happier that Paul's torment spared me a similar fate.
"Get dressed in your clothes, worm, and go to the playroom. I'm going downstairs for something to eat." Obediently, I got off the bed and started to dress. My wife put on a long robe and strolled out the door. Poor Paul's cries could no longer be heard. My clothes consisted of lacy panties and a bra. These were followed by sheer, feminine stockings and a blond wig. The pills my wife has been giving me, and Paul, have greatly expanded our breasts and made them very tender to touch. I had become adept at putting on makeup and looking the part of a cheap whore. High heels and a short skirt rounded out my outfit.
Walking to the playroom, I passed Cindy's room. Peering in, I tried to see Paul. Balancing on my heels, I put my head through the crack in the door. As I inched closer, a sharp blow stung my leg. I lost balance and toppled to the floor. Lucy's other daughter, Claire, was standing over me. Although only 12, she was a formidable sight. "Why is the daddy slut looking in Cindy's room? Answer me!" With those words, she kicked me hard in the stomach. "I was looking for your brother Paul," I managed to stammer out. "I wanted to see if he was OK." She continued to kick me playfully, taking delight in watching me flinch at her blows. "My slut brother is in the playroom. Jay carried him in. I think him and Jay are having fun. I think you should join them, dear daddy. I think Jay wants to play with you too." Claire gave me one last kick and skipped off down the hall. I slowly got up and made my way to the playroom.
Walking slowly to the playroom, I couldn't get the picture of Jay out of my mind. He was a tall, heavily built Negro with a gigantic cock. My wife found him a few months ago working on the loading dock. According to his personnel records, he had six kids all out of wedlock. My wife paid off all his debts and took him in as a breeder. Lucy and Cindy are both on the pill, but they take delight in getting the other female servants pregnant. Right now, two of the maids are pregnant by Jay. A third, Linda, is 8 months pregnant by Lucy's old breeder, John. I feel sorry for Linda. Lucy still makes her do all the wood floors, naked on her hands and knees. Her milk-laden breasts and big belly sag down to the ground as Lucy stands over her and laughs. Occasionally, she would whip her, just to see her belly and breasts swing back and forth over the soapy wood. Where John was a kind breeder, Jay is sadistic and cruel. He takes great delight in forcing his monster dick up into the womb. The screams of his victims only seem to make him thrust harder.
Opening the playroom door, I saw Paul sitting on the couch next to Jay. Paul's chastity belt was off, and he was rubbing ligament on his swollen balls. His tender nipples also showed signs of fresh piercings. "Come on in, sissy," Jay beckoned. "We've been waiting for you! Here's your key. Take it off and let's have some fun." Jay threw me the key to my belt. I pulled down my skirt, hose, and panties, then unlocked it. "Take off your pretty clothes too. You won't be needing them for a while." Completely naked, I stood before him. "You call that a dick," he laughed. "I've seen bigger dicks on my boys still covered in birth blood! Hell, my parrot has a bigger dick than that! You're even smaller than your sissy son." It was true. I was over an inch smaller than Paul. "Your wife will be here pretty soon for a good black fuckin'. I need your help to get me hard for her. She doesn't know it, but I've fucked that sweet pregnant ass of Linda's two times today. I love to squeeze her big, swollen, white belly as I ram my dark meat into her. You two better not tell Miss Lucy what I did. She's been talkin' about cutting off your worthless dicks, and I'd be more than happy to convince her. Now, I want you both in a 69 while I stroke. You better make it good!"
Paul limped down on the floor, and I laid next to him. His poor sack was like a balloon, ready to burst. It was very red and had fresh needle marks. For a while, Cindy had been threatening to inject his balls with some chemicals. It looks like she finally did it. I gently took his flaccid dick in my mouth, being careful not to rub against his sack. I could feel his sweet tongue on my dick as it rubbed past his teeth. Paul had become an expert at sucking cock. In no time, my dick was rock hard and pushing against the back of his throat. Paul, however, was not getting hard. The pain in his scrotum must be too great for him to feel pleasure. My tongue played with his piss hole, and I sucked him deep into me. My finger worked its way up his ass, and I probed his prostate. His hand found my buttplug and gently slid it out.With my ass gaping open, he slid his hand up inside me. I could see Jay getting excited. His massive cock grew steadily. His mushroom crown now stood proudly atop the thick pole. He stopped stroking and just sat there watching us. The feel of Paul's fingers in my bowels made me delirious. My hips started humping against his mouth at a frantic pace. My fingers pushed deeper into his ass as my gums crushed his dick. With his rod fully inside me, I pressed my lips to his balls and sucked on his tormented globe. I was about to cum when I heard the door slam. Looking up, I saw a naked Claire standing over us. "Looks like I came just in time," she said haughtily. "Mom will be here soon, but first I want some fun. I've never seen a black dick cum before. Now I want to see one squirt." Claire walked over to Jay and grabbed the massive cock with her two small hands. They barely fit around it as she spit on the head and rubbed it with her palms. Jay tried to stop her hands, but she slapped them back down. "You're going to cum for me, baby maker. You're going to cum, or else I'll tell my mom what you were doing with Linda. I saw you jamming your big dick up her ass and cunt. I saw your baby cream dripping out of her holes as she scrubbed the floors. You'll cum for me, or else you'll never cum again!" Claire then put her small mouth to the bulbous head. Her tongue darted out and teased his pee hole. The pink tip then entered the hole as Claire stroked the shaft. Jay started to moan. He didn't want to cum, but the feel of Claire's young tongue was too much for him. Squeezing the head past her lips, the bulb was sucked in. Her spit managed to ooze down the sides and offered a good lube for her tender hands. As Paul and I watched, her fingers went to Jay's chest. The long fingernails drilled into his nipples, and Jay started to buck. Releasing her mouth, she stood up and rubbed her bare pussy along the shaft. Teasing the head with her opening. Jay's thrusts became frantic. Claire couldn't control the rampaging dick as it tried to push up her cunt. Grasping the slick rod, she hunched down and slid the shaft between her oversized breasts. She too had been on hormones and wore a "D" cup. The fucking of this young girl's melons was too much for Jay. With a deep sigh, his dick erupted on the pre-teen girl. Wads of creamy cum splattered on her chest and neck. Claire then stood up and proceeded to rub the goo into her skin. Playing with her erect nipples, she moaned and knelt down to Paul. Even with his sore balls, the sight of this had gotten Paul hard. Noticing his erection, Claire took his dick and led him out of the room by it. She had been secretly screwing Paul for months. I'm sure the two of them would have a good time. Paul needed release after his earlier torture. Jay's cock was now hanging down between his legs. Even fully deflated, it was still much bigger than my erect one. Jay ordered me to suck on it, but we both knew it was no use. Try as I might, the head would not harden. While I was feeding the shaft into my throat, Lucy came in. Kicking me aside, she stared at the flaccid penis. "I thought you'd have him hard by now! What's going on here?" Seeing me and Jay cower away made her furious. "You stupid little dick," she screamed at me. "You made him cum, didn't you! You knew he was going to fuck me, and you made him cum! You worthless piece of shit!" Terror took hold of me as her nude body descended to my level. Taking my chin in her hand, she stared into my eyes. "You're going to make him hard again, or else that piece of skin you call a dick is going to be on my dinner plate. I'll make you cut it up and eat it, small piece by small piece. I'll then throw your balls to my dog, and your sack will hold my jewels instead of yours." Dropping my face, she stood up and went to her instrument table. Taking her dildo pants, she removed the dildo and shoved it up my ass. On top of this, she pushed in my buttplug. She then ordered me back into the chastity belt. My ass was so sore and full I could hardly walk. She then ordered Jay into the dildo pants. The spandex fit snugly, and his dick hung out through the hole in front. She told Jay to get on all fours. Grabbing me by the hair, she pulled and pushed my head through one of the leg openings until my mouth was planted squarely on his big brown hole. The material cut into my neck, and I found it hard to breathe. The fabric pushed his giant sack up against my chin. "Don't you dare move your tongue away from his ass, or you'll be a REAL dickless husband," she warned. I closed my eyes and began to tongue the smelly hole. My wife must have gotten under Jay. I could feel him move down, and I imagined his big tongue licking my wife's cunt. I could hear Lucy moan. In a soft voice, she spoke to the black giant. "Your tongue feels so good. What a real man you are. Lick me deeper. Kiss my clit. I'm spreading so wide for you. Make me wet for your giant cock. I want to feel your head push into my womb. Fill me with your cum. Make it flow out in buckets." After a time, Jay again changed position. My head was becoming numb from the tight restriction and lack of air. I pressed my tongue far up his hole, hoping to get it over with ASAP. I wiggled it around inside and tasted his bitter goo. I felt him going lower, and I imagined my wife guiding his monster cock into her pussy. Lower and lower he went, gliding his shaft into her. My wife spoke to me. "Can you hear me, husband? Is your tongue far up his ass? Can you taste him? I'm holding his black head against my breast. He's sucking my tender nipple, the same nipple you are not allowed to touch. His cock is getting hard in my pussy. I can feel it growing inside me like a baby. It's getting fatter and longer, pressing against my flesh. His black sheath is touching places you can never feel. He's so big, my clit is rubbing against the veins. Soon, potent black sperm will fill my womb. Then I'll make you lap it as it flows from me." My wife's words were mesmerizing. Jay started to buck like crazy. Like a rag doll, my head bounced against his ass. Taking quick breaths, I began to suck on his brown hole. My tongue was nearing exhaustion. I grabbed tightly onto his legs as he plowed into her. Lucy was now panting. I could hear every breath of hers and Jay's as they neared climax. With a loud shriek, my wife came. The contractions on Jay's dick signaled his final thrust. With a manly "grunt," Jay's sperm shot into my wife. A few seconds later, he dismounted her and lay on his side. My mouth was still planted at his ass. The dildo pants had not given an inch. We lay like that for a few minutes until I heard my wife. "I guess he must like your ass, Jay. He looks like a real worm under that spandex. I guess we should let him out so he can clean us up." Jay finally spoke, "I think you'd better hurry, Miss Lucy. With all that tonguing I got, I've got to go real bad." My wife began to laugh. "Well, I suggest you go then. I'm sure my dear hubby wouldn't mind being my lover's toilet. Would you, dear? Let's go to the tub; I don't want to get the carpet stained." Jay stood up and popped my head out of the pants. While gasping for breath, they pulled me to the bathroom and dropped me in the tub. It was a large tile bath in the shape of a foot. Jay bent down over me as Lucy sat on the tub wall. Soon, a thick brown turd pushed through the puckered hole. As it grew, Lucy instructed Jay to move so it was positioned over my mouth. "Open wide, worm, here comes your dinner!" I watched the long log as it descended onto me. Missing my mouth, it caught the corner of my cheek. "Get down lower, Jay, into his mouth next time." The big man squatted down lower. His shit-covered ass was inches from my face. I saw more shit ooze out. This batch landed square in my mouth. The taste was foul, but I dared not gag. I chewed the soft chunks as more and more brown goo covered my face. Finally, Jay was done. To my shame and horror, the bowel movement I was suppressing could no longer be held in. The double shafts up my ass worked their magic. As I strained to push, Lucy and Jay both giggled like schoolgirls. Soon, my soft shift had pushed past the intruders and ran out between my cheeks. I started to cry. My dear wife turned on the shower. She and Jay started to soap each other up over my shit-covered form. Their bodies intertwined, and they kissed passionately. My head lay between their feet. I could see cum dribble down my wife's pussy, mixed with the soapy water. Jay's conquering penis pointed straight down like a giant spear. Kicking the chastity belt, my wife looked at me. "I guess we'll have to replace this with a diaper from now on." They both laughed and kissed again, tightening their passionate embrace. My tears mixed with the warm water as I closed my eyes. |
11,288 | Al's Birthday Surprise | "Too bad you have to work late on your birthday, Al," his wife Sue said.
"But I've got a nice surprise for you when you get home," she added, suggestively.
Al just harrumphed into his cereal at the kitchen table. It'd be a surprise, Sue darling, he pondered. I can tell you've secretly invited our friends over, and won't it be a surprise when I mention the affair you and Ed are having.
"Yeah, too bad," he looked back slyly.
As Al drove to work that day, it still burned in his brain the painful memory of seeing Sue in bed with his best friend Ed. He had come home early and thought Sue had gone out, but when he headed for his bedroom, he heard his wife moaning. He peeked into the room, and his jaw dropped when he saw Ed humping away on top of his Sue. How long ago had it been since Ed changed his work schedule and started taking Tuesdays off? Three months?
The work day was long and agonizing. Al could only think about this evening. The look on Sue and Ed's faces would be so wonderful! And in front of all our friends!
He drove home with renewed excitement and vigor. This was it! He was a little surprised to not see any cars around his house, but he figured they just parked around the corner to keep the surprise element. His house was dark as he drove up. Ready to jump out, are you Sue?
He unlocked his front door and walked in and paused. Nothing. He turned on the light. No one. Where were they? Not in the kitchen. Nor the patio. Ah, the bedroom. How fitting! Hi, thank you everybody for being here. Did you know this is the very room that Ed fucks my wife every Tuesday?
He opened the door slowly.
"Al," he heard Sue say sexily. "I've been waiting for you."
Al opened the door fully. In the darkness, his wife laid out on the bed in a flimsy white negligee. His favorite. No one else was in the room.
"Go stand in front of the closet," she said coyly. "I have a surprise."
Disappointed that his plan had gone awry, he walked over to the closet. He saw his wife's hand come up holding a black pistol.
BANG! The bullet hit him square in the chest, and he slumped back against the closet and slid to the floor, dead.
"Al, I want a divorce," Sue said laughingly.
Ed came out from under the bed and kissed Sue firmly on the lips. |
11,352 | First time | "This is total hell," I thought to myself. "I am never talking to that girl again." The stupid wretch tricked me into coming to this party, probably with the encouragement of our fickle host. That boy has problems, ditching me for some skinny little whore. Anyway, I am going to smile and be nice, yes I am. He is trying to get back into my good graces, and by buying me my favorite beer, he's well on his way. So I am going to smile. After all, he's not the only one here, not that I would give any of these guys the time of day, I do enjoy their conversation. I am going to smile. I sit on the couch and listen to the din around me. Our host quiets everyone down and suggests that we play truth or dare, no limits. (Give me a break, we're all high school virgins). So we all agree and brainstorm to write down suggestive dares to draw from a hat when appropriate, because we are all anal retentive about that kind of thing. So I am sitting there, nursing my beer, and my name is called out by the guy next to me. I'd been having some fantasies about this guy lately. He played football and was kinda big, not cute, but he was a great musician and was good at almost everything. That really fascinated me. So instead of protesting like I normally do when expected to do something I don't normally do, out of curiosity, I led my friend into a room and turned on the light. He shut the door and handed me the paper to read for myself. "Choose the most endowed girl here and suck on her nipples" was what it read. Hmm, who could have written that? It was expressly for me, I was undoubtedly the most endowed one there. Hmm.. Well, I have a rather dominating personality and I couldn't see my partner really starting this on his own, so I turned out the lights and put my arms around his neck. He took my arms roughly and forced them back at my sides. Oh, I thought, this could get really good. So I stood still as his hands passed over my breasts, squeezing gently. Finally, he stripped my shirt off, took me to the bed, and made me lie down. He started to kiss me, my lips, neck, ears, then he took my bra off and started playing with my nipples. This was incredible. I started thrashing around, trying to get him on top of me, seeking a rougher connection. He took the hint and unzipped my jeans, pulling them down, he found my clit and started massaging it. Oh goodness, the boy knew what he was doing. I was right. He knows how to do everything. He made me climax four times right after the next. It was exhausting. I pled for mercy and laid my head on his chest. A few minutes later, I started kissing him hard, sensually, passionately. He felt so good on top of me, I probably would have gone farther, if the door hadn't swung open and the light switched on. It was our host. "My turn," he said authoritatively. I was naked, but my lover tried his best to cover me up until I grabbed my shirt, "You have a girlfriend," I said, "whatever that says I'm sure she can fulfill it." My friend smiled, kissed me and departed, despite my objections. The host watched him go, then grabbed my shirt back, "no one told you to get dressed." I was aroused, he had always been bossy, but this was a totally different attitude with me. I folded my arms across my chest and glared, "what do I have to do?" I asked. He turned off the light, approached me and started to kiss me. I just stood there. He grabbed my arms, forced them behind me and pushed me on the bed. I was shocked, but I couldn't move. His lips covered mine so I couldn't yell either. His fingers found my clit, which was swollen and sore and started playing with it. He was just a little boy and had no idea what to do, so it was quite painful, and I started to cry. He kissed away my tears, but continued until I came to him. Twice more, and I was crying harder. He let my arms go and started kissing me like a lover. I had missed him so much, I returned his caresses. My swollen parts wanted to feel him. I grinded my hips against his. I felt his erection through his jeans. He knew that consummating would be a mistake, so we mocked the movements, rocking, bucking. I came for the seventh time that night. And we parted as we were. I went back in to the general room and sat down next to my first lover to await my next escapade. |
11,365 | Male Slave | "I am here to serve you, my lady."
I kneel before you, gazing first at your stern but gentle face, then your full breasts peeking out from behind the two halves of the black gown you wear, then down further to that most private place between your thighs.
I feel the riding crop you hold touch the base of my chin, lifting up my head so that I look at you again.
"Get on your hands and knees."
"Yes, my lady."
I do as you bid, and you run the tip of the riding crop down my back, sliding through the crack of my ass, then gently cradle my balls with it. You give a sharp, but not painful slap across my buttocks with the crop. I bite my lower lip.
"If you do not obey, it will be harder, do you understand?"
"Of course, my lady."
"All right. Lie on your back."
I lie down on the warm carpet, feel its softness against my back. You remove your gown, straddle me with your legs. I look up at you, sensing the powerfulness of your presence, the control I have given to you over my actions. You move forward, then crouch down so that your cunt is only inches from my face.
"Lick me," you order.
I lift my head, put out my tongue and begin to run it slowly back and forth along your labia. You smell sweet, you taste delicious, of raspberry wine. You sigh as you feel my tongue sliding around the folds, finding hidden crevices, thrusting up into the deepness of your cunt, then curling around the tiny bud of your clitoris.
"Use your hands, too."
I lift my hand, slide two fingers up into the depths of your sex, feeling the slipperiness, the wetness, and as my tongue laves your clitoris, I begin to thrust my fingers in and out. We continue like that for several long moments as you enjoy the warm sensations spreading through your body.
I glance up for a moment, see your breasts hanging above my eyes. I reach up with my other hand, begin to squeeze first one, then the other, rubbing and pinching the nipples between my finger and thumb, feeling them harden.
"Enough there," you say sharply, rising, turning around and straddling me in the opposite direction. You lower your buttocks to me again, squatting above me, the beauty and deliciousness of your nether regions open to my gaze and touch. "Continue."
I lick again at your cunt, tasting its nectar-like wetness, then flick my tongue up and encircle the rosebud of your ass, twisting my tongue and stabbing it into the tiny hole. You moan, and I feel you grasp my cock with your hand and begin to stroke its length. It loves the feel of your tightening fingers and it begins to harden, its length increasing, its shaft pulsing with desire.
"Enough."
You let go of me, and rise to your feet, standing away from me.
"Get on your hands and knees again."
I do so, seeing you from the corner of my eye strap something around your waist. Then you straddle my legs behind me. I feel your finger smearing my ass with a cool liquid.
"Do you like that, slave?"
"Yes, my lady." And I do, it feels sensuous.
Then I feel your finger penetrating my bumhole slowly, widening it.
"Do you like that, slave?"
I moan at the tingling sensations of your finger thrusting in and out and I gasp out, "Yes, my lady."
Your finger leaves me. Then I feel something larger push against my hole, feel the pressure as you slowly insert the dildo strapped around your waist. The slipperiness of the lubrication makes its entry easier and I feel the strong pressure as its wideness enters my rectum. I groan and feel my cock getting harder.
Then, as you begin to pump the rubber cock in and out of my ass, you reach beneath me and grasp my thick member, your fingers encircling the shaft, your hand beginning to pump in an alternate rhythm to that which is shoving into my bum.
I groan with the build-up of my inner sensations.
"Don't cum until I tell you, slave."
"Uhhn--" I can only gasp out. "I'm almost there already."
"I want your cum, slave. No one, nothing else can have it. It's mine, do you understand?" This while you thump into my ass and yank on my cock.
"Yes, my lady." I feel the suddenly rush deep within my bowels.
"My lady---I'm beginning to cum!!" I cry out.
I feel the dildo suddenly pop out of my ass, feel the aching left behind and the sensation of its presence still there. You release my cock, push me over onto my back and the cumming sensation subsides for just a moment. For you grab my throbbing shaft anew, cover its tip with your mouth and rub the hard column vigorously. At the same time, you slide a finger into my ass and begin to thrust in and out.
Now the sensations within me are too much. I cry out aloud, feel the gushing from the depths of my bowels, then my hips buck up into the air, thrusting my cock deep into your mouth as my hot jism spouts into your throat. You pull off me, strings of my cum dangling from your lips to my cock and I continue spurting onto your face and neck and breasts as you finish pumping my cock in steady, firm movements.
I moan softly as you release my sex and slip your finger from my ass.
I glance at you, my white sperm splattered across your body.
"Did I please you, my lady?"
"Yes," you say with a smile. "Very much so."
"What else may I do to pleasure you, my lady?" I inquire. |
12,738 | The Fete | "You be new around 'ere then?" The speaker leaned over the fence, the straw in his mouth waggling as he talked.
"Yes, we're Americans from the Airbase. I'm Jim, and this is my wife Judy."
"Arrh!"
"Er, and you are?"
"I be Silas, I be. Silas Merryweather." The speaker brought a hand from his pocket as if to shake on the introduction, but he merely pulled the straw from his mouth and pointed with it towards the picturesque thatched cottage about 100 yards further down the lane.
"You be renting Mrs. Foster's old place then?" he said.
"Yes, that's right." For the first time in his life, Jim felt like he wasn't in control. His day job was a transport pilot, flying the feisty old Charlie 130s. Okay, so it wasn't exactly Top Gun, but hell, he'd made full bird Colonel at 29. Some feat when his job lacked the glamour of the fighter jocks. Doing that stint on special ops had helped, of course. 'It's because you deserve it,' his wife had observed, smiling.
Judy was always smiling. Short, vivacious, curved in all the right places, blonde, bubbly, slim and sexy. Clever too! That was Judy, everything a man could ever want all in one exciting little package. Her smile slipped a half notch as she waited for the man to reply.
After an age, he said, "Arrh."
That seemed to be the end of the conversation. So the couple bid their farewells.
"Talkative sort!" observed Jim, dryly.
Judy giggled. When she wasn't smiling, she was giggling. It made Jim want to gather her up and eat her alive. God, she was gorgeous.
Jim had been stationed at RAF Alconheath (a Limey airbase, supposedly, but in reality as American as Apple Pie. Maybe they thought it would fool the locals?) for only two weeks, and as an officer, he was entitled to rented local accommodation. He'd settled for a quaint old English thatched cottage. A house with a straw roof and walls made out of cowdung and sticks. Built back when the Mayflower was a twinkle in her architect's eye.
Of course, Judy loved it, even though he kept banging his head on the beams.
They were determined to settle into the life of English country folk, so later that evening they found themselves in the local pub, the Lost Maiden.
As usual, Silas Merryweather propped up the bar in the snug. Normally taciturn, he had become quite loquacious when he'd described the new couple earlier.
"I think she be about right. You see."
So the welcome they received was a curious blend of warm friendliness and intense curiosity.
"Will you be coming to the Fete then?" Someone asked.
Jim looked at his wife. She nodded eagerly.
"Yeah, sure. That'd be great. Hey, what are you guys all drinking then?"
The legendary Yank generosity.
As usual, Silas was first in the queue.
"What'll it be, Silas?"
Silas indicated the pump with the stem of his pipe.
"Bitter?"
"Arrrh."
"You don't want be drinking that rubbish," opined the ruddy-faced young man in the too-tight suit. "Try some of this." He held up a beaker of a murky brown liquid.
Jim looked at it dubiously, then tried a sip. Surprisingly, it tasted great.
"Here, honey, try some of this. Hey, can I have another one for my wife?"
"Aarh, that you can."
They stood sipping the brew, listening to the sounds of a normal little village fete. Jim really thought they'd arrived. He was especially pleased when everyone greeted them like old friends.
The brew was starting to go to his head a little, and so he looked for somewhere to sit down. He asked a group of burly farmworkers if he could sit with them, and they cheerfully obliged, sliding their beefy backsides up the bench until there was room for both him and Judy.
He turned towards her, but found she was gone. Momentarily taken aback, he glanced anxiously around the room. He spotted her sitting with a group of women around her age. She smiled and waved. He relaxed.
The afternoon was an amazing success in Jim's mind. The local hooch was really getting to him now, and he knew he was slurring badly. But his new friends, who all seemed impervious to its deadly effects, treated everything he said like it was the most amazing thing they'd ever heard. He loved telling them about the boring taxi driver job he did every day. He threw in a bit of derring-do to spice it up a bit, embroidering his tales with every re-telling.
He looked around to find Judy, but she and the women had gone. Now the beer tent consisted of just men.
In his inebriated state, Jim didn't notice that one by one the men slipped out. Or that the returning men looked thoughtful before joining the miasma of bonhomie that surrounded Jim like a cloud.
Later that night, they steered Jim gently towards another tent out towards the edge of the field. It took him a while to fight with the canvas and to get inside. It was dark, and his new friends helped him slip out of his clothes and onto the mattress that lay there. Suddenly, he felt incredibly randy when he felt a warmth moving next to where he lay. He reached across and touched a breast. She responded with a quiet moan. He'd know that moan anywhere; it was Judy. To his befuddled mind, he was at home in bed, getting ready to pleasure his wife.
Strangely, he thought he imagined someone exclaiming "Arrrh." when he pushed himself deep inside her.
They came to the next morning, groggily trying to understand where they were.
Slowly, they remembered.
"You were insatiable last night, lover," she said. "I'm incredibly sore."
"Me too. Wonder what the hell it is they make that stuff out of. I'd like to ship a load stateside; we'd make a fortune."
"How'd we get here anyway?"
"I dunno, honey. Maybe the locals thought we'd had too much, so they put us to bed."The reception they got from the villagers was a little cooler than it had been the day before. Jim put it down to the fact that he'd gotten himself plastered. They were still friendly enough, though, as they made their way, slowly, home.
The harvest was a record that year, and the couple were invited to a harvest supper in which they were the guests of honor.
Jim was telling one of his buddies about it the next day.
"Hey, you live in Upper Pidley, don't you?"
"Sure, why?" replied Jim.
"They've got a curious legend about that place."
"What's that, then?"
"The way I heard it, they had to have some sort of ritual before they gather the harvest in. All to do with some witch they burned about a thousand years ago. She cast a spell on the village, and ever since then, they had to sacrifice a maiden, or their harvest would die in the fields. Over the years, this kind of got corrupted, and by the middle of last century, it was down to the whole of the village having to lay some girl or other, that being the equivalent of a sacrifice, I guess. This girl couldn't be any girl either; she must be a girl who hadn't lain with any man from the village before. Must have made virgins a rarity around there, huh? Anyway, the last I heard, it all sort of died away. Though, knowing some of the locals, I wouldn't be surprised if something like it still didn't go on. That'd be fun, huh? By the way, how was the fete?" |
Subsets and Splits