For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary & Dhi )
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Dhi on 03-03-2013, 19:41:11</h2>
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				Title: <strong>For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>03-03-2013, 19:41:11</strong>
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				The engine of a 1949 Dodge Roadster puttered under the evening light of the drive-in. It was a robin's egg blue and with the top down, what would be a woman's car if women were encouraged to drive. But the woman behind the wheel of this one, almost in an opiate trance as the pretty car hops skated around in thier poodle skirts, she was a rare kind of bird.<br><br>Raven hair swept across her head, sculpted in the way of so many women emulating the starlets of the emerging television medium. But it was swept just a little too daringly, and piled just a little too stylishly, almost in parody of the good wives who toddled about Woolworth's on a Saturday afternoon. Olivia was not interested in a sterile department store, and she was not in the market for a toaster oven. This was the apex of it, the teenage culture. This was where they came together to distinguish themselves from both the children and the adults, to mix and mingle and dance awkwardly around their own raging hormones. Olivia must have been the oldest person there, but it was hard to say- she hard one of those faces. One of those ageless faces.<br><br>It was the way she dressed that surprised the car hop who glided up to the Roadster. Black gloves so delicately on the wheel, a snappy white dress jacket with a tiny waist and flared hips, a long black skirt that went clear down under the chrome dash, past the knee. This was a confidant woman, a well-dressed woman, no matter the creamy youth of her skin, the absence of creases or character in her soft smile. <em>"One Dr Pepper?" </em>the bright young thing asked<br>"That's me," Olivia answered, her tone ever so kind and gentle, unwholesomely sweet. A whole thin dime changed hands, and the pretty hop lingered just a moment with a Betty Boop bottle opener. That robin's egg blue Roadster was much too fine a car to be notched opening a bottle. "Thank you, doll."<br><br>In the wing mirror she was admiring the tense backside that kept the hop balanced and aloft on her skates. The female form in motion had a beauty that Olivia admired. And when it was taut, resisting the urge to move, shivering imperceptibly like the surface of a pond, that was the greatest beauty. It must have been a hot and fertile tempest of desires, the bottom she glimpsed in the mirror, and if Olivia lived forever she might never again find a tush that her fingers so ached to squeeze. But that was the point of it all: living forever. Staying young forever. Not getting caught meant not fondling innocent youths at the drive-in. There would be a time and a person to sink her digits into, and this was neither.<br><br>Eve, that was the next girl's name. Olivia tried to picture her as she made the drive down Main Street with a cool and curvy glass bottle fizzing between her thighs. Would she be distraught? Would she be a blushing and puritanical bride? She was a college student, that much Olivia knew. Even the good girls who majored in interior design got a taste of free thought on the college toke. Would she be proud, and need to be broken? With each human spirit Olivia broke, she felt less a human being, more a consort of the devil. It was senseless to speculate. No matter who Eve was, it would be Olivia's role to court her. It was less a blind date, and more an arranged marriage that only Olivia was privy to. She needed Eve. And she would have her, even if the chloroform in the glove box had to come into play.<br><br>The Roadster pulled in behind a brick coffee house with venetian blinds over the windows. Olivia waited for the tinny vocals of Peggy Lee's <em>I'm Beginning To See The Light </em>to die off on the AM radio, and teased her Dr Pepper up through a straw a little squirt at a time. It had a familiar, comforting rhythm, both the song and the pressurized splash of fluid across her palate, but it paled in comparison to the real thing. She would need to feed soon.<br><br>It was a low key, smoky place she stepped into finally, when the song was done and the bottle was drained. There was a claustrophobic atmosphere where the lights hung within reach of poets in turtlenecks and the ponytailed girls who adored them. It was another of these teenage scenes, and another where Olivia didn't quite belong. The flash of a blonde halo drew her sultry eyes, and she followed it through the milling vagabonds, a little deeper inside, a slow smile developing. "Excuse me," she called after. The girl was shorter by almost half a foot, so more the delicious- Olivia did like them petite, feminine, mouldable. "My, but you're pretty as a picture. I like to take my coffee with company, and it's only that you seem a little bit lost." If Eve was with someone else, if there was a boy's arm around her, it didn't matter. The boys of this era, though they appeared to be the men their fathers were, Olivia found them only echoes, easily bullied. They were much of them still reeling from the second World War. "You don't mind if I sit, do you darling?" A movie starlet wink, and she was doing just that- recovering a pack of Lucky Strikes from her jacket pocket, and offering one to Eve as a courtesy. The click of the lighter's flame was for a brief instant the brightest thing in the whole drab joint.
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				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>04-03-2013, 12:30:17</strong>
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				Eve's small dormitory made hiding things almost impossible. It was part of the reason she felt so sheltered and that was why she found herself out much more than she was accustomed to. She attended an all girl's school and she was beginning to have doubts as to whether she belonged. It was early and in order to get a jump start on the day and not have to hear about who her roommate necked with the night before, Eve decided to take a nice, hot shower and then head out for the day. She could take along her school books and get some studying done at the very least.<br><br>She stepped into the bathroom carrying the dress and undergarments she'd already picked out for herself. The days of getting dressed in their actual room and prancing about in her bra and panties were long gone. Eve dreaded even getting undressed, not wanting to see what lurked beneath her panties. Sighing, she looked at her face in the full length mirror that was mounted to the back of the bathroom door. She undressed slowly, unclasping her bra to let it fall to the floor with the rest of the discarded garments. She tried vehemently to focus solely above the waist. She brought her hands up to cup her small breasts in her palms, closing her eyes and biting her lip. There was something inherently special about the female body; even her own. Unfortunately, there was a major hindrance ruining her very femininity. <br><br>After relishing in the sight of her female form, Eve got around to the unenviable task of slipping down her panties. Just the sight of those panties in the mirror gave away the change she'd experienced. Instead of a flat, fairly snug fit against her muff, she was greeted by a very prominent bulge. Hooking her thumbs into each side of the undies, she eased them down, her face distorted in a look of disgust as she caught a glimpse of the protuberance. "Uck," Eve said under her breath. Just beneath the tuft of coarse blonde pubic hair was a very large, very thick penis. She had to lift the darn thing to even catch sight of her womanhood. How it happened, she had no idea. <br><br><br><br><br><br>Eve got dressed after drying off. She wore a set of white panties and a white bra, covered by a flowery dress cinched at the waist. Cinching it there brought the attention to her midsection and breasts and away from what lurked beneath. She finished the ensemble with a pair of flats and checked herself in the mirror once more. She did her hair, admiring the femininity of her face, happy that along with her new cock she didn't have to deal with new found facial hair or anything else so repulsive.<br><br>Thinking about the current predicament had fully reinforced the fact that she was, in deed, a lesbian. She dated a few guys during high school, but none had her attention. It was basically just enough to keep her parents from questioning why she showed no interest in boys. The truth was, she went to school fawning over a particular girl, Bernadette. She was gorgeous and on more than one occasion Eve found herself with her thighs pressed together tightly, resisting the urge to touch herself. <br><br>Without a car, Eve depended on public transportation like a fair amount of students did. Her roommate had a car, but Eve hadn't driven a car in almost a year and she didn't feel confident enough borrowing it for fear that she'd get into a fender bender. The day was a bit cooler than she anticipated and she could feel goosebumps travel up her arms. Shivering off the cold, she finally boarded the bus to ride down to the place she frequented since attending college. <br><br>The place was full of all sorts of intellectuals, from snobby boys from universities who thought they were better than everyone, to eccentrics who only wished to pass on their poetry to anyone who would listen. Eve liked finding a corner of the place to herself, preferring to take a seat at a corner table with her books. She ordered a coffee from the small counter and was in the process of walking over to one of the tables to study, coffee in one hand, books tucked under the other when she heard a sultry voice call out from behind her.<br><br>Turning around quickly, Eve caught a glimpse of who spoke to her. She was accustomed to seeing mainly regulars, so the sight of the woman through her off a bit. Golly, was she tall. She seemed to dwarf Eve. And she looked absolutely stunning. It was as if she was a Hollywood starlet, heading off for a cup of coffee in between scenes or something. She wanted to inquire as to why someone like her was in such a place, but instead, she blushed at the woman's compliment. <br><br>As her cheeks started to cool off a bit, Eve found the courage to actually accept both the cigarette and the woman to her table. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she said in response to the cigarette, even though she wasn't much of a smoker. Her response could've easily been in regards to her offering of company. As much as Eve tried to stay out of the public eye because of her penis, she couldn't shelter herself from everyone. After all, she was finally getting attention from a woman. She needed to take advantage of it. Even the mere presence of such a pretty lady was sure to make her feel a little better. <br><br>Taking a seat at the table, Eve set her books down on the far end and placed her cup in front of her. She held the Lucky Strike between her middle and index fingers, taking in a deep breath. She was always the only one who didn't indulge in a cigarette once in a while, so it wouldn't hurt just this once. "I really only come here to study. I bet that's why I look lonely and out of sorts." She felt the need to find an excuse for the absence of a boy with her for some strange reason. Gosh, she sounded like such a fool. Wanting to hide from it, she lifted the cup of coffee to her lips, taking much to long of a sip until she could feel the liquid stinging at her tongue. She withdrew it and set it back down on the table, glancing over at the starlet once more.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>06-03-2013, 02:53:01</strong>
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				No stranger to the pleasure stick, Olivia drew in the warm luxury and let it fill her. She could have been a spokesmodel for Lucky Strikes, telling the viewer to relax and enjoy life's pleasures. And she was a hedonist, a woman free from the responsibility of wifely duties, untethered to the apron or to little Jimmy or Jane. There was no place in a post-war society for a selfish woman like this, a connoisseur of creature comforts. The dreamy way her eyes fell on shy Eve said that she was surveying a new comfort for her repertoire, or at least, that the young woman was genuinely interesting.<br><br>"It won't hurt you a bit," she promised, almost purring, with a silky voice made for radio. She was watching Eve's eyes- the way they dove but came inexorably back up for air, a little like a lovesick schoolgirl, tentative but intrigued. Olivia was learning about her through the silent exchange of glances and the little movements of her mouth. Everyone was a little bit different- only a very little bit different, in this cookie cutter decade of conformity, but what had worked for the last girl wouldn't necessarily steam Eve's cup of coffee. It was in these moments of first meeting that Olivia had to seal the deal. It was just lucky, then, that Eve seemed to be curious, seemed to want to broaden her horizons.<br><br>"That's a letdown. I hoped you would say you came here for a new experience." Her lips pursed to exhale, and to suggest a blown kiss. "Isn't that what the beat movement is all about? Making your own path in the world, defying convention?" She was taking a look at Eve's studies, a languorous tilt of her head to read the spines of those books. A beginning student, just far enough down the path of enlightenment to think for herself, perhaps, not so far that she was obligated to finish. "I took a look at you, darling, and I said <em>there's a cat who might be up for a little adventure." </em><br><br>With the books no longer a barrier defining Eve's personal space, Olivia slipped from the seat across to one a little closer, right next to Eve, so that the tobacco in the air mingled with her an intriguing, gender-ambivalent perfume of vanilla and sweet frankincense. It wasn't the best way to hold a conversation, shoulder to shoulder, but what she had to say was not for prying ears, and for the idea her gloved hands were entertaining, she would need to be very close indeed. "Maybe I've got this thing all wrong. It's only that it occurs to me, I didn't say you looked lonely. Those are the words out of <em>your </em>mouth."<br><br>She leaned over in the way of a gregarious bird, one member of the fairer sex being comfortable with another, but when her hand came down she was dimpling the crotch of Eve's floral dress under the lip of the table. Almost certainly, she was feeling <em>it, </em>but she didn't pull away. Maybe it was accidental. Maybe she couldn't feel much, through those supple black gloves, though the reverse was untrue- she could certainly paw, through the fabric of the gloves, through the lap of Eve's dress, through the insufficient cover of her panties. There was a slow and reassuring squeeze of her hand, to bring the blood from Eve's logical brain down to where it belonged, where it would do Olivia the most good. With her other hand she took a drag of tobacco, and urged Eve to do the same. "Take a drag. Relax."
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				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>06-03-2013, 03:48:51</strong>
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				Eve could have chose to respond to all of the woman's quips. She didn't even know her name, yet the two were seated together. She didn't like to consider herself a loner, but on most occasions, Eve would rather jump at the chance to be alone than be bothered by company. Luckily, Olivia was fascinating and beautiful. <br><br>Instead of butting in or responding to her words, Eve just let everything sink in. It was almost as if she was paralyzed, glued to her kitschy chair, the cigarette out of place between her fingers. She wasn't herself. Eve didn't accept company from strangers and she'd be damned if she'd start smoking just because she was offered one. What the hell was going on?<br><br>Eve was transfixed on every tiny nuance of this mystery woman. She gazed almost longingly at the sight of her pursed lips. She hung on every word that was uttered in that smoky, dreadfully sexy voice. The woman's hopes of Eve defying conventions were only that. Eve was about as dull as the curtains that ensconced the place.<br><br>Everything she spoke of, Eve couldn't help but agree with. She was too uptight. She did need a little adventure. All of it was true, albeit a bitter pill to swallow. Yes, she had a cock, but was that really reason to be so goddamn boring? Maybe her new friend was the ticket she needed out of the doldrums. Perhaps the mundane and unenviable task of burrowing her nose deep inside of shitty prose written a hundred years ago could be put on hold. She felt a new spark, but she wouldn't dare give it away.<br><br>Eve gulped at the sight of the woman leaving her seat to take the one beside her. She thought it was just a friendly gesture at first. She was just being nice and wanting to eliminate the distance. That's all it was. That's all it could be. The women she met were never lesbians. They were prudish snobs who lied about being with boys. She'd heard every story in the book about necking in the backseats of cars and boys fondling breasts. The notion turned her stomach. <br><br>Eve quickly realized her slip of the tongue in admitting her loneliness to a complete stranger. It was embarrassing and if she could have found a mound of sand to bury her head into, she surely would have done it. And then, it happened. Eve couldn't have been more shocked by any one action in her life. She had to glance down and make sure she had felt correctly. Yes, there it had been. The woman's hand had found its way down to her crotch, right where her new cock had emerged.<br><br>She was going to feel it. It didn't matter how much volume stood between her dress and the gloved hand atop it, a cock that big was going to be felt. Surprisingly, Eve resisted the urge to grab hold of the woman's wrist and escort her hand to its proper resting place. Instead, she eyed it intently and took in a sharp breath. A flush came to her cheeks once more, this time never leaving as the blood flow had stretched from her face down to her penis. And then a squeeze left Eve really reeling. Her flaccid length suddenly took on the hint of an erection, plumping and firming underneath the steady hand of the woman who had like a flash came into her life.<br><br>At her insistence, Eve lifted the cigarette that was still snug between her fingers to her lips, taking the longest drag she felt was humanly possible. Her exhale added to the smoky din of the place, her eyes managing to move from the woman's hand to her eyes. The want in her own would be blatantly obvious. She was turned on. It was the first time her penis hadn't made her feel painfully inadequate, although she still would've much preferred a well-placed finger against her clit. <br><br>"I, um. I don't even know your name," she remarked, ashing her cigarette, staring blankly down at it, feeling awkward, but at the same time alight with new possibilities. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>06-03-2013, 22:30:40</strong>
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				If she were just a ship passing in the night, an anonymous handjob and a slap on the bottom, she never would have given Eve her name. It was still a little early, yet, to reveal anything incriminating- becoming immortal meant having to disappear, and even a name, whispered to the wrong ear, could bring the whole system chasing after her. "Olivia," she whispered, a moist click of her tongue that betrayed how her mouth was watering. But it wouldn't be going into her mouth- at least, not the organ itself.<br><br>As she kneaded, firmly enough to steady Eve's anxious hips against the seat of her chair, she was reeling up that floral print a bit at a time, working to expose her new friend under the table. Olivia's silky legs crossed to provide a little concealment, and to give Eve a visual aid in the form of a hosiery-tinted calf slipping from under the dark fabric of her dress, like an Arabian concubine performing the dance of the seven veils. At the same time that she was letting the warm smoky gust of the coffee house air up her crossed leg, she was letting it rush up Eve's thighs, uncovering the last of her from ankle to mound.<br><br>"What a good girl," she murmured, playing up the difference in age, assuring Eve that she was still a woman, even as her fingers freed the erection from the restraining triangle of her panties and vividly reminded her of what lay tucked between her thighs. The velvety glove touched bare flesh and polished down the head, encouraging it to stand proudly from the young woman's lap and fill the empty space beneath the table. Her rolling thumb inspected its length and girth, and the riotous tension that filled it. It was difficult to say for certain, for a girl in her sexual prime, but it would seem the student had not yet relieved herself, today, possibly ever. Olivia had to admire that discipline. It was exactly what she wanted.<br><br>Her gloved fingers slipped all the way down the shaft, and let it rest against the scrunched fabric at Eve's tummy so that she could admire its sculpted form. Her low-diving fingertip toyed with the plushness of the college girl's clitoral hood as she thought about how to proceed. Her lusty gaze found the mostly empty cup of Eve's coffee, and considered it as a container for the salty seed she craved- but if both her hands went under the table, both pumping Eve and holding the cup, then suddenly people would begin to notice. And were she to give Eve release, that might be the end of it. The college girl might catch her breath and return to the wild, satiated for the moment, no longer interested in a fast woman from a bar. Alas, it was not in her best interest to give Eve what she wanted just yet.<br><br>The cigarette clung to the purse of Olivia's painted lips so she could retrieve a little thing from her pocket, a loop of metal that jingled like a keyring with a single key. It was cool as it rest on the inflamed head of Eve's cock like a queen's crown. And then she began to push it down, simulating for Eve the tightness of penetration, working the ring over the flared head and down the sensitive shaft, polished, unyielding metal that forced Eve's shaft to cinch on the way down. There was an added part to it, something that dangled and jingled at Olivia's fingertips. When she forced the ring all the way down to the base, there was an extra tightness that trapped all the blood and sensitivity in the poor girl's organ, and the click of a lock. It was the tiny heart-shaped padlock of a girl's diary, and only Olivia had the key.<br><br>Now she did not have to worry. Now her hand stroked up and down the organ, unafraid of accidental eruption and lost seed. With no more slack in the skin of Eve's cock, she'd left it uninsulated and vulnerable to the soft little twirls and tweaks of her playful fingers. "This town is nowheresville," she sighed, a velvet fingertip sawing briefly along Eve's dilated opening. "They'll never understand you here, Eve." Her blood was so hot, her desire so slippery wet that she'd forgotten Eve had not volunteered her name, and that she really oughtn't know it. "But there's a little place out on a country lane, a cozy little slice of pie where like-minded dames can get together and just...do what comes naturally. Doesn't that sound nice?"<br><br>From honey sweet to demanding her soft voice went with the very next words, "Give me your panties."
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				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>07-03-2013, 21:40:27</strong>
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				Eve had never liked being in control. If anything, she had been so reserved that she was like dough in her parents hands. They had essentially molded her into the prodigal daughter. She brought home nothing but A's in school, her 'boyfriends' were all intellectual goody-good boys who were so good at buttering up her mom and dad that she was sure they had a manual telling them what to say. Letting her parents dictate every facet of her life had been acceptable when she was in high school, but she went away to college to branch out. She wanted to embrace her sexuality and find a woman to share it with. The last thing she expected was to find someone like Olivia.<br><br>Olivia was unlike any woman she'd ever met before. She knew exactly what she wanted and she set out to take it. There was a definite air of confidence about her, one Eve wanted desperately to have but she often came off as an outcast or someone so shy she wasn't worth striking up a conversation with. Could Olivia possibly know she had a penis before she touched her? Something didn't seem quite right. Eve didn't know why she hadn't pulled the woman's hand away. She was opposed to any and all public displays of affection. Even seeing a couple kiss hello or goodbye put her off. And here she was having her new appendage stimulated in the middle of a room full of people. <br><br>Eve glanced down at Olivia's legs as she crossed them. She wanted badly to reach out and touch her flesh. There was nothing quite like the sight of the female form and the woman before her didn't disappoint in the least. She bit her plump bottom lip, doing everything in her power not to moan out. As much as she wanted to detest what was happening, it actually felt good. It felt really good. She'd never seen the nasty cock as a source of pleasure, but the more she was being stimulated by Olivia, the more she was willing to free her mind from how deplorable what was going on was. <br><br>Eve wanted to say something in protest when she felt her dress being lifted, but instead, she let it happen. There was something almost hypnotizing about Olivia and her actions. She couldn't tell her no. She was afraid of the consequences. Hearing the woman call her a good girl invigorated her. There was something inherently sexy about being seen in that light. Maybe it was just that it was the first attention she had ever gotten from a woman and it was involving her cock, something she thought no one would ever in their right mind want. <br><br>Eve was a little surprised by the sight of her own cock. Sure, it looked large sitting flaccid, but in the state Olivia had made it, it looked monstrous under the table. It was definitely an impressive specimen, even if it didn't belong on her body. "Mmmph," Eve let out as Olivia's fingertip toyed with the hood of her clitoris. Just as soon as she touched her there, the feeling stopped and she followed the woman's hand as she reached into her pocket. It was some sort of ring, something that was completely foreign to Eve. To her surprise, she watched Olivia slide the ring down the length of her cock.<br><br>Goodness, did that ring feel good as it slid down her length. She wanted Olivia to continue. How badly even the thought of that stung her, that she actually wanted this complete stranger to keep playing with her cock. She realized the stimulation was causing her to lose all of her inhibitions and that notion was a frightening one. Still, she couldn't gather up the courage to refuse her. <br><br>Unfortunately, Olivia stopped at the base of her shaft and locked the ring tightly. Sighing, Eve drew her eyes back from the length, suddenly disgusted again at the sight of it. Olivia's hands didn't stop, though. However, the feeling had changed. There was a pent up, almost annoying feeling, like she was trapped. She wanted desperately to rip that ring off and explode. She had never orgasmed before, but she had heard about semen and what it was like. She wasn't even sure her organ was capable of that, but she longed for that release.<br><br>As Eve listened to the woman speak, she nodded slowly. She agreed with her. Her peers were going to be no more accepting of the fact that she was a lesbian than they would be of her cock. It pained her to know that no matter what, she'd never be part of the crowd. A place with others like her was enough to perk her ears up. When Olivia spoke her name, Eve furrowed her brow, having no recollection of ever telling it to her, but she attributed her not remembering to the good tug her partner had been giving her.<br><br>That sweet, sultry voice she'd become so akin to hearing suddenly dissipated into a stern command as Olivia told her to give her her panties. The command was a strange one and Eve wanted to protest or at least ask her why she wanted them, but there was something about the way she said it that made her think twice about questioning her. Instead, she reached down and hooked her thumbs into either side of the creamy white panties, slipping them down her thighs and calves all the way to her ankles. There, she kicked from free from one ankle and lifted the other so she could grasp it under the table. As stealthily as Olivia had been giving her handjob, Eve slipped the panties over to her discreetly. <br><br>"I want to go to that place," Eve responded once she had freed herself from her panties. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>10-03-2013, 03:53:27</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Once in Olivia's hand, the moist cotton went quickly into her pocket, depriving Eve of the only restraint that would keep her erection from tenting into her dress. And at that moment, it wouldn't matter, with Olivia's velvet glove pumping freely in the open air beneath the table, but that ring would prevent her release. Eventually she would need to rise from her seat with that erection still juicy and firm like a kielbasa. It would be the walk of shame through her peers, the emergence into the streets of small town America, and then perhaps to Olivia's roadster that would make Eve hers. Already she was coming along nicely.<br><br>"And I want to show it to you, darling," she said, a smile at Eve's lucidity even during her ongoing handjob. Even better than a girl who had the discipline to hold it in was a girl who had the presence of mind to take instruction while she did. After all, sometimes Olivia didn't want it all over lovely face. Sometimes it was more needed on her elegant decolletage, or on her dainty toes, or in her breakfast. There was a whole range of responsibilities Eve would have. But the first thing that Olivia wanted to teach her, that was already in progress. Eve needed to be able to unload on demand. She needed to love that purring voice, and yearn to cum for it, and so Olivia kept talking as her hand kept teasing.<br><br>"Look at you, so pent up," she murmured, speaking low, infusing every sonorous syllable with wicked depravity that had no place in this clean-cut world. "I know you're going to enjoy your time there. We can make the drive tonight, and I'll unlock you when we get there, and we can all show you a really good time. I bet a young lady like you has heaps of energy just waiting to be spent. Oh, they're going to love you." She had a rhythm now, her pumping hand polishing the head with a fine shine of what precious little fluid had been allowed to escape- a consequence of letting Eve get erect before the ring went on. She was forcefully nipping the tent of Eve's clitoral hood with the downward strokes of her hand, trying to build Eve desperately toward climax when she knew with almost certainty that it was impossible. It was that last inch, the buzzing, giddy inch where nothing else in the whole world mattered, where she wanted her young friend to be stuck and hovering. That was the best state to have them in.<br><br>She would stroke until her shoulder was perked and aching, until the last of Eve's cigarette burned to stub and the drab, distant-eyed crowd had thinned a little. Then her rhythm slowed, and her fingers began to drag longingly across the flesh, and she let Eve come to terms with her situation. "Come on," she told, "Let's go." And she didn't wait for Eve to find the courage to follow. She would have to, eventually, and perhaps hide her erection behind her books like a gangly pubescent. Leaving it as Eve's burden to bear was meant to burn that bridge behind her. She was meant to belong to Olivia now. The humiliation would do her some good.<br><br>Hers were the only heels that clicked along the coffee shop floor, for ladies wore heels, and none of the girls here were yet ladies. It took poise and grace and practice to be a lady. It took mystery, too. When she paused at the ash tray at the counter to extinguish her Lucky Strike, she gave a surreptitious glance back Eve's way. Then with a starlet's dramatic turn, a swish of her dark skirt, she stepped out into the evening. It would be getting dark soon. The lights out on Main Street were glowing, those few cafes and businesses that stayed open past curfew, the perfectly round and perfectly white headlights of the cars going by, almost cartoonish in their wide-open stare. <em>"Ma'am," </em>an even-voiced man said to her as she crossed into the lot, and she gave him a pleasant little smile. Her lashes were too low, too sultry to be observed for too long by a clean conscience. He didn't dally long.<br><br>The engine of the robin's egg Roadster started with clunking cough. There was time enough to raise the top while she waited, but Olivia liked to have the cool breeze streaming in, tugging at her hair, slipping up into the sleeves and V-neck of her jacket. She wanted for Eve to feel exposed, if indeed she did take the bait and follow the sound of the engine and the glow of the taillights to the one car running in the lot. There was a spot reserved for her on the bench seat, stretched like a leather couch from one side of the Roadster to the other. It didn't make any sense that Eve might hop into the car of a woman she'd only just met. Girls here just didn't behave like that. But they both had a unique need, didn't they? The rock 'n' roll songs told of a kind of urgent, instant attraction, a perfect love that couldn't be contained by a stuffy world for old kooks. And while that wasn't really Olivia's taste in music, it <em>was </em>the sort of brainwashing she could get behind.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>14-03-2013, 12:24:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Eve was starting to wonder what sort of power Olivia had over her. She'd always been the one to heed every warning. She never stepped outside of the box, yet&nbsp; there she was handing over her panties so willingly, it was almost as if she wanted to. The freedom was vindicating, though. The cool air that rushed over all of her bits was satisfying enough just as the look on Olivia's face was. <br><br>Despite the fact that she felt like she was on the verge of erupting, Eve didn't miss what the woman with her cock in her hand was saying. The place she spoke of sounded like some sort of place out of the dirtiest films she'd heard of. A place for her to go to quite literally, release. She couldn't help but dwell on the fact that Olivia kept talking about other people. Were there more women who were going to appreciate her penis as much as her? Could they be even as close to as alluring as Olivia? Those questions were only fleeting in Eve's mind, however, because she felt like her penis might actually break the ring that was around it. That's how intense the pressure was starting to get.<br><br>It wasn't helping matters that Olivia kept brushing against her clit, causing her tummy to tighten and her back to arch, her small breasts coming out a bit more prominently. She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, wanting to just scream at the top of her lungs. It was the most pleasurable of tortures. She wanted to tell Olivia exactly how much she admired her in that moment. She wanted the woman to know she was the reason for this sexual awakening.<br><br>Finally, that pumping rhythm that was bringing her painfully close to losing control had ceased, replaced by a slower, more sensual touch. Olivia gave Eve the word and even though she had no idea what was to come of this new place and the experience the beautiful woman spoke of, she was ready. As badly as she wanted to leave, there was an initial reluctance to stand and expose herself. She carefully lifted her hips and slid the dress back down where it was meant to reside. She then stood, her erection's prominence clearly evident as she grabbed hold of her books. She placed her hands in front of herself, the books shielding the looks from the sight of her excitement. Not that in that moment she cared all that much.<br><br>Eve followed Olivia out the door, watching the way she walked so seductively, as if egging Eve on, making her mind full of such impure thoughts she felt like chastising herself. Eve licked her lips, the cool breeze finding its way beneath her dress. She couldn't help but smile to herself, heading over to the roadster that was so neat. She eagerly got into the passenger side, sliding across the bench seat to the middle so she could be closer to Olivia. She set her books down beside her and then quite daringly lifted up her dress to expose her cock for Olivia again. <br><br>"Who are these people at this place you're talking about? Are they going to like this?" Eve asked bashfully, glancing down at her penis, eager to be touched again.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>03-04-2013, 02:14:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				A cool evening breeze whipped through the Roadster as it growled out onto the American highway, headlights bright, the kaleidoscope of stars and Main Street neon in Olivia's eyes. "Like-minded women," she said again. The engine went as fast as it pleased. There was nothing coming up but old pine forest and new pavement, still a tickle on the back of the North American wilderness. It was just two generations back that the railroad connected the coasts, and left great expanses wild and untamed. Olivia was at home here. "Some of them are like you, darling, with a little extra gift from god." It was a lowercase word, god, without reverence for the Lord. It wasn't that Olivia didn't believe; every man, woman, and child believed. She simply didn't care what the Divine thought of her manners. "And sometimes we'll have some visitors, ladies with refined tastes. It's a club, you understand, and it's all centered around your pleasure. You're going to like it."<br><br>Like any competent driver on the 1950s road, Olivia decided she needed only one hand to steady the chrome wheel. The other rest on Eve's stick shift, keeping it warm against the cool wind, providing slender velvet restraints for it to strain against. Her thumb adored that purple head and kept trying to polish it smooth no matter how Eve squirmed. Miles passed, but not too many. The Roadster didn't get many miles to the gallon. "Did you bring those books of yours? Oh my, no, we'll have precious little time for that. You may as well toss them out into the woods, get hep. It's all a lot of nonsense."<br><br>The Roadaster crackled down the long gravel drive of a ranch without cattle, a waist-high gate left open and a bungalow ranch house glowing like a little power plant in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't too far from civilization to hoof it, but you'd have to be downright desperate to try. The engine cut out with an orgasmic shudder, and Olivia's fingers left the college girl's cock just long enough to pluck the keys from the ignition. When they came back to the engorged organ, she had the straw from her Dr Pepper and a glint in her eye. "Wear this for me," she said, and the wet tube searched against the slit of Eve's cock.<br><br>The drinking straw was narrow enough, and its edge soft enough, that it began to slide down into the urethra. There was a bit of bite as it penetrated, but Olivia went gently and slowly, cupping Eve's cock in her velvet-gloved fingers, easing the lead of the tube just a couple of inches down the marble-hard glans and into the shaft. It didn't need to go very far in. It only needed to form a seal against the sticky opening, to ensure that when Olivia's mouth did suck, she was sucking straight down into the ejaculatory muscles, and when Eve did deliver, not a drop would be spilled. It would all slide up the drinking utensil into Olivia's waiting mouth.<br><br>Her lips did not meet the straw just yet. Instead she gave it a ginger tug with her fingers, testing that it would hold. It was her flag, and an explicit declaration of her intent to drain Eve dry. She was thirsty and had scented what she wanted. The rest of the cock almost didn't matter. Sure, it was a gorgeous cock, one a woman could run her hands down for days; it was rewarding to feel twitch in her hand. But it was ultimately just a delivery system for what Olivia craved, and the dinky disposable straw was there to give her direct access.<br><br>"Keep it in," she instructed, as she slipped out and left Eve's panties dangling on the rear-view mirror. Her heels rustled through the fescue and clicked up the front porch where a swing was strummed gently by the breeze. The front door was never locked. And inside, it was warm as a bakery, just the right temperature to catalyze certain chemical reactions. "Give your things to Alice." And almost invisble amongst the lacy and baroque decor, there was a willowy platinum-blonde maid whose uniform was more fetish than practical, all laced corset and ruffles and bare legs. More cleavage than it took to sell Treasury Bonds, squeezed to overflowing, approached Eve with a stilted little skip. The mistress of the house was unbuttoning her white jacket. It was time to get down to business.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>03-04-2013, 04:04:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				As Olivia spoke of other women with cocks, Eve started to wonder if there was so sort of giveaway that let her know where these women came from. Initially, she left like their meeting was merely coincidental, but the more her mind stewed over it, the more it made sense that Olivia may have had an inkling before she reached down into her panties. Not that it mattered.<br><br>A club centered around her pleasure. Eve could get used to that. She already loved how in-tune Olivia was with her needs, even though she was relentless in how she kept her so close to orgasm without actually pushing her over the brink. The ride seemed to fly by, especially considering the fact that Eve was once again taken by Olivia's hand and how well it felt as it moved over her head. She wanted to scream out and let loose and just cum, but Olivia wasn't having that. At least not yet. Instead, Eve relished in her new sexual freedom, no longer feeling like her cock was something to be ashamed of.<br><br>The straw was a very unexpected addition and Eve had little idea what the plan was regarding it. She didn't protest, but rather winced and kept her mouth shut as it was put in place. It wasn't long after the uncomfortable feeling began to subside that they arrived at the ranch house that was cut off from the rest of society. It appeared to be the perfect place to harbor women with cocks. <br><br>"Sure," Eve said when Olivia instructed her to keep the straw in. Free from her panties, Eve let the breeze assault her as it fluttered beneath her dress. Her heart was beating off-kilter, attributed to the sudden rush of nerves as she followed Olivia towards the house. The heat hit her as she stepped inside. The place had a warmth not only in temperature, but it also had a welcoming warmth that made her feel at home from the moment she stepped foot inside. She reasoned that Alice was some sort of housekeeper. The woman was dressed to kill despite her title, her breasts looking as if they might claw their way from their restraints, her legs on full display. She was sexy. She didn't have the movie star quality Olivia did, but she was an attractive woman and Eve found herself getting more than a good look.<br><br>"Here you go," Eve said sweetly, flashing a brilliant smile as she handed Alice her school books. She didn't wear a coat, so that was all she had to hand over. Looking back at Olivia, Eve couldn't help but feel like a giddy little girl on Christmas Eve. It was something new and completely foreign to her, but something she couldn't wait for. What was to come next she hadn't a clue, but she knew whatever Olivia wanted, she would give her.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>06-04-2013, 04:37:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The weight of Eve's books sank into the maid's arms and then came up to meet the softness of her chest with a clap and a little jiggle she was helpless to stop. The blonde was eyeing the newcomer carefully, her eyes shy but shrewd, the corner of her mouth pinched in between teeth that gave it a nervous nibble. She said nothing unless she was bidden in the mistress' presence, and Olivia did not give her permission. Olivia was leading the way into the kitchen, letting Alice disappear into the house. There were other guests, but they were quiet. Polite. Trained not to bring attention to themselves.<br><br>"Sit up on the table," she urged, and designated a lovely navel-high dinner table of butcher block draped in a tablecloth of white embroidered with blue borders and mauve flowers. While Eve tested the stability of the table with her hips, Olivia had circled around to the far side. She took a firm but not unpleasant hold of the young woman's hair and pulled to urge her to trust and lay back, despite her instincts of how to treat a kitchen table. "Sometimes it's better to be restricted, isn't it? Just like the ring enables you to stay ready and eager, I'm going to bind your hands, to keep your excitement from getting the better of you."<br><br>Gentler than she'd pulled Eve's blonde hair, she urged the young woman's arms to reach up and over the corner of the table. The cool touch of a metal bracelet claimed one, and the ratchet of blocky handcuffs click-click-clicked as they grew tighter to hug the skin. With a little purr of anticipation, Olivia's gloved hands eased the second wrist into the second loop, and when it closed, Eve was chained to one of the table legs, the muscles of her shoulders tight against the tablecloth. "I'm going to trust you not to get too wild with your legs, darling. If you have a conniption, then I'll just have to restrain them as well."<br><br>There was a slinking, Hollywood starlet quality to her body as she moved to stand where Eve could see. She was a curvy minx of a woman with her white jacket off, poured into a black dress that flashed her luxurious decolletage that must've been treated with the silkiest lotion and powdered with the most forgiving foundation. The lovely arms that rose up to gingerly tug off her gloves were the same impossible texture, without a flaw or single alligator scale to be found by the eye. She was almost doll-like, but they didn't make dolls of that quality. A doll like Olivia would be a work of Michelangelo. "I'm going to give you permission to spit your seed," she said, "once the ring is unfastened."<br><br>Olivia sank down into an elegant chair at the edge of the table where Eve had first sat, where her hips were offered and her legs were stuck figuring out just what to do. Her unmarred fingers gently coaxed the straw that stuck from her new plaything's urethra a little closer, pulling the proud angle of Eve's cock down with it. Her painted lips clasped the straw, steadying the length, but the pluck of her fingers against the tube could still be felt. "Mmm," she moaned in appreciation, a tickle of breath from her nostrils against the purple head just a few inches from her soft lips.<br><br>Without touching Eve's cock, using only the drinking straw, she began to suck. The insistent tug of her mouth pulled down into the college girl, instructing without words that she wanted that sticky white cum in her mouth, down to every last drop. The rhythm of her suction was the only stimulation she gave. She did not stroke Eve, and prevented her legs from closing to rub. If it took ten minutes to achieve Eve's climax this way, that was fine. More teasing meant more volume, and it was that, more than Eve's pleasure, that she was really after.<br><br>Once she had the sucking rhythm down, she began to untighten the ring. The slack was light at first, but allowing the first pregnant thickness of precum to slide up the lubricated straw. A little more at a time, the ring loosened, never quite gone, but giving Eve back the ability to ejaculate. Her sultry eyes were unflinching as she sucked down into the tender passage of the young woman's cock, urging now, giving her permission to explode after almost an hour of relentless teasing.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 03:46:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Eve took a long look at the maid, finding her silence a bit off-putting, but she got over it rather quickly. There were more pressing matters at hand, namely the erection that was still standing fiercely at attention beneath her dress. Eve had no idea what Olivia had in mind, but she hoped it would end in her being able to relieve the stress that was building in her from being hard for so long without release. <br><br>Eve half-expected Olivia to take her into a bedroom or someplace private and she couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow when she led her into the kitchen. Were they going to have a snack? It was a little peculiar, but Eve smiled when the beauty she'd came with instructed her to sit on the table. There was no hesitation or inquiry. Instead, she willingly sat on the table. She was so far out of her comfort zone that it would be silly to question motives. She wanted to get off. It sounded so unlike her to even think of something like that, not to mention the thought included her new penis and not the beautiful gift she'd been born with. <br><br>Taking no time at all, Olivia made her way to the far side of the table and gripped her hair. The feeling was a surprise to Eve, the light tug sending her into a laying position on the table as if it was something routinely done, to lay on a kitchen table. Olivia then brought up the prospect of binding her hands. Another completely foreign thought for Eve, but again she remained silent and put her trust into the woman. She felt the cool metal against her wrists and a shiver ran clear up her spine. There she was, on her back and bound, Eve putting her trust in a woman she didn't know from Adam.<br><br>She couldn't comprehend what having her wrists locked was going to do. It seemed even more odd than the handjob she'd received earlier, but somehow, it all felt right. "I won't. I promise," Eve said softly when Olivia mentioned her getting wild with her legs. Whatever was going to happen, Eve was ready for it. <br><br>Eve's eyes followed Olivia, locking onto her once she was in position. With her jacket off, there was much more to appreciate about Olivia and her body. She was much more busty than she had anticipated, her breasts looking as if they might spill out of her dress. She could dream. Olivia's next words brought forth a breath of relief from Eve's lips. She needed to spill her seed and receiving permission to do so was a weight off of her shoulders. <br><br>Eve could barely catch a glimpse of Olivia once she took her seat, but she took in a sharp breath at the feeling of her cock being manipulated again. The moan she heard come from Olivia brought forth a spasm from her cock, knowing she was giving the woman some form of pleasure turned her on. She bit her lip as Olivia took the straw into her mouth. She wanted actual contact with the woman's lips upon her actual length, but the sucking of the straw would have to suffice. It was odd, though that the woman who seemed to be fairly enamored with her chose only to use the straw. The straw appeared to be a sort of barrier. Eve didn't understand the point.<br><br>One thing she did understand, though was that the sucking felt good. Although there was no direct contact, the air from the straw was making her shaft stiffen further and spasm wildly. She was on the verge of cumming. She had never done such a thing before, but her body was telling her there would be some reward coming to her soon. Arching her neck to be able to see Olivia, knowing the sight of the attractive woman would aid in her climax, she got a good look at her.<br><br>It was strange how something so queer could be so erotic. Eve let out an audible moan, wanting so badly to squeeze her thighs together. She heeded Olivia's earlier words, however, and kept them painfully still. The throbbing of Eve's cock was more pronounced and the feeling startled her. Although she had real reference point, she was fairly certain it was happening. <br><br>"Oh god, oh my," Eve mumbled before slipping her bottom lip between her teeth to partially muffle herself. She was cumming, she was sure of it, feeling the hot, thick seed find its way from her urethra through the straw and into Olivia's waiting mouth. At least, she assumed that's what she was looking for. Eve didn't know what her cum or any cum tasted like, but she couldn't help but wonder if her partner was going to find it satisfying. All she knew is that finally cumming was a feeling she wanted to experience again. Her entire body tingled, her legs quaking . Eve had given Olivia quite a mouthful and Olivia had succeeded in bringing her to orgasm while not even touching her cock. She was one talented woman.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dhi</strong> on <strong>13-04-2013, 11:57:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Jet after jet was dousing her soft palate, pressurized by her sucking, by the tube of the straw, and by Eve's newly primed ejaculatory muscles. The taste was sweet satisfaction that left her purring between the college girl's thighs, though it wasn't really sweet at all- it was salty, tacky and unpleasant to most, but Olivia craved it biologically. She watched the rhythm of Eve's orgasmic contractions play out between her legs, and timed her long sucks to reward and draw out each flex to pump the hot seed into her mouth. It was over too quickly. Her suck was still pulling, asking for more when Eve was left shaking. The last gooey blockage in the straw disappeared between the older woman's lips, and there was one final feeling of relief as she reclaimed the straw from Eve's urethra. She turned it about, and slipped the end that had been inside of the young woman through her lips, and then was done with the device.<br><br>"That was a good start," she said, "but you can give me much more than that. There are secrets to a robust ejaculation, you see? I'm going to help you to really get down." There was just a tinge of disappointment to her cool voice. She had gone through all this before, with so many of the girls, and their potential was never quite what she hoped. A bath, a real literal bath and not the weekly sprinklings she posed for each week, that would really rejuvenate the skin, sink luxurious into every pore and melt away any niggling signs of age. Her hand cupped Eve's sensitized cock, and the ring around her base went tight again to help her erection maintain.<br><br>"A good prolonged tease is a great fire up. You may think it cruel, but it really does make the moment of truth ever so much better." When the ring was locked again, Eve would be forced to continue coping with an aroused organ jutting from her with no hope of release and the brief period of satisfaction counting down. In the daylight hours around the ranch, during restless and gyrating sleep, any time the mistress did not call on them to deliver, this was how her girls lived. And with that lock fastened, she moved to unfasten the lock of Eve's cuffs, and help her up from the table with arms attentive to the wooziness that often followed.<br><br>Eve's organ was pinned against the sashay of the older woman's hips as she helped her into the sitting room and onto the couch, where she could unwind from her heart-pounding state. A great big tube television, roughly the height and breadth of a Buick's grill, was behind Olivia as she backed away from the soft cushion that accommodated her guest. The grayscale picture sparked on with the push of a button, and after the initial flicker there was curly-haired Georgia Gibbs on the Cavalcade of Stars, swaying and singing a torch song with the melodious voice of an angel. "Do you like steak, darling? Let's fix you a nice cut of steak for supper."<br><br>"I want all of my girls to be eating right," she was saying as she popped back into the kitchen. "The vitamins will help boost your production. That's another little secret." Her finger was playfully hushed to her lips as she came back through, a tray of choice beef waiting to be grilled perched against her hip. "We'll make you very virile. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." Out of the woodwork came Olivia's other guests, called by the dinner bell or the sound of the television. Great swathes of leg, short hoop skirts tented conspicuously in the front, a dozen different cautious faces with half climbing to share the couch with Eve. They were most affectionate, and most undeterred by an erection in the lap. A young woman's head rest against Eve's reclined breast out of loneliness or boredom.<br><br>Several of them accompanied Olivia out into the back to fire up the grill. It was Alice, the surly maid-looking one, who came around to fill the vacuum of authority once the mistress had stepped out. She visually checked that Olivia was occupied before addressing Eve with a defiant flip of her platinum-blonde hair. "You're new," she blurted, not practiced with using her own shy voice. "I've been around for a while. I can tell you how it's going to be from now on."<br><br>"You're the bottom girl." A pink lip pinched between her teeth as she could be seen to cognate what kind of penalty that entailed. "You might get fucked, so you better stick with me." Into a recliner seat she went, light as a feather, still barely contained by her uniform. "Tonight you'll be okay. After dinner, everyone gets to cum. In the morning, we'll see. That is, if you measure up after dinner. If not, well..." She gave an exaggerated shrug, and seemed to prefer to let Eve guess what might happen.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: For Softer Wrinkle-Free Skin ( A 1950s sex cult by Legendary &amp; Dhi )</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Legendary</strong> on <strong>16-04-2013, 03:53:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Eve was quite astounded by how vehemently Olivia sucked at the straw. It was alarming how much she seemed to want her cum and nothing else. It wasn't as if there was a connection between the two. It was like she was there only for her seed and nothing else. The notion was slightly off-putting and Eve was beginning to feel like she was just being used. Even so, there was something incredibly sexy about watching a beautiful woman drink down her seed as if it was the best of meals.<br><br>The twist and turns of feelings continued as Olivia voiced her disappointment. She wanted more cum. Eve wished she understood what the fascination was with how much she came, but she didn't feel like making a big deal out of it. Instead, she stayed quiet and allowed the woman to lead her out into the sitting room once her cuffs were taken off. She felt a little more free, albeit used. Eve watched the television, admiring the voice emanating from the speakers. Her focus was cut by the sound of Olivia's voice again. <br><br>Steak? Eve couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten meat. The mere thought turned her stomach even more than being used merely for her cum. She didn't want to protest and kick up dirt, feeling intimidated by the older woman. "Okay," she answered simply, not answering the question. The sound of the dinner bell was startling, causing Eve to jump a little. The initial shock was met with even more uneasiness at the sight of more women heading into the room with her. Eve quirked an eyebrow as one particular woman sidled up to her and rested her head on her breast. Not wanting to be rude, Eve just placed her hand on the woman's cheek, giving it a couple soft pats as if to say it was alright.<br><br>The woman Eve had taken for some sort of maid began speaking to her once Olivia was out of earshot. She expected some random, run of the mill idle chit chat, but instead, she was telling her how it was going to be. She spoke as if she was sure what was going to happen and that frightened Eve. She already felt uneasy, and the more the woman spoke, the faster her heart beat. Eve finally decided to break her silence, figuring she was safe to make inquiries since Olivia wasn't around.<br><br>"What is this? Why am I here and what's the point of all of the...cum?" Eve had a particularly hard time speaking that last word, but she felt almost desensitized since she arrived at the strange home. Rather than connecting with women with similar attributes, she had been brought to some strange fetish house where the leader, Olivia, had some sort of irrational love for cum. Strange.
			</dd>
		</dl>
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